Chapter 1 Marseilles--The Arrival
 ON THE 24th of February, 1810, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples. As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island. 
Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocée docks, and belongs to an owner of the city. 
The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomègue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot. 
The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Rèserve basin. 
When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks. 
He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. 
"Ah, is it you, Dantès?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?" 
"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man,--"a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere." 
"And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly. 
"Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain Leclere--" 
"What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. "What happened to the worthy captain?" 
"He died." 
"Fell into the sea?" 
"No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony." Then turning to the crew, he said, "Bear a hand there, to take in sail!" 
All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner. 
"And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted conversation. 
"Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added the young man with a melancholy smile, "to make war against the English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like everybody else." 
"Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every moment, "we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo--" 
"Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage." 
Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: "Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!" 
The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war. 
"Let go--and clue up!" At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards. 
"Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantès, observing the owner's impatience, "here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning." 
The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which Dantès flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going to his task, left the conversation to Danglars, who now came towards the owner. He was a man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, of unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, insolent to his subordinates; and this, in addition to his position as responsible agent on board, which is always obnoxious to the sailors, made him as much disliked by the crew as Edmond Dantès was beloved by them. 
"Well, M. Morrel," said Danglars, "you have heard of the misfortune that has befallen us?" 
"Yes--yes: poor Captain Leclere! He was a brave and an honest man." 
"And a first-rate seaman, one who had seen long and honorable service, as became a man charged with the interests of a house so important as that of Morrel & Son," replied Danglars. 
"But," replied the owner, glancing after Dantès, who was watching the anchoring of his vessel, "it seems to me that a sailor needs not be so old as you say, Danglars, to understand his business, for our friend Edmond seems to understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction from any one." 
"Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. "Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the captain's breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct." 
"As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that was his duty as captain's mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs." 
"The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else." 
"Dantès," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, "come this way!" 
"In a moment, sir," answered Dantès, "and I'm with you." Then calling to the crew, he said--"Let go!" 
The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port-hole. Dantès continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, "Half-mast the colors, and square the yards!" 
"You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain already, upon my word." 
"And so, in fact, he is," said the owner. 
"Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel." 
"And why should he not have this?" asked the owner; "he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience." 
A cloud passed over Danglars' brow. "Your pardon, M. Morrel," said Dantès, approaching, "the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?" 
Danglars retreated a step or two. 
"I wished to inquire why you stopped at the Island of Elba?" 
"I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand." 
"Then did you see him, Edmond?" 
"Who?" 
"The marshal." 
"Yes." 
Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantès on one side, he said suddenly--"And how is the emperor?" 
"Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him." 
"You saw the emperor, then?" 
"He entered the marshal's apartment while I was there." 
"And you spoke to him?" 
"Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir," said Dantès, with a smile. 
"And what did he say to you?" 
"Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left Marseilles, the course she had taken, and what was her cargo. I believe, if she had not been laden, and I had been her master, he would have bought her. But I told him I was only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel & Son. 'Ah, yes,' he said, 'I know them. The Morrels have been shipowners from father to son; and there was a Morrel who served in the same regiment with me when I was in garrison at Valence.'" 
"Pardieu! and that is true!" cried the owner, greatly delighted. "And that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was afterwards a captain. Dantès, you must tell my uncle that the emperor remembered him, and you will see it will bring tears into the old soldier's eyes. Come, come," continued he, patting Edmond's shoulder kindly, "you did very right, Dantès, to follow Captain Leclere's instructions, and touch at Elba, although if it were known that you had conveyed a packet to the marshal, and had conversed with the emperor, it might bring you into trouble." 
"How could that bring me into trouble, sir?" asked Dantès; "for I did not even know of what I was the bearer; and the emperor merely made such inquiries as he would of the first comer. But, pardon me, here are the health officers and the customs inspectors coming alongside." And the young man went to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and said,-- 
"Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons for his landing at Porto-Ferrajo?" 
"Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars." 
"Well, so much the better," said the supercargo; "for it is not pleasant to think that a comrade has not done his duty." 
"Dantès has done his," replied the owner, "and that is not saying much. It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this delay." 
"Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantès given you a letter from him?" 
"To me?--no--was there one?" 
"I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere confided a letter to his care." 
"Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?" 
"Why, that which Dantès left at Porto-Ferrajo." 
"How do you know he had a packet to leave at Porto-Ferrajo?" 
Danglars turned very red. 
"I was passing close to the door of the captain's cabin, which was half open, and I saw him give the packet and letter to Dantès." 
"He did not speak to me of it," replied the shipowner; "but if there be any letter he will give it to me." 
Danglars reflected for a moment. "Then, M. Morrel, I beg of you," said he, "not to say a word to Dantès on the subject. I may have been mistaken." 
At this moment the young man returned; Danglars withdrew. 
"Well, my dear Dantès, are you now free?" inquired the owner. 
"Yes, sir." 
"You have not been long detained." 
"No. I gave the custom-house officers a copy of our bill of lading; and as to the other papers, they sent a man off with the pilot, to whom I gave them." 
"Then you have nothing more to do here?" 
"No--everything is all right now." 
"Then you can come and dine with me?" 
"I really must ask you to excuse me, M. Morrel. My first visit is due to my father, though I am not the less grateful for the honor you have done me." 
"Right, Dantès, quite right. I always knew you were a good son." 
"And," inquired Dantès, with some hesitation, "do you know how my father is?" 
"Well, I believe, my dear Edmond, though I have not seen him lately." 
"Yes, he likes to keep himself shut up in his little room." 
"That proves, at least, that he has wanted for nothing during your absence." 
Dantès smiled. "My father is proud, sir, and if he had not a meal left, I doubt if he would have asked anything from anyone, except from Heaven." 
"Well, then, after this first visit has been made we shall count on you." 
"I must again excuse myself, M. Morrel, for after this first visit has been paid I have another which I am most anxious to pay." "True, Dantès, I forgot that there was at the Catalans some one who expects you no less impatiently than your father--the lovely Mercédès." 
Dantès blushed. 
"Ah, ha," said the shipowner, "I am not in the least surprised, for she has been to me three times, inquiring if there were any news of the Pharaon. Peste! Edmond, you have a very handsome mistress!" 
"She is not my mistress," replied the young sailor, gravely; "she is my betrothed." 
"Sometimes one and the same thing," said Morrel, with a smile. 
"Not with us, sir," replied Dantès. 
"Well, well, my dear Edmond," continued the owner, "don't let me detain you. You have managed my affairs so well that I ought to allow you all the time you require for your own. Do you want any money?" 
"No, sir; I have all my pay to take--nearly three months' wages." 
"You are a careful fellow, Edmond." 
"Say I have a poor father, sir." 
"Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now hasten away to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very wroth with those who detained him from me after a three months' voyage." 
"Then I have your leave, sir?" 
"Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me." 
"Nothing." 
"Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter for me?" 
"He was unable to write, sir. But that reminds me that I must ask your leave of absence for some days." 
"To get married?" 
"Yes, first, and then to go to Paris." 
"Very good; have what time you require, Dantès. It will take quite six weeks to unload the cargo, and we cannot get you ready for sea until three months after that; only be back again in three months, for the Pharaon," added the owner, patting the young sailor on the back, "cannot sail without her captain." 
"Without her captain!" cried Dantès, his eyes sparkling with animation; "pray mind what you say, for you are touching on the most secret wishes of my heart. Is it really your intention to make me captain of the Pharaon?" 
"If I were sole owner we'd shake hands on it now, my dear Dantès, and call it settled; but I have a partner, and you know the Italian proverb--Chi ha compagno ha padrone--'He who has a partner has a master.' But the thing is at least half done, as you have one out of two votes. Rely on me to procure you the other; I will do my best." 
"Ah, M. Morrel," exclaimed the young seaman, with tears in his eyes, and grasping the owner's hand, "M. Morrel, I thank you in the name of my father and of Mercédès." 
"That's all right, Edmond. There's a providence that watches over the deserving. Go to your father: go and see Mercédès, and afterwards come to me." 
"Shall I row you ashore?" 
"No, thank you; I shall remain and look over the accounts with Danglars. Have you been satisfied with him this voyage?" 
"That is according to the sense you attach to the question, sir. Do you mean is he a good comrade? No, for I think he never liked me since the day when I was silly enough, after a little quarrel we had, to propose to him to stop for ten minutes at the island of Monte Cristo to settle the dispute--a proposition which I was wrong to suggest, and he quite right to refuse. If you mean as responsible agent when you ask me the question, I believe there is nothing to say against him, and that you will be content with the way in which he has performed his duty." 
"But tell me, Dantès, if you had command of the Pharaon should you be glad to see Danglars remain?" 
"Captain or mate, M. Morrel, I shall always have the greatest respect for those who possess the owners' confidence." 
"That's right, that's right, Dantès! I see you are a thoroughly good fellow, and will detain you no longer. Go, for I see how impatient you are." 
"Then I have leave?" 
"Go, I tell you." 
"May I have the use of your skiff?" 
"Certainly." 
"Then, for the present, M. Morrel, farewell, and a thousand thanks!" 
"I hope soon to see you again, my dear Edmond. Good luck to you." 
The young sailor jumped into the skiff, and sat down in the stern sheets, with the order that he be put ashore at La Canebière. The two oarsmen bent to their work, and the little boat glided away as rapidly as possible in the midst of the thousand vessels which choke up the narrow way which leads between the two rows of ships from the mouth of the harbor to the Quai d'Orleans. 
The shipowner, smiling, followed him with his eyes until he saw him spring out on the quay and disappear in the midst of the throng, which from five o'clock in the morning until nine o'clock at night, swarms in the famous street of La Canebière,--a street of which the modern Phocaeans are so proud that they say with all the gravity in the world, and with that accent which gives so much character to what is said, "If Paris had La Canebière, Paris would be a second Marseilles." On turning round the owner saw Danglars behind him, apparently awaiting orders, but in reality also watching the young sailor,--but there was a great difference in the expression of the two men who thus followed the movements of Edmond Dantès.    
一八一五年二月二十四日，在避风堰了望塔上的了望员向人们发出了信号，告之三桅帆船法老号到了。它是从士麦拿出发经过的里雅斯特和那不勒斯来的。立刻一位领港员被派出去，绕过伊夫堡，在摩琴海岬和里翁岛之间登上了船。 
圣·琪安海岛的平台上即刻挤满了看热闹的人。在马赛，一艘大船的进港终究是一件大事，尤其是象法老号这样的大船，船主是本地人，船又是在佛喜造船厂里建造装配的，因而就特别引人注目。 
法老号渐渐驶近了，它已顺利通过了卡拉沙林岛和杰罗斯岛之间由几次火山爆发所造成的海峡，绕过波米琪岛，驶近了港口。尽管船上扯起了三张主桅帆，一张大三角帆和一张后桅帆，但它驶得非常缓慢，一副无精打采的样子，以致岸上那些看热闹的人本能地预感到有什么不幸的事发生了，于是互相探问船上究竟发生了什么不幸的事。不过那些航海行家们一眼就看出，假如的确发生了什么意外事情的话，那一定与船的本身无关。因为从各方面来看，它并无丝毫失去操纵的迹象。领港员正在驾驶着动作敏捷的法老号通过马赛港狭窄的甬道进口。在领港员的旁边，有一青年正在动作敏捷地打着手势，他那敏锐的眼光注视着船的每一个动作，并重复领港员的每一个命令。 
岸上看热闹的人中弥漫着一种焦躁不安的情绪。其中有一位忍耐不住了，他等不及帆船入港就跳进了一只小艇迎着大船驶去，那只小艇在大船到里瑟夫湾对面的地方时便靠拢了法老号。 
大船上的那个青年看见了来人，就摘下帽子，从领港员身旁离开并来到了船边。他是一个身材瘦长的青年，年龄约莫有十九岁左右的样子，有着一双黑色的眼睛和一头乌黑的头发；他的外表给人一种极其镇定和坚毅的感觉，那种镇定和坚毅的气质是只有从小就经过大风大浪，艰难险阻的人才具有的。 
“啊！是你呀，唐太斯？”小艇的人喊道。“出了什么事？为什么你们船上显得这样丧气？” 
“太不幸了，莫雷尔先生！”那个青年回答说，“太不幸了，尤其是对我！在契维塔韦基亚附近，我们失去了我们勇敢的莱克勒船长。” 
“货呢？”船主焦急地问。 
“货都安全，莫雷尔先生，那方面我想你是可以满意的。但可怜的莱克勒船长——” 
“货物怎么样”？船主问道。 
“货物未受任何损失，平安到达。不过，可怜的莱克勒船长他……”“他怎么了？出了什么事？”船主带着稍微放松一点的口气问。“那位可敬的船长怎么了？” 
“他死了。” 
“掉在海里了吗？” 
“不，先生，他是得脑膜炎死的，临终时痛苦极了。”说完他便转身对船员喊到：“全体注意！准备抛锚！” 
全体船员立刻按命令行动起来。船上一共有八个到十个海员，他们有的奔到大帆的索子那里，有的奔到三角帆和主帆的索子那里，有的则去控制转帆索和卷帆索。那青年水手四下环视了一下，看到他的命令已被迅速准确地执行，便又转过脸去对着船主。 
“这件不幸的事是怎么发生的？”船主先等了一会儿便又重新拾起话题。 
“唉，先生！完全是始料不到的事。在离开那不勒斯以前，莱克勒船长曾和那不勒斯港督交谈了很久。开船的时候，他就觉得头极不舒服。二十四个小时后，他就开始发烧，三天后就死了。我们按惯例海葬了他，想来他也可以安心长眠了。我们把他端端正正地缝裹在吊床里，头脚处放了两块各三十六磅重的铅块，就在艾尔及里奥岛外把他海葬了。我们把他的佩剑和十字荣誉勋章带了回来准备交给他的太太做纪念。船长这一生总算没虚度了。青年的脸上露出一个忧郁的微笑，又说，“他和英国人打仗打了十年，到头来仍能象常人那样死在床上。” 
“爱德蒙，你知道，”船主说道，他显得越来越放心了，“我们都是凡人，都免不了一死，老年人终究要让位给青年人。不然，你看，青年人就无法得到升迁的机会，而且你已向我保证货物——” 
“货物是完好无损的，莫雷尔先生，请相信我好了。我想这次航行你至少赚二万五千法郎呢。” 
这时，船正在驶过圆塔，青年就喊道：“注意，准备收主帆，后帆和三角帆！” 
他的命令立刻被执行了，犹如在一艘大战舰上一样。 
“收帆！卷帆！”最后那个命令刚下达完，所有的帆就都收了下来，船在凭借惯性向前滑行，几乎觉不到是在向前移动了。 
“现在请您上船来吧，莫雷尔先生，”唐太斯说，他看到船主已经有点着急便说道，“你的押运员腾格拉尔先生已走出船舱了，他会把详细情形告诉您的。我还得去照顾抛锚和给这只船挂丧的事。” 
船主没再说什么便立即抓住了唐太斯抛给他的一条绳子，以水手般敏捷的动作爬上船边的弦梯，那青年去执行他的任务了，把船王和那个他称为腾格拉尔的人留在了一起。腾格拉尔现在正向船主走来。他约莫有二十五六岁，天生一副对上谄媚对下轻视无礼，不讨人喜欢的面孔。他在船上担任押运员，本来就惹水手们讨厌，他个人的一些作派也是惹人讨厌的一个因素，船员都憎恶他，却很爱戴爱德蒙·唐太斯。 
“莫雷尔先生，”腾格拉尔说，“你听说我们所遭到的不幸了吧？” 
“唉，是的！可怜的莱克勒船长！他的确是一个勇敢而又诚实的人！” 
“而且也是一名一流的海员，是在大海与蓝天之间度过一生的——是负责莫雷尔父子公司这种重要的公司的最合适的人才。”腾格拉尔回答。 
“可是，”船主一边说，一边把眼光盯在了正在指挥抛锚的唐太斯身上，“在我看来，腾格拉尔，一个水手要干得很内行，实在也不必象你所说的那样的老海员才行，因为你看，我们这位朋友爱德蒙，不需任何人的指示，似乎也干得很不错，完全可以称职了。” 
“是的，”腾格拉尔向爱德蒙扫了一眼，露出仇恨的目光说，“是的，他很年轻，而年轻人总是自视甚高的，船长刚去世，他就跟谁也不商量一下，竟自作主张地独揽指挥权，对下面发号施令起来，而且还在厄尔巴岛耽搁了一天半，没有直航返回马赛。” 
“说到他执掌这只船的指挥权，”莫雷尔说道，“他既然是船上大副，这就应该是他的职责。至于在厄尔巴岛耽搁了一天半的事儿，是他的错，除非这只船有什么故障。” 
“这只船是象你我的身体一样，毫无毛病，莫雷尔先生，那一天半的时间完全是浪费——只是因为他要到岸上玩玩，别无他事。” 
“唐太斯！”船主转过身去喊青年，“到这儿来！” 
“等一下，先生，”唐太斯回答，“我就来。”然后他对船员喊道，“抛锚！” 
锚立刻抛下去了，铁链哗啦啦一阵响声过去。虽有领港员在场，唐太斯仍然克尽职守，直到这项工作完成，才喊“降旗，把旗降在旗杆半中央。把公司的旗也降一半致哀，“看，”腾格拉尔说，“他简直已自命为船长啦。” 
“嗯，事实上，他已经的确是了。”船主说。 
“不错，就缺你和你的和伙人签字批准了，摩斯尔先生。” 
“那倒不难。”船主说，“不错，他很年轻，但依我看，他似乎可以说已是一个经验丰富的海员了。” 
腾格拉尔的眉际掠过一片阴云。 
“对不起，莫雷尔先生，”唐太斯走过来说，“船现在已经停妥，我可以听的您吩咐了。刚才是您在叫我吗？” 
腾格拉尔向后退了一两步。 
“我想问问你为什么要在厄尔巴岛停泊耽搁了一天半时间。” 
“究竟为什么我也不十分清楚，我只是在执行莱克勒船长最后的一个命令而已。他在临终的时候，要我送一包东西给贝特朗元帅。” 
“你见到他了吗，爱德蒙？” 
“谁？” 
“元帅。” 
“见到了。” 
莫雷尔向四周张望了一下，把唐太斯拖到一边，急忙问道：“陛下他好吗？” 
“看上去还不错。” 
“这么说，你见到陛下了，是吗？” 
“我在元帅房间里的时候，他进来了。” 
“你和他讲了话吗？” 
“是他先跟我讲话的，先生。”唐太斯微笑着说。 
“他跟你都说了些什么？” 
“问了我一些关于船的事——什么时候启航开回马赛，从哪儿来，船装了些什么货。我敢说，假如船上没有装货，而我又是船主的话，他会把船买下来的。但我告诉他，我只是大副，船是莫雷尔父子公司的。‘哦，哦！’他说，‘我了解他们！莫雷尔这个家族的人世世代代都当船主。当我驻守在瓦朗斯的时候，我那个团里面也有一个姓莫雷尔的人。” 
“太对了！一点不错！”船主非常高兴地喊道。“那是我的叔叔波立卡·莫雷尔，他后来被提升到上尉。唐太斯，你一定要去告诉我叔叔，说陛下还记得他，你将看到那个老兵，被感动得掉眼泪的。好了，好了！”他慈爱地拍拍爱德蒙的肩膀继续说，“你做得很对，唐太斯，你是应该执行莱克勒船长的命令在厄尔巴岛靠一下岸的——但是如果你曾带一包东西给元帅，并还同陛下讲过话的事被人知道的话，那你就会受连累的。” 
“我怎么会受连累呢？”唐太斯问。“我连带去的是什么东西根本都不知道，而陛下所问及的，又是一般的人所常问的那些普通问题。哦，对不起，海关关员和卫生部的检查员来了１”说完那青年人就向舷门那儿迎过去了。 
他刚离开，腾格拉尔就凑了过来说道： 
“哦，看来他已拿出充分的理由来向您解释他为什么在费拉约港靠岸的原因了，是吧？” 
“是的，理由很充分，我亲爱的腾格拉尔。” 
“哦，那就好，”押运员说，“看到一个同伴工作上不能尽责，心里总是很难受的。” 
“唐太斯是尽了责的，”船主说道，“这件事不必多说了，这次耽搁是按莱克勒船长的吩咐做的。” 
“说到莱克勒船长，唐太斯没有把一封他的信转给你吗？” 
“给我的信？没有呀。有一封信吗？” 
“我相信除了那包东西外，莱克勒船长还另有一封信托他转交的。” 
“你说的是一包什么东西，腾格拉尔？” 
“咦，就是唐太斯在费拉约港留下的那包东西呀。” 
“你怎么知道他曾留了一包东西在费拉约港呢？” 
经船主这样一问，腾格拉尔的脸顿时涨红了。“那天我经过船长室门口时，那门是半开着的，我便看见船长把那包东西和一封信交给了唐太斯。” 
“他没有对我提到这件事，”船主说，“但是如果有信，他一定会交给我的。” 
腾格拉尔想了一会儿。“这样的话，莫雷尔先生，请你，”他说，“有关这事，请你别再去问唐太斯了，或许是我弄错了。” 
这时，那青年人回来了，腾格拉尔便乘机溜走了。 
“喂，我亲爱的唐太斯，你现在没事了吗？”船主问。 
“没事了，先生。” 
“你回来的挺快呀。” 
“是的。我拿了一份我们的进港证给了海关关员，其余的证件，我已交给了领港员，他们已派人和他同去了。” 
“那么你在这儿的事都做完了是吗？” 
唐太斯向四周看了一眼。 
“没事了现在一切都安排妥了。” 
“那么你愿意和我一起去共进晚餐吗？” 
“请你原谅，莫雷尔先生。我得先去看看我父亲。但对你的盛情我还是非常感激的。” 
“没错，唐太斯，真是这样，我早就知道你是一个好儿子。” 
“嗯”唐太斯犹豫了一下问道：“你知道我父亲的近况吗？” 
“我相信他很好，我亲爱的爱德蒙，不过最近我没见到他。” 
“是啊，他老爱把自己关在他那个小屋里。” 
“但那至少可以说明，当你不在的时候，他的日子还过得去。” 
唐太斯微笑了一下。“我父亲是很要强的，很要面子，先生。即便是他饿肚子没饭吃了，恐怕除了上帝以外，他不会向任何人去乞讨的。” 
“那么好吧，你先去看你的父亲吧，我们等着你。” 
“我恐怕还得再请你原谅，莫雷尔先生，——因为我看过父亲以后，我还有另外一个地方要去一下。” 
“真是的，唐太斯，我怎么给忘记了，在迦泰罗尼亚人那里，还有一个人也象你父亲一样在焦急地期待着你呢，——那可爱的美塞苔丝。” 
唐太斯的脸红了。 
“哈哈！”船主说，“难怪她到我这儿来了三次，打听法老号有什么消息没有呢。嘻嘻！爱德蒙，你的这位小情妇可真漂亮啊！” 
“她不是我的情妇，”青年水手神色庄重严肃地说，“她是我的未婚妻。” 
“有时两者是一回事。”莫雷尔微笑着说。 
“我们俩可不是这样的，先生。”唐太斯回答。 
“得了，得了，我亲爱的爱德蒙，”船主又说，“我不耽搁你了。我的事你办得很出色，我也应该让你有充分的时间去痛快地办一下自己的事了。你要钱用吗？” 
“不，先生，我的报酬还都在这儿，——差不多有三个月的薪水呢。” 
“你真是一个守规矩的小伙子，爱德蒙。” 
“我还有一位可怜的父亲呢，先生。” 
“不错，不错，我知道你是一个好儿子。那么去吧，去看你的父亲去吧。我自己也有个儿子，要是他航海三个月回来后，竟还有人阻扰他来看我，我会大大地发火的。” 
“那么我可以走了吗，先生？” 
“走吧，假如你再没有什么事要跟我说的话。” 
“没有了。” 
“莱克勒船长临终前，没有托你交一封信给我吗？” 
“他当时已经根本不能动笔了，先生。不过，我倒想起了一件事，我还得向你请两星期的假。” 
“是去结婚吗？” 
“是的，先是去结婚，然后还得到巴黎去一次。” 
“好，好。你就离开两个星期吧，唐太斯。反正船上卸货得花六个星期，卸完货以后，还得要过三个月以后才能再出海，你只要在三个月以内回来就行，——因为法老号，”船主拍拍青年水手的背，又说，“没有船长是不能出海的呀。” 
  
  
“没有船长！”唐太斯眼睛里闪烁着兴奋的光芒，不禁说道，“你说什么呀，你好象窥视到了我心底最秘密的一线希望。你真要任命我做法老号的船长吗？” 
“我亲爱的唐太斯，假如我是一人说了就算数的老板，我现在就可任命你，事情也就一言为定了，但你也知道，意大利有一句俗话——谁有了一个合伙人，谁就有了一个主人。但这事至少已成功一半了，因为在两张投票之中，你已经得到了一标。让我去把另外那一票也为你争取过来吧，我尽力办到。” 
“啊，莫雷尔先生，”青年水手的眼睛里含着泪水，紧握住船主的手喊道——“莫雷尔先生，我代表我父亲和美塞苔丝谢谢你了。” 
“好了，好了，爱德蒙，别提了，上天保佑好心人！快到你父亲那儿去吧，快去看看美塞苔丝吧，然后再到我这儿来。” 
“我把您送上岸好吗？” 
“不用了，谢谢你。我还得留下来和腾格拉尔核对一下帐目。你在这次航行里对他还满意吗？” 
“那得看您这个问题是指哪一方面了，先生。假如您的意思是问，他是不是一个好伙计？那么我要说不是，因为自从那次我傻里傻气地和他吵了一次架以后，我曾向他提议在基督山岛上停留十分钟以消除不愉快，我想他从那以后开始讨厌我了——那次的事我本来就不该提那个建议，而他拒绝我也是很对的。假如你的问题是指他做押运员是否称职，那我就说他是无可挑剔的，对他的工作你会满意的。” 
“但你要告诉我，唐太斯，假如由你来负责法老号，你愿意把腾格拉尔留在船上吗？” 
“莫雷尔先生，”唐太斯回答道，“无论我做船长也好，做大副也好，凡是那些能获得我们船主信任的人，我对他们总是极尊重的。” 
“好，好，唐太斯！我看你在各个方面都是好样的。别让我再耽误你了，快去吧，我看你已有些急不可耐啦。” 
“那么我可以走了吗？” 
“快走吧。我已经说过了。” 
“我可以借用一下您的小艇吗？” 
“当然可以。” 
“那么，莫雷尔先生，再会吧。再一次多谢啦！” 
“我希望不久能再看到你，我亲爱的爱德蒙。祝你好运！” 
青年水手跳上了小艇，坐在船尾，吩咐朝卡纳比埃尔街划去。两个水手即刻划动起来，小船就飞快地在那从港口直到奥尔兰码头的千百只帆船中间穿梭过去。 
船主微笑着目送着他，直到他上了岸，消失在卡纳比埃尔街上的人流里。这条街从清晨五点钟直到晚上九点钟都拥挤着川流不息的人群。卡纳比埃尔街是马赛最有名的街道，马赛的居民很以它为自豪，他们甚至煞有其事地庄重地宣称：“假如巴黎也有一条卡纳比埃尔街，那巴黎就可称为小马赛了。” 
船主转过身来时，看见腾格拉尔正站在他背后。腾格拉尔表面上看似在等候他的吩咐，实际上却象他一样，在用目光遥送那青年水手。这两个人虽然都在注视着爱德蒙·唐太斯，但两个人目光里的神情和含义却大不相同。 
Chapter 2 Father and Son
 WE WILL LEAVE Danglars struggling with the demon of hatred, and endeavoring to insinuate in the ear of the shipowner some evil suspicions against his comrade, and follow Dantès, who, after having traversed La Canebière, took the Rue de Noailles, and entering a small house, on the left of the Allées de Meillan, rapidly ascended four flights of a dark staircase, holding the baluster with one hand, while with the other he repressed the beatings of his heart, and paused before a half-open door, from which he could see the whole of a small room. This room was occupied by Dantès' father. The news of the arrival of the Pharaon had not yet reached the old man, who, mounted on a chair, was amusing himself by training with trembling hand the nasturtiums and sprays of clematis that clambered over the trellis at his window. Suddenly, he felt an arm thrown around his body, and a well-known voice behind him exclaimed, "Father--dear father!" 
The old man uttered a cry, and turned round; then, seeing his son, he fell into his arms, pale and trembling. 
"What ails you, my dearest father? Are you ill?" inquired the young man, much alarmed. 
"No, no, my dear Edmond--my boy--my son!--no; but I did not expect you; and joy, the surprise of seeing you so suddenly--Ah, I feel as if I were going to die." 
"Come, come, cheer up, my dear father! 'Tis I--really I! They say joy never hurts, and so I came to you without any warning. Come now, do smile, instead of looking at me so solemnly. Here I am back again, and we are going to be happy." 
"Yes, yes, my boy, so we will--so we will," replied the old man; "but how shall we be happy? Shall you never leave me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has befallen you." 
"God forgive me," said the young man, "for rejoicing at happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven knows, I did not seek this good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?" 
"Yes, my dear boy," replied the old man, "it is very fortunate." 
"Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden in which to plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, father? Are you not well?" 
"'Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away"--and as he said so the old man's strength failed him, and he fell backwards. 
"Come, come," said the young man, "a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?" 
"No, no; thanks. You need not look for it; I do not want it," said the old man. 
"Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is," and he opened two or three cupboards. 
"It is no use," said the old man, "there is no wine." 
"What, no wine?" said Dantès, turning pale, and looking alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. "What, no wine? Have you wanted money, father?" 
"I want nothing now that I have you," said the old man. 
"Yet," stammered Dantès, wiping the perspiration from his brow,--"yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago." 
"Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury" -- 
"Well?" 
"Why, I paid him." 
"But," cried Dantès, "it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse." 
"Yes," stammered the old man. 
"And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?" 
The old man nodded. 
"So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs," muttered Edmond. 
"You know how little I require," said the old man. 
"Heaven pardon me," cried Edmond, falling on his knees before his father. 
"What are you doing?" 
"You have wounded me to the heart." 
"Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man; "and now it's all over--everything is all right again." 
"Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said, "take this--take it, and send for something immediately." And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantès brightened. 
"Whom does this belong to?" he inquired. 
"To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and to-morrow we shall have more." "Gently, gently," said the old man, with a smile; "and by your leave I will use your purse moderately, for they would say, if they saw me buy too many things at a time, that I had been obliged to await your return, in order to be able to purchase them." 
"Do as you please; but, first of all, pray have a servant, father. I will not have you left alone so long. I have some smuggled coffee and most capital tobacco, in a small chest in the hold, which you shall have to-morrow. But, hush, here comes somebody." 
"'Tis Caderousse, who has heard of your arrival, and no doubt comes to congratulate you on your fortunate return." 
"Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another," murmured Edmond. "But, never mind, he is a neighbor who has done us a service on a time, so he's welcome." 
As Edmond paused, the black and bearded head of Caderousse appeared at the door. He was a man of twenty-five or six, and held a piece of cloth, which, being a tailor, he was about to make into a coat-lining. 
"What, is it you, Edmond, back again?" said he, with a broad Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his ivory-white teeth. 
"Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse; and ready to be agreeable to you in any and every way," replied Dantès, but ill-concealing his coldness under this cloak of civility. 
"Thanks--thanks; but, fortunately, I do not want for anything; and it chances that at times there are others who have need of me." Dantès made a gesture. "I do not allude to you, my boy. No!--no! I lent you money, and you returned it; that's like good neighbors, and we are quits." 
"We are never quits with those who oblige us," was Dantès' reply; "for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude." 
"What's the use of mentioning that? What is done is done. Let us talk of your happy return, my boy. I had gone on the quay to match a piece of mulberry cloth, when I met friend Danglars. 'You at Marseilles?'--'Yes,' says he. 
"'I thought you were at Smyrna.'--'I was; but am now back again.' 
"'And where is the dear boy, our little Edmond?' 
"'Why, with his father, no doubt,' replied Danglars. And so I came," added Caderousse, "as fast as I could to have the pleasure of shaking hands with a friend." 
"Worthy Caderousse!" said the old man, "he is so much attached to us." 
"Yes, to be sure I am. I love and esteem you, because honest folks are so rare. But it seems you have come back rich, my boy," continued the tailor, looking askance at the handful of gold and silver which Dantès had thrown on the table. 
The young man remarked the greedy glance which shone in the dark eyes of his neighbor. "Eh," he said, negligently. "this money is not mine. I was expressing to my father my fears that he had wanted many things in my absence, and to convince me he emptied his purse on the table. Come, father" added Dantès, "put this money back in your box--unless neighbor Caderousse wants anything, and in that case it is at his service." 
"No, my boy, no," said Caderousse. "I am not in any want, thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money--keep it, I say;--one never has too much;--but, at the same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if I took advantage of it." 
"It was offered with good will," said Dantès. 
"No doubt, my boy; no doubt. Well, you stand well with M. Morrel I hear,--you insinuating dog, you!" 
"M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me," replied Dantès. 
"Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him." "What, did you refuse to dine with him?" said old Dantès; "and did he invite you to dine?" 
"Yes, my dear father," replied Edmond, smiling at his father's astonishment at the excessive honor paid to his son. 
"And why did you refuse, my son?" inquired the old man. 
"That I might the sooner see you again, my dear father," replied the young man. "I was most anxious to see you." 
"But it must have vexed M. Morrel, good, worthy man," said Caderousse. "And when you are looking forward to be captain, it was wrong to annoy the owner." 
"But I explained to him the cause of my refusal," replied Dantès, "and I hope he fully understood it." 
"Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to one's patrons." 
"I hope to be captain without that," said Dantès. 
"So much the better--so much the better! Nothing will give greater pleasure to all your old friends; and I know one down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be sorry to hear it." 
"Mercédès?" said the old man. 
"Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the Catalans." 
"Go, my dear boy," said old Dantès: "and heaven bless you in your wife, as it has blessed me in my son!" 
"His wife!" said Caderousse; "why, how fast you go on, father Dantès; she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me." 
"So, but according to all probability she soon will be," replied Edmond. 
"Yes--yes," said Caderousse; "but you were right to return as soon as possible, my boy." 
"And why?" 
"Because Mercédès is a very fine girl, and fine girls never lack followers; she particularly has them by dozens." 
"Really?" answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it traces of slight uneasiness. 
"Ah, yes," continued Caderousse, "and capital offers, too; but you know, you will be captain, and who could refuse you then?" 
"Meaning to say," replied Dantès, with a smile which but ill-concealed his trouble, "that if I were not a captain"-- 
"Eh--eh!" said Caderousse, shaking his head. 
"Come, come," said the sailor, "I have a better opinion than you of women in general, and of Mercédès in particular; and I am certain that, captain or not, she will remain ever faithful to me." 
"So much the better--so much the better," said Caderousse. "When one is going to be married, there is nothing like implicit confidence; but never mind that, my boy,--go and announce your arrival, and let her know all your hopes and prospects." 
"I will go directly," was Edmond's reply; and, embracing his father, and nodding to Caderousse, he left the apartment. 
Caderousse lingered for a moment, then taking leave of old Dantès, he went downstairs to rejoin Danglars, who awaited him at the corner of the Rue Senac. 
"Well," said Danglars, "did you see him?" 
"I have just left him," answered Caderousse. 
"Did he allude to his hope of being captain?" 
"He spoke of it as a thing already decided." 
"Indeed!" said Danglars, "he is in too much hurry, it appears to me." 
"Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing." 
"So that he is quite elated about it?" 
"Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter--has already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he were a banker." 
"Which you refused?" 
"Most assuredly; although I might easily have accepted it, for it was I who put into his hands the first silver he ever earned; but now M. Dantès has no longer any occasion for assistance--he is about to become a captain." 
"Pooh!" said Danglars, "he is not one yet." 
"Ma foi! it will be as well if he is not," answered Caderousse; "for if he should be, there will be really no speaking to him." 
"If we choose," replied Danglars, "he will remain what he is; and perhaps become even less than he is." 
"What do you mean?" 
"Nothing--I was speaking to myself. And is he still in love with the Catalane?" 
"Over head and ears; but, unless I am much mistaken, there will be a storm in that quarter." 
"Explain yourself." 
"Why should I?" 
"It is more important than you think, perhaps. You do not like Dantès?" 
"I never like upstarts." 
"Then tell me all you know about the Catalane." 
"I know nothing for certain; only I have seen things which induce me to believe, as I told you, that the future captain will find some annoyance in the vicinity of the Vieilles Infirmeries." 
"What have you seen?--come, tell me!" 
"Well, every time I have seen Mercédès come into the city she has been accompanied by a tall, strapping, black-eyed Catalan, with a red complexion, brown skin, and fierce air, whom she calls cousin." 
"Really; and you think this cousin pays her attentions?" 
"I only suppose so. What else can a strapping chap of twenty-one mean with a fine wench of seventeen?" 
"And you say that Dantès has gone to the Catalans?" 
"He went before I came down." 
"Let us go the same way; we will stop at La Rèserve, and we can drink a glass of La Malgue, whilst we wait for news." 
"Come along," said Caderousse; "but you pay the score." 
"Of course," replied Danglars; and going quickly to the designated place, they called for a bottle of wine, and two glasses. 
Père Pamphile had seen Dantès pass not ten minutes before; and assured that he was at the Catalans, they sat down under the budding foliage of the planes and sycamores, in the branches of which the birds were singing their welcome to one of the first days of spring.    
第二章　父与子
 英文     我们暂且先放下不谈腾格拉尔如何怀着仇恨，竭力在船主莫雷尔的耳边讲他的同伴的坏话的。且说唐太斯横过了卡纳比埃尔街，顺着诺埃尹街转入梅兰巷，走进了靠左边的一家小房子里。他在黑暗的楼梯上一手扶着栏杆，一手按在他那狂跳的心上，急急地奔上了四层楼梯。他在一扇半开半掩的门前停了下来，那半开的门里是一个小房间。 
唐太斯的父亲就住在这个房间里。法老号到港的消息老人还不知道。这时他正踩在一张椅子上，用颤抖的手指在窗口绑扎牵牛花和萎草花，想编成一个花棚。突然他觉得一只手臂拦腰抱住了他，随即一个熟悉的声音在耳边喊起来，“父亲！亲爱的父亲！” 
老人惊叫了一声，转过身来，一看是自己的儿子，就颤巍巍地脸色惨白地倒在了他的怀抱中。 
“你怎么啦，我最亲爱的父亲！你病了吗？”青年吃惊地问。 
“不，不，我亲爱的爱德蒙——我的孩子——我的宝贝！不，我没想到你回来了。我真太高兴了，这样突然的看见你太让我激动了——天哪，我觉得我都快要死了。” 
“高兴点，亲爱的父亲！是我——真的是我！人们都说高兴绝不会有伤身体的，所以我就偷偷的溜了进来。嗨！对我笑笑，不要拿这种疑惑的眼光看我呀。是我回来啦，我们现在要过快活的日子了。” 
“孩子，我们要过快活的日子，——我们要过快活的日子，”老人说道。“但我们怎么才能快活呢？难道你会永远不再离开我了吗？来，快告诉我你交了什么好运了？” 
“愿上帝宽恕我：我的幸福是建立在另一家人丧亲的痛苦上的，但上帝知道我并不是自己要这样的。事情既然已经发生了，我实在无法装出那种悲哀的样子。父亲，我们那位好心的船长莱克勒先生他死了，承蒙莫雷尔先生的推荐，我极有可能接替他的位置。你懂吗，父亲？想想看，我二十岁就能当上船长，薪水是一百金路易［法国金币名。］，还可以分红利！这可是象我这样的穷水手以前连想都不敢想的呀。” 
“是的，我亲爱的孩子，”老人回答说，——“是的，这真是一桩大喜事的。” 
“嗯，等我拿到第一笔钱时，我就为你买一所房子，要带花园的，你可以在里面种种牵牛花，萎草花和皂荚花什么的。你怎么了，父亲，你不舒服吗？” 
“没什么，没什么，就会好的。”老人说着，终因年老体衰，力不从心，倒在了椅子里。 
“来，来，”青年说，“喝点酒吧，父亲，你就会好的。你把酒放在哪儿了？” 
“不，不用了，谢谢。你不用找了，我不喝。”老人说。 
“喝，一定要喝父亲，告诉我酒在什么地方？”唐太斯一面说着，一面打开了两三个碗柜。 
“你找不到的，”老人说，“没有酒了。” 
“什么！没有酒了？”唐太斯说，他的脸色渐渐变白了，看着老人那深陷的双颊，又看看那空空的碗柜——“什么！没有酒了？父亲，你缺钱用吗？” 
“我只要见到了你，就什么都不缺了。”老人说。 
“可是，”唐太斯擦了一把额头上的冷汗，嗫嚅地说，——“可是三个月前我临走的时候给你留下过两百法郎呀。” 
“是的，是的，爱德蒙，一点儿不错。但你当时忘了你还欠我们邻居卡德鲁斯一笔小债。他跟我提起了这件事，对我说，假如我不代你还债，他就会去找莫雷尔先生，去向他讨还，所以，为了免得你受影响……” 
“那么？” 
“哪，我就把钱还给他了。” 
“可是，”唐太斯叫了起来，“我欠了卡德鲁斯一百四十法朗埃！” 
“不错。”老人呐呐地说。 
“那就是说你就从我留给你的两百法朗里抽出来还了他了？” 
老人做了一个肯定的表示。 
“这么说，三个月来你就只靠六十个法朗来维持生活！”青年自言自语地说。 
“你知道我花销不大。”老人说。 
“噢，上帝饶恕我吧！”爱德蒙哭着跪到了老人的面前。 
“你这是怎么了？” 
“你使我感到太伤心了！” 
“这没什么，孩子。”老人说，“我一看到你，就什么都忘了，现在一切都好了。” 
“是啊，我回来了，”青年说，“带着一个幸福远大的前程和一点钱回来了。看，父亲，看！”他说，“拿着吧——拿着，赶快叫人去买点东西。”说着他翻开口袋，把钱全倒在桌子上，一共有十几块金洋，五六块艾居［法国银币名。］和一些小零币。老唐太斯的脸上顿时展开了笑容。 
“这些钱是谁的？”他问。 
“是我的！你的！我们的！拿着吧，去买些吃的东西。快活些，明天我们还会有更多的。” 
“小声点，轻点声，”老人微笑着说。”我还是把你的钱节省点用吧——因为大家要是看见我一次买了那么多的东西，就会说我非得等着你回来才能买得起那些东西。” 
“随你便吧，但最重要的，父亲，该先雇一个佣人。我决不再让你独自一个人长期孤零零地生活了。我私下带了一些咖啡和上等烟草，现在都放在船上的小箱子里，明天早晨我就可以拿来给你了。嘘，别出声！有人来了。” 
“是卡德鲁斯，他一定是听到了你回来的消息，知道你交了好运了，来向你道贺的。” 
“哼！口是心非的家伙，”爱德蒙轻声说道。“不过，他毕竟是我们的邻居，而且还帮过我们的忙，所以我们还是应该表示欢迎的。” 
爱德蒙的这句话刚轻声讲完，卡德鲁斯那个黑发蓬松的头便出现在门口。他看上去约莫二十五六岁，手里拿着一块布料，他原是一个裁缝，这块布料是他预备拿来做衣服的衬里用的。 
“怎么！真是你回来了吗，爱德蒙？”他带着很重的马赛口音开口说道，露出满口白得如象牙一样的牙齿笑着。 
“是的，我回来了，卡德鲁斯邻居，我正准备着想使你高兴一下呢。”唐太斯回答道，答话虽彬彬有礼，却仍掩饰不住他内心的冷淡。 
“谢谢，谢谢，不过幸亏我还不需要什么。倒是有时人家需要我的帮忙呢。”唐太斯不觉动了一下。“我不是指你，我的孩子。不，不！我借钱给你，你还了我。好邻居之间这种事是常有的，我们已经两清了。” 
“我们对那些帮助过我们的人是永远忘不了的。”唐太斯说，“因为我们虽还清了他们的钱，却还不清负他们的情的。” 
“还提它干什么？过去的都过去了。让我们来谈谈你这次幸运的归来的事儿吧，孩子。我刚才到码头上去配一块细花布，碰到了我们的朋友腾格拉尔。‘怎么！你也在马赛呀！’我当时就喊了出来。他说：‘是呀。’‘我还以为你在士麦拿呢。’‘不错，我去过那儿，但现在又回来了。’‘我那亲爱的小家伙爱德蒙他在哪儿，’我问他。腾格拉尔就回答说：‘一定在他父亲那儿。’所以我就急忙跑来了，”卡德鲁斯接着说，“来高高兴兴地和老朋友握手。” 
“好心的卡德鲁斯！”老人说，“他待我们多好啊！” 
“是呀，我当然要这样的，我爱你们，并且敬重你们，天底下好人可不多啊！我的孩子，你好象是发了财回来啦。”裁缝一面说，一面斜眼看着唐太斯抛在桌子上的那一把金币和银币。 
青年看出了从他邻居那黑眼睛里流露出的贪婪的目光。 
他漫不经心地说，“这些钱不是我的，父亲看出我担心，他当我不在的时候缺钱用，为了让我放心，就把他钱包里的钱都倒在桌子上给我看。来吧，父亲。”唐太斯接着说，“快把这些钱收回到你的箱子里去吧，——除非我们的邻居卡德鲁斯要用，我们倒是乐意帮这个忙的。” 
“不，孩子，不，”卡德鲁斯说，“我根本不需要，干我这行够吃的了。把你的钱收起来吧，——我说。一个人的钱不一定非得很多，我虽用不上你的钱，但对你的好意我还是很感激的。” 
“我可是真心的呀。”唐太斯说。 
“那当然，那当然。唔，我听说你和莫雷尔先生的关系不错，你这只得宠的小狗！” 
“莫雷尔先生待我一直特别友善。”唐太斯回答。 
“那么他请你吃饭你不该拒绝他呀。” 
“什么！你竟然回绝他请你吃饭？”老唐太斯说。“他邀请过你吃饭吗？” 
“是的，我亲爱的父亲。”爱德蒙回答。看到父亲因自己的儿子得到别人的器重而显出惊异的神情，便笑了笑。 
“孩子呀，你为什么拒绝呢？”老人问。 
“为了快点回来看你呀，我亲爱的父亲，”青年答道，“我太想你了。” 
“但你这样做一定会使可敬的莫雷尔先生不高兴的，”卡德鲁斯说。“尤其是当你快要升为船长的时候，是不该在这时得罪船主的。” 
“但我已把谢绝的理由向他解释过了，”唐太斯回答，“我想他会谅解的。” 
“但是要想当船长，就该对船主恭敬一点才好。” 
“我希望不恭顺也能当船长。”唐太斯说。 
“那更好，——那更好！你这个消息会让那些老朋友听了都高兴的，我还知道圣·尼古拉堡那边有一个人，听到这个好消息也会高兴的。” 
“你是说美塞苔丝吗？”老人说。 
“是的，我亲爱的父亲，现在我已经见过了你，知道你很好，并不缺什么，我就放心了。请允许我到迦太罗尼亚人的村里，好吗？” 
“去吧，我亲爱的孩子，”老唐太斯说，“望上帝保佑你的妻子，就如同保佑我的儿子一样！” 
“他的妻子！”卡德鲁斯说，“你说得太早了点吧，唐太斯老爹。她还没正式成为他的妻子呢。” 
“是这样的，但从各方面看，她肯定会成为我妻子的。”爱德蒙回答。 
“不错，不错，”卡德鲁斯说，“但你这次回来得很快，做得是对的，我的孩子。” 
“你这是什么意思？” 
“因为美塞苔丝是一位非常漂亮的姑娘，而漂亮姑娘总是不乏有人追求的。尤其是她，身后有上打的追求者呢。” 
“真的吗？”爱德蒙虽微笑着回答，但微笑里却流露出一点的不安。 
“啊，是的，“卡德鲁斯又说，“而且都是些条件不错的人呢，但你知道，你就要做船长了，她怎么会拒绝你呢？” 
“你是说，“唐太斯问道，他微笑着并没有掩饰住他的焦急，“假如我不是一个船长——” 
“唉，唉。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“得了，得了，”年轻的唐太斯说：“一般说来，对女人，我可比你了解的得多，尤其是美塞苔丝。我相信，不论我当不当船长，她都是忠诚于我的。” 
“那再好也没有了，卡德鲁斯说。“一个人快要结婚的时候，信心十足总是好事。别管这些了，我的孩子，快去报到吧，并把你的希望告诉她。” 
“我就去。”爱德蒙回答他，拥抱了一下他的父亲，挥挥手和卡德鲁斯告辞，就走出房间去了。 
卡德鲁斯又呆了一会，便离开老唐太斯，下楼去见腾格拉尔，后者正在西纳克街的拐角上等他。 
“怎么样，”腾格拉尔说，“你见到他了吗？” 
“我刚从他那儿来。” 
“他提到他希望做船长的事了吗？” 
“他说的若有其事，那口气就好象事情已经决定了似的。” 
“别忙！”腾格拉尔说，“依我看，他未免太心急了”。 
“怎么，这件事莫雷尔先生好象已经答应他了啦。” 
“这么说他已经在那儿自鸣得意了吗？” 
“他简直骄傲得很，已经要来关照我了。好象他是个什么大人物似的，而且还要借钱给我，好象是一个银行家。” 
“你拒绝了吗？” 
“当然，虽然我即便是接受了也问心无愧，因为他第一次摸到发亮的银币，还是我放到他手里的。但现在唐太斯先生已不再要人帮忙了，他就要做船长了。” 
“呸！”腾格拉尔说，“他现在还没有做成呢。” 
“他还是做不成的好，”卡德鲁斯回答，“不然我们就别想再跟他说上话了。” 
“假如我们愿意可以还让他爬上去，”腾格拉尔答道，“他爬不上去，或许不如现在呢。” 
“你这话是什么意思？” 
“没什么，我不过自己这么说着玩儿罢了。他还爱着那个漂亮的迦太尼亚小妞吗？” 
“简直爱得发疯了，但除非是我弄错了，在这方面他可能要遇到点麻烦了。” 
“你说清楚点。” 
“我干吗要说清楚呢？” 
“这件事或许比你想象得还要重要，你不喜欢唐太斯对吧？” 
“我一向不喜欢目空一切的人。” 
“那么关于迦太罗尼亚人的事，把你所知道的都告诉我吧。” 
“我所知道的可都不怎么确切，只是就我亲眼见的来说，我猜想那位未来的船长会在老医务所路附近。” 
“你知道些什么事，告诉我！” 
“是这样的，我每次看见美塞苔丝进城时，总有一个身材魁梧高大的迦太罗尼亚小伙子陪着她，那个人有一对黑色的眼睛，肤色褐中透红，很神气很威武，她叫他表哥。” 
“真的！那么你认为这位表兄在追求她吗？” 
“我只是这么想。一个身材魁梧的二十几岁的小伙子，对一个漂亮的十七岁的少女还能有什么别的想法呢？” 
“你说唐太斯已到迦太罗尼亚人那儿去了吗”？ 
“我没有下楼他就去了。” 
“那我们就到这条路上去吧，我们可以在瑞瑟夫酒家那儿等着，一面喝拉玛尔格酒，一面听听消息。” 
“谁向我们通消息呢？” 
“我们在半路上等着他呀，看一下他的神色怎么样，就知道了。” 
“走吧，”卡德鲁斯说，“但话说在前面，你来付酒钱。” 
“那当然，”腾格拉尔说道。他们快步走向约定的地点，要了瓶酒。 
邦非尔老爹看见唐太斯在十分钟以前刚刚过去。他们既确知了他还在迦太罗尼亚人的村里。便在长着嫩叶的梧桐树下和大枫树底下坐下来。头上的树枝间，小鸟们正在动人地合唱着，歌唱春天的好时光。
Chapter 3 The Catalans
 BEYOND A BARE, weather-worn wall, about a hundred paces from the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank their wine, was the village of the Catalans. Long ago this mysterious colony quitted Spain, and settled on the tongue of land on which it is to this day. Whence it came no one knew, and it spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, who understood Proven?al, begged the commune of Marseilles to give them this bare and barren promontory, where, like the sailors of old, they had run their boats ashore. The request was granted; and three months afterwards, around the twelve or fifteen small vessels which had brought these gypsies of the sea, a small village sprang up. This village, constructed in a singular and picturesque manner, half Moorish, half Spanish, still remains, and is inhabited by descendants of the first comers, who speak the language of their fathers. For three or four centuries they have remained upon this small promontory, on which they had settled like a flight of seabirds, without mixing with the Marseillaise population, intermarrying, and preserving their original customs and the costume of their mother-country as they have preserved its language. Our readers will follow us along the only street of this little village, and enter with us one of the houses, which is sunburned to the beautiful dead-leaf color peculiar to the buildings of the country, and within coated with whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A young and beautiful girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as velvety as the gazelle's, was leaning with her back against the wainscot, rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and strewing on the floor; her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a kind of restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with her arched and supple foot, so as to display the pure and full shape of her well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked, stocking. At three paces from her, seated in a chair which he balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten table, was a tall young man of twenty, or two-and-twenty, who was looking at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. He questioned her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of the young girl controlled his look. 
"You see, Mercédès," said the young man, "here is Easter come round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?" 
"I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you must be very stupid to ask me again." 
"Well, repeat it,--repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love, which had your mother's sanction. Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercédès, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my existence!" 
"At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, Fernand," replied Mercédès; "you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, 'I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another's.' Is not this true, Fernand?" 
"Yes, that is very true, Mercédès," replied the young man, "Yes, you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?" 
"You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom, and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, Fernand, because you are the son of my father's brother, because we were brought up together, and still more because it would give you so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very deeply that this fish which I go and sell, and with the produce of which I buy the flax I spin,--I feel very keenly, Fernand, that this is charity." 
"And if it were, Mercédès, poor and lone as you are, you suit me as well as the daughter of the first shipowner or the richest banker of Marseilles! What do such as we desire but a good wife and careful housekeeper, and where can I look for these better than in you?" 
"Fernand," answered Mercédès, shaking her head, "a woman becomes a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an honest woman, when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content with my friendship, for I say once more that is all I can promise, and I will promise no more than I can bestow." 
"I understand," replied Fernand, "you can endure your own wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. Well, Mercédès, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune; you would bring me good luck, and I should become rich. I could extend my occupation as a fisherman, might get a place as clerk in a warehouse, and become in time a dealer myself." 
"You could do no such thing, Fernand; you are a soldier, and if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war; so remain a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as I cannot give you more." 
"Well, I will do better, Mercédès. I will be a sailor; instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket, with an anchor on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?" 
"What do you mean?" asked Mercédès, with an angry glance,--"what do you mean? I do not understand you?" 
"I mean, Mercédès, that you are thus harsh and cruel with me, because you are expecting some one who is thus attired; but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is not, the sea is so to him." 
"Fernand," cried Mercédès, "I believed you were good-hearted, and I was mistaken! Fernand, you are wicked to call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God! Yes, I will not deny it, I do await, and I do love him of whom you speak; and, if he does not return, instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I will tell you that he died loving me and me only." The young girl made a gesture of rage. "I understand you, Fernand; you would be revenged on him because I do not love you; you would cross your Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered, and see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. Believe me, to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that man. No, Fernand, you will not thus give way to evil thoughts. Unable to have me for your wife, you will content yourself with having me for your friend and sister; and besides," she added, her eyes troubled and moistened with tears, "wait, wait, Fernand; you said just now that the sea was treacherous, and he has been gone four months, and during these four months there have been some terrible storms." 
Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears which flowed down the cheeks of Mercédès, although for each of these tears he would have shed his heart's blood; but these tears flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up and down the hut, and then, suddenly stopping before Mercédès, with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched,--"Say, Mercédès," he said, "once for all, is this your final determination?" 
"I love Edmond Dantès," the young girl calmly replied, "and none but Edmond shall ever be my husband." 
"And you will always love him?" 
"As long as I live." 
Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in the face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said,--"But if he is dead"-- 
"If he is dead, I shall die too." 
"If he has forgotten you"-- 
"Mercédès!" called a joyous voice from without,--"Mercédès!" 
"Ah," exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and fairly leaping in excess of love, "you see he has not forgotten me, for here he is!" And rushing towards the door, she opened it, saying, "Here, Edmond, here I am!" 
Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at the sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. Edmond and Mercédès were clasped in each other's arms. The burning Marseilles sun, which shot into the room through the open door, covered them with a flood of light. At first they saw nothing around them. Their intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world, and they only spoke in broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly Edmond saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for which he could scarcely account to himself, the young Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. 
"Ah, your pardon," said Dantès, frowning in his turn; "I did not perceive that there were three of us." Then, turning to Mercédès, he inquired, "Who is this gentleman?" 
"One who will be your best friend, Dantès, for he is my friend, my cousin, my brother; it is Fernand--the man whom, after you, Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do you not remember him?" 
"Yes!" said Dantès, and without relinquishing Mercédès hand clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the Catalan with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to this amiable gesture, remained mute and trembling. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercédès, and then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him all, and his anger waxed hot. 
"I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was to meet an enemy here." 
"An enemy!" cried Mercédès, with an angry look at her cousin. "An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond! If I believed that, I would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles, leaving the house to return to it no more." 
Fernand's eye darted lightning. "And should any misfortune occur to you, dear Edmond," she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, "if misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it." 
Fernand became deadly pale. "But you are deceived, Edmond," she continued. "You have no enemy here--there is no one but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend." 
And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly towards Edmond, and offered him his hand. His hatred, like a powerless though furious wave, was broken against the strong ascendancy which Mercédès exercised over him. Scarcely, however, had he touched Edmond's hand than he felt he had done all he could do, and rushed hastily out of the house. 
"Oh," he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair--"Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched--wretched that I am!" 
"Hallo, Catalan! Hallo, Fernand! where are you running to?" exclaimed a voice. 
The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under an arbor. 
"Well", said Caderousse, "why don't you come? Are you really in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with your friends?" 
"Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them," added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air, but did not say a word. 
"He seems besotted," said Danglars, pushing Caderousse with his knee. "Are we mistaken, and is Dantès triumphant in spite of all we have believed?" 
"Why, we must inquire into that," was Caderousse's reply; and turning towards the young man, said, "Well, Catalan, can't you make up your mind?" 
Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow, and slowly entered the arbor, whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses, and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. 
"Good-day," said he. "You called me, didn't you?" And he fell, rather than sat down, on one of the seats which surrounded the table. 
"I called you because you were running like a madman, and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea," said Caderousse, laughing. "Why, when a man has friends, they are not only to offer him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!" 
Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table. 
"Well, Fernand, I must say," said Caderousse, beginning the conversation, with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy, "you look uncommonly like a rejected lover;" and he burst into a hoarse laugh. 
"Bah!" said Danglars, "a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love. You are laughing at him, Caderousse." 
"No," he replied, "only hark how he sighs! Come, come, Fernand," said Caderousse, "hold up your head, and answer us. It's not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health." 
"My health is well enough," said Fernand, clinching his hands without raising his head. 
"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his friend, "this is how it is; Fernand, whom you see here, is a good and brave Catalan, one of the best fishermen in Marseilles, and he is in love with a very fine girl, named Mercédès; but it appears, unfortunately, that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon; and as the Pharaon arrived to-day--why, you understand!" 
"No; I do not understand," said Danglars. 
"Poor Fernand has been dismissed," continued Caderousse. 
"Well, and what then?" said Fernand, lifting up his head, and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his anger; "Mercédès is not accountable to any person, is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?" 
"Oh, if you take it in that sense," said Caderousse, "it is another thing. But I thought you were a Catalan, and they told me the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival. It was even told me that Fernand, especially, was terrible in his vengeance." 
Fernand smiled piteously. "A lover is never terrible," he said. 
"Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars, affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart. "Why, you see, he did not expect to see Dantès return so suddenly--he thought he was dead, perhaps; or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly." 
"Ah, ma foi, under any circumstances," said Caderousse, who drank as he spoke, and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect,--"under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantès; is he, Danglars?" 
"No, you are right--and I should say that would bring him ill-luck." 
"Well, never mind," answered Caderousse, pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand, and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time, while Danglars had merely sipped his. "Never mind--in the meantime he marries Mercédès--the lovely Mercédès--at least he returns to do that." 
During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man, on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead. 
"And when is the wedding to be?" he asked. 
"Oh, it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand. 
"No, but it will be," said Caderousse, "as surely as Dantès will be captain of the Pharaon--eh, Danglars?" 
Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack, and turned to Caderousse, whose countenance he scrutinized, to try and detect whether the blow was premeditated; but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness. 
"Well," said he, filling the glasses, "let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantès, husband of the beautiful Catalane!" 
Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand, and swallowed the contents at a gulp. Fernand dashed his on the ground. 
"Eh, eh, eh!" stammered Caderousse. "What do I see down there by the wall, in the direction of the Catalans? Look, Fernand, your eyes are better than mine. I believe I see double. You know wine is a deceiver; but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side, and hand in hand. Heaven forgive me, they do not know that we can see them, and they are actually embracing!" 
Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. 
"Do you know them, Fernand?" he said. 
"Yes," was the reply, in a low voice. "It is Edmond and Mercédès!" 
"Ah, see there, now!" said Caderousse; "and I did not recognize them! Hallo, Dantès! hello, lovely damsel! Come this way, and let us know when the wedding is to be, for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us." 
"Hold your tongue, will you?" said Danglars, pretending to restrain Caderousse, who, with the tenacity of drunkards, leaned out of the arbor. "Try to stand upright, and let the lovers make love without interruption. See, look at Fernand, and follow his example; he is well-behaved!" 
Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by Danglars, as the bull is by the bandilleros, was about to rush out; for he had risen from his seat, and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival, when Mercédès, smiling and graceful, lifted up her lovely head, and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died, and dropped again heavily on his seat. Danglars looked at the two men, one after the other, the one brutalized by liquor, the other overwhelmed with love. 
"I shall get nothing from these fools," he muttered; "and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath, and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards, Sicilians, and Calabrians, and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow. Unquestionably, Edmond's star is in the ascendant, and he will marry the splendid girl--he will be captain, too, and laugh at us all, unless"--a sinister smile passed over Danglars' lips--"unless I take a hand in the affair," he added. 
"Hallo!" continued Caderousse, half-rising, and with his fist on the table, "hallo, Edmond! do you not see your friends, or are you too proud to speak to them?" 
"No, my dear fellow!" replied Dantès, "I am not proud, but I am happy, and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride." 
"Ah, very well, that's an explanation!" said Caderousse. "How do you do, Madame Dantès?" 
Mercédès courtesied gravely, and said--"That is not my name, and in my country it bodes ill fortune, they say, to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. So call me Mercédès, if you please." 
"We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse," said Dantès, "he is so easily mistaken." 
"So, then, the wedding is to take place immediately, M. Dantès," said Danglars, bowing to the young couple. 
"As soon as possible, M. Danglars; to-day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father's, and to-morrow, or next day at latest, the wedding festival here at La Rèserve. My friends will be there, I hope; that is to say, you are invited, M. Danglars, and you, Caderousse." 
"And Fernand," said Caderousse with a chuckle; "Fernand, too, is invited!" 
"My wife's brother is my brother," said Edmond; "and we, Mercédès and I, should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time." 
Fernand opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died on his lips, and he could not utter a word. 
"To-day the preliminaries, to-morrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry, captain!" 
"Danglars," said Edmond, smiling, "I will say to you as Mercédès said just now to Caderousse, 'Do not give me a title which does not belong to me'; that may bring me bad luck." 
"Your pardon," replied Danglars, "I merely said you seemed in a hurry, and we have lots of time; the Pharaon cannot be under weigh again in less than three months." 
"We are always in a hurry to be happy, M. Danglars; for when we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in haste; I must go to Paris." 
"Ah, really?--to Paris! and will it be the first time you have ever been there, Dantès?" 
"Yes." 
"Have you business there?" 
"Not of my own; the last commission of poor Captain Leclere; you know to what I allude, Danglars--it is sacred. Besides, I shall only take the time to go and return." 
"Yes, yes, I understand," said Danglars, and then in a low tone, he added, "To Paris, no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand marshal gave him. Ah, this letter gives me an idea--a capital idea! Ah; Dantès, my friend, you are not yet registered number one on board the good ship Pharaon;" then turning towards Edmond, who was walking away, "A pleasant journey," he cried. 
"Thank you," said Edmond with a friendly nod, and the two lovers continued on their way, as calm and joyous as if they were the very elect of heaven.    
第三章　迦太罗尼亚人的村庄 
 英文     那二位朋友一面喝着泛着泡沫的拉玛尔格酒，一面竖着耳朵，留神着百步开外的一个地方。那儿，在一座光秃秃的被风雨无情的侵蚀了的小山的后面，有一个小村庄，便是罗尼亚人居住的地方。很久以前有一群神秘的移民离开西班牙，来到了这块突出在海湾里的地带安居下来了，一直生活到现在，当时没有人知道他们从什么地方来。也没有人能够听懂他们所说的话。移民中的一位首领懂普罗旺斯语，就恳求马赛市政当局把这块荒芜贫瘠的海岬赐给他们，以便他们可以象古代的航海者那样把他们的小船拖到岸上安居下来。当局同意了他们的这个要求。三个月后，在那十四五艘当初运载这些移民渡海而来的小帆船周围，就兴建了一个小小的村庄。这个村庄的建筑风格独树一帜，一半似西班牙风格，一半似摩尔风格，别有情趣，现在的居民就是当初那些人的后代，他们还是说着他们祖先的语言。三四百年来，他们象一群海鸟似的一心一意地依恋在这块小海岬上，与马赛人界限分明，他们族内通婚，保持着他们原有的风俗习惯，犹如保持他们的语言一样。 
读者仍请随我穿过这小村子里惟一的一条街，走进其中的一所房子里，这所房子的墙外爬满了颇具乡村风味的藤类植物，阳光普照着那些枯死的叶子，上面涂上了一层美丽的色彩，房子里面是用象西班牙旅馆里那样千篇一律的石灰粉刷的。一个年轻美貌的姑娘正斜靠在壁板上，她的头发黑得象乌玉一般，眼睛象羚羊的眼睛一般温柔，她那富有古希腊雕刻之美的纤细的手指，正在抚弄一束石南花，那花瓣被撕碎了散播在地板上。她的手臂一直裸到肘部，露出了被日光晒成褐色的那部分，美得象维纳斯女神的手一样。她那双柔软好看的脚上穿着纱袜，踝处绣着灰蓝色的小花，由于内心焦燥不安，一只脚正在轻轻地拍打着地面，好象故意要展露出她那丰满匀称小腿似的。离她不远处，坐着一个年约二十二岁的高大青年，他跷起椅子的两条后腿不住地摇晃着，手臂支撑在一张被蛀虫蚀的旧桌子上，他在注视着她，脸上一副烦恼不安的神色。 
他在用眼睛询问她，但年轻姑娘以坚决而镇定的目光控制住了他。 
“你看，美塞苔丝，”那青年说道，“复活节快要到了，你说，这不正是结婚的好时候吗？” 
“我已经对你说过一百次啦，弗尔南多。你再问下去是自寻烦恼了。” 
“唉，再说一遍吧，我求求你，再说一遍吧，这样我才会相信！就算说一百遍也好。说你拒绝我的爱。那可是你母亲曾经许诺过，让我进一步了解你不关心我的幸福，对我的死活一点不放在心上，唉！十年来我一直梦想着成为你的丈夫，美塞苔丝，而现在你却使我的希望破灭了，那可是我活在世上惟一的希望啊！” 
“可这毕竟不是我让你抱那种希望的，弗尔南多，”美塞苔丝回答说，“你怪不得我，我从未诱惑过你。我一直都对你说，‘我只把你看作我的哥哥，别向我要求超出兄妹之爱的感情，因为我的心早已属于另外一个人了。’我不是一直都对你这样说的吗，弗尔南多？” 
“是的，我知道得很清楚，美塞苔丝，”青年回答道。“是的，你对我坦白，这固然很好，但毕竟残酷。你忘记了同族通婚是我们迦太罗尼亚人的一条神圣的法律了吗？” 
“你错了，弗尔南多，那不是一条什么法律，只不过是一种风俗罢了。我求你不要靠这种风俗来帮你的忙啦，你已到了服兵役的年龄，目前只是暂时缓征，你随时都可能应征入伍的。旦当了兵，你怎么来安置我呢？我——一个无依无靠的孤儿，没有财产，只有一间快塌了的小屋和一些破烂的渔网，这点可怜的遗产还是我父亲传给我母亲，我母亲又传给我的呢。弗尔南多，你也知道我母亲去世已一年多了，我几乎完全靠着大伙儿救济才得以维持生计，你有时装着要我帮你的忙，好借此让我分享你捕鱼得来的收获，我接受了，弗尔南多，因为你是我的表兄，我们从小一起长大的，更因为，假如我拒绝，会伤了你的心。但我心里很明白，我拿这些鱼去卖，换亚麻纺线——弗尔南多，这和施舍有什么两样呢！” 
“那又有什么关系呢？美塞苔丝，尽管你这样孤单穷苦，但你仍然象最骄傲的船主女儿或马赛最有钱的银行家的小姐，完全配得上我的！对我来说，我只要一个忠心的女人和好主妇，可我现在到哪儿才能找到一个在这两方面比你更好的人呢？” 
“弗尔南多，”美塞苔丝摇摇头说道，“一个女人能否成为一个好主妇倒很难说，但假如她爱着另外一个人甚于爱她的丈夫，谁还能说她是一个忠心的女人呢？请你满足于我们之间的友谊吧，我对你再说一遍，只能对你许诺这些，我无法许诺我不能给你的东西。” 
“我懂了，”弗尔南多回答说，“你可以忍受自己的穷困，却怕我受穷，那么，美塞苔丝，只要有了你的爱，我就会去努力奋斗。你会给我带来好运的，我会发财的，我可以扩大我的渔业，或许还可以找到一个货仓管理员的职位，到时候我就可以成为一个商人了。” 
“你是不能去做这种事的，你是个士兵，你之所以还能留在村里，那是因为现在没有战争。所以，你还是做一个渔夫吧。 
别胡思乱想了，因为梦想会使你觉得现实更令人难以忍受。就以我的友谊为满足吧，因为我实在不能给你超出这点以外的情感。” 
“那么，你说得对，美塞苔丝。既然你鄙视我们祖先传下来的这身衣服，我就脱掉它。去当一名水手，戴一顶闪光的帽子，穿一件水手衫，外加一件蓝色的短外套，纽扣上镶有铁锚。这样一身打扮该讨你喜欢了吧？” 
“你这是什么意思？”美塞苔丝忿忿的瞟了他一眼。“——你在胡说些什么？我不懂。” 
“我的意思是，美塞苔丝，你之所以对我如此冷酷无情，都是因为你在等一个人，他就是这样一身打扮。不过也许你所等待的这个人是靠不住的，即使他自己可靠，大海对他是否可靠可就难说了。” 
“弗尔南多！”美塞苔丝高声喊了起来，“我原以为你是个心地善良的人，现在我才知道我错了！弗尔南多，你祈求上帝降怒来帮助你泄私愤真是太卑鄙了！是的，我不否认，我是在等待着，我是爱你所指的那个人，即使他不回来，我也不相信他会象你所说的那样靠不住，我相信他至死都只会爱我一个人。” 
迦太罗尼亚青年显出忿忿的样子。 
“我知道你心里怎么想的，弗尔南多，因为我不爱你，所以你对他怀恨在心，你会用你的迦太罗尼亚短刀去同他的匕首决斗的。可那终究又能得到什么结果呢？假如你失败了，你就会失去我的友谊，假如你打败了他，你就会看到我对你的友谊变成了仇恨。相信我，想靠和一个男人去打架来赢得爱那个男人的女人的心，这种方法简直太笨了。不，弗尔南多，你决不能有这种坏念头。无法使我做你的妻子，你还可以把我看作你的朋友和妹妹的。”她的眼睛里已含着泪水，茫然地说，“等着吧，等着吧，弗尔南多！你刚才说海是变幻莫测的，他已经去了四个月了，这四个月中曾有过几次险恶的风暴。” 
弗尔南多没有回答，他也不想去擦掉美塞苔丝脸上的泪水，虽然那每一滴眼泪都好象在他的心上在每一滴血一样，但这些眼泪并非是为他恰恰相反是为另一个人流的，他站起身来，在小屋里踱来踱去，然后他突然脸色阴沉地捏紧了拳头在美塞苔丝面前停了下来，对她说，“美塞苔丝，求你再说一遍，这是不是你最后的决定？” 
“我爱爱德蒙·唐太斯，”姑娘平静地说，“除了爱德蒙，谁也不能做我的丈夫。” 
“你永远爱他吗？” 
“我活一天，就爱他一天。” 
弗尔南多象一个战败了的战士垂下了头，长长地出了一口气，突然他又抬起头来望着她，咬牙切齿地说：“假如他死——” 
“假如他死了，我也跟着死。” 
“美塞苔丝！”这时一个声音突然在屋外兴冲冲地叫了起来，“美塞苔丝！” 
“啊！”青年女子的脸因兴奋而涨的通红，兴奋地一跃而起，“你看，他没有忘记我，他来了！”她冲到门口，打开门，说，“爱德蒙，我在这儿呢！” 
弗尔南多脸色苍白，全身颤抖，象看见了一条赤练蛇的游人一般，他向后缩去，踉踉跄跄地靠在椅子上，一下子坐了下去。爱德蒙和美塞苔丝互相紧紧地拥抱着，马赛耀眼的阳光从开着门的房间走来，把他们照射在光波里面。他们瞬时忘掉了一切。极度地快活仿佛把他们与世隔绝，他们只能断断续续地讲话，这是因为他们高兴地到了极点，当人们极端高兴时，表面看来反象悲伤，突然爱德蒙发现了弗尔南多那张阴沉的脸，这张埋在阴影里的脸带着威胁的神气。那迦太罗尼亚青年不自觉动了一下，下意识地按了按在腰部皮带上的短刀。 
“啊，对不起！”唐太斯皱着眉头转过身来说，“我不知道这儿有三个人。”然后他转过身去问美塞苔丝，“这位先生是谁？” 
“这位先生将要成为你最好的朋友，唐太斯，因为他是我的朋友，我的堂兄，我的哥哥，他叫弗尔南多——除了你以外，爱德蒙，他就是世界上我最喜爱的人了。你不记得他了吗？” 
“是的，记得，”爱德蒙说道，他并没有放开美塞苔丝的手，用一只手握着美塞苔丝，另一只手亲热地伸给了那个迦太罗尼亚人。但弗尔南多对这个友好的表示毫无反映，依旧象一尊石像似的一动也不动。爱德蒙于是拿回手，仔细看了看这边正在焦急为难的美塞苔丝，又看了看那边怀着阴郁敌意的弗尔南多。这一看他全明白了，他脸色立刻变了，有点发怒了。 
“我如此匆忙地赶来，想不到在这儿会遇到一个对头。” 
“一个对头！”美塞苔丝愤怒地扫了她堂兄一眼，喊道，“你说什么，爱德蒙，我家里有一个对头？假如果真如此，我就要挽起你的胳膊，我们一同到马赛去，离开这个家，永远不回来了。” 
弗尔南多的眼里几乎射出火来。 
“要是你遭到什么不幸，亲爱的爱德蒙，”姑娘继续镇静地说下去，使弗尔南多觉得她已洞悉他心底深处的坏念头，“要是你真的遭到不幸，我就爬到莫尔吉翁海角的岩石上去，从那儿跳下去，永远葬身海底。” 
弗尔南多脸色惨白，象死人一样。 
“你弄错啦，爱德蒙，”她又说，“这儿没有你的对头——这儿只有我的哥哥弗尔南多，他会象一个老朋友那样跟你握手的。” 
年轻姑娘说完最后这句话，便把她那威严的眼光盯住迦太罗尼亚人弗尔南多，后者则象被那睛光催眠了一样，慢慢地向爱德蒙走来，伸出了他的手。他的仇恨象一个来势汹猛却又无力的浪头，被美塞苔丝所说的一番话击得粉碎。刚一触到爱德蒙的手，他就觉得再也无法忍受了，于是便一下子冲出屋子去了。 
“噢！噢！”他喊着，象个疯子似的狂奔着，双手狠狠地猛抓自己的头发，——“噢！谁能帮我除掉这个人？我真是太不幸了！” 
“喂，迦太罗尼亚人！喂弗尔南多！你到哪儿去？”一个声音传来。 
那青年突然停了下来，环顾四周，看见卡德鲁斯和腾格拉尔在一个凉棚里对桌而坐。 
“喂，”卡德鲁斯说，“你怎么不过来呀？难道你就这么连向你的老朋友打声招呼的时间都没有了吗？” 
“尤其是当他们面前还放着满满一瓶洒的时候。”腾格拉尔接上一句。 
弗尔南多带着一种恍恍惚惚的眼神望着他们，什么也没说。 
“他看上去不大对头，”腾格拉尔碰碰卡德鲁斯的膝盖说。 
“别是我们弄错了，唐太斯得胜了吧？” 
“唔，我们来问个明白吧，”卡德鲁斯说着，就转过身去对那青年说道，“喂，迦太罗尼亚人，你拿定主意了吗？” 
弗尔南多擦了擦额头上的冷汗，慢慢地走入凉棚，在那凉棚中，荫凉似乎使他平静了些，清爽的空气使他那精疲力尽的身体重新振作了一些。 
“你们好！”他说道，“是你们叫我吗？”说着他便重重地在桌子旁边的椅子上坐了下来，象瘫下来似的。 
“我看你象个疯子似的乱跑，就叫了你一声，怕你去跳海，”卡德鲁斯大笑着说。“见鬼！一个人有了朋友，不但得请他喝酒，还得劝阻他不要没事找事地去喝三四品顺水！” 
（法国旧时一种液体容量单位，“一品顺”等于零点九三升。） 
弗尔南多象是在呻吟似的叹了一口气，一下子伏在了桌子上，把脸埋在两只手掌里。 
“咦，我说，弗尔南多，”卡德鲁斯一开头就戳到了对方痛处，这种小市民气的人由于好奇心竟忘记了说话的技巧，“你的脸色看上去很不对劲，象是失恋了似的。”说完便爆发出一阵粗鲁的大笑。 
“得了罢！”腾格拉尔说，“象他那样棒的青年小伙子怎么会在情场上吃败仗呢。卡德鲁斯，你别开他的玩笑了！” 
“不，”卡德鲁斯答道，“你只要听听他叹息的声音就知道了！得了，得了，弗尔南多把头抬起来，跟我们说说看。朋友们可是最关心你的健康，你不回答我们可不太好呀。” 
“我很好，没生什么玻”弗尔南多紧握双拳，头依然没抬起来说。“啊！你看，腾格拉尔，”卡德鲁斯对他的朋友使了个眼色，说道，“是这么回事，现在在你眼前的弗尔南多，他是一个勇敢的迦太罗尼亚人，是马赛首屈一指的渔夫。他爱上了一位非常漂亮的姑娘，芳名叫美塞苔丝，不幸得很，那位漂亮姑娘却偏偏爱着法老号上的大副，今天法老号到了——你该明白这其中的奥妙了吧！” 
“不，我不明白。”腾格拉尔说。 
“可怜的弗尔南多，竟然被人家姑娘给拒绝了。”卡德鲁斯补充说。 
“是的，可这又怎么样？”弗尔南多猛地抬起头来，眼睛直盯着卡德鲁斯，象要找谁来出气似的。“谁管得着美塞苔丝？她要爱谁就爱谁，不是吗？” 
“哦！如果你偏要这么说，可就是另一回事了！”卡德鲁斯说。“我以为你是个真正的迦太罗尼亚人呢，人家告诉我说，凡是迦太罗尼亚人是绝不会让对手夺去一样东西的。人家甚至还对我说，尤其是弗尔南多，他的报复心可重了。” 
弗尔南多凄然微笑了一下，“一个情人是永远不会使人害怕的！”他说。 
“可怜的人！”腾格拉尔说，他假装感动得同情起这个青年来。“唉，你看，他没料到唐太斯会这样突然地回来。他正以为他已经在海上死了，或碰巧移情别恋了！突然发生了这种事，的确是很令人难受的。” 
“唉，真的，但无论如何，”卡德鲁斯一面说话，一面喝酒，这时拉马尔格酒的酒劲已开始在发作了，——“不管怎么说，这次唐太斯回来可是交了好运了，受打击的不只是弗尔南多一个人，腾格拉尔？” 
“哦，你的话没错，不过要我说他自己也快要倒霉了！” 
“嗯，别提了，”卡德鲁斯说，他给弗尔南多倒了一杯酒，也给自己倒了一杯，这已是他喝的也不知是第八杯还是第九杯了，而腾格拉尔始终只是抿一下酒杯而已。没关系你就等着看他是怎样娶那位可爱的美塞苔丝吧，——他这次回来就是来办这件事的。” 
腾格拉尔这时以锐利的目光盯着那青年，卡德鲁斯的话字字句句都融进了那青年的心里。 
“他们什么结婚时候？”他问。 
“还没决定！”弗尔南多低声地说。 
“不过，快了，”卡德鲁斯说，“这是肯定的，就象唐太斯肯定就要当法老号的船长一样。呃，对不对。腾格拉尔？” 
腾格拉尔被这个意外的攻击吃了一惊，他转身向卡德鲁斯，细察他的脸部的表情，看看他是不是故意的，但他在那张醉醉醺醺的脸上看到了嫉妒。 
“来吧，”他倒满三只酒杯说：“我们来为爱德蒙·唐太斯船长，为美丽的迦太罗尼亚女人的丈夫干一杯！” 
卡德鲁斯哆嗦着的手把杯子送到嘴边，咕咚一声一饮而进。弗尔南多则把酒杯掉在了地上，杯子碎了。 
“呃，呃，呃，”卡德鲁斯舌头发硬的说。“迦太罗尼亚人村那边，小山岗上那是什么东西呀？看弗尔南多！你的眼睛比我好使。我一点也看不清楚。你知道酒是骗人的家伙，但我敢说那是一对情人，正手挽手地在那儿并肩散步。老天爷！他们不知道我们能看见他们，这会儿他们正在拥抱呢！” 
腾格拉尔当然不会放过让弗尔南多更加痛苦的机会。 
“你认识他们吗，弗尔南多先生？”他说。 
“认识，”那青年低声回答。“那是爱德蒙先生和美塞苔丝小姐！” 
“啊！看那儿，喏！”卡德鲁斯说，“人怎么竟认不出他们呢！喂，唐太斯，喂，美丽的姑娘！到这边来，告诉我们，你们什么时候举行婚礼，因为弗尔南多先生就是不告诉我们！” 
“你别嚷好吗？”腾格拉尔故意阻止卡德鲁斯，后者却要说下去的样子带着醉鬼的拗性，已把头探出了凉棚。“为人要公道一点，让那对情人安安静静地去谈情说爱吧。看咱们的弗尔南多先生，向人家学习一下吧，人家这才叫通情达理！” 
弗尔南多已被腾格拉尔挑逗得忍无可忍了，他象一头被激怒的公牛，忽地一下站了起来，好象憋足了一股劲要向他的敌人冲去似的。正在这时，美塞苔丝带着微笑优雅地抬起她那张可爱的脸，闪动着她那对明亮的眸子。一看到这对眼睛，弗尔南多就想起她曾发出的威胁，便又沉重地跌回了他的座位上了。腾格拉尔对这两个人，看看这个又看看那个，一个在发酒疯，另一个却完全被爱征服了。 
“我跟这个傻瓜打交道是搞不出什么名堂来的，”他默默地自语道，“我竟在这儿夹在了一个是醉鬼，一个是懦夫中间，这真让我不安，可这个迦太罗尼亚人那闪光的眼睛却象西班牙人、西西里人和卡拉布兰人，而他不仅将要娶到一位漂亮的姑娘，而且又要做船长，他可以嘲笑我们这些人，除非——”腾格拉尔的嘴边浮起一个阴险的微笑——“除非我来做点什么干涉一下。”他加上了一句。 
“喂！”卡德鲁斯继续喊道，并用拳头撑住桌子，抬起了半个身子——“喂，爱德蒙！你竟究是没看见你的朋友呢，还是春风得意不愿和他们讲话？” 
“不是的，我的亲爱的朋友，”唐太斯回答，“我不是什么骄傲，只是我太快活了，而想快活是比骄傲更容易使人盲目的。” 
“呀，这倒是一种说法！”卡德鲁斯说。“噢，您好唐太斯夫人！” 
美塞苔丝庄重地点头示意说：“现在请先别这么称呼我，在我的家乡，人们说，对一个未结婚的姑娘，就拿她未婚夫的姓名称呼她，是会给她带来恶运的。所以，请你还是叫我美塞苔丝吧。” 
“我们得原谅这位好心的卡德鲁斯邻居，”唐太斯说，“他不小心说错话了。” 
“那么，就赶快举行婚礼呀，唐太斯先生。”腾格拉尔向那对年青人致意说。 
“我也是想越快越好，腾格拉尔先生。今天先到我父亲那儿把一切准备好，明天就在这儿的瑞瑟夫酒家举行婚礼。我希望我的好朋友都能来，也就是说，请您也来，腾格拉尔先生，还有你，卡德鲁斯。” 
“弗尔南多呢，”卡德鲁斯说完便格格地笑了几声，“也请他去吗？” 
“我妻子的兄长也是我的兄长，”爱德蒙说，“假如这种场合他不在，美塞苔丝和我就会感到很遗憾。” 
弗尔南多张开嘴想说话，但话到嘴边又止住了。 
“今天准备，明天举行婚礼！你也太急了点吧，船长！” 
“腾格拉尔，”爱德蒙微笑着说，“我也要像美塞苔丝刚才对卡德鲁斯所说的那样对你说一遍，请不要把还不属于我的头衔戴到我的头上，那样或许会使我倒霉的。” 
“对不起，”腾格拉尔回答，“我只不过是说你太匆忙了点。我们的时间还很多——法老号在三个月内是不会再出海的。” 
“人总是急于得到幸福的，腾格拉尔先生，因为我们受苦的时间太长了，实在不敢相信天下会有好运这种东西。我之所以这么着急，倒也并非完全为了我自己，我还得去巴黎去一趟。” 
“去巴黎？真的！你是第一次去那儿吧？” 
“是的。” 
“你去那儿有事吗”？ 
“不是我的私事，是可怜的莱克勒船长最后一次差遣。你知道我指的是什么，腾格拉尔，这是我应尽的义务，而且，我去只要不长的时间就够了。” 
“是，是，我知道，”腾格拉尔说，然后他又低声对自己说，“到巴黎去，一定是去送大元帅给他的信。嗯！这封信倒使我有了一个主意！一个好主意唉，唐太斯，我的朋友，你还没有正式任命为法老号上的第一号人物呢。”于是他又转向那正要离去的爱德蒙大声喊到。“一路顺风！” 
“谢谢。”爱德蒙友好地点一下头说。于是这对情人便又平静而又欢喜地继续走他们的路去了。 
Chapter 4 Conspiracy
 DANGLARS followed Edmond and Mercédès with his eyes until the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort Saint Nicolas, then turning round, he perceived Fernand, who had fallen, pale and trembling, into his chair, while Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinking-song. "Well, my dear sir," said Danglars to Fernand, "here is a marriage which does not appear to make everybody happy." 
"It drives me to despair," said Fernand. 
"Do you, then, love Mercédès?" 
"I adore her!" 
"For long?" 
"As long as I have known her--always." 
"And you sit there, tearing your hair, instead of seeking to remedy your condition; I did not think that was the way of your people." 
"What would you have me do?" said Fernand. 
"How do I know? Is it my affair? I am not in love with Mademoiselle Mercédès; but for you--in the words of the gospel, seek, and you shall find." 
"I have found already." 
"What?" 
"I would stab the man, but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed, she would kill herself." 
"Pooh! Women say those things, but never do them." 
"You do not know Mercédès; what she threatens she will do." 
"Idiot!" muttered Danglars; "whether she kill herself or not, what matter, provided Dantès is not captain?" 
"Before Mercédès should die," replied Fernand, with the accents of unshaken resolution, "I would die myself!" 
"That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. "That's love, or I don't know what love is." 
"Come," said Danglars, "you appear to me a good sort of fellow, and hang me, I should like to help you, but"-- 
"Yes," said Caderousse, "but how?" 
"My dear fellow," replied Danglars, "you are three parts drunk; finish the bottle, and you will be completely so. Drink then, and do not meddle with what we are discussing, for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment." 
"I--drunk!" said Caderousse; "well that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles; they are no bigger than cologne flasks. Père Pamphile, more wine!" and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table. 
"You were saving, sir"--said Fernand, awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark. 
"What was I saying? I forget. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence." 
"Drunk, if you like; so much the worse for those who fear wine, for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts;" and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time,-- 
'Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau; 
C'est bien prouve par le deluge.' [1] 
"You said, sir, you would like to help me, but"-- 
"Yes; but I added, to help you it would be sufficient that Dantès did not marry her you love; and the marriage may easily be thwarted, methinks, and yet Dantès need not die." 
"Death alone can separate them," remarked Fernand. 
"You talk like a noodle, my friend," said Caderousse; "and here is Danglars, who is a wide-awake, clever, deep fellow, who will prove to you that you are wrong. Prove it, Danglars. I have answered for you. Say there is no need why Dantès should die; it would, indeed, be a pity he should. Dantès is a good fellow; I like Dantès. Dantès, your health." 
Fernand rose impatiently. "Let him run on," said Danglars, restraining the young man; "drunk as he is, he is not much out in what he says. Absence severs as well as death, and if the walls of a prison were between Edmond and Mercédès they would be as effectually separated as if he lay under a tombstone." 
"Yes; but one gets out of prison," said Caderousse, who, with what sense was left him, listened eagerly to the conversation, "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantès, one seeks revenge"-- 
"What matters that?" muttered Fernand. 
"And why, I should like to know," persisted Caderousse, "should they put Dantès in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered." 
"Hold your tongue!" said Danglars. 
"I won't hold my tongue!" replied Caderousse; "I say I want to know why they should put Dantès in prison; I like Dantès; Dantès, your health!" and he swallowed another glass of wine. 
Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication, and turning towards Fernand, said, "Well, you understand there is no need to kill him." 
"Certainly not, if, as you said just now, you have the means of having Dantès arrested. Have you that means?" 
"It is to be found for the searching. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine."; 
"I know not why you meddle," said Fernand, seizing his arm; "but this I know, you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantès, for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others." 
"I!--motives of hatred against Dantès? None, on my word! I saw you were unhappy, and your unhappiness interested me; that's all; but since you believe I act for my own account, adieu, my dear friend, get out of the affair as best you may;" and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. 
"No, no," said Fernand, restraining him, "stay! It is of very little consequence to me at the end of the matter whether you have any angry feeling or not against Dantès. I hate him! I confess it openly. Do you find the means, I will execute it, provided it is not to kill the man, for Mercédès has declared she will kill herself if Dantès is killed." 
Caderousse, who had let his head drop on the table, now raised it, and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes, he said,--"Kill Dantès! who talks of killing Dantès? I won't have him killed--I won't! He's my friend, and this morning offered to share his money with me, as I shared mine with him. I won't have Dantès killed--I won't!" 
"And who has said a word about killing him, muddlehead?" replied Danglars. "We were merely joking; drink to his health," he added, filling Caderousse's glass, "and do not interfere with us." 
"Yes, yes, Dantès' good health!" said Caderousse, emptying his glass, "here's to his health! his health--hurrah!" 
"But the means--the means?" said Fernand. 
"Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars. 
"No!--you undertook to do so." 
"True," replied Danglars; "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards, that the Spaniards ruminate, while the French invent." 
"Do you invent, then," said Fernand impatiently. 
"Waiter," said Danglars, "pen, ink, and paper." 
"Pen, ink, and paper," muttered Fernand. 
"Yes; I am a supercargo; pen, ink, and paper are my tools, and without my tools I am fit for nothing." 
"Pen, ink, and paper, then," called Fernand loudly. "There's what you want on that table," said the waiter. 
"Bring them here." The waiter did as he was desired. 
"When one thinks," said Caderousse, letting his hand drop on the paper, "there is here wherewithal to kill a man more sure than if we waited at the corner of a wood to assassinate him! I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper, than of a sword or pistol." 
"The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be," said Danglars. "Give him some more wine, Fernand." Fernand filled Caderousse's glass, who, like the confirmed toper he was, lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. 
The Catalan watched him until Caderousse, almost overcome by this fresh assault on his senses, rested, or rather dropped, his glass upon the table. 
"Well!" resumed the Catalan, as he saw the final glimmer of Caderousse's reason vanishing before the last glass of wine. 
"Well, then, I should say, for instance," resumed Danglars, "that if after a voyage such as Dantès has just made, in which he touched at the Island of Elba, some one were to denounce him to the king's procureur as a Bonapartist agent" -- 
"I will denounce him!" exclaimed the young man hastily. 
"Yes, but they will make you then sign your declaration, and confront you with him you have denounced; I will supply you with the means of supporting your accusation, for I know the fact well. But Dantès cannot remain forever in prison, and one day or other he will leave it, and the day when he comes out, woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration!" 
"Oh, I should wish nothing better than that he would come and seek a quarrel with me." 
"Yes, and Mercédès! Mercédès, who will detest you if you have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly beloved Edmond!" 
"True!" said Fernand. 
"No, no," continued Danglars; "if we resolve on such a step, it would be much better to take, as I now do, this pen, dip it into this ink, and write with the left hand (that the writing may not be recognized) the denunciation we propose." And Danglars, uniting practice with theory, wrote with his left hand, and in a writing reversed from his usual style, and totally unlike it, the following lines, which he handed to Fernand, and which Fernand read in an undertone:-- 
"The honorable, the king's attorney, is informed by a friend of the throne and religion, that one Edmond Dantès, mate of the ship Pharaon, arrived this morning from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper, and by the usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him, for the letter will be found upon him, or at his father's, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon." 
"Very good," resumed Danglars; "now your revenge looks like common-sense, for in no way can it revert to yourself, and the matter will thus work its own way; there is nothing to do now but fold the letter as I am doing, and write upon it, 'To the king's attorney,' and that's all settled." And Danglars wrote the address as he spoke. 
"Yes, and that's all settled!" exclaimed Caderousse, who, by a last effort of intellect, had followed the reading of the letter, and instinctively comprehended all the misery which such a denunciation must entail. "Yes, and that's all settled; only it will be an infamous shame;" and he stretched out his hand to reach the letter. 
"Yes," said Danglars, taking it from beyond his reach; "and as what I say and do is merely in jest, and I, amongst the first and foremost, should be sorry if anything happened to Dantès--the worthy Dantès--look here!" And taking the letter, he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a corner of the arbor. 
"All right!" said Caderousse. "Dantès is my friend, and I won't have him ill-used." 
"And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor Fernand," said Danglars, rising and looking at the young man, who still remained seated, but whose eye was fixed on the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner. 
"In this case," replied Caderousse, "let's have some more wine. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely Mercédès." 
"You have had too much already, drunkard," said Danglars; "and if you continue, you will be compelled to sleep here, because unable to stand on your legs." 
"I?" said Caderousse, rising with all the offended dignity of a drunken man, "I can't keep on my legs? Why, I'll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules, and without staggering, too!" 
"Done!" said Danglars, "I'll take your bet; but to-morrow--to-day it is time to return. Give me your arm, and let us go." 
"Very well, let us go," said Caderousse; "but I don't want your arm at all. Come, Fernand, won't you return to Marseilles with us?" 
"No," said Fernand; "I shall return to the Catalans." 
"You're wrong. Come with us to Marseilles--come along." 
"I will not." 
"What do you mean? you will not? Well, just as you like, my prince; there's liberty for all the world. Come along, Danglars, and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses." 
Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the moment, to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor, staggering as he went. 
When they had advanced about twenty yards, Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop, pick up the crumpled paper, and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon. 
"Well," said Caderousse, "why, what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans, and he is going to the city. Hallo, Fernand!" 
"Oh, you don't see straight," said Danglars; "he's gone right enough." 
"Well," said Caderousse, "I should have said not--how treacherous wine is!" 
"Come, come," said Danglars to himself, "now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted."  
腾格拉尔的眼睛一直随着爱德蒙和美塞苔丝，直到他们消失在圣·尼古拉堡的一个拐角处才回过头来仔细地观察弗尔南多，弗尔南多已经倒在椅子里，脸色苍白，浑身发抖，卡德鲁斯正在一边含糊地唱歌一边喝酒。 
“我亲爱的先生，”腾格拉尔对弗尔南多说，“这桩婚事，并不能使人人快活。” 
“它使人失望。”弗尔南多说。 
“那么，你也爱美塞苔丝吗？” 
“我崇拜她！” 
“你爱上她很久了吗？” 
“从第一次见她，我就爱上她了。” 
“既然这样，那么你为什么不去想个补救的办法。见鬼，我想不到你们迦太人会这样窝囊。” 
“你叫我怎么办”弗尔南多说。 
“我怎么知道？这是我的事吗？又不是我爱上了美塞苔丝小姐——是你。‘找吧，’福音书上说，‘你总会找到的。’” 
“我已经找到了。” 
“什么？” 
“我要杀了那个男的，那个女人曾经对我说，如果她的未婚夫遭到什么不幸，她就会自杀的。” 
“得了吧，人都会这么说的，但决不会真的去做的。” 
“你不了解美塞苔丝，她是说得出来，就做得到的。” 
“傻瓜！”腾格拉尔自言自语地说，“只要唐太斯当不上船长就行，她自杀不自杀跟我有什么关系？” 
“如果美塞苔丝死了，”弗尔南多语气坚决地说，“那我也情愿死。” 
“这就是我所说的爱情！”卡德鲁斯说，他的口齿比刚才更加含糊不清了，“这是爱情！，否则我就不知道爱情究竟是什么了。” 
“喂，”腾格拉尔说，“我看你倒是个老实人，活该我倒霉，我倒愿意帮你的忙，可是——” 
“喂，”卡德鲁斯说，“可是什么？” 
“亲爱的人，”腾格拉尔回答说，“你现在已经醉得差不多了，喝光这一瓶，你就会烂醉了，去喝吧，别来打扰我们的事情，因为这事得动一下脑筋才能冷静地下判断。” 
“我喝酒！”卡德鲁斯说，“好，那倒不错！这种酒瓶还没有香水瓶子大，我能喝上四瓶，邦费勒老爹，再拿点酒来！”卡德鲁斯用他的酒杯敲着桌子嚷道。 
“先生，你刚才说——？”弗尔南多等这一段插话一说完就着急的问道。 
“我刚才说什么来着？我怎么想不起来。卡德鲁斯这个酒鬼把我的思路给打断了。” 
“爱喝就喝，那些怕酒的人就不敢喝，因为他们心里怀着鬼胎，怕给酒勾出来。”卡德鲁斯此时又哼起了当时一首极流行的歌曲的最后两句来： 
坏蛋个个都喝水， 
洪水可以做证人 
“先生，你刚才说你很愿意帮我的忙，就是——” 
“对了，就是我附带说一句，我帮你的忙，只要唐太斯娶不到你所爱的那个人就算了，我看，那件事是不难办到的，只是不必非把唐太斯置于死地。” 
“只有死才能拆开他们。”弗尔南多说。“看你讲话的这个样子，真象一个呆子，朋友，”卡德鲁斯说，“这位是腾格拉尔，他是一个诡计多端的智多星，他马上就能证明你错了，证明给他看，腾格拉尔。我来代你回答吧。唐太斯不一定非死不可，假如他死了，也实在太可惜了，唐太斯是个好人。我喜欢唐太斯。唐太斯，祝你健康！” 
弗尔南多不耐烦地站起来。“让他去说吧。”腾格拉尔按住那青年说，“他虽喝醉了，但讲的话倒也不失道理。分离和死亡会产生同样的结果，假如爱德蒙和美塞苔丝之间隔着一道监狱的墙，那么他们不得不分手，其结果与让他躺的坟墓里一样的。” 
“不错，但关在牢里的人是会出来的，”卡德鲁斯说，他凭着尚存的一些理智仍在努力倾听着谈话，“而他一旦出来，象爱德蒙·唐太斯这样的人，他报起仇来——” 
“那有什么可怕？”弗尔南多轻声地说。 
“噢，我倒知道，”卡德鲁斯说，“凭什么把唐太斯关到牢里去？他又没有抢劫，杀人，害人。” 
“闭嘴。”腾格拉尔说。 
“我就不闭嘴！”卡德鲁斯继续说，“凭什么关系把唐太斯关到牢里去。我喜欢唐太斯。唐太斯我祝你健康！”他又喝了一杯酒。 
腾格拉尔看到那裁缝的神色已经恍恍惚惚了，知道酒性已经发作了，便转过去，对弗尔南多说：“喂，你知道没人非要让他死不可。” 
“那当然了，假如象你刚才所说的那样，你有办法可以使唐太斯被捕，那当然就没有这个必要了。你有办法吗？” 
“只要去找，总是有办法的？” 
“我不知道这事究竟是否与你有关，”弗尔南多抓住他的手臂说，“但我知道，你对唐太斯也一定怀有某种私怨，因为心怀怨恨的人是决不会看错别人的情绪的。” 
“我？我怀有恨唐太斯的动机？不！我发誓！我是看到你很不快活，而我又很关心你，仅此而已，既然你认为我怀有什么私心，那就再见吧，我亲爱的朋友，你自己想办法解决这事吧。”腾格拉尔站起来装作要走的样子。 
“不，不，”弗尔南多拉住他的手说，“请别走！你究竟恨不恨唐太斯与我没有关系。我是恨他！我可以公开宣布恨他。只要你能有办法，我就来干，——只要不杀了他就行，因为美塞苔斯曾说过，假如唐太斯死了，她也要去自杀。” 
卡德鲁斯本来已把头伏在桌子上，现在忽然抬起头来，用他那迟钝无光的眼睛望着弗尔南多说：“杀唐太斯！谁说要杀唐太斯？我不愿意他死——我不愿意！他是我的朋友，今天早上还说要借钱给我，象我借给他一样。我不许人杀唐太斯——我不许！” 
“谁说过要杀他了，你这傻瓜！”腾格拉尔答道。“我们只是开开玩笑而已，喝杯酒，祝他身体健康吧，”他给卡德鲁斯倒满了酒，又说，“别来打扰我们。” 
“对，对，为唐太斯身体健康干杯！”卡德鲁斯把酒一饮而尽说，“这杯祝他身体健康祝他健康！嗨！” 
“可是办法，——办法呢？”弗尔南多说。 
“你还一点也想不起来吗？” 
“没有，办法得由你想。” 
“真的，”腾格拉尔说道，“法国人比西班牙人强，西班牙人还在苦苦思考之时，法国人则一拍脑袋主意就来了。” 
“那么你有主意了吗？”弗尔南多不耐烦地说。 
“伙计，”腾格拉尔说。“把笔墨纸张拿过来。” 
“笔墨纸张？”弗尔南多咕哝的说。 
“是的，我是一个押运员。笔墨和纸张是我的工具，没有工具我是什么事都做不了的。” 
“把笔墨纸张拿来！”弗尔南多大声喊道。 
“都在那张桌子上。”侍者指指文具说。 
“拿到这儿来。” 
侍者听命给他拿了过来。 
卡德鲁斯手按着纸说：“想到用这东西杀人比候在树林旁边暗杀还要牢靠，也太令人寒心了！我一向就害怕笔、墨水和纸，比害怕刀剑或手枪还要厉害。” 
“这家伙看来并不象他外表那样醉的厉害，”腾格拉尔说，“再灌他几杯，弗尔南多。” 
弗尔南多又给卡德鲁斯斟满酒，后者原是一个酒徒，一看见酒，便放开了纸，抓起了酒杯。那迦太兰人一直看着卡德鲁斯，直看到他在这次进攻之下毫无招架之力，把酒杯象掉下来似的放到桌上为止。 
“好了！”那迦太兰人看到卡德鲁斯最后的一点理智也消失在这杯酒里了，才又继续说道。 
“好了，那么，譬如说，”腾格拉尔重又继续说道，“唐太斯现在刚刚航海回来，途中又在厄尔巴岛靠过，这次航海以后，假如有人向检察官告发，说他是一个拿破仑党的眼线的话——” 
“我去告发他！”青年连忙喊道。 
“好的，但这样他们就会叫你在告发书上签名的，还叫你和被告对质，我可以给你提供告发他的资料，因为我对于事实知道得很清楚。但唐太斯不会在牢里给关一辈子的，总有一天他会出来的。他一出来，必定要找那个使他入狱的人报仇的。” 
“嘿，我就盼着他来找我打架呢。” 
“是的，可是美塞苔丝，——美塞苔丝呢，只要你碰破她心爱的爱德蒙一层皮，她就会痛恨你的呀！” 
“一点不错！”弗尔南多说。 
“不行，不能这样做！”腾格拉尔继续说，“但是假如我们决定采取我现在所说的这个办法，那就好得多了，只要这支笔，蘸着这瓶墨水，用左手（那样笔迹就不会被人认出来）写一封告密信就得了。”腾格拉尔一面说着一面写了起来，他用左手写下了几行歪歪斜斜的根本看不出是他自己的笔迹的文字，然后他把那篇文字交给弗尔南多，弗尔南多低声读道：“检察官先生台鉴，敝人拥护王室及教会之人士，兹向您报告有爱德蒙·唐太斯其人，系法老号之大副，今晨自士麦拿经那不勒斯抵埠，中途曾停靠费拉约港。此人受缪拉之命送信与逆贼，并受逆贼命送信与巴黎拿破仑党委员会。犯罪证据在将其逮捕时即可获得，信件不是在其身上，就是在其父家中，或者在法老号上他的船舱里。” 
“好极了，”腾格拉尔说，“这样你的报仇就不会被人知道了，这封信自可生效，而且肯定追究不到你的头上来的。没什么别的事了，只要象我这样把信折叠起来，写上‘呈交皇家检察官阁下’，一切就都解决了。”腾格拉尔一面说着，一面把收信人的姓名地址都写在了上面。 
“不错，一切都解决了！”卡德鲁斯喊道，他凭着最后一点清醒已听到了那封信的内容，知道如果这样一去告密，会出现什么样的后果，“不错，一切都解决了，只是这样做太可耻了，太不名誉了！”他伸手想拿那封信。 
“是的，”腾格拉尔说，一面把信移开了，使他拿不到，“我刚才所说所做的不过是开开玩笑而已，假如唐太斯，这位可敬的唐太斯遭到了什么不幸，我会第一个感到难过的，你看，”他拿起了那封信，把它揉成一团，抛向凉棚的一个角落里。 
“这就对了！”卡德鲁斯说。“唐太斯是我的朋友，我可不能让他被人陷害。” 
“哪个鬼家伙想陷害他？肯定不是我，弗尔南多也不会！” 
腾格拉尔说着便站了起来望了一眼那个青年，青年依旧坐着，但眼睛却盯在了那被抛在角落里的告密信上。 
“既然这样，”卡德鲁斯说道，“我们再来喝点酒吧。我想再喝几杯来祝德爱德蒙和那可爱的美塞苔丝健康。” 
“你已经喝得不少了啦，酒鬼，”腾格拉尔说，“你要是再喝，就得睡在这儿了，因为你连站都站不起来了。” 
“我喝多了。”卡德鲁斯一面说，一面带着一个醉鬼被冒犯时的那副样子站了起来，“我站不起来了？我跟你打赌，我能一口气跑上阿歌兰史教堂的钟楼，连脚步都不会乱！” 
“好吧！”腾格拉尔说，“我跟你打赌，不过等明天吧，——今天该回去了。我们走吧，我来扶你。” 
“很好，我们这就走，”卡德鲁斯说，“但我可用不着你来扶。走，弗尔南多，你不和我们一块儿回马赛吗？” 
“不，”弗尔南多回答，“我回迦太兰村。” 
“你错啦。跟我们一起到马赛去吧，走吧。” 
“我不去。” 
“你这是什么意思？你不去？好，随你的便吧，我的小伙子，在这个世界上人人都是自由的。走吧，腾格拉尔，随那位先生的便罢，他高兴就让他回迦太兰村去好了。” 
腾格拉尔这时是很愿意顺着卡德鲁斯的脾气行事的，他扶着他踉踉跄跄地沿着胜利港向马赛走去。 
他们大约向前走了二十码左右，腾格拉尔回过头来，看见弗尔南多正在弯腰捡起那张揉皱的纸，并塞进他的口袋里，然后冲出凉棚，向皮隆方面奔去。 
“咦，”卡德鲁斯说，“看，他多会撒谎！他说要回迦太兰村去，可却朝城里那个方向走去了。喂，弗尔南多！” 
“唔，是你弄错了，”腾格拉尔说，“他一点没错。” 
“噢，”卡德鲁斯说，“我还以为他走错了呢，酒这东西真会骗人！” 
“哼，”腾格拉尔心里想，“这件事我看开端还不错，现在只待静观它的发展了。” 
Chapter 5 The Marriage-Feast
 THE MORNING'S SUN rose clear and resplendent, touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light. The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Rèserve, with whose arbor the reader is already familiar. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows, over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France; beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o'clock, an hour previous to that time the balcony was filled with impatient and expectant guests, consisting of the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon, and other personal friends of the bride-groom, the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes, in order to do greater honor to the occasion. 
Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast; but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. 
Danglars, however, who now made his appearance, accompanied by Caderousse, effectually confirmed the report, stating that he had recently conversed with M. Morrel, who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Rèserve. 
In fact, a moment later M. Morrel appeared and was saluted with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the Pharaon, who hailed the visit of the shipowner as a sure indication that the man whose wedding feast he thus delighted to honor would ere long be first in command of the ship; and as Dantès was universally beloved on board his vessel, the sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so exactly coincided with their own. 
With the entrance of M. Morrel, Danglars and Caderousse were despatched in search of the bride-groom to convey to him the intelligence of the arrival of the important personage whose coming had created such a lively sensation, and to beseech him to make haste. 
Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full speed; but ere they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing towards them, composed of the betrothed pair, a party of young girls in attendance on the bride, by whose side walked Dantès' father; the whole brought up by Fernand, whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. 
Neither Mercédès nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance; they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. 
Having acquitted themselves of their errand, and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond, Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantès,--the latter of whom attracted universal notice. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk, trimmed with steel buttons, beautifully cut and polished. His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings, evidently of English manufacture, while from his three-cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. Thus he came along, supporting himself on a curiously carved stick, his aged countenance lit up with happiness, looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796, parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. Beside him glided Caderousse, whose desire to partake of the good things provided for the wedding-party had induced him to become reconciled to the Dantès, father and son, although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night; just as the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty outline of a dream. 
As Danglars approached the disappointed lover, he cast on him a look of deep meaning, while Fernand, as he slowly paced behind the happy pair, who seemed, in their own unmixed content, to have entirely forgotten that such a being as himself existed, was pale and abstracted; occasionally, however, a deep flush would overspread his countenance, and a nervous contraction distort his features, while, with an agitated and restless gaze, he would glance in the direction of Marseilles, like one who either anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. 
Dantès himself was simply, but becomingly, clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service--a costume somewhat between a military and a civil garb; and with his fine countenance, radiant with joy and happiness, a more perfect specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. 
Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios, Mercédès boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet, and ripe, round, coral lips. She moved with the light, free step of an Arlesienne or an Andalusian. One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil, or, at least, have cast down her thickly fringed lashes, so as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes; but, on the contrary, the delighted girl looked around her with a smile that seemed to say: "If you are my friends, rejoice with me, for I am very happy." 
As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Rèserve, M. Morrel descended and came forth to meet it, followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled, to whom he had repeated the promise already given, that Dantès should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. Edmond, at the approach of his patron, respectfully placed the arm of his affianced bride within that of M. Morrel, who, forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared, was gayly followed by the guests, beneath whose heavy tread the slight structure creaked and groaned for the space of several minutes. 
"Father," said Mercédès, stopping when she had reached the centre of the table, "sit, I pray you, on my right hand; on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me," pointing with a soft and gentle smile to Fernand; but her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on him, for his lips became ghastly pale, and even beneath the dark hue of his complexion the blood might be seen retreating as though some sudden pang drove it back to the heart. 
During this time, Dantès, at the opposite side of the table, had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests. M. Morrel was seated at his right hand, Danglars at his left; while, at a sign from Edmond, the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. 
Then they began to pass around the dusky, piquant, Arlesian sausages, and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses, prawns of large size and brilliant color, the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within, the clovis, esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster,--all the delicacies, in fact, that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach, and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the sea." 
"A pretty silence truly!" said the old father of the bride-groom, as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz, and which had just been placed before Mercédès herself. "Now, would anybody think that this room contained a happy, merry party, who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" 
"Ah," sighed Caderousse, "a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married." 
"The truth is," replied Dantès, "that I am too happy for noisy mirth; if that is what you meant by your observation, my worthy friend, you are right; joy takes a strange effect at times, it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow." 
Danglars looked towards Fernand, whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression. 
"Why, what ails you?" asked he of Edmond. "Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant." 
"And that is the very thing that alarms me," returned Dantès. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed; happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood, where fierce, fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach; and monsters of all shapes and kinds, requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. I own that I am lost in wonder to find myself promoted to an honor of which I feel myself unworthy--that of being the husband of Mercédès." 
"Nay, nay!" cried Caderousse, smiling, "you have not attained that honor yet. Mercédès is not yet your wife. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband, and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet come!" 
The bride blushed, while Fernand, restless and uneasy, seemed to start at every fresh sound, and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow. 
"Well, never mind that, neighbor Caderousse; it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. 'Tis true that Mercédès is not actually my wife; but," added he, drawing out his watch, "in an hour and a half she will be." 
A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table, with the exception of the elder Dantès, whose laugh displayed the still perfect beauty of his large white teeth. Mercédès looked pleased and gratified, while Fernand grasped the handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. 
"In an hour?" inquired Danglars, turning pale. "How is that, my friend?" 
"Why, thus it is," replied Dantès. "Thanks to the influence of M. Morrel, to whom, next to my father, I owe every blessing I enjoy, every difficulty his been removed. We have purchased permission to waive the usual delay; and at half-past two o'clock the mayor of Marseilles will be waiting for us at the city hall. Now, as a quarter-past one has already struck, I do not consider I have asserted too much in saying, that, in another hour and thirty minutes Mercédès will have become Madame Dantès." 
Fernand closed his eyes, a burning sensation passed across his brow, and he was compelled to support himself by the table to prevent his falling from his chair; but in spite of all his efforts, he could not refrain from uttering a deep groan, which, however, was lost amid the noisy felicitations of the company. 
"Upon my word," cried the old man, "you make short work of this kind of affair. Arrived here only yesterday morning, and married to-day at three o'clock! Commend me to a sailor for going the quick way to work!" 
"But," asked Danglars, in a timid tone, "how did you manage about the other formalities--the contract--the settlement?" 
"The contract," answered Dantès, laughingly, "it didn't take long to fix that. Mercédès has no fortune; I have none to settle on her. So, you see, our papers were quickly written out, and certainly do not come very expensive." This joke elicited a fresh burst of applause. 
"So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast turns out to be the actual wedding dinner!" said Danglars. 
"No, no," answered Dantès; "don't imagine I am going to put you off in that shabby manner. To-morrow morning I start for Paris; four days to go, and the same to return, with one day to discharge the commission intrusted to me, is all the time I shall be absent. I shall be back here by the first of March, and on the second I give my real marriage feast." 
This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of the guests to such a degree, that the elder Dantès, who, at the commencement of the repast, had commented upon the silence that prevailed, now found it difficult, amid the general din of voices, to obtain a moment's tranquillity in which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and bride-groom. 
Dantès, perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father, responded by a look of grateful pleasure; while Mercédès glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to Edmond. 
Around the table reigned that noisy hilarity which usually prevails at such a time among people sufficiently free from the demands of social position not to feel the trammels of etiquette. Such as at the commencement of the repast had not been able to seat themselves according to their inclination rose unceremoniously, and sought out more agreeable companions. Everybody talked at once, without waiting for a reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing his or her own thoughts. 
Fernand's paleness appeared to have communicated itself to Danglars. As for Fernand himself, he seemed to be enduring the tortures of the damned; unable to rest, he was among the first to quit the table, and, as though seeking to avoid the hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds, he continued, in utter silence, to pace the farther end of the salon. 
Caderousse approached him just as Danglars, whom Fernand seemed most anxious to avoid, had joined him in a corner of the room. 
"Upon my word," said Caderousse, from whose mind the friendly treatment of Dantès, united with the effect of the excellent wine he had partaken of, had effaced every feeling of envy or jealousy at Dantès' good fortune,--"upon my word, Dantès is a downright good fellow, and when I see him sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be. I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to have served him that trick you were planning yesterday." 
"Oh, there was no harm meant," answered Danglars; "at first I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand might be tempted to do; but when I saw how completely he had mastered his feelings, even so far as to become one of his rival's attendants, I knew there was no further cause for apprehension." Caderousse looked full at Fernand--he was ghastly pale. 
"Certainly," continued Danglars, "the sacrifice was no trifling one, when the beauty of the bride is concerned. Upon my soul, that future captain of mine is a lucky dog! Gad, I only wish he would let me take his place." 
"Shall we not set forth?" asked the sweet, silvery voice of Mercédès; "two o'clock has just struck, and you know we are expected in a quarter of an hour." 
"To be sure!--to be sure!" cried Dantès, eagerly quitting the table; "let us go directly!" 
His words were re-echoed by the whole party, with vociferous cheers. 
At this moment Danglars, who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand's look and manner, saw him stagger and fall back, with an almost convulsive spasm, against a seat placed near one of the open windows. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the stairs, followed by the measured tread of soldiery, with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements; then came a hum and buzz as of many voices, so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal party, among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk, and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. 
The sounds drew nearer. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. The company looked at each other in consternation. 
"I demand admittance," said a loud voice outside the room, "in the name of the law!" As no attempt was made to prevent it, the door was opened, and a magistrate, wearing his official scarf, presented himself, followed by four soldiers and a corporal. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present. 
"May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?" said M. Morrel, addressing the magistrate, whom he evidently knew; "there is doubtless some mistake easily explained." 
"If it be so," replied the magistrate, "rely upon every reparation being made; meanwhile, I am the bearer of an order of arrest, and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me, it must, nevertheless, be fulfilled. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantès?" Every eye was turned towards the young man who, spite of the agitation he could not but feel, advanced with dignity, and said, in a firm voice, "I am he; what is your pleasure with me?" 
"Edmond Dantès," replied the magistrate, "I arrest you in the name of the law!" 
"Me!" repeated Edmond, slightly changing color, "and wherefore, I pray?" 
"I cannot inform you, but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination." 
M. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law, and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf, as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy. Old Dantès, however, sprang forward. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand. He prayed and supplicated in terms so moving, that even the officer was touched, and, although firm in his duty, he kindly said, "My worthy friend, let me beg of you to calm your apprehensions. Your son has probably neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering his cargo, and it is more than probable he will be set at liberty directly he has given the information required, whether touching the health of his crew, or the value of his freight." 
"What is the meaning of all this?" inquired Caderousse, frowningly, of Danglars, who had assumed an air of utter surprise. 
"How can I tell you?" replied he; "I am, like yourself, utterly bewildered at all that is going on, and cannot in the least make out what it is about." Caderousse then looked around for Fernand, but he had disappeared. 
The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind with startling clearness. The painful catastrophe he had just witnessed appeared effectually to have rent away the veil which the intoxication of the evening before had raised between himself and his memory. 
"So, so," said he, in a hoarse and choking voice, to Danglars, "this, then, I suppose, is a part of the trick you were concerting yesterday? All I can say is, that if it be so, 'tis an ill turn, and well deserves to bring double evil on those who have projected it." 
"Nonsense," returned Danglars, "I tell you again I have nothing whatever to do with it; besides, you know very well that I tore the paper to pieces." 
"No, you did not!" answered Caderousse, "you merely threw it by--I saw it lying in a corner." 
"Hold your tongue, you fool!--what should you know about it?--why, you were drunk!" 
"Where is Fernand?" inquired Caderousse. 
"How do I know?" replied Danglars; "gone, as every prudent man ought to be, to look after his own affairs, most likely. Never mind where he is, let you and I go and see what is to be done for our poor friends." 
During this conversation, Dantès, after having exchanged a cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing friends, had surrendered himself to the officer sent to arrest him, merely saying, "Make yourselves quite easy, my good fellows, there is some little mistake to clear up, that's all, depend upon it; and very likely I may not have to go so far as the prison to effect that." 
"Oh, to be sure!" responded Danglars, who had now approached the group, "nothing more than a mistake, I feel quite certain." 
Dantès descended the staircase, preceded by the magistrate, and followed by the soldiers. A carriage awaited him at the door; he got in, followed by two soldiers and the magistrate, and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. 
"Adieu, adieu, dearest Edmond!" cried Mercédès, stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. 
The prisoner heard the cry, which sounded like the sob of a broken heart, and leaning from the coach he called out, "Good-by, Mercédès--we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. 
"Wait for me here, all of you!" cried M. Morrel; "I will take the first conveyance I find, and hurry to Marseilles, whence I will bring you word how all is going on." 
"That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices, "go, and return as quickly as you can!" 
This second departure was followed by a long and fearful state of terrified silence on the part of those who were left behind. The old father and Mercédès remained for some time apart, each absorbed in grief; but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes, and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. 
Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance, poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand; then hastily swallowing it, went to sit down at the first vacant place, and this was, by mere chance, placed next to the seat on which poor Mercédès had fallen half fainting, when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantès. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. 
"He is the cause of all this misery--I am quite sure of it," whispered Caderousse, who had never taken his eyes off Fernand, to Danglars. 
"I don't think so," answered the other; he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it." 
"You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed," said Caderousse. 
"Surely," answered Danglars, "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air." 
"You can, indeed, when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's head." 
Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form. 
"What think you, Danglars," said one of the party, turning towards him, "of this event?" 
"Why," replied he, "I think it just possible Dantès may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband." 
"But how could he have done so without your knowledge, Danglars, since you are the ship's supercargo?" 
"Why, as for that, I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. I know she was loaded with cotton, and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse, and at Smyrna from Pascal's; that is all I was obliged to know, and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars." 
"Now I recollect," said the afflicted old father; "my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee, and another of tobacco for me!" 
"There, you see," exclaimed Danglars. "Now the mischief is out; depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence, and discovered poor Dantès' hidden treasures." 
Mercédès, however, paid no heed to this explanation of her lover's arrest. Her grief, which she had hitherto tried to restrain, now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing. 
"Come, come," said the old man, "be comforted, my poor child; there is still hope!" 
"Hope!" repeated Danglars. 
"Hope!" faintly murmured Fernand, but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips, and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. 
"Good news! good news!" shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout. "Here comes M. Morrel back. No doubt, now, we shall hear that our friend is released!" 
Mercédès and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door. He was very pale. 
"What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. 
"Alas, my friends," replied M. Morrel, with a mournful shake of his head, "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected." 
"Oh, indeed--indeed, sir, he is innocent!" sobbed forth Mercédès. 
"That I believe!" answered M. Morrel; "but still he is charged"-- 
"With what?" inquired the elder Dantès. 
"With being an agent of the Bonapartist faction!" Many of our readers may be able to recollect how formidable such an accusation became in the period at which our story is dated. 
A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercédès; the old man sank into a chair. 
"Ah, Danglars!" whispered Caderousse, "you have deceived me--the trick you spoke of last night has been played; but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. I am determined to tell them all about it." 
"Be silent, you simpleton!" cried Danglars, grasping him by the arm, "or I will not answer even for your own safety. Who can tell whether Dantès be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba, where he quitted it, and passed a whole day in the island. Now, should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him, will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?" 
With the rapid instinct of selfishness, Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning; he gazed, doubtfully, wistfully, on Danglars, and then caution supplanted generosity. 
"Suppose we wait a while, and see what comes of it," said he, casting a bewildered look on his companion. 
"To be sure!" answered Danglars. "Let us wait, by all means. If he be innocent, of course he will be set at liberty; if guilty, why, it is no use involving ourselves in a conspiracy." 
"Let us go, then. I cannot stay here any longer." "With all my heart!" replied Danglars, pleased to find the other so tractable. "Let us take ourselves out of the way, and leave things for the present to take their course." 
After their departure, Fernand, who had now again become the friend and protector of Mercédès, led the girl to her home, while the friends of Dantès conducted the now half-fainting man back to his abode. 
The rumor of Edmond arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city. 
"Could you ever have credited such a thing, my dear Danglars?" asked M. Morrel, as, on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantès, from M. de Villefort, the assistant procureur, he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse. "Could you have believed such a thing possible?" 
"Why, you know I told you," replied Danglars, "that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance." 
"And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside myself?" 
"Certainly not!" returned Danglars. Then added in a low whisper, "You understand that, on account of your uncle, M. Policar Morrel, who served under the other government, and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject, you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself, had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul. I am too well aware that though a subordinate, like myself, is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs, there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else." 
"'Tis well, Danglars--'tis well!" replied M. Morrel. "You are a worthy fellow; and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon." 
"Is it possible you were so kind?" 
"Yes, indeed; I had previously inquired of Dantès what was his opinion of you, and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post, for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you." 
"And what was his reply?" 
"That he certainly did think he had given you offence in an affair which he merely referred to without entering into particulars, but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship's owner would have his preference also." 
"The hypocrite!" murmured Danglars. 
"Poor Dantès!" said Caderousse. "No one can deny his being a noble-hearted young fellow." 
"But meanwhile," continued M. Morrel, "here is the Pharaon without a captain." 
"Oh," replied Danglars, "since we cannot leave this port for the next three months, let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantès will be set at liberty." 
"No doubt; but in the meantime?" 
"I am entirely at your service, M. Morrel," answered Danglars. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service; and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services, that upon Edmond's release from prison no further change will be requisite on board the Pharaon than for Dantès and myself each to resume our respective posts." 
"Thanks, Danglars--that will smooth over all difficulties. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon, and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business." 
"Be easy on that score, M. Morrel; but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" 
"I will let you know that directly I have seen M. de Villefort, whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's favor. I am aware he is a furious royalist; but, in spite of that, and of his being king's attorney, he is a man like ourselves, and I fancy not a bad sort of one." 
"Perhaps not," replied Danglars; "but I hear that he is ambitions, and that's rather against him." 
"Well, well," returned M. Morrel, "we shall see. But now hasten on board, I will join you there ere long." So saying, the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies, and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice. 
"You see," said Danglars, addressing Caderousse, "the turn things have taken. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?" 
"Not the slightest, but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences." 
"But who perpetrated that joke, let me ask? neither you nor myself, but Fernand; you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room--indeed, I fancied I had destroyed it." 
"Oh, no," replied Caderousse, "that I can answer for, you did not. I only wish I could see it now as plainly as I saw it lying all crushed and crumpled in a corner of the arbor." 
"Well, then, if you did, depend upon it, Fernand picked it up, and either copied it or caused it to be copied; perhaps, even, he did not take the trouble of recopying it. And now I think of it, by Heavens, he may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately, for me, the handwriting was disguised." 
"Then you were aware of Dantès being engaged in a conspiracy?" 
"Not I. As I before said, I thought the whole thing was a joke, nothing more. It seems, however, that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth." 
"Still," argued Caderousse, "I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened; or, at least, that I had had no hand in it. You will see, Danglars, that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us." 
"Nonsense! If any harm come of it, it should fall on the guilty person; and that, you know, is Fernand. How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is, to keep our own counsel, and remain perfectly quiet, not breathing a word to any living soul; and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us." 
"Amen!" responded Caderousse, waving his hand in token of adieu to Danglars, and bending his steps towards the Allées de Meillan, moving his head to and fro, and muttering as he went, after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea. 
"So far, then," said Danglars, mentally, "all has gone as I would have it. I am, temporarily, commander of the Pharaon, with the certainty of being permanently so, if that fool of a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. My only fear is the chance of Dantès being released. But, there, he is in the hands of Justice; and," added he with a smile, "she will take her own." So saying, he leaped into a boat, desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon, where M. Morrel had agreed to meet him.    
清晨，明媚的朝阳染红了天空，抚慰着那吐着白沫的浪潮。 
瑞瑟夫酒家此时已备好了丰富的酒筵，（酒家的那座凉棚是读者们已熟悉了的）。摆席的那个大厅非常宽敞，并排开着几扇大窗子，每个窗子上都有用金字写着的法国各大城市的名字。在这排窗子底下，是一条跟屋子一样长的木板走廊。筵席虽预定在十二点钟开始。但在这之前的一小时，走廊上便早已挤满了性急的前来贺喜的客人，他们有些是法老号上同唐太斯要好的船员，有些是他的私人朋友，全都穿着最漂亮的衣服，给这个愉快的日子增光不少，大家都在纷纷议论，法老号的船主要来参加婚宴，但大家又似乎都不相信唐太斯能有这么大的面子。 
还是与卡德鲁斯同来的腾格拉尔证实了这个消息，说他刚才遇到了莫雷尔先生，莫雷尔先生亲口说要来赴宴。 
果然，不一会儿，莫雷尔先生便走了进来。法老号的水手们纷纷向他致意、欢呼。在他们看来船主的光临证实了一个传闻，唐太斯不久就要做法老号船长了，由于唐太斯是船员们都一致爱戴的人物，所以当船员们发现他们上司的意见和选择正好符合了他们的愿望时，也就禁不住欢喜起来。 
这一阵嘈杂而亲热的欢迎过去以后，腾格拉尔和卡德鲁斯便被派去到新郎家中去报告重要人物已经到了的消息，希望新郎赶快来迎接他的贵宾。 
二人便火速前往，但他们还没走出百步远，就有一群人向他们走来，前面走着的那对新人和一群伴随新娘的青年人，新娘的旁边是唐太斯的父亲，他们的后面则跟着弗尔南多。他的脸上仍旧挂着一种阴险的微笑。 
美塞苔丝和爱德蒙都没有注意到他脸上那种异样的表情。他们实在是太幸福了，所以他们的眼睛除了互相深情地注视着以外，就只看到他们头上那明朗而美丽的天空。 
腾格拉尔他们完成了自己的使命，并向爱德蒙亲热地道贺以后，腾格拉尔就走到了弗尔南多的身边，卡德鲁斯则和唐太斯老爹留在了一起。老唐太斯现在已成了众人注目的焦点。 
他穿着一套剪裁合体、熨得笔挺、钉着铁钮扣的黑衣服。他那瘦小但依旧相当有力的小腿上套着一双脚踝处绣满了花的长统袜子，一看便知是英国货；他的三角帽上垂下一长条蓝白色丝带结成的穗子；拄着一根雕刻得很奇特的手杖。卡德鲁斯一副卑谄的样子跟在他身旁，希望美餐一顿的渴望使他又与唐太斯父子重归于好了，昨晚上的事，他脑子里留有模糊不清的印象，——就象人从梦中醒来时脑子里留下的模糊印象一样。 
腾格拉尔走近那个失恋的情人的时候，意味深长的看了他一眼。只见弗尔南多脸色苍白，神情茫然地慢慢跟在那对幸福的人后面，而面前那对满心欢喜的人却似乎已完全忘记了还有他这个人存在着。他的脸偶尔会突然涨得通红，神经质的抽搐一下，——焦急不安的朝马赛那个方向望一眼，好象在期待某种惊人的大事发生似的。 
唐太斯的衣着不仅很合式，而且也很简单，他穿着一套半似军服，半似便服的商船船员制服。他那张英俊的脸上闪着喜悦和幸福的光芒，显得更加英气勃发。 
美塞苔丝可爱得象塞浦路斯或凯奥斯的希腊美女一样，她的眼睛乌黑明亮，嘴唇鲜红娇嫩，她的步伐就象阿尔妇女和安达卢西亚妇女那样轻盈和婀娜多姿。假如她是一个城里姑娘，她一定会把她的喜悦掩饰起来，或至少垂下她那浓密的睫毛，以掩饰她那一对水汪汪的热情的眼睛，但美塞苔丝却是一个劲地微笑着左右顾盼，好象在说：“假如你们是我的朋友，那么就和我一起欢乐吧，因为我实在是太幸福了。” 
当这队伴着新郎新娘的行列进入瑟夫酒家的时候，莫雷尔先生就迎上前来，他身后跟着早已聚集在那儿的士兵和水手，他们已经从莫雷尔先生那儿知道他已经许过的诺言，知道唐太斯就要接替已故的莱克勒船长了，爱德蒙一走到雇主的前面，便把他的未婚妻的手臂递给莫雷尔先生，后者就带着她踏上了木头楼梯，向摆好了酒席的大厅走去，宾客们嘻嘻哈哈地跟在后面，楼梯在拥挤的人群脚下吱吱地响着。 
“爸爸，”美塞苔丝走到桌子前面停下来说。“请您坐到我的右边，左边这个置人要让一位始终象亲兄弟那样照顾我的人坐，”她这句温柔而甜密的话象一把匕首直刺入弗尔南多的心。他的嘴唇苍白，棕黑的皮肤下，可以看见血液突然退去，象是受到了某种意外的压缩，流回到了心脏里去了一样。 
这时，坐在桌子对面的唐太斯，也同样正在安排他最尊贵的来宾莫雷尔先生坐在他在右边，腾格拉尔坐在他的左边，其余的人也都各自找到了他们认为最适当的位子坐下。 
现在便开始尽情地享受那些放满在桌子上的美味佳肴了。新鲜香美的阿尔腊肠，鲜红耀目的带壳龙虾，色彩鲜明的大虾，外面有刺而里面细腻上口的海胆，还有为南方食客所极力赞美、认为比牡蛎还香美可口的蛤蜊——这一切，再加上无数从沙滩上捕来的，被那些该感谢的渔夫称为“海果”的各种珍馔美肴，都呈在了这次婚筵席上。 
“真安静啊！”新郎的父亲说，他正拿起一杯黄玉色的酒举到嘴边，这杯酒是美塞苔丝献上的，谁会想到这儿有三十个又说又笑的人呢？ 
“唉！”卡德鲁斯叹息到，“做丈夫的并非永远是开心的，”事实是，”唐太斯答，“我是太幸福了，所以反而乐不起来了，假如你是这样认为的话，我可敬的朋友，我想你是说对了，有的时候，快乐会产生一种奇特的效果，它会压住我们，就象悲哀一样。” 
腾格拉尔向弗尔南多看了看，只见他易于激动的天性把每一个新的感受都明显地表露在脸上。 
“咦，你有什么不快乐？”他问爱德蒙。“你难道怕有什么样的灾难降临吗？我敢说今天在众人眼里你最称心如意啦。” 
“使我感到不安的也正是这一点，”唐太斯答道“在我看来幸福似乎不该这样轻易到手的，幸福应该是我们小时候书上所读到的神奇的魔宫，有凶猛的毒龙守在入口，有各种各样大大小小的的妖魔鬼怪挡主去路，要征服这一切，就非去战斗不可。我现在真得觉得有点奇怪，凭什么获得这份荣耀——做美塞苔丝的丈夫。” 
“丈夫，丈夫？”卡德鲁斯大声笑着说，“还没有做成呢，我的船长，你就试试去做个丈夫吧，瞧瞧会怎么样。” 
美塞苔丝不禁脸上泛起了红晕。焦躁不安的弗尔南多每当听到一点响声就会显得很吃惊的样子，他不时抹一下额头上沁出汗，那汗珠就象暴风雨即将来时落下的雨蹼那样粗大。 
“哦，那倒没什么，卡德鲁斯邻居，这种小事是不值得一提的，不错，美塞苔丝此刻还不能真正算我的妻子，但是，”他掏出表来看了看，就说，“再过一个半小时，她就是我的妻子了。” 
所有的人都惊叫了一声，只有老唐太斯除外，他开怀大笑，露出一排很整齐的牙齿。美塞苔丝微笑了一下，不再羞涩了。弗尔南多则神经质地紧握着他的刀柄。 
“一个小时？”腾格拉尔问，他的脸色也变白了，“怎么回事，我的朋友？ 
“是的，，”唐太斯回答道，“在这儿我特别感谢莫雷尔先生在这世界上，除了我父亲以外，我的幸福完全归功于他，由于他的帮忙，一切困难都已经解决了。我们已经付了结婚预告费，两点半的时候，马赛市长就会在维丽大酒家等候我们。现在已经是一点一刻了，所以我说再过一个半小时美塞苔丝会变成唐太斯夫人并非言之过早。” 
弗尔南多闭上了双眼，一种火一样的感觉掠过了他的眉头，他不得不将身子伏在桌子上以免跌倒。他虽然努力克制着自己，但仍禁不住发出一声长叹，但是他的叹息声被嘈杂的祝贺声淹没了。 
“凭良心，”老人大声说，“这事你办得真迅速。昨天早晨才到这儿的，今天三点钟就结婚！我终于相信了水手是办事的快手！” 
“可是”腾格拉尔胆怯地说。“其它手续怎么办呢，——婚书，文契？” 
“噢，你真是！”唐太斯笑着回答说，“我们的婚书早已写好子。美塞苔丝没有什么财产，我也一样。所以，你看，我们的婚书根本没费多少时间就写好了，而且也没花几个钱。”这个笑话引起众人一阵哄笑和掌声。 
“那么，我们认为只不过是订婚的喜酒变成结婚的喜酒了。”腾格拉尔说。 
“不，不！”唐太斯回答，“可别把人看成是那么小器，明天得动身到巴黎去。四天来回，再加一天的时间办事就够了。三月初我就能回来，回来后，第二天我就请大家喝喜酒。” 
想到又一次有美餐的机会，宾客们更加欢乐无比，老唐太斯还在宴席一开始的时候就曾嫌太静，现在人们是如此嘈杂喧哗，他竟很想找一个机会来向新娘新郎表示祝贺了。 
唐太斯觉察到父亲那种亲热的焦急之情，便愉快地报以感激的一笑。美塞苔丝的眼睛不时地去瞟一眼摆在房子里的钟，她向爱德蒙做了一个手势，示意。 
席间的气氛是愉快的，无拘无束的，这是在社交集会时司空见惯的现象，大家太快乐了以致摆脱了一切拘谨礼仪的束缚。那些在席间觉得座位不称心的人已经换了位置，并找到了称心如意的邻座。有的人都在乱哄哄地说，不住嘴地说着话，谁也不关心谁，大家都在各说各的话。 
弗尔南多苍白的脸色似乎已传染给腾格拉尔的脸上，弗尔南多自己却似乎正在忍受着死囚一般的痛苦，他再也坐不住了，站起来首先离开席，象要躲开这一片震耳欲聋的声音里所洋溢的喜气似的，一言不发地在大厅另一端走来走去。 
弗尔南多似乎要躲开腾格拉尔，而腾格拉尔却偏偏又来找他，卡德鲁斯一见这种情形，也向别房间的那一角走过去。 
“凭良心讲，”卡德鲁斯说，由于唐太斯友善的款待和他喝下的那些美酒的满足劲也起了作用，他脑子里对唐太斯交了好运的妒嫉之意反而一扫而光了，“——凭良心讲，唐太斯实在是一个顶好的人，当我看到他坐在他那漂亮的未婚妻旁边时候，一想到你们昨天的计划用的那有套把戏，真觉得太不应该了。” 
“哦，那事反正又不是真的，”腾格拉尔回答说，“最初我是出于同情弗尔南多受到的打击，但当我看到他甚至做着他的情敌的伴郎仍完全克制住他自己的情感时，我知道这事就不必再多说了。”卡德鲁斯凝视着弗尔南多，弗尔南多的脸色白的象一张纸。“说实在的，”腾格拉尔又说，“姑娘长得可真美，这个牺牲可不算校说真的，我那位未来的船长真是个交好运的家伙！老天爷！我真希望，我如果是他就好了。” 
“我们可以走了吗？美塞苔丝那银铃般的声音问道，“两点钟已经过了，你知道我们说好的在一刻钟之内到维丽大酒家的。” 
“是的，没错！”唐太斯一面大声说，一面急忙站了起来说：“我们马上就走吧！” 
于上全体宾客随声咐和着，也都一起欢呼着站了起来，并开始组成一个行列。 
就在这时，正在密切注意着弗尔南多的腾格拉尔突然看见他象痉挛似的抽搐了一下，踉踉跄跄退到了一扇开着的窗子前面，靠在身边的一把椅子上。此时，只听楼梯上响起了一片嘈杂声并夹杂着士兵整齐的步伐，刀剑的铿锵声以及佩挂物的撞击声，接着又传来了一片由众多声音所组成的嗡嗡声，这片嗡嗡声窒息了喜宴的喧哗声，房间里立刻罩上了一种不安的气氛。 
那嘈声愈来愈近了。房门上响起了三下叩击声。人们神色惊奇面面相觑。 
“我们是来执行法院命令的，”一个响亮的声音喊道，但房间里谁也没有应声，门开了，一个佩挂绶带的警长走了进来，后面跟着四个士兵和一个伍长。在场的人们现在由不安变成了极端的恐惧。 
“请问警长突然驾到，有何贵干？”莫雷尔先生走上前去对那警长说道，他们显然是彼此认识的。“我想一定是发生了什么误会吧。” 
“莫雷尔先生。”警长回答道，“如果是误会，很快就可以澄清的。现在，我只是奉命来把人带走，虽然我自己也很不愿意执行交给我的这项任务，但我又必须完成它。在这些人当中哪位是爱德蒙·唐太斯？”人们的眼睛唰得一下都转了那青年身上，那青年虽也很不安，却依旧很庄严地挺身而出，用坚定的口吻说：“我就是，请问有什么事？” 
“爱德蒙·唐太斯，”警长回答说，“我以法律的名义逮捕你！” 
“逮捕我！”爱德蒙应了一声，脸上微微有点变色，“请问这是为什么？” 
“我不清楚，不过你在第一次被审问的时候就会知道的。” 
莫雷尔先生觉得此事辩也是没用的。一个绶带军官在外执行命令已不再是一个人，而变成了冷酷无情的法律的化身。 
老唐太斯急忙向警长走去，——因为有些事情是做父母的心所无法了解的。他拼命的求情，他的恳求和眼泪虽毫无用处，但他那极度失望的样子却打动了警长的同情心。“先生，”他说，“请你冷静一点。您的儿子大概是触犯了海关或卫生公署的某些条例，很可能在回答几个问题以后就会被释放的。” 
“这到底是怎么回事？”卡德鲁斯横眉怒目地问腾格拉尔，而后者却装出一副莫名其妙的的神情。 
“我怎么知道？”他答道，“我和你一样，对眼前的事根本一无所知，他们说的话我一点儿都不懂。”卡德鲁斯于是用目光四下里寻找弗尔南多，但他已经不见了。 
前一天的情景极其清晰地浮现在他脑子里了。他现在目击的这场突如其来的横祸已揭去了他昨天醉酒时蒙在记忆上的那层薄纱。 
“哼！”他声音嘶哑地对腾格拉尔说，“这个，难道就是你昨天那套鬼把戏里的一部分吧？果真如此的话，玩把戏的那个家伙真该死！这种做法太可耻了。” 
“别胡说了。”腾格拉尔反驳道，“你明明看见我把那张纸撕碎了扔了的。 
“不，你没有！”卡德鲁斯答道，“你只是把它扔在了一边。我看见你把它扔在一个角落里了。” 
“闭嘴！你根本什么也没看见。你当时喝醉了！” 
“弗尔南多去哪儿了？”卡德鲁斯问。 
“我怎么知道？”腾格拉尔回答，“大概是处理他自己的事情去了吧，先别管他在哪儿了，我们赶紧去看看有没有什么办法可以帮一下我们那位可怜的朋友。” 
在他们谈话的时候，唐太斯正和他的朋友们一一握手告别，然后他走到那位官员身边，说：“请诸位放心，我只不过去解释一些小误会而已，我想我又没犯什么法，不会坐牢的。” 
“唔，肯定是这样！”腾格拉尔接着话茬说，他现在已走到大家的前面，“我相信只不过是一点误会而已。” 
唐太斯夹在警长和士兵中间走下楼去。门口已有一辆马车在等候着他了。他钻进了车里，两个兵和那警长也接着进去了，马车就向马赛驶去了。 
“再见了，再见了，我亲爱的爱德蒙！”美塞苔丝扑到栏杆上向他伸出手臂大声喊着。 
这样被带走的人听到那最后的一声呼喊，象感到了他未婚妻的心被撕碎了一般，他从车厢里探出头来喊道：“再见了，美塞苔丝。”于是马车就转过圣尼古位堡的一个拐角不见了。 
“你们大家都在这儿等我！”莫雷尔先生喊道，“我马上找一辆马车赶到马赛去，等打听着消息回来告诉你们。” 
“对呀！”许多声音异口同声的喊道，“去吧，快去快回！” 
莫雷尔先生走了以后，留下来的那些人都有些不知所措。 
老爹和美塞苔丝各自怀着满腹的忧愁木然呆立着，最后，这两个遭受同一打击下的不幸的人的目光终于碰到了一起，悲伤地拥抱在了一起。这时弗尔南多又出现了，他用一只颤抖的手给自己倒了一杯水，一饮而尽，然后在一张椅子上坐了下来。 
美塞苔丝已离开了老人的怀抱，正虚弱地倒在一张椅子上，碰巧弗尔南多的座位就在她的旁边，他本能地把他的椅子拖后了一点。 
“是他！”卡德鲁斯低声对腾格拉尔说，他的眼睛始终没离开过弗尔南多。 
“我倒不这样认为，”那一个回答说，“他太蠢了，绝想不出这种计谋的。我希望那个做孽的人会受惩罚。” 
“你怎么不说那个给他出谋划策的人该受罚呢！”卡德鲁斯说。 
“当然罗，”腾格拉尔说，“不过，并不是每个人都要对他随口说的负责的！” 
“哼，如果随便讲话的真的兑现了就该他负责。” 
这时，对被捕这件事大家都在议论纷纷。 
“腾格拉尔，”有人问，“你对这事怎么看？” 
“我想，”腾格拉尔说，“可能是唐太斯在船上被搜出了什么被认为是违禁品的小东西吧。” 
“但假如他真这样做了，你怎么会不知道呢？腾格拉尔，你不是船上的押运员吗？” 
“我只知道我要对船上装的货物负责。我知道船上装着棉花，是从亚历山大港潘斯德里先生的货仓和士麦拿潘斯考先生的货仓里装上船的。我所知道仅此而已，至于别的什么，我是没必要去过问的。” 
“噢，现在我想起来了！”那可怜的老爹说，“我的儿子昨天告诉我，说他有一小盒咖啡和一点烟草在船上带给我！” 
“你看，这就对了！”腾格拉尔宣称说。“现在祸根找着了，一定是海关关员当我不在的时候上船去搜查，发现了可怜的唐太斯藏着宝贝了。” 
美塞苔丝根本不相信她的爱人被捕的这种说法。她一直努力克制着悲哀，现在突然地放声大哭起来。 
“别哭，别哭，”老人说，“我可怜的孩子，事情会有希望！” 
“会有希望的！腾格拉尔也说。 
“会有希望的！”弗尔南多也想这么说，但他的话却哽住了，他的嘴唇蠕动了一下，但始终没发出声音来。 
“这下好了！好消息！”站在走廊上的一个人忽然喊道。 
“莫雷尔先生回来了。他一定会带好消息给我们的。” 
美塞苔丝和老人急忙奔向前去迎接船主，在门口碰到了他。莫雷尔先生的脸色非常惨白。 
“有什么消息？”大家异口同声地问。 
“唉，诸位，”莫雷尔先生无奈地摇摇头说，“事情比我们预料的要严重得多。” 
“呵，先生，他是无罪的呀！”美塞苔丝抽搭着说。 
“这我相信！”莫雷尔先生回答说，“可是他仍然被指控为——” 
“什么罪名？”老唐太斯问。 
“控他是一个拿破仑党的眼线！” 
读者们一定还记得，在我们这个故事发生的那个年代，这是多么可怕的一个罪名。美塞苔丝绝望地惨叫了一声，而心碎的老人则气息奄奄地倒在了一张椅子上。 
“腾格拉尔！”卡德鲁斯低声说，“你骗了我，——昨天晚上你说的那套鬼把戏已成现实了。现在我明白了。但我不忍心看到一个可怜的老头子和一个无辜的姑娘这样痛苦不堪。我要去把一切都告诉他们。” 
“闭嘴，你这傻瓜！”腾格拉尔急忙抓住他的胳膊恶狠狠地说，“不然我可不负责你自己的人身安全。谁能说清楚唐太斯究竟是有罪还是无罪？船的确停靠过厄尔巴岛，他的确曾离船在岛上呆了一整天。现在，假如从他身上找到什么有关的信件或其他文件，到那时凡是帮他说话的人都会被看作是他的同谋的。” 
出于自私心的本能，卡德鲁斯立刻感觉出了这番话的份量。他满脸恐惧和忧虑地望着腾格拉尔，然后连忙采取了进一步退两步的态度。 
“那么，我们等等再说吧。”他嗫嚅着说道。 
“是啊！”腾格拉尔回答。“我们等等再说吧。假如他的确是无辜的，那自然会被释放，假如的确有罪，那我们可犯不上为他而受连累。” 
“那么我们走吧。我们不能再呆在这儿了。” 
“好，我们走吧！”腾格拉尔为能找到一个一同退场的同伴而感到很高兴。“我们不管这事了，别人爱走不走，随他们的便。” 
他们走了以后，弗尔南多又成了美塞苔丝的保护人了，领她回迦太兰村去了。而唐太斯的一些朋友则护送着那位心碎的老人回家去了。 
爱德蒙被控为拿破仑党的眼线从而被捕的消息很快就在城里流传开了。 
“你能相信有这种事情吗，我亲爱的腾格拉尔？”莫雷尔先生问，他因急于回城去打听唐太斯的新消息，途中赶上了他的押运员和卡德鲁斯。“你认为这种事可能吗？” 
“噢，您知道，我已经对您说过，”腾格拉尔回答说“我觉得他在厄尔巴岛停靠这件事是非常可疑的。” 
“你的这种怀疑除了对我以外还对别人提起过吗？” 
“当然没有！”腾格拉尔回答说。然后又低声耳语道，“您知道，您的叔叔波立卡·莫雷尔先生曾在先朝当过官，而且关于这件事又不怎么隐讳，所以说不定您也会有很大的嫌疑的，人家会说您也不满于拿破仑的垮台。假如我对别人讲了我心中的疑虑那我不是就伤害到了爱德蒙和您么。我很清楚，象我这样做下属的人，不论发生了什么事情，都应该先通知船主，而且必须小心谨慎，不能让其他的人知道才行。” 
“很好，腾格拉尔，很好！”莫雷尔先生说道。“你是一个好小伙子，本来，我在安排那可怜的爱德蒙当法老号的船长的时候，也打算过如何安排你的。” 
“你说什么，先生！” 
“我事先曾问过唐太斯，问他对你有何看法，对你继续在船任职什么意见——因为我已看出你们之间的关系相当冷淡。” 
“他是怎么回答的？” 
“他说他的确因某件事得罪过你，但记不清是为什么了。他说不论是谁，只要船主信任他，他也应该尊敬他。” 
“伪君子！”腾格拉尔低声地骂了一句。 
  
  
“可怜的唐太斯！”卡德鲁斯说。“谁都无法否认他是一个心地高尚的好小伙子！” 
“可就目前这种状况来看，”莫雷尔先生继续说，“我们可别忘了法老号现在是处在没有船长管理的状态之中。” 
“噢！”腾格拉尔回答说，“反正我们三个月之内还不会离开这个港口，但愿到那时，唐太斯能被释放出来。” 
“这点我毫不怀疑，只是这期间我们怎么办呢？” 
“哦，这期间反正我在这儿，莫雷尔先生，”腾格拉尔答道，“您也知道，我管理船上一切的本领，并不亚于经验最丰富的现任船长。假如您愿意让我为您效劳，这对您也是很有利的，因为唐太斯一旦获释回来，法老号上的人事就不必再变动了，只要唐太斯和我各干各的本职工作就行了。” 
“谢谢，我的好朋友，谢谢你的这个好主意——这下可把所有问题都解决了。我立刻任命你来指挥法老号，并监督卸货。不论个人出了什么事，业务总不能受影响。” 
“请放心好了，莫雷尔先生，但您想我们什么时候才去探望可怜的爱德蒙呢？” 
“我见到维尔福先生以后，就可以马上让你知道的，我要尽力要求他为爱德蒙说说情。我知道他是个激烈的保王党。但是，除了这点和他那检察官的地位以外，他也是个人，而且我不认为他是个坏人！” 
“也许不是坏人，”腾格拉尔答道，“但我听说，他野心勃勃，而野心又最会使人的心肠变硬的！” 
“唉，也只能这样了！”莫雷尔先生说，“我们走一步看一步吧！你现在赶快到船上去吧，我等会儿到船上来找你。”说着那可敬的船主离开了那两位朋友，向法院的方向走去了。 
“你看，”腾格拉尔对卡德鲁斯说，“事情变复杂了吧。你现在还想去为爱德蒙辩护吗？” 
“不，当然不，但我觉得开玩笑竟开出这样可怕的后果也实在太可怕了。” 
“我倒要问问，这种后果是谁造成的？不是你，也不是我，而是弗尔南多。你当然知道得很清楚，我把那张纸丢在房间的角落里了，——真的，我还以为我当时把它撕了呢。” 
“噢，没有！”卡德鲁斯答道，“这一点我记得很清楚，你没有撕。我清清楚楚地看见你把它揉皱了丢在凉棚角落里，我倒真希望那纸条现在还在那儿。” 
“嗯，如果你的确看到过，那又有什么办法，一定是弗尔南多把它拾了起来，另外抄了一遍，或改写了一遍，或许，他甚至根本就没重抄。现在我想起来了，天哪！他也许就是把那张纸条给送去了１谢天谢地，幸亏我那笔迹是伪装过的。” 
“那么，你是否早就知道唐太斯参与了谋反的呢？” 
“不，我早就说过，我还以为只不过是一个玩笑罢了。但似乎是，象阿尔勒甘一样，我在玩笑中道出了实情。” 
“可是，”卡德鲁斯又说道，“我真不愿意看到发生这样的事，或至少应该与我无关。你就等着瞧吧，腾格拉尔，这件事会使我们两个都倒霉的。” 
“胡说！如果这件事真会带来什么灾难，那也应该落到那个罪人的头上，而那个人，你也知道，是弗尔南多。我们怎么会牵扯在里面呢？只要我们自己保守秘密，不声不响的，对这件事不去对别人泄露一个字就得了。这样你就会看到那风波过去，而我们丝毫不受任何影响。” 
“那好吧！”卡德鲁斯答应了一声，就挥手告别了腾格拉尔，朝梅朗港方向走去了，他一边走，一面晃动着脑袋嘴里还念念有词的，像在自己苦思冥想似的。 
“好了，现在，”腾格拉尔自言自语地说，“一切都已随了我的心愿。我已暂时当上了法老号船长，而且还可能永远地当下去，只要卡德鲁斯那个傻瓜不多嘴多舌的。我只怕唐太斯会重新放出来的。不过，他已落到了法院的手里，”他又带着微笑说，“而法院是公正的，”说着，他便跳进了一只小艇，叫人摇到法老号上去，因为莫雷尔先生说过要在那儿见他的。 
Chapter 6 The Deputy Procureur du Roi
 IN ONE of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain, a second marriage feast was being celebrated, almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantès. In this case, however, although the occasion of the entertainment was similar, the company was strikingly dissimilar. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors, soldiers, and those belonging to the humblest grade of life, the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society,--magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper's reign; officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Condé; and younger members of families, brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr, and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god. 
The guests were still at table, and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South, where unhappily, for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. 
The emperor, now king of the petty Island of Elba, after having held sovereign sway over one-half of the world, counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls,--after having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human beings, uttered in ten different languages,--was looked upon here as a ruined man, separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. 
The magistrates freely discussed their political views; the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic, while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine. It was not over the downfall of the man, but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea, that they rejoiced, and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. 
An old man, decorated with the cross of Saint Louis, now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. It was the Marquis de Saint-Méran. This toast, recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France, excited universal enthusiasm; glasses were elevated in the air à l'Anglais, and the ladies, snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms, strewed the table with their floral treasures. In a word, an almost poetical fervor prevailed. 
"Ah," said the Marquise de Saint-Méran, a woman with a stern, forbidding eye, though still noble and distinguished in appearance, despite her fifty years--"ah, these revolutionists, who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror, would be compelled to own, were they here, that all true devotion was on our side, since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch, while they, on the contrary, made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun; yes, yes, they could not help admitting that the king, for whom we sacrificed rank, wealth, and station was truly our 'Louis the well-beloved,' while their wretched usurper his been, and ever will be, to them their evil genius, their 'Napoleon the accursed.' Am I not right, Villefort?" 
"I beg your pardon, madame. I really must pray you to excuse me, but--in truth--I was not attending to the conversation." 
"Marquise, marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast, "let the young people alone; let me tell you, on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics." 
"Never mind, dearest mother," said a young and lovely girl, with a profusion of light brown hair, and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal, "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M. de Villefort, so as to prevent his listening to what you said. But there--now take him--he is your own for as long as you like. M. Villefort, I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you." 
"If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught, I shall be delighted to answer," said M. de Villefort. 
"Never mind, Renée," replied the marquise, with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features; but, however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature, there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart, and that is the shrine of maternal love. "I forgive you. What I was saying, Villefort, was, that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity, enthusiasm, or devotion." 
"They had, however, what supplied the place of those fine qualities," replied the young man, "and that was fanaticism. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West, and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers, not only as a leader and lawgiver, but also as the personification of equality." 
"He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy's sake, then, what would you call Robespierre? Come, come, do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican, who, to my mind, has usurped quite enough." 
"Nay, madame; I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal--that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze; that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vend?me. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two men; one is the equality that elevates, the other is the equality that degrades; one brings a king within reach of the guillotine, the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. Observe," said Villefort, smiling, "I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels, and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April, in the year 1814, were lucky days for France, worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order; and that explains how it comes to pass that, fallen, as I trust he is forever, Napoleon has still retained a train of parasitical satellites. Still, marquise, it has been so with other usurpers--Cromwell, for instance, who was not half so bad as Napoleon, had his partisans and advocates." 
"Do you know, Villefort, that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it, it is impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of the old leaven." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. 
"'Tis true, madame," answered he, "that my father was a Girondin, but he was not among the number of those who voted for the king's death; he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the Reign of Terror, and had well-nigh lost his head on the same scaffold on which your father perished." 
"True," replied the marquise, without wincing in the slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up; "but bear in mind, if you please, that our respective parents underwent persecution and proscription from diametrically opposite principles; in proof of which I may remark, that while my family remained among the stanchest adherents of the exiled princes, your father lost no time in joining the new government; and that while the Citizen Noirtier was a Girondin, the Count Noirtier became a senator." 
"Dear mother," interposed Renée, "you know very well it was agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be laid aside." 
"Suffer me, also, madame," replied Villefort, "to add my earnest request to Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran's, that you will kindly allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal the past. What avails recrimination over matters wholly past recall? For my own part, I have laid aside even the name of my father, and altogether disown his political principles. He was--nay, probably may still be--a Bonapartist, and is called Noirtier; I, on the contrary, am a stanch royalist, and style myself de Villefort. Let what may remain of revolutionary sap exhaust itself and die away with the old trunk, and condescend only to regard the young shoot which has started up at a distance from the parent tree, without having the power, any more than the wish, to separate entirely from the stock from which it sprung." 
"Bravo, Villefort!" cried the marquis; "excellently well said! Come, now, I have hopes of obtaining what I have been for years endeavoring to persuade the marquise to promise; namely, a perfect amnesty and forgetfulness of the past." 
"With all my heart," replied the marquise; "let the past be forever forgotten. I promise you it affords me as little pleasure to revive it as it does you. All I ask is, that Villefort will be firm and inflexible for the future in his political principles. Remember, also, Villefort, that we have pledged ourselves to his majesty for your fealty and strict loyalty, and that at our recommendation the king consented to forget the past, as I do" (and here she extended to him her hand)--"as I now do at your entreaty. But bear in mind, that should there fall in your way any one guilty of conspiring against the government, you will be so much the more bound to visit the offence with rigorous punishment, as it is known you belong to a suspected family." 
"Alas, madame," returned Villefort, "my profession, as well as the times in which we live, compels me to be severe. I have already successfully conducted several public prosecutions, and brought the offenders to merited punishment. But we have not done with the thing yet." 
"Do you, indeed, think so?" inquired the marquise. 
"I am, at least, fearful of it. Napoleon, in the Island of Elba, is too near France, and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans. Marseilles is filled with half-pay officers, who are daily, under one frivolous pretext or other, getting up quarrels with the royalists; from hence arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons, and assassinations in the lower." 
"You have heard, perhaps," said the Comte de Salvieux, one of M. de Saint-Méran's oldest friends, and chamberlain to the Comte d'Artois, "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?" 
"Yes; they were talking about it when we left Paris," said M. de Saint-Méran; "and where is it decided to transfer him?" 
"To Saint Helena." 
"For heaven's sake, where is that?" asked the marquise. 
"An island situated on the other side of the equator, at least two thousand leagues from here," replied the count. 
"So much the better. As Villefort observes, it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica, where he was born, and Naples, of which his brother-in-law is king, and face to face with Italy, the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son." 
"Unfortunately," said Villefort, "there are the treaties of 1814, and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts." 
"Oh, well, we shall find some way out of it," responded M. de Salvieux. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien." 
"Well," said the marquise, "it seems probable that, by the aid of the Holy Alliance, we shall be rid of Napoleon; and we must trust to the vigilance of M. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans. Tbe king is either a king or no king; if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France, he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity; and this can best be effected by employing the most inflexible agents to put down every attempt at conspiracy--'tis the best and surest means of preventing mischief." 
"Unfortunately, madame," answered Villefort, "the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place." 
"Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it." 
"Nay, madame, the law is frequently powerless to effect this; all it can do is to avenge the wrong done." 
"Oh, M. de Villefort," cried a beautiful young creature, daughter to the Comte de Salvieux, and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran, "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles. I never was in a law-court; I am told it is so very amusing!" 
"Amusing, certainly," replied the young man, "inasmuch as, instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre, you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress--a drama of life. The prisoner whom you there see pale, agitated, and alarmed, instead of--as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy--going home to sup peacefully with his family, and then retiring to rest, that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow,--is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene. Of this, however, be assured, that should any favorable opportunity present itself, I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present." 
"For shame, M. de Villefort!" said Renée, becoming quite pale; "don't you see how you are frightening us?--and yet you laugh." 
"What would you have? 'Tis like a duel. I have already recorded sentence of death, five or six times, against the movers of political conspiracies, and who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened, and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?" 
"Gracious heavens, M. de Villefort," said Renée, becoming more and more terrified; "you surely are not in earnest." 
"Indeed I am," replied the young magistrate with a smile; "and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness, the case would only be still more aggravated. Suppose, for instance, the prisoner, as is more than probable, to have served under Napoleon--well, can you expect for an instant, that one accustomed, at the word of his commander, to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe, will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy, than to slaughter his fellow-creatures, merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides, one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused, in order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile, as though in mockery of my words. No; my pride is to see the accused pale, agitated, and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence." Renée uttered a smothered exclamation. 
"Bravo!" cried one of the guests; "that is what I call talking to some purpose." 
"Just the person we require at a time like the present," said a second. 
"What a splendid business that last case of yours was, my dear Villefort!" remarked a third; "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. Upon my word, you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him." 
"Oh, as for parricides, and such dreadful people as that," interposed Renée, "it matters very little what is done to them; but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues"-- 
"Why, that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit; for, don't you see, Renée, the king is the father of his people, and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two millions of souls, is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?" 
"I don't know anything about that," replied Renée; "but, M. de Villefort, you have promised me--have you not?--always to show mercy to those I plead for." 
"Make yourself quite easy on that point," answered Villefort, with one of his sweetest smiles; "you and I will always consult upon our verdicts." 
"My love," said the marquise, "attend to your doves, your lap-dogs, and embroidery, but do not meddle with what you do not understand. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point." 
"Cedant arma togae," said Villefort with a bow. 
"I cannot speak Latin," responded the marquise. 
"Well," said Renée, "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own--a physician, for instance. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?" 
"Dear, good Renée," whispered Villefort, as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. 
"Let us hope, my child," cried the marquis, "that M. de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province; if so, he will have achieved a noble work." 
"And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father's conduct," added the incorrigible marquise. 
"Madame," replied Villefort, with a mournful smile, "I have already had the honor to observe that my father has--at least, I hope so--abjured his past errors, and that he is, at the present moment, a firm and zealous friend to religion and order--a better royalist, possibly, than his son; for he has to atone for past dereliction, while I have no other impulse than warm, decided preference and conviction." Having made this well-turned speech, Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory, much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. 
"Do you know, my dear Villefort," cried the Comte de Salvieux, "that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries, when questioned by his majesty's principal chamberlain touching the singularity of an alliance between the son of a Girondin and the daughter of an officer of the Duc de Condé; and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles. Then the king, who, without our suspecting it, had overheard our conversation, interrupted us by saying, 'Villefort'--observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier, but, on the contrary, placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort--'Villefort,' said his majesty, 'is a young man of great judgment and discretion, who will be sure to make a figure in his profession; I like him much, and it gave me great pleasure to hear that he was about to become the son-in-law of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran. I should myself have recommended the match, had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it.'" 
"Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured Villefort. 
"I give you his very words; and if the marquis chooses to be candid, he will confess that they perfectly agree with what his majesty said to him, when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter." 
"That is true," answered the marquis. 
"How much do I owe this gracious prince! What is there I would not do to evince my earnest gratitude!" 
"That is right," cried the marquise. "I love to see you thus. Now, then, were a conspirator to fall into your hands, he would be most welcome." 
"For my part, dear mother." interposed Renée, "I trust your wishes will not prosper, and that Providence will only permit petty offenders, poor debtors, and miserable cheats to fall into M. de Villefort's hands,--then I shall be contented." 
"Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches, measles, and the stings of wasps, or any other slight affection of the epidermis. If you wish to see me the king's attorney, you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician." 
At this moment, and as though the utterance of Villefort's wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment, a servant entered the room, and whispered a few words in his ear. Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business; he soon, however, returned, his whole face beaming with delight. Renée regarded him with fond affection; and certainly his handsome features, lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation, seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover. 
"You were wishing just now," said Villefort, addressing her, "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. Well, I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing--that of not being able to call a day my own, not even that of my betrothal." 
"And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran, with an air of deep interest. 
"For a very serious matter, which bids fair to make work for the executioner." 
"How dreadful!" exclaimed Renée, turning pale. 
"Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words. 
"Why, if my information prove correct, a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered." 
"Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. 
"I will read you the letter containing the accusation, at least," said Villefort:-- 
"'The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country, that one named Edmond Dantès, mate of the ship Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper, and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantès, who either carries the letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father's abode. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantès on board the Pharaon.'" 
"But," said Renée, "this letter, which, after all, is but an anonymous scrawl, is not even addressed to you, but to the king's attorney." 
"True; but that gentleman being absent, his secretary, by his orders, opened his letters; thinking this one of importance, he sent for me, but not finding me, took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party." 
"Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?" said the marquise. 
"Nay, dear mother, say the accused person. You know we cannot yet pronounce him guilty." 
"He is in safe custody," answered Villefort; "and rely upon it, if the letter is found, he will not be likely to be trusted abroad again, unless he goes forth under the especial protection of the headsman." 
"And where is the unfortunate being?" asked Renée. 
"He is at my house." 
"Come, come, my friend," interrupted the marquise, "do not neglect your duty to linger with us. You are the king's servant, and must go wherever that service calls you." 
"O Villefort!" cried Renée, clasping her hands, and looking towards her lover with piteous earnestness, "be merciful on this the day of our betrothal." 
The young man passed round to the side of the table where the fair pleader sat, and leaning over her chair said tenderly,-- 
"To give you pleasure, my sweet Renée, I promise to show all the lenity in my power; but if the charges brought against this Bonapartist hero prove correct, why, then, you really must give me leave to order his head to be cut off." Renée shuddered. 
"Never mind that foolish girl, Villefort," said the marquise. "She will soon get over these things." So saying, Madame de Saint-Méran extended her dry bony hand to Villefort, who, while imprinting a son-in-law's respectful salute on it, looked at Renée, as much as to say, "I must try and fancy 'tis your dear hand I kiss, as it should have been." 
"These are mournful auspices to accompany a betrothal," sighed poor Renée. 
"Upon my word, child!" exclaimed the angry marquise, "your folly exceeds all bounds. I should be glad to know what connection there can possibly be between your sickly sentimentality and the affairs of the state!" 
"O mother!" murmured Renée. 
"Nay, madame, I pray you pardon this little traitor. I promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty, I will be most inflexibly severe;" then casting an expressive glance at his betrothed, which seemed to say, "Fear not, for your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy," and receiving a sweet and approving smile in return, Villefort quitted the room. 　 
差不多就在唐太斯举行婚宴的同一个时间里，大法院路上墨杜萨喷泉对面的一座宏大的贵族式的巨宅里，也正有人在设宴请吃订婚酒。但这儿的宾客可不是水手，士兵和那些头面人物下层平民百姓；团聚在这儿的都是马赛上流社会的头面人物，——文官曾在拿破仑统治的时期辞职退休；武官则从法军里开小差并投身于外国列强的军队里，而那些青年人则都在咒骂那个逆贼的环境中长大的，五年的流放的生活本该把这个人变成一个殉道者，而十五年的复辟生涯却使他被尊为半神的人。 
宾客们围坐在餐桌前，席间的谈话热烈而紧张，谈话里充满了当时使南方居民们激昂复仇的情绪，法国南部曾经过五百年的宗教斗争，所以党派之间的对立的情绪极其激烈。 
那个皇帝，曾一度统治过半个世界，并听惯了一亿二千万臣民用十种不同的语言高呼“拿破仑万岁！”现在却被贬为爱尔巴岛的国王，仅仅统治着五六千人；在餐桌边上这些人看来，他已经永远失去了法国，永远失去了他在法国的皇位了。 
那些文官们滔滔不绝地讨论着他们的政治观点；武官们则在谈论莫斯科和来比锡战役，女人们则正在议论着约瑟芬皇后离婚的事。这一群保皇党人不但在庆祝一个人的垮台，而且还在庆祝一种主义的灭亡，他们相信政治上的繁荣已重新在他们眼前展现开来，他们已从痛苦的恶梦中醒来了。 
一个佩戴着圣路易十字勋章的老人站了起来，他提议为国王路易十八的健康干杯。这位老人是圣梅朗侯爵。这一杯酒立刻使人联想到了在哈威尔的放逐生活和那爱好和平的法国国王，大家群情激昂，纷纷学英国人举杯祝贺的样子把酒杯举到了空中，太太小姐们则把挂在她们胸前的花束解开来散花女神般地把花撒了一桌。一时间，席上气氛热烈充满了诗意。 
圣·梅朗侯爵夫人有着一对严厉而令人憎恶的眼睛，虽然是已有五十岁了但看上去仍有贵族气派，她说：“那些革命党人，他们不仅赶走我们，还抢走我们的财产，到后来在恐怖时期却只卖了一点点钱。他们如果在这儿，就不得不承认，真正的信仰还是站在我们这一边的，因为我们自愿追随一个没落的王朝的命运，而他们却恰恰相反，他们只知道对一个初升的朝阳顶礼膜拜，是的，是的，我们不得不承认：我们为之牺牲了官位财富的这位国王，才真正是我们‘万民爱戴的路易’，而他们那个篡权夺位者却永远只是个被人诅咒的‘该死的拿破仑’。我说的对不对，维尔福？” 
“您说什么，请您原谅，夫人。真的请您原谅，我刚才没留心听您在说什么。” 
“夫人，夫人！”刚才那个提议祝酒的老人插进来说，“别去打扰那些年青人吧，他们快要结婚了，当然他们要谈什么就去谈好了，只是自然不会去谈政治了。” 
“算了吧，我亲爱的妈妈，”一个年轻的美人说道，她长着浓密褐色头发，眼睛水灵灵顾盼如珍珠般闪亮，“这都怪我不好，是我刚才缠住了维尔福先生，以致使他没有听到您说的话。好了现在您跟他说吧，而且您爱谈多久就谈多久。维尔福先生，我请您注意，我母亲在跟您说话呢。” 
“如果侯爵夫人愿意把刚才的话再说一遍，我是非常乐于答复。”福尔维先生说。 
“算了，蕾妮，我饶了你。”侯爵夫人说道，她那严厉死板的脸上露出一点温柔慈爱的神色。 
女人总是这样的，其他的一切感情或许都会萎谢，但在母性的胸怀里，总有宽厚善良的一面，这是上帝特地给母爱留下的一席之地——“福尔维，我刚才说：拿破仑党分子丝毫没有我们那种真诚，热情和忠心。” 
“啊，夫人，他们倒也有代替这些品德的东西，”青年回答说，“那就是狂热。拿破仑是西方的穆罕默德，他的那些庸庸碌碌却又野心勃勃的信徒们很崇拜他，他们不仅把他看作一个领袖和立法者，还把他看作平民的化身。” 
“他！”侯爵夫人喊道，“拿破仑，平等的象征！天哪！那么，你把罗伯斯庇尔［罗伯斯庇尔（１７５８—１７９４）法国资产阶级革命时期时代雅各宾党的领袖，革命政府的首脑，在热月九日政变后，被处死。］又比做什么？算了，不要把后者头衔拿来去赐给那个科西嘉人［指拿破仑］了。我看，篡位的事已经够多的了。” 
“不，夫人，如果给这些英雄们树上纪念像的话，我要给他们每个人一个正确的地位——罗伯庇尔的应该树在他建立的断头台那个地方；拿破仑的则应该刻在旺多姆广场上的廊柱上。这两个人所代表的平等，其性质上是相反的，差别就在于——前一个是降低了平等，而后一个则是抬高了平等的地位。一个要把国王送上断头台，而另一个则要把人民抬高到王位上。请注意，”维尔福微着笑说，“我并不是在否认我刚才说的这两个人都是闹革命的混蛋，我承认热月九日［热月九日是罗伯斯庇尔等人被捕的日子。］和四月四日［这里指的是１８１４年４月初拿破仑退位被囚的日子］是法国并不幸运的两个日子，是值得王朝和文明社会的朋友们庆祝的日子，我想说的是，虽然我想信拿破仑已永远一蹶不振，但他却仍然拥有一批狂热的信徒。还有，侯爵夫人，其他那些大逆不道的人也都是这样的，——譬如说，克伦威尔吧［克伦威尔（１５９９—１６５８），英国政治家，资产阶级革命的领导人。］他虽然还不及拿破仑的一半，但他也有他的信徒。” 
“你知道不知道，维尔福，你满口都是革命党那种可怕的强辩，这一点我倒可以原谅，一个吉伦党徒［１８世纪法国资产阶级革命时期，代表大工商业资产阶级的政党，１７９２年后转向反对革命。］的儿子，难道会对恐怖保留一点兴趣。” 
维尔福的脸涨的通红，“不错，夫人，”他回答道，“我的父亲是一个吉伦特党党员，但他并没有去投票赞成处死国王。在恐怖时期，他也和您一样是一个受难者，也几乎和您的父亲一样在同一个断头台上被杀。” 
“不错，”侯爵夫人回答，这个被唤醒的悲惨的记忆丝毫没使她动容，“但我要请您记住，我们两家的父亲虽然同时被害，但他们各自的原因却是大相径庭的。为了证明这一点，我来把旧事重新提一遍：亲王［指路易十八］被流放的时候，我的家庭成员依旧是他忠诚的臣仆，而你的父亲却迫不及待的去投奔了新政府，公民瓦蒂成为吉伦特党以后，就摇身一变成了瓦蒂埃伯爵，并以上议员和政治家的姿态出现了。” 
“亲爱的妈妈，”蕾妮插进来说：“您是知道的，大家早已讲好了的，别再提这些讨厌的往事了。” 
“夫人，”维尔福说道，“我同意圣·梅明小姐的话，垦求您把过去忘了吧，这些陈年老账还翻它做什么？我本人不仅放弃了我父亲的政治主张，而且还抛弃了他的姓。他以前是——不，或许现在还是——一个拿破仑党人，他叫他的诺瓦蒂埃。我呢，相反，是一个忠诚的保皇党人，我姓我的维尔福。在一棵老树上还残余着点革命的液汁，就让它随着枯萎的老树干一起去干枯吧，至于那些新生的丫枝，它生长的地方离主干已隔开了一段距离，它很想和主干完全脱离关系，只是心有余而力不足罢了。” 
“好，维尔福！”侯爵叫道，“说得妙极了！这几年来，我总在劝侯爵夫人，忘掉过去的事情，但从未成功过，但愿你能替我说服她。” 
“好了，”侯爵夫人说道；“让我们永远忘记过去的事吧！这样再好不过了。至少，维尔福将来一定不会再动摇了。记住，维尔福，我们已用我们的身家性命向皇上为你作了担保，正因为如此，皇上才答应不追究过去（说到这里，她把她的手伸给他吻了一下），象我现在答应你的请求一样。你也要牢牢记祝要是有谁犯了颠覆政府罪而落到了你的手里，你可一定得严惩罪犯，因为大家都知道，你出身于一个可疑的家庭。” 
“嗨，夫人！”维尔福回答说，“我的职业，正象我们现在所处的这个时代一样，要求我不得不严厉的，我已经很顺利的处理了几次公诉，都使罪犯受了应得的惩罚。不幸的是，我们现在还没到万事大吉的时候。” 
“你真这样认为吗？”侯爵夫人问。 
“恐怕是这样的。那在厄尔巴岛上的拿破仑，离法国仍然太近了，由于他近在咫尺，他的信徒们就会仍然抱有希望。马赛到处是些领了半饷休养的军官，他们每天尽为些鸡毛蒜皮的小事而借口和保皇党人吵架，所以上流社会中常常闹决斗，而下层社会中则时常闹暗杀。” 
“你或许也听说过吧？”萨尔维欧伯爵说。萨尔维欧伯爵是圣·梅朗侯爵老朋友之一，又是亚托士伯爵的侍从官。“听说神圣同盟想要移居他地呢。” 
“是的，我们离开巴黎的时候，他们正在研究这件事，”圣·梅朗侯爵说，“他们要把他移居到什么地方云呢？” 
“到圣赫勒拿岛。” 
“到圣·爱仑？那是个什么地方？”侯爵夫人问。 
“是赤道那边的一个岛，离这儿有六千哩。”伯爵回答。 
“那好极了！正如维尔福所说的，把这样一个人留在现在那个地方真是太蠢了，那儿一边靠近科西嘉——他出生的地方，一边靠近那勒斯——他妹夫在那儿做国王的地方，而对面就是意大利，他曾垂涎过那儿的主权，还想使他儿子做那儿的国王呢。” 
“不幸的是，”维尔福说，“我们被一八一四年的条约束缚着，除非破坏那些条约，否则我们是无法动一动拿破仑的。” 
“哼，那些条约迟早要被破坏，”萨尔维欧伯爵说，“不幸是德·昂甘公爵就是被他枪毙的，难道我们还要为他这样严守条约吗？” 
“嗯，”侯爵夫人说，“有神圣同盟的帮助，我们有可能除掉拿破仑，至于他在马赛的那些信徒，我们必须让维尔福先生来予以肃清。要做国王就得象一个国王，那样来统治不然就干脆不做国王，如果我们承认他是法国的最高统治者，就必须为他这个王国保持和平与安宁。而最好的办法就是任命一批忠贞不渝的大臣来平定每一次可能的暴乱，——这是防止出乱子的最好方法。” 
“夫人，”维尔福回答说，“不幸的是法律之手段虽强硬却无法做到防患于未然。” 
“那么，法律的工作只是来弥补祸患了。” 
“不，夫人，这一步法律也常常无力办到，它所能做的，只是惩戒既成的祸患而已。” 
“噢，维尔福先生！”一个美丽的年轻姑娘喊道，她是萨尔维欧伯爵的女儿，圣·梅朗小姐的密友，“您想想办法，我们还在马赛的时候办几件轰动的案子吧，我从来没到过法庭看审讯案子，我听说那儿非常有趣！” 
“有趣，当然罗，”青年答道，“比起在剧院里看杜撰的悲剧当然要有趣得多，在法院里，您所看到的案子是活生生的悲剧，——真正人生悲剧。您在那儿所看到的犯人，脸色苍白，焦急，惊恐，而当那场悲剧降下幕以后，他却无法回家平静地和他的家人共进晚餐，然后休息，准备明天再来重演一遍那悲哀的样子，他离开了您的视线以后，就被押回到了牢房里，被交给了刽子手。您自己来决定吧，看看您的神经能否受得了这样的场面。对这种事，请您放心，一旦有什么好机会，我一定不会忘了通知您，至于到场不到场，自然由您自己来决定。” 
蕾妮脸色苍白地说：“您难道没看见您把我们都吓成什么样了吗？您还笑呢。” 
“那你们想看到些什么？这是一种生死决斗。算起来，我已经判处过五六个政治犯和其他罪犯的死刑了，而谁能断定此刻又有多少正磨刀霍霍？伺机来对付我呢？” 
“我的天！维尔福先生，”蕾妮说，她已愈来愈害怕了，“您不是在开玩笑吧？” 
“我说的是真话，”年轻的法官面带微笑地回答说，“碰到有趣的审问，年轻的姑娘希望满足她的好奇心，而我是希望满足我的进取心，所以这种案件只会越审越严重。举个例子来说，在拿破仑手下的那些士兵——您能相信吗，他们习惯于听到命令就盲目地前冲去杀他从没见过的俄国人，奥地利人或匈牙利人，但当他们一旦知道了自己的私人仇敌以后，竟会畏畏缩缩地不敢用小刀刺进他的心脏？而且，这种事主要的是敌意在起作用，假如不是因为敌意，我们的职业就毫无意义了。 
对我来说，当我看到被告眼中冒着怒火的时候，我就会觉得勇气倍增，精神亢奋。这已不再是一场诉讼，而是一场战斗。我攻击他，他反击我，我加倍地进攻，于是战斗就结束了，象所有的战斗一样，其结果不是胜就是败。整个诉讼过程就是这么一回事，其间的在于言辞争辩是否有利，如果被告嘲笑我说的话，我便想到，我一定是哪儿说的不好，我说的话一定苍白无力而不得当的。那么，您想，当一个检察官证实被告是有罪的，并看到被告在他的雄辩之下脸色苍白，低头认罪的时候，他会感到多么得意啊！那个低下的头不久就要被砍掉了——”蕾妮轻轻地叫了一声。 
“好！”有一个来宾喊道，“这正是我所谓有意义的谈话。” 
“他正是目前我们所需要的人材。”第二个说。 
“上次那件案子您办得漂亮极了，我亲爱的维尔福！”第三个说，“我是指那个谋杀生父的案子。说真的，他还没被交给刽子手之前，就已被您置于死地了。” 
“噢！说到那个东式父的逆子，对这种罪犯，什么惩罚都不过分的，”蕾妮插进来说道，“但对那些不幸的政治犯，他们惟一的罪名不就是参与政治阴谋——” 
“什么，那可是最大逆不道的罪名。难道您不明白吗，蕾妮，君为民父，凡是任何阴谋或计划想推翻或谋杀三千二百万人民之父的生命和安全的人，不就是一个更坏的弑父逆子吗？” 
“那种事我一点都不懂，”蕾妮回答，“可是，不管怎样维尔福先生，您已经答应过我——不是吗？——对那些我为他们求情的人，一定要从宽处理的。” 
“这一点您放心好了，”维尔福带着他甜蜜的微笑回答。 
“对于最终的判决，我们一定来商量着办好了。” 
“宝贝，”侯爵夫人说，“你不要去照顾一下鸽子，你的小狗和刺绣吧，别来干预那些你根本不懂的事。这种年头，真是武事不修，文官得道，关于这一点，有一句拉丁话说得非常深刻。” 
“‘Ｃｅｄａｎｔａｒｍａｔｏｇ，’［拉丁文：不要武器，要长袍（即：偃武修文）］”维尔福微微欠身道。 
“我不敢说拉丁语。”侯爵夫人说。 
“嗯，”蕾妮说，“我真觉的有点儿遗憾，您为什么不选择另外一种职业——譬如说，做一个医生，杀人天使，虽然有天使之称，但在我看来似乎总是可怕的。” 
“亲爱的，好心的蕾妮！”维尔福低声说道温柔地看了一眼那可爱的姑娘。 
“我的孩子，“侯爵大声说，“维尔福先生将成为本省道德上和政治上的医生，这是一种高尚的职业。” 
“而且可以洗刷掉他父亲的行为给人们种下的印象。”本性难移的侯爵夫人又接上一句。 
“夫人，”维尔福苦笑着说道，“我很幸运地看到我父亲已经——至少我希望——公开承认了他过去的错误，他目前已是宗教和秩序的忠诚的朋友——一个或许比他的儿子还要好的保皇党，因为他是带着忏悔之情，而我只不过是凭着一腔热血罢了。”说完这篇斟字酌句演讲以后，维尔福环顾了一下四周，以观察他演说词的效果好象他此刻是在法庭上对旁听席讲话似的。 
“好啊，我亲爱的维尔福，”萨尔维欧伯爵大声说道“您的话简直就象那次我在伊勒里宫讲的一样，那次御前大臣问我，他说一个吉伦特党徒的儿子同一个保皇党的女儿的联姻是否有点奇特，他很理解这种政治上化敌为友的主张，而且这正是国王的主张。想不到国王听到了我们的谈话，他插话说‘维尔福’——请注意。国王在这儿并没有叫‘诺瓦蒂埃’这个名字，相反的却很郑重地使用了‘维尔福’这个姓。国王说“‘维尔福’是一个极有判断能力，极小心细致的青年，他在他那一行一定会成为一个出人头地的人物，我很喜欢他，我很高兴听到他将要成为圣·梅朗侯爵夫妇的女婿。倘若不是他们先来求我同意这桩婚事的话，我自己本来也是这么想把这一对撮合起来的。” 
“陛下是那样说的吗，伯爵？”维尔福喜不自禁地问。 
“我是照他的话说的，一个字也没改。如果侯爵愿意直言相告的话，他一定会承认，我所讲的这些和他六个月前去见陛下求他恩准和他女儿的婚事时陛下对他讲的话完全一致。” 
“是这样的，”侯爵回答说，“他说的是实情。” 
我对这位宽宏慈悲的国王是感恩载德！我将竭尽全力为国王效劳”。 
“那太好了，”侯爵夫人大声说道，“我就喜欢你这个样子，现在，好了，如果现在一个谋反分子落在你的手里，我们可正等着他呢。” 
“我，啊，亲爱的妈妈”，蕾妮说。“我祈祷上帝请他不要听您的话，请他只让一些无足轻重的小犯人，穷苦的债务人，可怜的骗子落到维尔福先生的手里，那样我们晚上睡觉才能安稳。 
“那还不是一回事”维尔福大笑着说，“您就等于祈求只许一个医生治头痛，麻疹，蜂蜇，或一些轻微病症一样，您希望我当检察官的话，您就应该给我来一些疑难病症的病人，这样才能显出我这个医生医术高明呀。” 
正在这时，象是维尔福的愿望一说出口就能达到似的，一个仆人走了进来，在他的耳边低声说了些什么，维尔福立刻站起来离开了席位，说有要事待办，就走了出去，但一会他又回来了，满脸洋溢着喜悦的神色。蕾妮含情脉脉地望着他，她钦慕凝视着她那温雅聪明的爱人，当然了，他有漂亮的仪容，眼睛里闪耀着非凡的热情奋发的光芒，这些正是她爱慕的。 
您刚才希望我去做一个医生”维尔福对她说道“好吧，同希腊神医埃斯科拉庇的教条相比我致少有一点是大同小异的，就是没有哪一天可以说是属于我自己的，即使是在我订婚的这一天。” 
“刚才又要叫你到哪儿去？”圣·梅朗小姐微微带着不安的神色问。 
“唉！假如我听到的话是真的，哪么现在就有一个病人，已危在旦夕了，这种病很严重，已经病得行将就木了。” 
“多可怕呀！”蕾妮惊叫了起来，她本来因激动而变得发红的面颊变得煞白。 
“真有这么一会事？”在座的宾客们异口同声地惊喊了起来。 
“噢，如果我得到的消息确凿的话，刚才我们又发现一次拿破仑党的阴谋活动。” 
“这次可能是真的吗？”侯爵夫人喊到。 
“请让我来把这封密信念给你们听吧。”维尔福说“‘敝人系拥护王室及教会之人士，兹向您报告，有爱德蒙·唐太斯其人，系法老号之大副，今晨自士麦拿经那不勒斯抵埠，中途曾停靠费拉约港。此人受缪拉之命送信与逆贼，并受逆贼之命送信与巴黎拿破仑党委员会。犯罪证据在将其逮捕时即可获得，该信件不是在其身上，就是在其父家中，或者在法老号上他的船舱里。’” 
“可是，”蕾妮说，“这必竟只是一封乱写的匿名信，况且又不是写给你的，这是写给检察官的。” 
“不错，检察官不在，他的秘书便受命拆开看了这封信。他认为这事很重要，遂派人来找我，又因找不到我。他就自己下了逮捕令，把那人抓了起来。” 
“这么说那个罪犯已被逮捕了，是吗？”侯爵夫人说。 
“这应该说是被告。”蕾妮说。 
“已经被捕了，”维尔福回答说，“正如我们刚才有幸向蕾妮小姐说过的那样，假如那封关键的信找到了，那个病人可就没救了。” 
“那个不幸的人在哪儿？”蕾妮问。 
“他在我们家里。” 
“快去吧，我的朋友，”侯爵夫人插进来说，“别因为和我们呆在一起而疏忽了你的职责。你是国王的臣仆，职务所在，不论哪儿都得去。” 
“噢，维尔福先生！”蕾妮紧握着他的双手喊道，“今天是我们订婚的日子，你可要对那人宽大一点啊！”那青年绕过桌子，走到那美丽的姑娘身边，靠在她的椅子上，温柔地说：“为了让您高兴，我亲爱的蕾妮，在我力所能及的范围内，我答应您尽量宽大些。但假如证据确凿的话，您就必须同意，我下命令把他杀头。” 
蕾妮一听到最后两个字便痉挛似的震颤了一下，把头转向了一边，好象她那温柔的天性受不了如此冷酷，说要把一个活生生的人杀掉似的。 
“别听那傻姑娘唠叨了，维尔福，”侯爵夫人说，“她不久就会听惯这些事情的。”说着，圣·梅朗夫人就把她那瘦骨嶙嶙的手伸给了维尔福，他一边吻，一边望着蕾妮，他的眼睛似乎在对她说，“我亲爱的此刻我吻的是您的手；或至少我希望如此。” 
“这些都是不祥之兆！”可怜的蕾妮叹息道。 
“说真的，孩子！”侯爵夫人愤愤地说，“你真是太傻，太孩子气了。我倒想知道，你这种讨厌的怪脾气和国家大事究竟有什么关系！” 
“啊，妈妈！”蕾妮低声埋怨地说。 
“夫人，我求您饶恕她这一次小小的错误吧，”维尔福说，“我答应您，我一定尽我的职责，对罪犯严惩不贷。”但当法官的维尔福在向侯爵夫人说这番话的时候，做情人的维尔福却向未婚妻丢了个眼色，他的目光说：“放心吧，蕾妮，为了您的爱，我会从宽处理的。”蕾妮以她最甜蜜的温柔的微笑回报了他那一眼，于是维尔福就满怀着无比幸福走了出去。 
Chapter 7 The Examination
 NO SOONER had Villefort left the salon, than he assumed the grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. Now, in spite of the mobility of his countenance, the command of which, like a finished actor, he had carefully studied before the glass, it was by no means easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. Except the recollection of the line of politics his father had adopted, and which might interfere, unless he acted with the greatest prudence, with his own career, Gérard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. Already rich, he held a high official situation, though only twenty-seven. He was about to marry a young and charming woman, whom he loved, not passionately, but reasonably, as became a deputy attorney of the king; and besides her personal attractions, which were very great, Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran's family possessed considerable political influence, which they would, of course, exert in his favor. The dowry of his wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns, and he had, besides, the prospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her father's death. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in its contemplation. At the door he met the commissary of police, who was waiting for him. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven to earth; he composed his face, as we have before described, and said, "I have read the letter, sir, and you have acted rightly in arresting this man; now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and the conspiracy." 
"We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy, monsieur; all the papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantès, mate on board the three-master the Pharaon, trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna, and belonging to Morrel & Son, of Marseilles." 
"Before he entered the merchant service, had he ever served in the marines?" 
"Oh, no, monsieur, he is very young." 
"How old?" 
"Nineteen or twenty at the most." 
At this moment, and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Rue des Conseils, a man, who seemed to have been waiting for him, approached; it was M. Morrel. 
"Ah, M. de Villefort," cried he, "I am delighted to see you. Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake--they have just arrested Edmond Dantès, mate of my vessel." 
"I know it, monsieur," replied Villefort, "and I am now going to examine him." 
"Oh," said Morrel, carried away by his friendship, "you do not know him, and I do. He is the most estimable, the most trustworthy creature in the world, and I will venture to say, there is not a better seaman in all the merchant service. Oh, M. de Villefort, I beseech your indulgence for him." 
Villefort, as we have seen, belonged to the aristocratic party at Marseilles, Morrel to the plebeian; the first was a royalist, the other suspected of Bonapartism. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel, and replied,-- 
"You are aware, monsieur, that a man may be estimable and trustworthy in private life, and the best seaman in the merchant service, and yet be, politically speaking, a great criminal. Is it not true?" 
The magistrate laid emphasis on these words, as if he wished to apply them to the owner himself, while his eyes seemed to plunge into the heart of one who, interceding for another, had himself need of indulgence. Morrel reddened, for his own conscience was not quite clear on politics; besides, what Dantès had told him of his interview with the grand-marshal, and what the emperor had said to him, embarrassed him. He replied, however,-- 
"I entreat you, M. de Villefort, be, as you always are, kind and equitable, and give him back to us soon." 
This give us sounded revolutionary in the deputy's ears. 
"Ah, ah," murmured he, "is Dantès then a member of some Carbonari society, that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was, if I recollect, arrested in a tavern, in company with a great many others." Then he added, "Monsieur, you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially, and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed to me in vain; should he, however, be guilty, in this present epoch, impunity would furnish a dangerous example, and I must do my duty." 
As he had now arrived at the door of his own house, which adjoined the Palais de Justice, he entered, after having, coldly saluted the shipowner, who stood, as if petrified, on the spot where Villefort had left him. The ante-chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes, in the midst of whom, carefully watched, but calm and smiling, stood the prisoner. Villefort traversed the ante-chamber, cast a side glance at Dantès, and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him, disappeared, saying, "Bring in the prisoner." 
Rapid as had been Villefort's glance, it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead, courage in the dark eye and bent brow, and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. Villefort's first impression was favorable; but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses, that he applied the maxim to the impression, forgetting the difference between the two words. He stifled, therefore, the feelings of compassion that were rising, composed his features, and sat down, grim and sombre, at his desk. An instant after Dantès entered. He was pale, but calm and collected, and saluting his judge with easy politeness, looked round for a seat, as if he had been in M. Morrel's salon. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort's look,--that look peculiar to the magistrate, who, while seeming to read the thoughts of others, betrays nothing of his own. 
"Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort, turning over a pile of papers, containing information relative to the prisoner, that a police agent had given to him on his entry, and that, already, in an hour's time, had swelled to voluminous proportions, thanks to the corrupt espionage of which "the accused" is always made the victim. 
"My name is Edmond Dantès," replied the young man calmly; "I am mate of the Pharaon, belonging to Messrs. Morrel & Son." 
"Your age?" continued Villefort. 
"Nineteen," returned Dantès. 
"What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" 
"I was at the festival of my marriage, monsieur," said the young man, his voice slightly tremulous, so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing; so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercédès. 
"You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the deputy, shuddering in spite of himself. 
"Yes, monsieur; I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years." Villefort, impassive as he was, was struck with this coincidence; and the tremulous voice of Dantès, surprised in the midst of his happiness, struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom--he also was on the point of being married, and he was summoned from his own happiness to destroy that of another. "This philosophic reflection," thought he, "will make a great sensation at M. de Saint-Méran's;" and he arranged mentally, while Dantès awaited further questions, the antithesis by which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. When this speech was arranged, Villefort turned to Dantès. 
"Go on, sir," said he. 
"What would you have me say?" 
"Give all the information in your power." 
"Tell me on which point you desire information, and I will tell all I know; only," added he, with a smile, "I warn you I know very little." 
"Have you served under the usurper?" 
"I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell." 
"It is reported your political opinions are extreme," said Villefort, who had never heard anything of the kind, but was not sorry to make this inquiry, as if it were an accusation. 
"My political opinions!" replied Dantès. "Alas, sir, I never had any opinions. I am hardly nineteen; I know nothing; I have no part to play. If I obtain the situation I desire, I shall owe it to M. Morrel. Thus all my opinions--I will not say public, but private--are confined to these three sentiment,--I love my father, I respect M. Morrel, and I adore Mercédès. This, sir, is all I can tell you, and you see how uninteresting it is." As Dantès spoke, Villefort gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance, and recollected the words of Renée, who, without knowing who the culprit was, had besought his indulgence for him. With the deputy's knowledge of crime and criminals, every word the young man uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. This lad, for he was scarcely a man,--simple, natural, eloquent with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought for; full of affection for everybody, because he was happy, and because happiness renders even the wicked good--extended his affection even to his judge, spite of Villefort's severe look and stern accent. Dantès seemed full of kindness. 
"Pardieu!" said Villefort, "he is a noble fellow. I hope I shall gain Renée's favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed on me. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public, and a sweet kiss in private." Full of this idea, Villefort's face became so joyous, that when he turned to Dantès, the latter, who had watched the change on his physiognomy, was smiling also. 
"Sir," said Villefort, "have you any enemies, at least, that you know." 
"I have enemies?" replied Dantès; "my position is not sufficiently elevated for that. As for my disposition, that is, perhaps, somewhat too hasty; but I have striven to repress it. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me, and if you question them, they will tell you that they love and respect me, not as a father, for I am too young, but as an elder brother." 
"But you may have excited jealousy. You are about to become captain at nineteen--an elevated post; you are about to marry a pretty girl, who loves you; and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one." 
"You are right; you know men better than I do, and what you say may possibly be the case, I confess; but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it, because then I should be forced to hate them." 
"You are wrong; you should always strive to see clearly around you. You seem a worthy young man; I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. Here is the paper; do you know the writing?" As he spoke, Villefort drew the letter from his pocket, and presented it to Dantès. Dantès read it. A cloud passed over his brow as he said,-- 
"No, monsieur, I do not know the writing, and yet it is tolerably plain. Whoever did it writes well. I am very fortunate," added he, looking gratefully at Villefort, "to be examined by such a man as you; for this envious person is a real enemy." And by the rapid glance that the young man's eyes shot forth, Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness. 
"Now," said the deputy, "answer me frankly, not as a prisoner to a judge, but as one man to another who takes an interest in him, what truth is there in the accusation contained in this anonymous letter?" And Villefort threw disdainfully on his desk the letter Dantès had just given back to him. 
"None at all. I will tell you the real facts. I swear by my honor as a sailor, by my love for Mercédès, by the life of my father"-- 
"Speak, monsieur," said Villefort. Then, internally, "If Renée could see me, I hope she would be satisfied, and would no longer call me a decapitator." 
"Well, when we quitted Naples, Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain fever. As we had no doctor on board, and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba, that he would not touch at any other port, his disorder rose to such a height, that at the end of the third day, feeling he was dying, he called me to him. 'My dear Dantès,' said he, 'swear to perform what I am going to tell you, for it is a matter of the deepest importance.' 
"'I swear, captain,' replied I. 
"'Well, as after my death the command devolves on you as mate, assume the command, and bear up for the Island of Elba, disembark at Porto-Ferrajo, ask for the grand-marshal, give him this letter--perhaps they will give you another letter, and charge you with a commission. You will accomplish what I was to have done, and derive all the honor and profit from it.' 
"'I will do it, captain; but perhaps I shall not be admitted to the grand marshal's presence as easily as you expect?' 
"'Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him, and remove every difficulty,' said the captain. At these words he gave me a ring. It was time--two hours after he was delirious; the next day he died." 
"And what did you do then?" 
"What I ought to have done, and what every one would have done in my place. Everywhere the last requests of a dying man are sacred; but with a sailor the last requests of his superior are commands. I sailed for the Island of Elba, where I arrived the next day; I ordered everybody to remain on board, and went on shore alone. As I had expected, I found some difficulty in obtaining access to the grand-marshal; but I sent the ring I had received from the captain to him, and was instantly admitted. He questioned me concerning Captain Leclere's death; and, as the latter had told me, gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. I undertook it because it was what my captain had bade me do. I landed here, regulated the affairs of the vessel, and hastened to visit my affianced bride, whom I found more lovely than ever. Thanks to M. Morrel, all the forms were got over; in a word I was, as I told you, at my marriage-feast; and I should have been married in an hour, and to-morrow I intended to start for Paris, had I not been arrested on this charge which you as well as I now see to be unjust." 
"Ah," said Villefort, "this seems to me the truth. If you have been culpable, it was imprudence, and this imprudence was in obedience to the orders of your captain. Give up this letter you have brought from Elba, and pass your word you will appear should you be required, and go and rejoin your friends. 
"I am free, then, sir?" cried Dantès joyfully. 
"Yes; but first give me this letter." 
"You have it already, for it was taken from me with some others which I see in that packet." 
"Stop a moment," said the deputy, as Dantès took his hat and gloves. "To whom is it addressed?" 
"To Monsieur Noirtier, Rue Coq-Héron, Paris." Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room, Villefort could not have been more stupefied. He sank into his seat, and hastily turning over the packet, drew forth the fatal letter, at which he glanced with an expression of terror. 
"M. Noirtier, Rue Coq-Héron, No. 13," murmured he, growing still paler. 
"Yes," said Dantès; "do you know him?" 
"No," replied Villefort; "a faithful servant of the king does not know conspirators." 
"It is a conspiracy, then?" asked Dantès, who after believing himself free, now began to feel a tenfold alarm. "I have, however, already told you, sir, I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter." 
"Yes; but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed," said Villefort. 
"I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it." 
"Have you shown this letter to any one?" asked Villefort, becoming still more pale. 
"To no one, on my honor." 
"Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from the Island of Elba, and addressed to M. Noirtier?" 
"Everybody, except the person who gave it to me." 
"And that was too much, far too much," murmured Villefort. Villefort's brow darkened more and more, his white lips and clinched teeth filled Dantès with apprehension. After reading the letter, Villefort covered his face with his hands. 
"Oh," said Dantès timidly, "what is the matter?" Villefort made no answer, but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds, and again perused the letter. 
"And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?" 
"I give you my word of honor, sir," said Dantès; "but what is the matter? You are ill--shall I ring for assistance?--shall I call?" 
"No," said Villefort, rising hastily; "stay where you are. It is for me to give orders here, and not you." 
"Monsieur," replied Dantès proudly, "it was only to summon assistance for you." 
"I want none; it was a temporary indisposition. Attend to yourself; answer me." Dantès waited, expecting a question, but in vain. Villefort fell back on his chair, passed his hand over his brow, moist with perspiration, and, for the third time, read the letter. 
"Oh, if he knows the contents of this!" murmured he, "and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort, I am lost!" And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts. 
"Oh, it is impossible to doubt it," cried he, suddenly. 
"In heaven's name!" cried the unhappy young man, "if you doubt me, question me; I will answer you." Villefort made a violent effort, and in a tone he strove to render firm,-- 
"Sir," said he, "I am no longer able, as I had hoped, to restore you immediately to liberty; before doing so, I must consult the trial justice; what my own feeling is you already know." 
"Oh, monsieur," cried Dantès, "you have been rather a friend than a judge." 
"Well, I must detain you some time longer, but I will strive to make it as short as possible. The principal charge against you is this letter, and you see"--Villefort approached the fire, cast it in, and waited until it was entirely consumed. 
"You see, I destroy it?" 
"Oh," exclaimed Dantès, "you are goodness itself." 
"Listen," continued Villefort; "you can now have confidence in me after what I have done." 
"Oh, command, and I will obey." 
"Listen; this is not a command, but advice I give you." 
"Speak, and I will follow your advice." 
"I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. Should any one else interrogate you, say to him what you have said to me, but do not breathe a word of this letter." 
"I promise." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat, and the prisoner who reassured him. 
"You see," continued he, glancing toward the grate, where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames, "the letter is destroyed; you and I alone know of its existence; should you, therefore, be questioned, deny all knowledge of it--deny it boldly, and you are saved." 
"Be satisfied; I will deny it." 
"It was the only letter you had?" 
"It was." 
"Swear it." 
"I swear it." 
Villefort rang. A police agent entered. Villefort whispered some words in his ear, to which the officer replied by a motion of his head. 
"Follow him," said Villefort to Dantès. Dantès saluted Villefort and retired. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself half-fainting into a chair. 
"Alas, alas," murmured he, "if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes. Oh, my father, must your past career always interfere with my successes?" Suddenly a light passed over his face, a smile played round his set mouth, and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. 
"This will do," said he, "and from this letter, which might have ruined me, I will make my fortune. Now to the work I have in hand." And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone, the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed.    
维尔福刚一进客厅，便收起了笑容，作出了一副手握生死大权者的庄严气派。他脸部的表情极富于变化，——这是他常常对着镜子训练出来的，因为一个职业演说家就应该是这样的表情，现在他得费点劲才能皱起他的眉头，装出一副庄严沉着的气派。维尔福唯一感到遗憾的就是他父亲的政治路线，如果不是他自己处事极端审慎，那过去的事情就会影响到他现在的事业，但除此之外，他可以说是享尽人间的幸福了。他很富有，虽然他仅仅只有２７岁，但已居高位，他快要和一个年青美丽的姑娘结婚，他爱她。并非出于热情，而是出于理智，是以一个代理检察官的态度爱她，他的未婚妻，不仅美丽而且还出身于最显赫的名门望族，她的父母膝下只有一个女儿，所以他们的政治势力可以全部用来培植他们的女婿。此外，她还可以给他带来一笔五万艾居的嫁奁，将来有一天大概还可以增加五十万遗产。这一切因素综合起来，使维尔福得到了无限的幸福，所以，当维尔福略一回省，静心默察自己内心世界的时候，他就好象自己眼花缭乱了起来。 
维尔福在门口遇了正在等候他的警官。一见到这位警长，他便从九天之外回到地面上来了，于是他的脸上马上摆出了一副道貌岸然的样子，说道，那“信我看过了，先生，您办得很对，应该把那个人逮起来。现在请你告诉我，你有没有搜有到有关他造反的材料？” 
“关于他造反的材料，先生，我们现在还无从知道，我得到的材料已经放到您的办公桌上了。犯人名子叫爱德蒙·唐太斯，是三桅大帆船法老号上的大副，那条船是从亚历山大和士麦拿装棉花来的，是马摩父子公司所有。” 
“他在从事航海这个工作以前，有没有在海军服过役呢？” 
“哦，没有，先生，他还很年轻。” 
“多大年纪？” 
“顶多还不过十九、二十岁。” 
这时，维尔福已经走到民康尼尔大街的拐角边处，有一个人似乎在那儿等他，那人走向前来，是莫雷尔先生。 
“哦，维尔福先生，”他喊道，“很高兴见到您！刚才发生了一个很令人不可思意的事情——您手下的人把我船上的大副，爱德蒙·唐太斯抓走了。” 
“这事我知道，先生，”维尔福回答，“我现在就是去审问的。” 
“噢，”莫雷尔说道，由于他对那个朋友友情甚笃，便急切地求起情来，“您不知道他，但我很了解他。他是世界上最善良、最正直的人了，我敢说，在整个商船界，再没有一个比他更好的船员了，维尔福先生，我真心诚意地向您担保！” 
正如我们已经知道维尔福是马赛上流社会中的人物，而莫雷尔只是一个平民，前者是一个保守党，而后者是一个拿破仑党的嫌疑犯。维尔福轻蔑地看着莫雷尔，冷冷地回答道。 
“你知道，阁下，一个人的私生活上也可能是可敬可靠的，可以是商船界里最好的船员，但从政治上讲，可能是一个罪大恶极的人，是不是？” 
代理法官这番话的语气很重，仿佛是冲着船主说的，而他那审视的眼光似乎直穿对方的心内，象是说，你竟敢为别人说人情，你应该知道你本人还需要宽大处理。莫雷尔的脸刷地红了，因为在政治方面，他的见解并不十分明朗；此外，唐太斯告诉过他的有关他谒见大元帅的事，以及皇上对他说的那番话更增加了他内心的不安，但他仍用深为关怀的语气说；“维尔福先生，我求您，您一向所做的事都是那样公正仁慈，早些把他送还给我们吧。” 
这“给我们”三个字在代理检察官听来很有些革命的味道。“哦，哦！”他思忖道“难道唐太斯是烧炭党［十九世纪初意大利的一个秘密政治组织，因经常装扮成烧炭人集会于树林，故称烧炭党。］分子，不然的话他的保护人要用这种态度来求情呢？我记得他是在一个酒店里被捕的，当时有许多人同他在一起，假如他是冤枉的，那你的求情一定不会落空的，但是如果他有罪，那也只能施以惩罚。否则在目前这个时期，有罪不惩可太危险了，我不得不行使我的职权。” 
这时，他已走到了自己的家门口，他的家就在法院隔壁，他态度冷淡地向船长行了个礼便进去了。那船主呆呆地立在维尔福离开他的地方，客厅里挤满了警察和宪兵，在他们中间，站着那个罪犯，他虽然被严加看管，却很镇定，而且还带着微笑。维尔福穿过客厅，瞥了唐太斯一眼，从一个宪兵手里接过一包东西，一边向里走，一边说：“把犯人带进来。” 
维尔福刚才那一瞥虽然急促，但对那个即将要审问的犯人却已经有了一个初步的看法，他已从他那饱满的前额上看出了他的聪慧，从那黑眼睛里和弯弯的眉毛看出了勇敢，从那半张着的，露出一排洁白的牙齿的厚嘴唇上看出了他的直率。 
维尔福的第一个印象很不错，但他也常常听人讲。切勿信任第一次的冲动，他把这句格言也用到印象上了，而且不顾这两者间的差别了，所以他抑住心头的怜悯感，板起脸来，在他的办公桌前座了下来，过了一会，唐太斯进来了，他的脸色也很苍白，但是很镇定，还是带着微笑，他从容有礼的向法官行了个礼，四下里看了看，象找个座位，好象他是在莫雷尔先生的客厅里似的，就在这时，当他的目光接触到维尔福的目光——那种法官所特有的目光，似乎象要看透嫌疑犯脑子里的罪恶思想似的。 
“你是干什么的？”维尔福一边问，一边翻阅着一堆文件，那里边有关于这个犯人的材料，就是他进来时那个宪兵给他的。 
“我叫爱德蒙·唐太斯，”青年镇定地回答说，“我是法老号船上的大副，那条船属于摩来尔父子公司所有。” 
“你的年龄”维尔福又问。“十九岁”唐太斯回答。 
“你被捕的时候在干什么？” 
“我是在请人吃喜酒，先生。”青年人说着，他的声音有点儿微微颤抖，刚才那个快乐的时刻与现在这种痛苦的经历对照起来，差别实在是太大了，而维尔福先生阴沉的脸色和唐太斯满脸红光对照起来，也实在是反差太大了。“你在请人吃喜酒？”代理检察官问道，不由自主地打了个寒噤。 
“是的，先生，我正要娶一位我爱了三年的姑娘。”维尔福虽然仍面不改色，但却为这个巧合吃了一惊。唐太斯颤抖的声音告诉他在他的胸膛里引起了一阵同情的共鸣。唐太斯是在他的幸福时刻被人召来的，而他自己也快要结婚了，他也是在自己的幸福时刻被人召来的，而他又是来破坏另一个人的幸福的。这种哲学上的相似之处，，在圣·梅朗侯爵家里倒是一个极好的话题，大谈而特谈一通。他这样想着，当唐太斯等待他往下问的时候，他起码在整理着他的思绪，他越想越觉得这是很好的对称话题，而演说家们往往用对称话题来获得雄辨之誉，当这篇演讲整理好之后，维尔福想到他可能产生的效果，不禁微笑了一下，然后他，转过来向唐太斯说“往下说，先生。” 
“您让我继续说些什么？” 
“把你知道的一切都讲出来。” 
“告诉我您要知道哪一方面的事情，这样我才可以把我所知道的一切都讲出来。”只是，他苦笑了一下，又说，“我得事先告诉您，我知道的很少。” 
“你有没有在逆贼手下服务过？” 
“我刚编入皇家海军的时候，他就倒台了。” 
“有人报告说，你政见很极端。”维尔福说，其实他根本没听说过这类事，但他偏要这么一提，就如同提出一项指控一样。 
“我的政见！我！”唐太斯问道，“唉，先生，我从来没有什么政见，我还没满１９岁，我什么都不知道，我起不了什么作用，假如我得到了我所希望的那个职位，应该归功莫雷尔先生，所以，我的全部见解——我不说政见，而只是私人见解——不出这三个范围：我亲爱的父亲，我尊敬的莫雷尔先生，我喜欢的美茜蒂丝。先生，这就是我所能告诉您的一切，您瞧，对这些事您不会感兴趣的。” 
唐太斯说话时，维尔福一直注视着他那温和而开朗的脸，耳边也似乎响起了蕾妮的话，蕾妮虽不认识这个嫌疑犯，但却替他求过情，请求他宽大处理，代理检察官根据案例和对犯人的审理来看，这个青年所说的每一字都愈来愈使他相信他是无辜的。这个孩子，——因为他还说不上是个成年人——单纯，自然说话时理直气壮充分显示出了他内心的坦然，他对每一个人都抱着好感，因为他很幸福。而即使在幸福产生了恶果的时候，他甚至还这般和蔼可亲，尽管维尔福装出一副可畏的目光和严厉的口吻。 
“没错，”维尔福心想，“他是一个可爱的小伙子！看来我不难讨好蕾妮了，完成她第一次请求我做的事，这样我可以在公开场合吻她的手，还可以私下里讨一个甜蜜的吻”脑子里充满了这种想法，维尔福的脸也变得开朗起来了，所以当他转向唐太斯的时候，后者也注意到他脸色的改变，也微笑起来。 
“先生”维尔福说，“你知不知道你有什么仇人吗？” 
“我有仇人？”唐太斯答道，“我的地位还不够那种资格。至于我自己的脾气，或许是有点急躁了，但我一直在努力地改正。我手下有十二三个水手，如果你问他们，他们会告诉您的，他们喜欢我尊敬我，把我看成是长兄一般，我不敢说敬我如父，因为我太年轻了。” 
“即使没有仇人，或许有人嫉妒你，你才１９岁就要做船长了——这对你来说算是一个很好的职位。你又要和一个爱你的姑娘结婚了，这两桩运气的事或许已引起另外一个人的嫉妒哩。” 
“您说的对。您对人们的了解比我深刻的多，我承认，您所说的这种事可能是存在的，但假如这些嫉妒的人是我的朋友，那我宁愿不知道他们，免得对他们产生仇恨。” 
“你错了，你应该随时尽可能地看清你周围的环境。你看来倒象是一个可敬的青年，我愿意破例帮你查出那个写这封信的发信人。信就在这儿，你认识这笔迹吗？”维尔福一边说一边从他的口袋里拿出了那封信，递给了唐太斯，唐太斯看完信。一片疑云浮上了他的眉头，他说；“不，先生，我不认识这笔迹，这是伪装过的，可是写的很流利。不管是谁写的，写这信的人很灵巧。”他感激地望着维尔福说：“我很幸运，能遇到象您这样的人来审问我。至于这个嫉妒我的人，倒真是个仇人。”从那青年人眼里射出来的急速的一瞥，维尔福看出来在温和的表面下蕴含着惊人的力量。 
“现在，”代理检察官说：“坦白的告诉我——不是一个犯人面对法官，而是一个受委屈的孩子面对关心他的人。——这封匿名的告发信里究竟有多少是实情？”于是，维尔福把唐太斯刚才还给他的那封信轻蔑地扔在了他的办公桌上。 
“没有一点儿是真的。我可以把实情告诉您。我以水手的名誉，以我对美塞苔丝的爱，以我父亲的生命向你发誓——” 
“说吧，先生，”维尔福说。然后，心想假如蕾妮看到我这个样子和场合，她一定很满意，一定不会再叫我刽子手了。 
“唔，我们离开那不勒斯以后，莱克勒船长就突然得到了脑膜炎。我们船上没有医生，而他又急于要到爱尔巴去，所以沿途没有停靠任何港口。他的脑子愈来愈不清楚了，在第三天，快要过去的时候，他知道自己快不行了，就叫我到他那儿去。‘我亲爱的唐太斯，’他说，‘我要你发誓完成我将要你做的这件事，因为这是一件非常重要的大事。’“‘我发誓，船长，’我回答说。 
“‘好，你是大副，我死后，这条船由你来指挥，把船驶向厄尔巴岛去，在费拉约岛靠岸，然后去找大元帅。把这封信交给他。也许他们会另外给你一封信，叫你当次信差。你一定要完成这本来应该是我去做的事，并享受它所带来的一切荣誉和利益。 
“‘我一定照办，船长，但也许我去见大元帅时不象您预期的那样顺利，万一不让我见到他呢？’“‘这儿有一只戒指拿着他求见，就不会有问题了，船长说完就给了我这只戒指，他交给我的正是时候，两个小时后，他就昏迷不醒，第二天，他就去世了。’” 
“你当时怎么办了？” 
“我做了我应该做的事，不论谁处在我的位置上，他都会那样做的，不论在那里，一个人快要死的时候，他的最后请求，都是神圣的，对一个水手来说，他的上司最后的请求就是命令。我向厄尔巴岛驶去，第二天就到了。我命令所有的人都留在船上，而我自己一个人上岸去了，不出我所料，我想见大元帅却遇到了一些麻烦，我把船长交给我的那个戒指拿了出来，元帅看过之后，马上就获准了。他问了一些关于莱克勒船长去世的事。而且，正如船长所说的的那样，大元帅给了我一封信，要我带去给一个住在巴黎的人。我接过了那封信，因为这是船长命令我这样做的事。我在此地靠岸，安排了船上的事，就赶快去看我的未婚妻了，我发现她更可爱，比以前更爱我了。但得谢谢莫雷尔先生，一切手续都在以前办好了，一句话，很顺利再就是我请人吃喜酒了。再过一个小时，我就已经结婚了，我本来是预备明天动身到巴黎去的，由于这次告密，我就被捕了，我看您现在和我一样，是很鄙视这次告密的。” 
“是的，”维尔福说，“看来这象是实事，既使你有错，也只能算是疏忽罪，而且即然是奉了你船长的命令，这种疏忽罪就不算什么了，你把从厄尔巴岛带来的这封信交给我们，记下你的话，然后回到你的朋友那里去吧，需要你的时候，你再来。” 
“那么，我是自由的了，先生？”唐太斯高兴地喊到。 
“是的，你得先把那封信给我。” 
“已经在您这儿了，他们已早从我身上把它搜去了，还有其它的信，我看到都在那包东西里面。 
“等一等，”正当唐太斯去拿他的帽子和手套时，代理法官叫住了他，那封信是写给谁的。” 
“是给诺瓦蒂埃先生的，地址是巴黎高海隆路。” 
即使是一个霹雷炸响，也未必能使他维尔福如此震惊，如此的意外，悴不及防，他倒在椅子里，匆忙地翻着他的口袋，带着恐怖的神色盯着它。 
“高海隆路１３号诺瓦蒂埃先生收。”他轻声地念着，脸色变的十分苍白。 
“是的，”唐太斯说，他也吃了一惊，，“难道您认识他吗？” 
“不，”维尔福急忙回答，‘国王忠实的奴仆是不认识叛匪的。’“那么说，这是个谋反案了吧？”唐太斯问，他本以为自己获得了自由，但现在比以前更加惊惶了，“但是，我已经对您说过，先生，我对信的内容，是一点也不知道的。” 
“不错，但你知道收信人的名子。”维尔福说。 
“我要去送信，就不得不知道那个人的地址。” 
“这封信你有没有给别人看过？”维尔福问，脸色变得越来越苍白了。 
“没有，我可以发誓。” 
“没有人知道你从厄尔巴岛带一封信给诺瓦蒂埃先生吗？” 
“除了给我这封信的人外，没有人知道！” 
“这就够了，”维尔福轻声地说，他的脸色越来越沉着，他这种神态使唐太斯满心疑惧。 
维尔福读完这封信，低下了头，并用双手遮住了他的脸。 
“噢，怎么回事？”唐太斯胆怯地问。维尔福没有回答，只是抬起头来嘘了一口气，又继续读那封信。 
“你能向我发誓，说绝对不知道这封信的内容吗？” 
“我向您发誓，先生，到底是怎么一回事？您是病了吧，我拉铃叫人来帮忙好吧？”唐太斯说。 
“不，你不要动，这儿发命令的是我，而不是你！”维尔福站起来说。 
“先生，我是叫人来照顾您，您好像是病了。” 
“不，我不需要，只是一时的不舒服罢了，还是当心儿你自己吧，别管我，回答我提出的问题！” 
但他什么也没有提，只是回到了椅子上，用手抹了一下他那大汗淋淋的额头，第三次读了那封信。“噢，如果他知道了内容，”他轻声地说，“那他就完了，而且知道诺瓦蒂埃就是维尔福的父亲，那我也就完了！”他用眼睛盯着爱德蒙，唐太斯好象要看穿他的心思似的。 
“哦，用不着再怀疑了，他肯定已经知道了一切。”他突然大声喊。 
“天哪，”那不幸的青年说，“假如您怀疑我，问我吧，我可以答应您的。” 
维尔福费了好大的劲，极力想使自己镇定下来，他说，“先生，这次审问的结果是你的罪名严重，我无法象刚才希望的那样立刻给你自由了。在做出这样的规定前，我必须先去同预审官商量一下，但我对你的态度如何，你是知道的。” 
“噢，先生，”唐太斯说，“您刚才待我象兄弟，是一个朋友，而不象是一个法官。” 
“那好，我要再耽搁你一会的时间，但我会尽可能使时间缩短，你主要的罪状是这封信，你看——”维尔福走近壁炉，把信投进了火里，直等到它完全烧荆“你看，我销毁了它。” 
“噢，您太公正了，简直是太好了。”唐太斯说道。 
“听着，你刚才看见我所做的事了吧，现在可以相信我了吧，信任我了吧！”维尔福对他说。 
“是的，请您吩咐我吧，我一定遵命。” 
“今晚之前，我得把你扣留在法院里，假如有谁来审问你，对于这封信你一定不要提。” 
“我答应。” 
现在看来倒好象是维尔福在求情，而犯人在安慰他了。你看，他说，“信是销毁了，只有你和我知道有这么一封信。所以，要是有人问到你，你就根本否认有这么一回事。” 
“放心，我一定否认的。” 
“你只有这一封信？” 
“是的。” 
“你发誓，” 
“我发誓！” 
维尔福拉响了铃，警长走进来，维尔福在他的耳边低声说了几句话，警长点点头会意。 
“跟他去吧。”维尔福对唐太斯说。唐太斯向维尔福感激地行了个礼，就走出去了。他身后的门还没有完全关上，维尔福已经精疲力尽了，他再也支持不住了，昏昏沉沉地躺在了一张椅子上。 
过了一会他喃喃地说：“啊，我的上帝，假如检察官此时在马赛，假如刚才不是叫我，而是找到了预审法官，那可就全完了，这封告发信，差点把我打入十八层地狱。噢，我的父亲，难道你过去的行为，将永远阻碍我的成功吗？”突然他的脸上掠过了一丝微笑，他那犹豫的眼光变得坚定了起来，他似乎全神贯注地在盘算着一个想法。 
“这个办法很好，”他说，“这封信本来就是使我完蛋的，它也许会使我飞黄腾达起来的。”他四周看了看，确信犯人已经离开以后，代理检察官就赶快向他新娘的家里走去了。
Chapter 9 The Evening of the Betrothal
 VILLEFORT HAD, as we have said, hastened back to Madame de Saint-Méran's in the Place du Grand Cours, and on entering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon. Renée was, with all the rest of the company, anxiously awaiting him, and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation. "Well, Decapitator, Guardian of the State, Royalist, Brutus, what is the matter?" said one. "Speak out." 
"Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked another. 
"Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. 
"Marquise," said Villefort, approaching his future mother-in-law, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private conversation?" 
"Ah, it is really a serious matter, then?" asked the marquis, remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. 
"So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days; so," added he, turning to Renée, "judge for yourself if it be not important." 
"You are going to leave us?" cried Renée, unable to hide her emotion at this unexpected announcement. 
"Alas," returned Villefort, "I must!" 
"Where, then, are you going?" asked the marquise. 
"That, madame, is an official secret; but if you have any commissions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there to-night, and will with pleasure undertake them." The guests looked at each other. 
"You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. 
"Yes, let us go to the library, please." The marquis took his arm, and they left the salon. 
"Well," asked he, as soon as they were by themselves, "tell me what it is?" 
"An affair of the greatest importance, that demands my immediate presence in Paris. Now, excuse the indiscretion, marquis, but have you any landed property?" 
"All my fortune is in the funds; seven or eight hundred thousand francs." 
"Then sell out--sell out, marquis, or you will lose it all." 
"But how can I sell out here?" 
"You have it broker, have you not?" 
"Yes." 
"Then give me a letter to him, and tell him to sell out without an instant's delay, perhaps even now I shall arrive too late." 
"The deuce you say!" replied the marquis, "let us lose no time, then!" 
And, sitting down, he wrote a letter to his broker, ordering him to sell out at the market price. 
"Now, then," said Villefort, placing the letter in his pocketbook, "I must have another!" 
"To whom?" 
"To the king." 
"To the king?" 
"Yes." 
"I dare not write to his majesty." 
"I do not ask you to write to his majesty, but ask M. de Salvieux to do so. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience; that would occasion a loss of precious time." 
"But address yourself to the keeper of the seals; he has the right of entry at the Tuileries, and can procure you audience at any hour of the day or night." 
"Doubtless; but there is no occasion to divide the honors of my discovery with him. The keeper would leave me in the background, and take all the glory to himself. I tell you, marquis, my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first, for the king will not forget the service I do him." 
"In that case go and get ready. I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter." "Be as quick as possible, I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour." 
"Tell your coachman to stop at the door." 
"You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renée, whom I leave on such a day with great regret." 
"You will find them both here, and can make your farewells in person." 
"A thousand thanks--and now for the letter." 
The marquis rang, a servant entered. 
"Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him." 
"Now, then, go," said the marquis. 
"I shall be gone only a few moments." 
Villefort hastily quitted the apartment, but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion, he resumed his ordinary pace. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. It was Mercédès, who, hearing no news of her lover, had come unobserved to inquire after him. 
As Villefort drew near, she advanced and stood before him. Dantès had spoken of Mercédès, and Villefort instantly recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, and when she inquired what had become of her lover, it seemed to him that she was the judge, and he the accused. 
"The young man you speak of," said Villefort abruptly, "is a great criminal. and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle." Mercédès burst into tears, and, as Villefort strove to pass her, again addressed him. 
"But, at least, tell me where he is, that I may know whether he is alive or dead," said she. 
"I do not know; he is no longer in my hands," replied Villefort. 
And desirous of putting an end to the interview, he pushed by her, and closed the door, as if to exclude the pain he felt. But remorse is not thus banished; like Virgil's wounded hero, he carried the arrow in his wound, and, arrived at the salon, Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob, and sank into a chair. 
Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. The man he sacrificed to his ambition, that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults, appeared to him pale and threatening, leading his affianced bride by the hand, and bringing with him remorse, not such as the ancients figured, furious and terrible, but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death. Then he had a moment's hesitation. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow, because they were guilty; at least, he believed so; but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge, but the executioner. As he thus reflected, he felt the sensation we have described, and which had hitherto been unknown to him, arise in his bosom, and fill him with vague apprehensions. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed, but Villefort's was one of those that never close, or if they do, only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. If at this moment the sweet voice of Renée had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy, or the fair Mercédès had entered and said, "In the name of God, I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband," his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release; but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber, and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet, who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness. 
Villefort rose, or rather sprang, from his chair, hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk, emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket, stood motionless an instant, his hand pressed to his head, muttered a few inarticulate sounds, and then, perceiving that his servant had placed his cloak on his shoulders, he sprang into the carriage, ordering the postilions to drive to M. de Saint-Méran's. The hapless Dantès was doomed. 
As the marquis had promised, Villefort found the marquise and Renée in waiting. He started when he saw Renée, for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantès. Alas, her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort's departure. 
She loved Villefort, and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband. Villefort knew not when he should return, and Renée, far from pleading for Dantès, hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. 
Meanwhile what of Mercédès? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge; she had returned to the Catalans, and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. Fernand, kneeling by her side, took her hand, and covered it with kisses that Mercédès did not even feel. She passed the night thus. The lamp went out for want of oil, but she paid no heed to the darkness, and dawn came, but she knew not that it was day. Grief had made her blind to all but one object--that was Edmond. 
"Ah, you are there," said she, at length, turning towards Fernand. 
"I have not quitted you since yesterday," returned Fernand sorrowfully. 
M. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. He had learned that Dantès had been taken to prison, and he had gone to all his friends, and the influential persons of the city; but the report was already in circulation that Dantès was arrested as a Bonapartist agent; and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible, he met with nothing but refusal, and had returned home in despair, declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. 
Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy, but instead of seeking, like M. Morrel, to aid Dantès, he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy, in the hope of drowning reflection. But he did not succeed, and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink, and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles, while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle--spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punch-drenched pages, like black, fantastic dust. 
Danglars alone was content and joyous--he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the ear, and an inkstand in place of a heart. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral, especially when, by taking it away, he could increase the sum total of his own desires. He went to bed at his usual hour, and slept in peace. 
Villefort, after having received M. de Salvieux' letter, embraced Renée, kissed the marquise's hand, and shaken that of the marquis, started for Paris along the Aix road. 
Old Dantès was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond. But we know very well what had become of Edmond.    
维尔福急匆匆赶回大高碌路，当他走进屋里的时候，发现他离开时的那些宾客已经移坐到客厅里了，蕾妮和那些人都在着急地等待他，他一进来，立刻受到大家的欢呼。 
“喂，专砍脑袋的人，国家的支柱，布鲁特斯［（公元前８５—４２）古罗马政治家］究竟是发生了什么事？”一个人问。 
“是不是新的恐怖时期又到了？”又一个人问。 
“是那个科西嘉魔鬼逃了出来？”第三个人问。” 
“侯爵夫人，”维尔福走到他未来的岳母跟前说，“我请您原谅我在这个时候离开您。侯爵阁下，请允许我私下里同您说几句话，好吗？” 
“呀，这事情十分重要吗？”侯爵问，他已经注意到维尔福满脸愁云。 
“严重到我不得不离开你们几天，所以，”他又转过身去向蕾妮说“是的，事情是否严重，您自己是可想而知的。” 
“您要离开我们了吗？”蕾妮掩饰不住她的情感，不禁地喊到。 
“唉，我也是身不由己。”维尔福答道。 
“那么，你要到那里去？”侯爵夫人问。 
“夫人，这是法院的秘密，但假如您在巴黎有什么事要办，我的一位朋友今晚上就上那儿去。”宾客们都不禁面面相觑。 
“你要同我单独谈话吗？”侯爵说。 
“是的，我们到您的书房里去吧。”侯爵挽起了他的手臂，同他一起走出客厅。 
“好啦。”他们一进书房，他就问，“告诉我吧，出了什么事？” 
“一件非常重要的事，所以，我不得不立刻到巴黎去一趟。 
现在，请原谅我不能泄露机密，侯爵，我大胆唐突问您一句，您的手里有没有国家证券？” 
“我的财产都买成公债了，——有六七十万法朗吧。” 
“那么，卖掉，赶快卖它们。” 
“呃，我在这儿怎么卖呢？” 
“您总有个代理人吧？” 
“有的。” 
“那么写一封信给我带去，告诉他赶快卖掉，一分一秒都不要耽误，或者我到那儿时已经晚了！” 
“见鬼。”侯爵说，“那么我们不要浪费时间了。” 
“于是他坐了下来，写了一封信给他的代理人，命令他不论什么价钱都要赶快卖掉他的证券。 
“唔，”现在，维尔福把信封夹进他的笔记本里，一面说，“再写一封信！’“写给谁？” 
“写给国王。” 
“我可不敢随便写信给国王。” 
“我不是要求您写信给国王，您叫萨欧伯爵写好了。我要一封能使我能尽快见到国王的信，无需经过那些繁杂的拜见手续，不然会丧失很多宝贵时间的。” 
“你自己去问掌玺大臣好了，他有进奏权，会设法让你朝见的。” 
“当然可以，不过，何必要把我发现的功劳让别人来分享呢。掌玺大臣会把我甩向一边。而他一个人独亨其功的，我告诉您，侯爵，假如我能第一个进入杜伊勒宫，我的前程就有保障了，因为，我这一次为国王所作的事，他永远也不会忘掉的。” 
“即然如此，那你就快准备吧，我会叫萨尔维欧给您写你所需要的那封信的。” 
“最好能赶快写，再过一刻钟我就要上路了。” 
“你叫马车在门口停一下吧。” 
“您代我向夫人和蕾妮小姐表示歉意吧，我今天就这样离开她们，的确是非常抱歉的。” 
“她们都会到我这里来，这些话，留着你自己去说吧。” 
“多谢，多谢。请赶快写信吧。“ 
侯爵拉了铃，一个仆人应声走进。 
“去，告诉萨尔维伯爵，就说我在这儿等着他。” 
“现在好了，你可以走了。”侯爵说。 
“好，我马上就回来！” 
维尔福匆匆地走出了侯爵府，忽然他又想到，假如有看见代理法官走路这样慌张，全城准会骚动起来，所以，他又恢复了他正常的恣态，官气十足地走去，在他的家门口，他看到了有一个人站在阴影里，看来好象是等候他的，那是美塞苔丝，她因为得不到爱人的消息，所以，跑来打听他了。 
当维尔福走过去的时候，她就迎上前来，唐太斯曾经提到过他的这位新娘，所以维尔福立刻就认出了她，她美丽和端庄的仪恣使他吃了一惊，当她问道她的情人的情形的时候，他觉的她象是法官，而他倒成了犯人了。 
“你所说的那个青年是一个罪人，”维尔福急忙说，“我没法帮助他的忙，小姐。”美茜塞苔再也忍不住她的眼泪了，当维尔福大步要走过她的时候，她又问道：“请您告诉我，他在什么地方，我想知道他究竟是死是活。” 
“我不知道，他已经不由我管了。”维尔福回答。 
他急于想结束这样的会面，所以就推开她，把门重重关上了，象是要把他的痛苦关到门外似的，但他内心的痛苦是无法这样被驱逐的，象维吉尔［（公元前７１—１９）古罗马人］所说的致命箭一样，受伤的人永远带着它。他走进去，关上门，一走到客厅，他就支持不住了，象呜咽似的，他长叹一声，倒进了一张椅子上。 
然后，在那颗受伤的心灵深处，又出现一个致命疮伤的最初征兆。那个由于他的野心而被他牺牲的人，那个代他父亲受过的无辜的牺牲者，又在他的眼前出现了，他脸色苍白，带着威胁的神气，一只手牵着未婚妻，她的脸色也是一样的苍白，这种形象使他深感内疚——不是古人所说的那种猛烈可怕的内疚，而是一种缓慢的，折磨人的，与日俱增直到死亡的痛苦。 
他犹豫了一会。他常常主张对犯人处以极刑，是靠了他那不可抗拒的雄辨把他们定罪的，他的眉头从来没有留下一点儿阴影，因为他们是有罪的——至少，他相信是如此，但现在这件事却完全不一样，他给一个清白无辜的判了无期徒刑——那是一个站在幸福之门无辜的人。这一次，他不是法官而是刽子手了。 
他以前从没有过的这种感觉，现在，当他怀着茫然的恐惧，犹如一个受伤的人用一只手指去接触到他的伤口时，会本能地颤抖起来一样。这一种感觉只有当伤口愈合以后，往往还会再次裂开，并且这一次裂开的伤口更加疼痛。他的耳边响起了蕾妮请求他从宽办理的甜蜜声音或是那美塞苔丝似乎又进来对他说，“看在上帝的份上，我求您把我的未婚夫还给我吧！”如果是这一种情形，那他就会不顾一切，用他那冰冷的手签署他的释放令。但没有声音来打破房间的沉寂，只有维尔福的仆人进来告诉他长途旅行的马车已经准备好了。 
维尔福站起来，或者更确切地说，象是一个战胜了一次内心斗争的人那样，从椅子上一跃而起，急忙打开他写字台的一个抽屉，把里面所有的金子都倒进他的口袋里，用手摸着头，一动也不动地站了一会，最后，他的仆人已把他的大氅披在了他的肩上，他这才出了门口，上了马车。吩咐车夫赶快到大高碌路侯爵府。 
不幸的唐太斯就这样被定了罪。 
正如侯爵所说的，维尔福看见侯爵夫人和蕾妮都在书房里。他看见蕾妮的时候，不由得吃了一惊，因为在他的想象中，她又要来为唐太斯求情了。唉，实际上她只想着维尔福即将离开她了。 
她爱维尔福，而他却要在成为她的丈夫的这一刻离开她而去了，也不知道他何时才能回来，所以蕾妮非但不为唐太斯求情，反而恨起这个人来了，就因为他的犯罪，她和他的爱人就得分离了。 
那么，美塞苔丝又怎么样了呢，？她在碌琪路的拐角上遇到了弗尔南多。她回到了迦太罗尼亚人村后，便绝望地躺在了床上。弗尔南多跪在了她的身边，拿起了她的手，吻遍了它。但美塞苔丝已毫无了感觉，那一夜她就是这样过来的，灯油燃尽了，但她并没觉得黑暗，她也没有注意到它的光明，悲哀蒙住了她的双眼，她只能看到一样东西，那就是唐太斯。 
“啊，你在这儿，”她终于意识到了他的存在。 
“从昨天起我就在这儿，就没有离开过您。”弗尔南多痛苦地说。 
莫雷尔先生，就没有放弃过努力。他打听到唐太斯已经被投入了监狱，就去找他认识的所有的朋友和城里那些有钱有势的朋友，但城里的风声已经传开，说唐太斯是被当做拿破仑党的密使而被捕的，而且当时再大胆量的人也认为拿破仑东山再起是狂妄之举，因此，莫雷尔先生也四处遭到拒绝，只能是失望的回家。 
卡德鲁斯也感到了不安，但是他没有想办法去救唐太斯，只是带了一瓶酒把自己关在房子里，想用酒来忘掉他的回忆。 
可是他没有做到这一点，他已醉的腿都抬不动了，但他却忘不掉那可怕的往事。 
只有腾格拉尔一个人一点都不觉得烦恼或不安，他甚至还很高兴——他认为自己已除掉了一块绊脚石，并保全了他在法老号上的地位。腾格拉尔是一个一心只为自己打算的人，这种人生下来耳朵上就夹了一支笔，心眼里头放着一瓶墨水，在他看来，一切都是加减乘除而已，在他看来，一个人的生命还不如一个数字宝贵，因为数字使他有所增加，而生命却只会渐渐消亡。 
维尔福接过了萨尔维欧先生写的信以后，就拥抱了一下蕾妮，吻了吻侯爵夫人的手，和侯爵握手告别，起程前往巴黎去了。 
唐太斯的老父亲正在被悲哀和焦急煎熬着。
Chapter 11 The Corsican Ogre
AT THE SIGHT of this agitation Louis XVIII pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting. 
"What ails you, baron?" he exclaimed. "You appear quite aghast. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. de Blacas has told me, and M. de Villefort has just confirmed?" M. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron, but the fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the statesman; and besides, as matters were, it was much more to his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over him than that he should humiliate the prefect. 
"Sire"--stammered the baron. 
"Well, what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. The minister of police, giving way to an impulse of despair, was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII., who retreated a step and frowned. 
"Will you speak?" he said. 
"Oh, sire, what a dreadful misfortune! I am, indeed, to be pitied. I can never forgive myself!" 
"Monsieur," said Louis XVIII, "I command you to speak." 
"Well, sire, the usurper left Elba on the 26th February, and landed on the 1st of March." 
"And where? In Italy?" asked the king eagerly. 
"In France, sire,--at a small port, near Antibes, in the Gulf of Juan." "The usurper landed in France, near Antibes, in the Gulf of Juan, two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris, on the 1st of March, and you only acquired this information to-day, the 4th of March! Well, sir, what you tell me is impossible. You must have received a false report, or you have gone mad." 
"Alas, sire, it is but too true!" Louis made a gesture of indescribable anger and alarm, and then drew himself up as if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in heart and countenance. 
"In France!" he cried, "the usurper in France! Then they did not watch over this man. Who knows? they were, perhaps, in league with him." 
"Oh, sire," exclaimed the Duc de Blacas, "M. Dandré is not a man to be accused of treason! Sire, we have all been blind, and the minister of police has shared the general blindness, that is all." 
"But"--said Villefort, and then suddenly checking himself, he was silent; then he continued, "Your pardon, sire," he said, bowing, "my zeal carried me away. Will your majesty deign to excuse me?" 
"Speak, sir, speak boldly," replied Louis. "You alone forewarned us of the evil; now try and aid us with the remedy." 
"Sire," said Villefort, "the usurper is detested in the south; and it seems to me that if he ventured into the south, it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence against him." 
"Yes, assuredly," replied the minister; "but he is advancing by Gap and Sisteron." 
"Advancing--he is advancing!" said Louis XVIII. "Is he then advancing on Paris?" The minister of police maintained a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. 
"And Dauphiné, sir?" inquired the king, of Villefort. "Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" 
"Sire, I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact; but the feeling in Dauphiné is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc. The mountaineers are Bonapartists, sire." 
"Then," murmured Louis, "he was well informed. And how many men had he with him?" 
"I do not know, sire," answered the minister of police. 
"What, you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence," he added, with a withering smile. 
"Sire, it was impossible to learn; the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper." 
"And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king. The minister bowed his head, and while a deep color overspread his cheeks, he stammered out,-- 
"By the telegraph, sire."--Louis XVIII. advanced a step, and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. 
"So then," he exclaimed, turning pale with anger, "seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five-and-twenty years of exile. I have, during those five-and-twenty years, spared no pains to understand the people of France and the interests which were confided to me; and now, when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach, the power I hold in my hands bursts, and shatters me to atoms!" 
"Sire, it is fatality!" murmured the minister, feeling that the pressure of circumstances, however light a thing to destiny, was too much for any human strength to endure. 
"What our enemies say of us is then true. We have learnt nothing, forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was, I would console myself; but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor, who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves,--for my fortune is theirs--before me they were nothing--after me they will be nothing, and perish miserably from incapacity--ineptitude! Oh, yes, sir, you are right--it is fatality!" 
The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. M. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. Villefort smiled within himself, for he felt his increased importance. 
"To fall," continued King Louis, who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended,--"to fall, and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh, I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother, Louis XVI., than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. Ridicule, sir--why, you know not its power in France, and yet you ought to know it!" 
"Sire, sire," murmured the minister, "for pity's"-- 
"Approach, M. de Villefort," resumed the king, addressing the young man, who, motionless and breathless, was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom. "Approach, and tell monsieur that it is possible to know beforehand all that he has not known." 
"Sire, it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world." 
"Really impossible! Yes--that is a great word, sir. Unfortunately, there are great words, as there are great men; I have measured them. Really impossible for a minister who has an office, agents, spies, and fifteen hundred thousand francs for secret service money, to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well, then, see, here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal--a gentleman, only a simple magistrate, who learned more than you with all your police, and who would have saved my crown, if, like you, he had the power of directing a telegraph." The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort, who bent his head in modest triumph. 
"I do not mean that for you, Blacas," continued Louis XVIII.; "for if you have discovered nothing, at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. de Villefort insignificant, or else dictated by venal ambition," These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before. 
Villefort understood the king's intent. Any other person would, perhaps, have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise; but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister, although he saw that Dandré was irrevocably lost. In fact, the minister, who, in the plenitude of his power, had been unable to unearth Napoleon's secret, might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantès and so lay bare the motives of Villefort's plot. Realizing this, Villefort came to the rescue of the crest-fallen minister, instead of aiding to crush him. 
"Sire," said Villefort, "the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence; what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance, and I have profited by that chance, like a good and devoted servant--that's all. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve, sire, that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me." The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look, and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design; that is to say, that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king, he had made a friend of one on whom, in case of necessity, he might rely. 
"'Tis well," resumed the king. "And now, gentlemen," he continued, turning towards M. de Blacas and the minister of police, "I have no further occasion for you, and you may retire; what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war." 
"Fortunately, sire," said M. de Blacas, "we can rely on the army; your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment." 
"Do not mention reports, duke, to me, for I know now what confidence to place in them. Yet, speaking of reports, baron, what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" 
"The affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques!" exclaimed Villefort, unable to repress an exclamation. Then, suddenly pausing, he added, "Your pardon, sire, but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget, not the respect I have, for that is too deeply engraved in my heart, but the rules of etiquette." 
"Go on, go on, sir," replied the king; "you have to-day earned the right to make inquiries here." 
"Sire," interposed the minister of police, "I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head, when your majesty's attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf, and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty." 
"On the contrary, sir,--on the contrary," said Louis XVIII., "this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention, and the death of General Quesnel will, perhaps, put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy." At the name of General Quesnel, Villefort trembled. 
"Everything points to the conclusion, sire," said the minister of police, "that death was not the result of suicide, as we first believed, but of assassination. General Quesnel, it appears, had just left a Bonapartist club when he disappeared. An unknown person had been with him that morning, and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint-Jacques; unfortunately, the general's valet, who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered, heard the street mentioned, but did not catch the number." As the police minister related this to the king, Villefort, who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips, turned alternately red and pale. The king looked towards him. 
"Do you not think with me, M. de Villefort, that General Quesnel, whom they believed attached to the usurper, but who was really entirely devoted to me, has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?" 
"It is probable, sire," replied Villefort. "But is this all that is known?" 
"They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him." 
"On his track?" said Villefort. 
"Yes, the servant has given his description. He is a man of from fifty to fifty-two years of age, dark, with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows, and a thick mustache. He was dressed in a blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the chin, and wore at his button-hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed, but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq-Héron." Villefort leaned on the back of an arm-chair, for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him; but when he learned that the unknown had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him, he breathed again. 
"Continue to seek for this man, sir," said the king to the minister of police; "for if, as I am all but convinced, General Quesnel, who would have been so useful to us at this moment, has been murdered, his assassins, Bonapartists or not, shall be cruelly punished." It required all Villefort's coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him. 
"How strange," continued the king, with some asperity; "the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say, 'A murder has been committed,' and especially so when they can add, 'And we are on the track of the guilty persons.'" 
"Sire, your majesty will, I trust, be amply satisfied on this point at least." 
"We shall see. I will no longer detain you, M. de Villefort, for you must be fatigued after so long a journey; go and rest. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. 
"No, sire," he replied, "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid, in the Rue de Tournon." 
"But you have seen him?" 
"Sire, I went straight to the Duc de Blacas." 
"But you will see him, then?" 
"I think not, sire." 
"Ah, I forgot," said Louis, smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive; "I forgot you and M. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible, and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause, and for which you should be recompensed." 
"Sire, the kindness your majesty deigns to evince towards me is a recompense which so far surpasses my utmost ambition that I have nothing more to ask for." 
"Never mind, sir, we will not forget you; make your mind easy. In the meanwhile" (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat, near the cross of St. Louis, above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. Lazare, and gave it to Villefort)--"in the meanwhile take this cross." 
"Sire," said Villefort, "your majesty mistakes; this is an officer's cross." 
"Ma foi," said Louis XVIII., "take it, such as it is, for I have not the time to procure you another. Blacas, let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. de Villefort." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride; he took the cross and kissed it. 
"And now," he said, "may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?" 
"Take what rest you require, and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris, you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles." 
"Sire," replied Villefort, bowing, "in an hour I shall have quitted Paris." 
"Go, sir," said the king; "and should I forget you (kings' memories are short), do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection. Baron, send for the minister of war. Blacas, remain." 
"Ah, sir," said the minister of police to Villefort, as they left the Tuileries, "you entered by luck's door--your fortune is made." 
"Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort, saluting the minister, whose career was ended, and looking about him for a hackney-coach. One passed at the moment, which he hailed; he gave his address to the driver, and springing in, threw himself on the seat, and gave loose to dreams of ambition. 
Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel, ordered horses to be ready in two hours, and asked to have his breakfast brought to him. He was about to begin his repast when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud. The valet opened the door, and Villefort heard some one speak his name. 
"Who could know that I was here already?" said the young man. The valet entered. 
"Well," said Villefort, "what is it?--Who rang?--Who asked for me?" 
"A stranger who will not send in his name." 
"A stranger who will not send in his name! What can he want with me?" 
"He wishes to speak to you." 
"To me?" 
"Yes." 
"Did he mention my name?" 
"Yes." 
"What sort of person is he?" 
"Why, sir, a man of about fifty." 
"Short or tall?" 
"About your own height, sir." 
"Dark or fair?" 
"Dark,--very dark; with black eyes, black hair, black eyebrows." 
"And how dressed?" asked Villefort quickly. 
"In a blue frock-coat, buttoned up close, decorated with the Legion of Honor." 
"It is he!" said Villefort, turning pale. 
"Eh, " said the individual whose description we have twice given, entering the door, "what a great deal of ceremony! Is it the custom in Marseilles for sons to keep their fathers waiting in their anterooms?" 
"Father!" cried Villefort, "then I was not deceived; I felt sure it must be you." 
"Well, then, if you felt so sure," replied the new-comer, putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair, "allow me to say, my dear Gérard, that it was not very filial of you to keep me waiting at the door." 
"Leave us, Germain," said Villefort. The servant quitted the apartment with evident signs of astonishment. 
看到这种神色慌张的样子，路易十八就猛地推开了那张他正在写字的桌子。 
“出什么事了，男爵先生？”他惊讶地问，“看来你好象是一副大难临头的样子，你这惊慌犹豫的样子，是否与刚才勃拉卡斯先生又加以证实的事有关？” 
勃拉卡斯公爵赶紧向男爵走去，那大臣的惊慌的神色完全吓退了这位元老的得意心情，说实在的，在这种情况下，如果是警务大臣战胜了他，实在是比使大臣受到羞辱对他有利得多。 
“陛下，”——男爵嚅嚅地说。 
“什么事？”路易十八问。那绝望几乎压倒了警务大臣，几乎是扑到了国王的脚下，后者不由得倒退了几步，并皱起了眉头。 
“请您快说呀。”他说。 
“噢，陛下，灾难降临了，我真该死，我永远也不能饶恕我自己！” 
“先生我命令你快说。”路易十八说道。 
“陛下，逆贼已在二月十八日离开了厄尔巴岛，三月一日登陆了。” 
“在那儿？——在意大利吗？”国王问。 
“在法国，陛下，昂蒂布附近一个小巷口的琪恩湾那儿。” 
“那逆贼于三月一日在离巴黎七百五十哩的琪恩湾昂布附近登陆，而今天都三月四日了你才得到消息！哦，先生，你告诉我的事是难以叫人想象的，如果不是你得到了一份假情报，那么你就是发疯了。” 
“唉，陛下，这事千真万确！” 
国王做了一个难以形容的，愤怒和惊惶的动作，然后猛地一下子挺直并站了起来，象是这个突然的打击同时击中了他的脸和心一样。“在法国，”他喊到，“这个逆贼已经到了法国了！这么说，他们没有看住这个人，谁知道？或许他们是和他串通的！” 
“噢，陛下！”勃拉卡斯公爵惊喊到，这事决不该怪罪唐德雷说他不忠。陛下，我们都瞎了眼，警务大臣也同大家一样仅此而已。” 
“但是，”——维尔福刚刚说了两个字，便又突然停住了。 
“请您原谅，陛下，”他一面说一面欠了一下身子，我的忠诚已使我无法自制了。望陛下宽恕。” 
“说吧，先生，大胆地说吧，”国王说道。“看来只有你一个人把这个坏消息及早告诉了我们，现在请你帮助我们找到什么补救的办法！” 
“陛下，”维尔福说：“逆贼在南方是遭人憎恨的，假如他想在那儿冒险，我们就很容易发动郎格多克和普罗旺斯两省的民众起来反对他。” 
“那是当然”，大臣说道，只不过是顺着加普和锡斯特龙挺进。 
“挺进，他在挺进！”路易十八说。“这么说他是在向巴黎挺进了吗？” 
警务大臣一声不响了，这无疑是一种默认。 
“陀菲内省呢，先生？”国王问维尔福，“你觉得我们也可能象在普罗旺斯省那样去做吗？” 
“陛下，我很抱歉不得不禀告陛下一个严酷的事实，陀菲内的民情远不如普罗旺斯或朗格多克。那些山民都是拿破仑党分子，陛下。” 
“那么，路易十八喃喃地说，“他的情报倒很正确了，他带了多少人？” 
“我不知道。陛下。警务大臣说。 
“什么！你不知道，你没去打听打听这方面的消息？是啊，这件事没什么了不起，”他说着苦笑了一下。 
“陛下，这是没法知道的，快报上只提到了登陆和逆贼所走的路线。” 
“你这个快报是怎么来的？” 
大臣低下了头，涨红了脸，他喃喃地说，“快报是投递站接力送来的，陛下。” 
路易十八向前跨了一步，象拿破仑那样交叉起双臂。“哦，这么说七国联军推翻了那个人，在我经过了二十五年的流亡以后，上天显出奇迹，又把我送到了我父亲的宝座上。在这二十五年中，我研究，探索，分析我的国家和人民和事物，而今正当我全部心愿就要实现的时候，我手里的权力却爆炸了，把我炸得粉碎！” 
“陛下这是劫数！”大臣轻声地说，他觉得这样的一种压力，在命运之神看来不论多么微不足道，却已经能够压跨一个人了。 
“那么，我们的敌人抨击我们说的话没错了，什么都没有学到，什么都不会忘记！假如我也象他那样为国家所共弃，那我倒可以自慰，既然是大家推荐我为尊，他们大家就应该爱护我胜过爱护他们自己才是。因为我的荣辱也就是他们的荣辱，在我继位之前，他们是一无所有的，在我逊位之后，他们也将一无所有，我竟会因他们的愚昧和无能而自取灭亡！噢，是的，先生，你说的不错——这是劫数！” 
在这一番冷嘲热讽之下，大臣一直躬着腰，不敢抬头。勃拉卡斯德公爵一个劲地擦着他头上的冷汗。只有维尔福暗自得意，因为他觉得他越发显得重要了。 
“亡国！”国王路易又说，他一眼就看出了国王将要坠入的深渊——。“亡国，从快报上才知道亡国的消息！噢，我情愿踏上我哥哥路易十六的断头台而不愿意这样丑态百出地被人赶下杜伊勒宫的楼梯。笑话呀，你为什么不知道他在法国的力量，而这原是你应该知道的！” 
“陛下，陛下，”大臣咕哝地说，“陛下开恩——” 
“请您过来，维尔福先生，”国王又对那青年说道，后者一动也不动，屏住了呼吸，倾听一场关系到一个国王的命运的谈话，——“来来，告诉大臣先生，他所不知道的一切，别人却能事先知道。” 
“陛下，那个人一手遮盖住了天下人的耳目，谁也无法事先知道这个计划。” 
“无法知道，这是多么伟大的字眼，不幸的是我已经都知道了，天下确实有伟大的字眼，先生，一位大臣他手里有庞大的机关，有警察，有秘探，有一百五十万法朗的秘密活动经费，竟无法说出离法国一百八十里以外的情况。难道真的无法知道，那么，看看吧，这儿有一位先生，他的手下并没有这些条件，只是一个法官，可他却比你和所有警务都知道的多。假如，他象你那样有权指挥快报机构的话，他早就可以帮我保住这顶皇冠啦。” 
警务大臣的眼光都转到维尔福身上，神色中带着仇恨，后者却带着胜利的谦逊低下了头。 
“我并没有在说您，勃拉卡斯，”路易十八继续说道，“因为算是您没有发现什么，但至少您很明达，曾坚持您的怀疑，要是换了个人，就会认为维尔福先生的发现是无足轻重的，或他只是想贪功邀赏罢了。” 
这些话是射向警务大臣一小时前带着极为自信的口气所发的那番议论的，维尔福很明白国王讲话的意图。要是换了别人，也许被这一番赞誉所陶醉，而忘乎所以了，但他怕自己会成为警务大臣的死敌，他已看出大臣的失败是无可挽回的了。 
事情也确实如此，这位大臣的权力在握的时候虽不能揭穿拿破仑的秘密，但在他垂死挣扎之际，却可能揭穿他的秘密，因为他只要问一问唐太斯便一切都明白了，所以维尔福不得不落井下石，反而来帮他一把了。 
“陛下，”维尔福说，事态变化之迅速足以向陛下证明：只有上帝掀起一阵风暴才能把它止祝陛下誉臣有先见之明，实际上我纯粹是出于偶然，我只不过象一个忠心的臣仆那样抓住了这个偶然的机会而已。陛下，请不要对我过奖了，否则，我将来恐怕再无机会来附和您的好意了。” 
警务大臣向这位青年人投去了感激的一瞥，维尔福明白他的计划已经成功了，也就是说他既没有损害了国王的感激之情，又新交上了一个朋友，必要时，也许可以依靠他呢。 
“那也好，”国王又开始说道，“先生们，”他转过向勃拉卡斯公爵和警务大臣说道，“我对你们没有什么可以谈的了，你们可以退下了。剩下的事必须由陆军部来办理了。” 
“幸亏，陛下，”勃拉卡斯说，“我们可以信赖陆军，陛下知道。所有的报告都证实他们是忠心耿耿的。” 
“先生，别再向我提起报告了！我现在已经知道可以信赖他们的程度了，可是，说到报告，男爵阁下，你知道有关圣·杰克司事件的消息吗？” 
“圣·杰克司街的事件！”维尔福禁不住惊叫了一声。然后，又急忙换了口气说，“请您原谅，陛下，我对陛下的忠诚使我忘记了——倒不是忘记了对您的尊敬，而是一时忘记了礼仪。” 
“请随意一些，先生！”国王答道，“今天你有提出问题的权利。” 
“陛下，”警务大臣回答道，“我刚才就是来向陛下报告有关这方面的最新消息的，碰巧陛下的注意力都集中到那件可怕的大事上去了，现在陛下恐怕不会再感兴趣了吧。” 
“恰恰相反，先生，恰恰相反，”路易十八说，“依我看和刚才我们所关心的事一定有关系，奎斯奈尔将军之死或许会引起一次内部的大叛乱。” 
维尔福听到奎斯奈尔将军的名字不禁颤粟了一下。 
“陛下，”警务大臣说，“事实上，一切证据都说明这他的死，并不象我们以前所相信的那样是自杀，而是一次谋杀。好象是奎斯奈尔将军在离开一个拿破仑党俱乐部的时候失踪的。那天早晨，曾有人和他在一起，并约他在圣·杰克司街相会，不幸的是当那个陌生人进来的时候，将军的贴身保镖正在梳头，他只听到了街名，没听清门牌号码。” 
当警务大臣向国王讲述这件事的时候，维尔福全神贯注地听着，脸上一阵红一阵白，好象他的整个生命都维系于这番话上似的。国王把目光转到了他的身上。 
“维尔福先生，人们都以为这位奎斯奈尔将军是追随逆贼的，但实际上他却是完全忠心于我的，我觉得他是拿破仑党所设的一次圈套的牺牲品，你是否与我有同感？” 
“这是可能的，陛下，”维尔福回答。“但现在只知道这些吗？” 
“他们已经在跟踪那个和他约会的人了。” 
“已经跟踪他了吗？”维尔福说。 
“是的，仆人已把他的外貌描绘了出来。他是一个年约五十一二岁的人，棕褐色皮肤，蓬松的眉毛底下有一双黑色的眼睛，胡子又长又密。他身穿蓝色披风，钮孔上挂着荣誉团军官的玫瑰花形徽章。昨天跟踪到一个人，他的外貌和以上所描过的完全相符，但那人到裘森尼街和高海隆路的拐角上便突然不见了。” 
维尔福将身子靠在了椅背上，因为警务大臣在讲述的时候，他直觉得两腿发软，当他听到那人摆脱了跟踪他的密探的时候，他才松了一口气。 
“继续追踪这个人，先生，”国王对警务大臣说，“奎斯尔将军目前对我们非常有用，从各方面看来，我相信他是被谋杀的，假如果真如此，那么暗杀他的凶手，不论是否是拿破仑党，都该从严惩处。” 
国王讲这些话的，维尔福在极力使自己镇定下来，以免露出恐怖的神色。 
“多妙呀！”国王用很尖酸的语气继续说道。“当警务部说‘又发生了一起谋杀案’的时候，尤其是，当他们又加上一句‘我们已经在追踪凶手’的时候，他们就以为一切就都已了结。” 
“陛下，我相信陛下对此已经满意了。” 
“等着瞧吧。我不再耽搁你了，男爵。维尔福先生，你经过这次长途旅程，一定很疲乏了，回去休息吧。你大概是下塌在你父亲那儿吧？” 
维尔福感到微微有点昏眩。“不，陛下，”他答道，“我下塌在导农街的马德里饭店里。” 
“你去见过他了吗？” 
“陛下，我刚到就去找勃拉卡斯公爵先生了。” 
“但你总得去见他吧？” 
“我不想去见他，陛下。” 
“呀，我忘啦，”路易十八说道，随即微笑了一下，借以表示这一切问题是没有任何意图的，“我忘记了你和诺瓦莱埃先生的关系并不太好，这又是效忠王室而作出的一次牺牲，为了两次牺牲你该得到报偿。” 
“陛下，陛下对我的仁慈已超过了我所希望的最高报偿，我已别无所求了。” 
“那算什么，先生，我们是不会忘记你的，你放心好了。现在（说到这里，国王将他佩戴在蓝色上衣上的荣誉勋章摘了下来，递给了维尔福，这枚勋章原先戴在他的圣·路易十字勋章的旁边。圣·拉柴勋章之上的）——现在暂时先接受这个勋章吧。” 
“陛下，”维尔福说，“陛下搞错了，这种勋章是军人佩戴的。” 
“是啊！”路易十八说，“拿着吧，就算这样吧，因为我来不及给你弄个别的了。勃拉卡斯，您记得把荣誉勋位证书发给维尔福先生。” 
维尔福的眼睛里充满了喜悦和得意的泪水。他接过勋章在上面吻了一下。“现在，”他说，“我能问一下：陛下还有什么命令赐我去执行吗？” 
“你需要休息，先休息去吧，要记住，你虽然不能在巴黎这儿为我服务，但你在马赛对我也是很有用处呢。” 
“陛下，”维尔福一面鞠躬，一面回答，“我在一个钟头之内就要离开巴黎了。” 
“去吧，先生，”国王说，“假如我忘了你（国王记忆力都不强），就设法使我想起你来，不用怕。男爵先生，去叫军政大臣来。勃拉卡斯，你留在这儿。” 
“啊，先生，”在他们离开杜伊勒里宫的时候，警务部长对维尔福说，“您走的门路不错，您的前程远大！”“谁知道能否真的前程远大？”维尔福心里这样思忖着，一面向大臣致敬告别，他的任务已经完成了，他环顾四周寻找出租的马车。这时正巧有一辆从眼前经过，他便喊住了它，告诉了地址，然后跳到车里，躺在座位上，做起野心梦来了。 
十分钟之后，维尔福到了他的旅馆，他吩咐马车两小时后来接他，并吩咐把早餐给他拿来。他正要进餐时，门铃有了，听那铃声，便知道这人果断有力。仆人打开了门，维尔福听到来客提到了他的名字。 
“谁会知道我在这儿呢？”青年自问道。 
仆人走进来。 
“咦，”维尔福说，“什么事？谁拉铃？谁要见我？” 
“一个陌生人，他不愿意说出他的姓名。” 
“一个不愿意说出姓名的陌生人，他想干什么？” 
“他想同您说话。” 
“同我。” 
“是的。” 
“他有没有说出我的名字？” 
“说了。” 
“他是个什么样的人。” 
“唔，先生，是一个五十岁左右的人。” 
“个头是高是矮？” 
“跟您差不多，先生。” 
“头发是黑的还是黄的？” 
“黑，——黑极了，黑眼睛，黑头发，黑眉毛。” 
“穿什么衣服？”维尔福急忙问。 
“穿一件蓝色的披风，排胸扣的，还挂着荣誉勋章。” 
“是他！”维尔福说道，脸色变得苍白。 
“呃，一点不错！”我们已描绘过两次外貌的那个人走进门来说，“规矩还不少哪！儿子叫他父亲候在外客厅里，这可是马赛的规矩吗？” 
“父亲！”维尔福喊道，“我没弄错，我觉得这一定是您。” 
“哦，那么，假如你觉得这样肯定，”来客一面说着，一面把他的手杖靠在了一个角落里，把帽子放在了一张椅子上，“让我告诉你，我亲爱的杰拉尔，你要我这样等在门外可太不客气了。” 
“你去吧，茄曼。”维尔福说。于是那仆人带着一脸的惊异神色退出了房间。
Chapter 12 Father and Son
 M. NOIRTIER--for it was, indeed, he who entered--looked after the servant until the door was closed, and then, fearing, no doubt, that he might be overheard in the ante-chamber, he opened the door again, nor was the precaution useless, as appeared from the rapid retreat of Germain, who proved that he was not exempt from the sin which ruined our first parents. M. Noirtier then took the trouble to close and bolt the ante-chamber door, then that of the bed-chamber, and then extended his hand to Villefort, who had followed all his motions with surprise which he could not conceal. 
"Well, now, my dear Gérard," said he to the young man, with a very significant look, "do you know, you seem as if you were not very glad to see me?" 
"My dear father," said Villefort, "I am, on the contrary, delighted; but I so little expected your visit, that it has somewhat overcome me." 
"But, my dear fellow," replied M. Noirtier, seating himself, "I might say the same thing to you, when you announce to me your wedding for the 28th of February, and on the 3rd of March you turn up here in Paris." 
"And if I have come, my dear father," said Gérard, drawing closer to M. Noirtier, "do not complain, for it is for you that I came, and my journey will be your salvation." 
"Ah, indeed!" said M. Noirtier, stretching himself out at his ease in the chair. "Really, pray tell me all about it, for it must be interesting." 
"Father, you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" 
"No. 53; yes, I am vice-president." 
"Father, your coolness makes me shudder." 
"Why, my dear boy, when a man has been proscribed by the mountaineers, has escaped from Paris in a hay-cart, been hunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre's bloodhounds, he becomes accustomed to most things. But go on, what about the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" 
"Why, they induced General Quesnel to go there, and General Quesnel, who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the evening, was found the next day in the Seine." 
"And who told you this fine story?" 
"The king himself." 
"Well, then, in return for your story," continued Noirtier, "I will tell you another." 
"My dear father, I think I already know what you are about to tell me." 
"Ah, you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" 
"Not so loud, father, I entreat of you--for your own sake as well as mine. Yes, I heard this news, and knew it even before you could; for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed, half-desperate at the enforced delay." 
"Three days ago? You are crazy. Why, three days ago the emperor had not landed." 
"No matter, I was aware of his intention." 
"How did you know about it?" 
"By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba." 
"To me?" 
"To you; and which I discovered in the pocket-book of the messenger. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another, you, my dear father, would probably ere this have been shot." Villefort's father laughed. 
"Come, come," said he, "will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot, my dear boy? What an idea! Where is the letter you speak of? I know you too well to suppose you would allow such a thing to pass you." 
"I burnt it, for fear that even a fragment should remain; for that letter must have led to your condemnation." 
"And the destruction of your future prospects," replied Noirtier; "yes, I can easily comprehend that. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me." 
"I do better than that, sir--I save you." 
"You do? Why, really, the thing becomes more and more dramatic--explain yourself." 
"I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques." 
"It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police. Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have found"-- 
"They have not found; but they are on the track." 
"Yes, that the usual phrase; I am quite familiar with it. When the police is at fault, it declares that it is on the track; and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say, with a sneaking air, that the track is lost." 
"Yes, but they have found a corpse; the general has been killed, and in all countries they call that a murder." 
"A murder do you call it? why, there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered. People are found every day in the Seine, having thrown themselves in, or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim." 
"Father, you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair, and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. No, no, do not be deceived; this was murder in every sense of the word." 
"And who thus designated it?" 
"The king himself." 
"The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics. In politics, my dear fellow, you know, as well as I do, there are no men, but ideas--no feelings, but interests; in politics we do not kill a man, we only remove an obstacle, that is all. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well, I will tell you. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel; he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba; one of us went to him, and invited him to the Rue Saint-Jacques, where he would find some friends. He came there, and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba, the projected landing, etc. When he had heard and comprehended all to the fullest extent, he replied that he was a royalist. Then all looked at each other,--he was made to take an oath, and did so, but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him, and yet, in spite of that, the general was allowed to depart free--perfectly free. Yet he did not return home. What could that mean? why, my dear fellow, that on leaving us he lost his way, that's all. A murder? really, Villefort, you surprise me. You, a deputy procureur, to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you, when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist, and cut off the head of one of my party, 'My son, you have committed a murder?' No, I said, 'Very well, sir, you have gained the victory; to-morrow, perchance, it will be our turn.'" 
"But, father, take care; when our turn comes, our revenge will be sweeping." 
"I do not understand you." 
"You rely on the usurper's return?" 
"We do." 
"You are mistaken; he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed, tracked, and caught like a wild beast." 
"My dear fellow, the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble; on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons, and on the 20th or 25th at Paris." 
"The people will rise." 
"Yes, to go and meet him." 
"He has but a handful of men with him, and armies will be despatched against him." 
"Yes, to escort him into the capital. Really, my dear Gérard, you are but a child; you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you, three days after the landing, 'The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men. He is pursued.' But where is he? what is he doing? You do not know at all, and in this way they will chase him to Paris, without drawing a trigger." 
"Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities, and will oppose to him an impassable barrier." 
"Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm--all Lyons will hasten to welcome him. Believe me, we are as well informed as you, and our police are as good as your own. Would you like a proof of it? well, you wished to conceal your journey from me, and yet I knew of your arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion, yet I have your address, and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. Ring, then, if you please, for a second knife, fork, and plate, and we will dine together." 
"Indeed!" replied Villefort, looking at his father with astonishment, "you really do seem very well informed." 
"Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power have only the means that money produces--we who are in expectation, have those which devotion prompts." 
"Devotion!" said Villefort, with a sneer. 
"Yes, devotion; for that is, I believe, the phrase for hopeful ambition." 
And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell-rope, to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Villefort caught his arm. 
"Wait, my dear father," said the young man, "one word more." 
"Say on." 
"However stupid the royalist police may be, they do know one terrible thing." 
"What is that?" 
"The description of the man who, on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared, presented himself at his house." 
"Oh, the admirable police have found that out, have they? And what may be that description?" 
"Dark complexion; hair, eyebrows, and whiskers, black; blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the chin; rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole; a hat with wide brim, and a cane." 
"Ah, ha, that's it, is it?" said Noirtier; "and why, then, have they not laid hands on him?" 
"Because yesterday, or the day before, they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq-Héron." 
"Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" 
"Yes; but they may catch him yet." 
"True," said Noirtier, looking carelessly around him, "true, if this person were not on his guard, as he is;" and he added with a smile, "He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance." At these words he rose, and put off his frock-coat and cravat, went towards a table on which lay his son's toilet articles, lathered his face, took a razor, and, with a firm hand, cut off the compromising whiskers. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. 
His whiskers cut off, Noirtier gave another turn to his hair; took, instead of his black cravat, a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau; put on, in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frock-coat, a coat of Villefort's of dark brown, and cut away in front; tried on before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son's, which appeared to fit him perfectly, and, leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it, he took up a small bamboo switch, cut the air with it once or twice, and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics. 
"Well," he said, turning towards his wondering son, when this disguise was completed, "well, do you think your police will recognize me now." 
"No, father," stammered Villefort; "at least, I hope not." 
"And now, my dear boy," continued Noirtier, "I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care." 
"Oh, rely on me," said Villefort. 
"Yes, yes; and now I believe you are right, and that you have really saved my life; be assured I will return the favor hereafter." Villefort shook his head. 
"You are not convinced yet?" 
"I hope at least, that you may be mistaken." 
"Shall you see the king again?" 
"Perhaps." 
"Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?" 
"Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court, father." 
"True, but some day they do them justice; and supposing a second restoration, you would then pass for a great man." 
"Well, what should I say to the king?" 
"Say this to him: 'Sire, you are deceived as to the feeling in France, as to the opinions of the towns, and the prejudices of the army; he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre, who at Nevers is styled the usurper, is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons, and emperor at Grenoble. You think he is tracked, pursued, captured; he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger, worn out with fatigue, ready to desert, gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward. Sire, go, leave France to its real master, to him who acquired it, not by purchase, but by right of conquest; go, sire, not that you incur any risk, for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy, but because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola, Marengo, Austerlitz.' Tell him this, Gérard; or, rather, tell him nothing. Keep your journey a secret; do not boast of what you have come to Paris to do, or have done; return with all speed; enter Marseilles at night, and your house by the back-door, and there remain, quiet, submissive, secret, and, above all, inoffensive; for this time, I swear to you, we shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. Go, my son--go, my dear Gérard, and by your obedience to my paternal orders, or, if you prefer it, friendly counsels, we will keep you in your place. This will be," added Noirtier, with a smile, "one means by which you may a second time save me, if the political balance should some day take another turn, and cast you aloft while hurling me down. Adieu, my dear Gérard, and at your next journey alight at my door." Noirtier left the room when he had finished, with the same calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this remarkable and trying conversation. Villefort, pale and agitated, ran to the window, put aside the curtain, and saw him pass, cool and collected, by two or three ill-looking men at the corner of the street, who were there, perhaps, to arrest a man with black whiskers, and a blue frock-coat, and hat with broad brim. 
Villefort stood watching, breathless, until his father had disappeared at the Rue Bussy. Then he turned to the various articles he had left behind him, put the black cravat and blue frock-coat at the bottom of the portmanteau, threw the hat into a dark closet, broke the cane into small bits and flung it in the fire, put on his travelling-cap, and calling his valet, checked with a look the thousand questions he was ready to ask, paid his bill, sprang into his carriage, which was ready, learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered Grenoble, and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed along the road, at length reached Marseilles, a prey to all the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with ambition and its first successes.  
诺瓦蒂埃先生因为进来的人的确就是他，用他的眼睛一直跟随着那仆人，一直看到他把门关上，然后，他又走过去把门打开了，无疑他是怕外客厅里有人偷听，这个预防倒并非没用，因为，从茄曼的突然退下这个行动上来看，他显然也犯了我们的始祖因之而堕落的原罪。诺瓦蒂埃先生不怕麻烦地小心地去关上了外客厅的门，又关上了卧室的门，然后才把他的手伸给了维尔福，而后者正带着惊魂未定的神色在呆呆地注视着他的一举一动。 
“啊，我亲爱的杰拉尔，”来客对青年说道，并深情地望了他一眼，“你知道么，看样子你似乎并不十分高兴看到我？” 
“我亲爱的父亲，”维尔福说，“我，恰恰相反，我是很高兴的，只是我没想到您会来，父亲，所以吃了一惊。” 
“可是，我亲爱的朋友，”诺瓦蒂埃先生一边说，一边找了一个地方坐了下来，“我倒正想对你说这句话，因为你告诉我说你是在二月二十八日订婚，而三月三日却已到了巴黎这儿了。” 
“我亲爱的父亲，”杰拉尔说着，一面把椅子拉近了诺瓦蒂埃先生，“就算我来了，您也不必抱怨，因为我是为您而来的，我这次来也许能救您的命呢。” 
“啊，真的吗！”诺瓦蒂埃先生已舒舒服服地躺在椅子里了。“真的，请讲给我听听，法官先生，这一定很有趣。” 
“父亲，您听说过圣杰克司街有一个拿破仑党俱乐部吗？” 
“不错，在五十三号，我就是该俱乐部的副主席。” 
“父亲，您的镇定简直使我有点儿害怕了。” 
“噢，我的好孩子，一个曾被山岳党所放逐，曾躲在干草车里逃出了巴黎，被罗伯斯庇尔的暗探在波尔多的旷野里追逐过的人，他对很多事情都早已习惯了。请往下说吧，圣杰克司街的俱乐部怎么了？” 
“哦，他们引诱奎斯尔将军去那里，奎斯奈尔将军是在晚上九点钟离家的，次日在赛纳河里被人发现的。” 
“这个故事是谁告诉你的？” 
“国王亲自告诉我的。” 
“那么好吧，作为对你的故事的回报，”诺瓦蒂埃又说，“我也讲个故事给你听听。” 
“我亲爱的父亲，我想，我已经知道您要告诉我的是什么了。” 
“哦，你已听到皇帝陛下登陆的消息了？” 
“别这么大声，父亲，我求求您，——为了您自己也为了我。是的，我听说这个消息了，甚至比您还早就听说了。三天以前，我以最快的速度，几乎拼命似的从马赛赶到巴黎来，因为我恨不得把我脑子里的所苦恼着的一个念头一下子就送到六百里以外去。” 
“三天以前！你疯啦？三天以前圣上还没有登陆呢。” 
“那没有关系，我早已知道他的计划了。” 
“你是怎么知道的”” 
“从一封由厄尔巴岛发出的送给您的信上知道的。” 
“给我的信？” 
“是给您的，我是在那送信人的笔记本里发现的。要是那封信落到了别人的手里，您我亲爱的父亲呀，您这个时候大概早已被枪毙啦。” 
维尔福的父亲大笑起来。“嗯，嗯，”他说，“看来昏君倒也从圣上那儿学到了速断速决的方法了。枪毙！我的好孩子！你这个刑罚执行得太快了吧。你所说的这封信在哪儿？我非常了解你的为人，我想你是不会让这样的一件东西随便乱扔的吧。” 
“我把它给烧了，就怕留下只字片言，因为那封信简直就是您的判决书。” 
“而且还会断送你的前程，”诺瓦蒂埃说道，“是的，这一点我倒不难理解。既然有你来保护我我就什么都不必怕了。” 
“我不仅仅是保护了您，先生，我救了您的命！” 
“是吗？咦，事情真是愈来愈戏剧化了，请你再说说看！” 
“我得再回到圣杰克司街那个俱乐部的话题上去。” 
“看来这俱乐部倒颇使警务部头痛。那他们为什么不再仔细地搜一搜呢？他们会找到——” 
“他们没有找到，但他们已经有线索了。” 
“不过那是老生常谈，这句话的意思我知道得很清楚。当警务部没有办法的时候，他们就宣称已经有线索了，于是政府就耐心地等着，直等到有一天，他们说象一溜青烟一样，那个线索失踪了。” 
“不错，但他们找到了一具尸体，奎斯奈尔将军被害了，而在世界各国，他们都称那是一次谋杀。” 
“谋杀！你是这样认为吗？咦，根本没有任何证据可以证明将军是被谋杀的呀。赛纳河里每天都可能捞到死人，或是自己跳下去的，或是因为不会游泳而淹死的。” 
“父亲，您知道得很清楚，将军并不是一个会因绝望而跳水自杀的人，大正月里也不会有人在赛纳河里洗澡。不，不！不要弄错了，这次的死明明是一次谋杀。” 
“这是谁定性的？” 
“国王亲自说的。” 
“国王！我还当他是一个哲学家，能懂得政治上并无谋杀这件事呢。亲爱的，你我都知道得很清楚，在政治上，是没有人的存在的，只有主义，没有感情可言，只有利害。在政治上，我们不是杀了一个人，而是除去了一个障碍。你想不想知道实情？好吧，我来告诉你。最初大家都很信赖奎斯奈尔将军，他是厄尔巴岛方面介绍来的。我们中有人到他那儿去邀请他到圣杰克司街去，请他去见几个朋友。他去了，大家就把计划告诉了他，如何离开厄尔巴岛，在什么时间登陆等等。当他知道了详情以后，他回答说，他是一个保皇党。当时大家都面面相觑，我们叫他发誓保守秘密，他发了个誓，但口是心非，以致真的激怒了上天来显灵报应！尽管如此，大家还是让将军自由地离开了，完全让他自由了。可是他却没回家。让我怎么说呢？ 
唉，亲爱的，很可能他在离开我们之后，他迷了路。你说谋杀！ 
真的，维尔福，你太令我吃惊了！你，一个代理检察官，竟如此捕风捉影地给人定罪！当你为王宅尽忠，把我党的一个成员杀头的时候，我是否对你说过，‘我的儿子，你犯了谋杀罪啦？’没有，我只是说，‘好极了，先生，你得胜了，明天，说不定，胜利又是我们的了。” 
“但是，父亲，要注意，当我们胜利了的时候，我们的报复可是铁面无情的。” 
“我不懂你的意思。” 
“您是在指望逆贼复位吗？” 
“我们是这样想的。” 
“您错啦，他在法国境内还走不出五里路，就会被跟踪，追逐的，象一只野兽那样被抓住的。” 
“我亲爱的朋友，圣上这个时候已在格勒诺布尔的路上了。十一、二日他就会到达里昂，而在二十日或二十五日到达巴黎。” 
“人民会起来——” 
“是的，起来迎接他的。” 
“他只带了几个人来，而我们会派军队去剿灭他的。” 
“是的，他们会护送他进首都的。真的，我亲爱的杰拉尔，你只是个小孩子，你自以为消息很灵通，因为有一份急报在皇上登陆后对你说，‘逆贼携随从数人于戛纳登陆，已在追逐中。’那么他现在在哪儿？在干些什么？恐怕你一点都不知道吧。他在被追逐中，你所知道的仅此而已。妙极了，象这样，他们可以不费一枪一弹就把他直追到巴黎来。” 
“格勒诺布尔和里昂都是效忠王室的城市，人民会起来反对他，使那儿变成一道插翅难飞的关卡。” 
“格勒诺布尔会热情地为他大开城门的，全里昂的人也都会赶快出来欢迎的。相信我，我们同你们一样消息灵通；我们的警务部也象你们的一样效率高。要给你举一个例子来证明吗？就拿你这次到巴黎来说吧。你想瞒过我，尽管你的行踪只告诉了你的马车夫，可是我却得到了你的住址，证据是，你刚在桌子面前一坐下，我就来到了这儿。现在，假如你不介意，请拉一下铃再要一副刀叉碟子来，我们一同进餐吧。” 
“真是这样！”维尔福惊奇地望着他的父亲回答，“你们的消息看来的确很灵通。” 
“呃，事情很简单。你们当权的人所拥有的，只不过是金钱能收买到的东西，而我们在野人，却可以得到由信仰所激发的一切。” 
“信仰？”维尔福微笑着说。 
“不错，是信仰。那两个字的含义，我相信，就是有希望的雄心。”说完，维尔福的父亲伸手去准备拉那条叫人的铃绳，想叫侍者进来。维尔福却按住了他的手臂。 
“等一等，我亲爱的父亲，青年说道，我再说一句话。” 
“说吧。” 
“不管保皇党的警务部多么无能，他们却知道一件可怕的事。” 
“什么事？” 
“就是有个人的外貌特征在奎斯奈将军失踪的那天早上到将军家里去过。” 
“哦，能干的警务部知道了这件事，那个人的外貌特征什么样？” 
“褐色的皮肤，头发，眉毛胡须，都是黑的，排胸扣的蓝色披风，钮扣上挂着荣誉团军官的玫瑰形勋章，戴阔边帽子，一支藤手杖。” 
“啊，啊！他们知道了这一切？”诺瓦蒂埃说，“那么，为什么他们不捉住那个人？” 
“因为昨天，或者前天，他们跟踪那人到高海隆路拐角上的时候，把他给跟丢了。” 
“我说你们警备部是些脓包吗？” 
“是的，或许他们迟早会捉到他的。” 
“不错，”诺瓦蒂埃说，随即漫不经心地环四周看了看——“不错，假如这个人事先没有得到警告或许会被他们抓住的，但现在他已经得到了警告。”他微笑了一下又说，“因此他就要改变他的相貌和穿着了，说着他走到放梳妆品的桌子前面，在脸上擦了一些肥皂，拿起一把剃刀，用一只结实的手刮掉那险些给他添麻烦的胡子，因为它们是给警务部留下了非常明显的印象。维尔福惊奇地注视着他。 
胡子刮掉了，诺瓦蒂埃又把他的头发重新整理了一下，然后，拿起一条放在一只打开着的旅行皮包上面的花领巾，打了上去，穿上了维尔福的一件燕尾服式的棕黑色的一衣，脱下了他自己那件高领蓝色披风，在镜子前面试，他又拿了他儿子的一顶狭边帽子，觉得非常合适；把手杖放在原先那个壁炉角落里，拿起一支细竹手杖，用他那有力的手虎虎地试了一下，这支细手杖是文雅代理法官走路时用的，拿着它更显得从容轻快，这是他的主要特征之一。 
“好了”化完了妆以后，他转过身来寻着他惊讶得目瞪口呆的儿子说，“怎么样，你们警务部还能认出吗？” 
“认不出来了，父亲。维尔福讷纳地说，“至少，我希望如此。” 
“现在，我亲爱的孩子，”诺瓦蒂埃又说，“我留给你来照料这些东西，全凭你的谨慎来把它处理掉了。” 
“哦，放心好了。”维尔福说。 
“是，是的，我现在相信你的确说的不错，你真的救了我的命，但你放心，我很快就会向你报恩的。” 
维尔福摇摇头。 
“你不相信？” 
“至少，我希望是您弄错了。” 
“你愿不愿意在他面前当一个预言家呢？” 
“讲祸事的预言家是不受宫廷欢迎的，父亲。” 
“不错，但他们总有一天会得到报偿的，假如真的发生了第二次的复辟，你那时就可以成为一个伟人了。” 
“好吧，我对国王该说些什么呢？” 
“对他这样说：‘陛下，关于法国的形势，市民的舆论，军队的士气，您受骗了。那个在巴黎被您称为科西嘉岛的魔王，在内韦尔被冠以逆贼头衔的人，已经在里昂被人欢呼为波拿巴，在格勒诺布尔被尊为皇帝了。您以为他是在被围剿，被追逐，或将要被擒获了，但他却在迅速前进，就象他所养的鹰那样。 
您所信赖的士兵都快要饿死，累死啦，他们随时都准备着开小差，然后象雪片附在向前滚的雪球似地赶到他那儿去。陛下，走吧！把法兰西让给它真正的主了吧，让给那个不是把它买到手，而是征服它的人吧。走吧，陛下，倒并不是因为您会遇到什么危险，因为您的对手很强大，会宽容您的，面对圣·路易的孙子来说，竟让那个打赢了阿柯尔战役，马伦戈战役，奥斯特利茨战役的那个人饶他一命未免也太丢脸了。’就对他这样说，或者，最好还是什么也不要告诉他。把你这次行程严守秘密，别吹嘘你到巴黎来干什么，或曾干了什么。赶快回去，在黑夜里进入马赛，从后门溜回家，静静地，服服贴贴地，不声不响地呆在那儿，而最重要的，就是不要惹人讨厌，因为这一次，我敢向你保证，我们认清了谁是敌人以后要给以狠狠的惩罚的。 
走吧，我的儿子，走吧，我亲爱的杰拉尔，假如你能听从我的话或者如果你高兴，把它算作友好的忠告也行，我们还可以保留你的原职的。这个，”诺瓦蒂埃微笑了一下又说，“就算是一种交易吧，假如有一天，在政治的天平上你高我低的时候，还希望你再救我一命。再见了，我亲爱的杰拉尔，下次再来时，请在我的门口下车。”诺瓦蒂埃在讲这番话后，他便以同样安祥的态度离开了房间。维尔福脸色苍白，急忙奔到窗前，撩开窗帘，看着他泰然自若地走过街口两三个鬼头鬼脑的人的身边，这两三个人，也许就是等候在那儿来抓一个长黑胡子的，穿蓝色披风，戴阔边呢帽的人的。 
维尔福屏息静气地站在那儿呆望着，直望到他的父亲拐入了蒲赛街。然后他转过身来急忙去处理他留下来的那堆东西，把那黑领结和蓝披风塞进旅行包的箱底里，把帽子仍进了黑洞洞的壁厨里，把手杖折成几段，一下子投进了壁炉，然后戴上他的旅行便帽，叫仆人来，用眼色示意让他不要提任何问题，付了饭店的账，跳上那辆早已等候着的马车里，他在里昂得知波拿巴已进入格勒诺布尔，沿途到处都是兵荒马乱的，他终于到达马赛，这个野心勃勃的人初尝成功的喜悦，但同时，他心中又充满了种种希望和忧虑。   
Chapter 13 The Hundred Days
 M. NOIRTIER was a true prophet, and things progressed rapidly, as he had predicted. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba, a return which was unprecedented in the past, and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. 
Louis XVIII made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow; the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation, and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. Villefort, therefore, gained nothing save the king's gratitude (which was rather likely to injure him at the present time) and the cross of the Legion of Honor, which he had the prudence not to wear, although M. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. 
Napoleon would, doubtless, have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier, who was all powerful at court, and thus the Girondin of '93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. All Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantès had so nearly divulged. The king's procureur alone was deprived of his office, being suspected of royalism. 
However, scarcely was the imperial power established--that is, scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers,--he found on the table there Louis XVIII.'s half-filled snuff-box,--scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began, in spite of the authorities, to rekindle the flames of civil war, always smouldering in the south, and it required but little to excite the populace to acts of far greater violence than the shouts and insults with which they assailed the royalists whenever they ventured abroad. 
Owing to this change, the worthy shipowner became at that moment--we will not say all powerful, because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man, so much so, that many of the most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of "moderation"--but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantès. 
Villefort retained his place, but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. If the emperor remained on the throne, Gérard required a different alliance to aid his career; if Louis XVIII returned, the influence of M. de Saint-Méran, like his own, could be vastly increased, and the marriage be still more suitable. The deputy-procureur was, therefore, the first magistrate of Marseilles, when one morning his door opened, and M. Morrel was announced. 
Any one else would have hastened to receive him; but Villefort was a man of ability, and he knew this would be a sign of weakness. He made Morrel wait in the ante-chamber, although he had no one with him, for the simple reason that the king's procureur always makes every one wait, and after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers, he ordered M. Morrel to be admitted. 
Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected; he found him as he had found him six weeks before, calm, firm, and full of that glacial politeness, that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well-bred from the vulgar man. 
He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him; on the contrary, he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk, and his head leaning on his hand. He stopped at the door; Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him; then, after a brief interval, during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands,-- 
"M. Morrel, I believe?" said Villefort. 
"Yes, sir." 
"Come nearer," said the magistrate, with a patronizing wave of the hand, "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit." 
"Do you not guess, monsieur?" asked Morrel. 
"Not in the least; but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted." 
"Everything depends on you." 
"Explain yourself, pray." 
"Monsieur," said Morrel, recovering his assurance as he proceeded, "do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor, I came to intercede for a young man, the mate of my ship, who was accused of being concerned in correspondence with the Island of Elba? What was the other day a crime is to-day a title to favor. You then served Louis XVIII., and you did not show any favor--it was your duty; to-day you serve Napoleon, and you ought to protect him--it is equally your duty; I come, therefore, to ask what has become of him?" 
Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. "What is his name?" said he. "Tell me his name." 
"Edmond Dantès." 
Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five-and-twenty paces than have heard this name spoken; but he did not blanch. 
"Dantès," repeated he, "Edmond Dantès." 
"Yes, monsieur." Villefort opened a large register, then went to a table, from the table turned to his registers, and then, turning to Morrel,-- 
"Are you quite sure you are not mistaken, monsieur?" said he, in the most natural tone in the world. 
Had Morrel been a more quick-sighted man, or better versed in these matters, he would have been surprised at the king's procureur answering him on such a subject, instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department. But Morrel, disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear, was conscious only of the other's condescension. Villefort had calculated rightly. 
"No," said Morrel; "I am not mistaken. I have known him for ten years, the last four of which he was in my service. Do not you recollect, I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency, as I come to-day to plead for justice. You received me very coldly. Oh, the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days." 
"Monsieur," returned Villefort, "I was then a royalist, because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne, but the chosen of the nation. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me, the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people." 
"That's right!" cried Morrel. "I like to hear you speak thus, and I augur well for Edmond from it." 
"Wait a moment," said Villefort, turning over the leaves of a register; "I have it--a sailor, who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. I recollect now; it was a very serious charge." 
"How so?" 
"You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice." 
"Well?" 
"I made my report to the authorities at Paris, and a week after he was carried off." 
"Carried off!" said Morrel. "What can they have done with him?" 
"Oh, he has been taken to Fenestrelles, to Pignerol, or to the Sainte-Marguerite islands. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel." 
"Come when he will, it shall be kept for him. But how is it he is not already returned? It seems to me the first care of government should be to set at liberty those who have suffered for their adherence to it." 
"Do not be too hasty, M. Morrel," replied Villefort. "The order of imprisonment came from high authority, and the order for his liberation must proceed from the same source; and, as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight, the letters have not yet been forwarded." 
"But," said Morrel, "is there no way of expediting all these formalities--of releasing him from arrest?" 
"There has been no arrest." 
"How?" 
"It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man's disappearance without leaving any traces, so that no written forms or documents may defeat their wishes." 
"It might be so under the Bourbons, but at present"-- 
"It has always been so, my dear Morrel, since the reign of Louis XIV. The emperor is more strict in prison discipline than even Louis himself, and the number of prisoners whose names are not on the register is incalculable." Had Morrel even any suspicions, so much kindness would have dispelled them. 
"Well, M. de Villefort, how would you advise me to act?" asked he. 
"Petition the minister." 
"Oh, I know what that is; the minister receives two hundred petitions every day, and does not read three." 
"That is true; but he will read a petition countersigned and presented by me." 
"And will you undertake to deliver it?" 
"With the greatest pleasure. Dantès was then guilty, and now he is innocent, and it is as much my duty to free him as it was to condemn him." Villefort thus forestalled any danger of an inquiry, which, however improbable it might be, if it did take place would leave him defenceless. 
"But how shall I address the minister?" 
"Sit down there," said Villefort, giving up his place to Morrel, "and write what I dictate." 
"Will you be so good?" 
"Certainly. But lose no time; we have lost too much already." 
"That is true. Only think what the poor fellow may even now be suffering." Villefort shuddered at the suggestion; but he had gone too far to draw back. Dantès must be crushed to gratify Villefort's ambition. 
Villefort dictated a petition, in which, from an excellent intention, no doubt, Dantès' patriotic services were exaggerated, and he was made out one of the most active agents of Napoleon's return. It was evident that at the sight of this document the minister would instantly release him. The petition finished, Villefort read it aloud. 
"That will do," said he; "leave the rest to me." 
"Will the petition go soon?" 
"To-day." 
"Countersigned by you?" 
"The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the contents of your petition." And, sitting down, Villefort wrote the certificate at the bottom. 
"What more is to be done?" 
"I will do whatever is necessary." This assurance delighted Morrel, who took leave of Villefort, and hastened to announce to old Dantès that he would soon see his son. 
As for Villefort, instead of sending to Paris, he carefully preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantès, in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely,--that is, a second restoration. Dantès remained a prisoner, and heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII.'s throne, or the still more tragic destruction of the empire. 
Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand, and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. At last there was Waterloo, and Morrel came no more; he had done all that was in his power, and any fresh attempt would only compromise himself uselessly. 
Louis XVIII. remounted the throne; Villefort, to whom Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories, sought and obtained the situation of king's procureur at Toulouse, and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran, whose father now stood higher at court than ever. 
And so Dantès, after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo, remained in his dungeon, forgotten of earth and heaven. Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate that overwhelmed Dantès; and, when Napoleon returned to France, he, after the manner of mediocre minds, termed the coincidence, a decree of Providence. But when Napoleon returned to Paris, Danglars' heart failed him, and he lived in constant fear of Dantès' return on a mission of vengeance. He therefore informed M. Morrel of his wish to quit the sea, and obtained a recommendation from him to a Spanish merchant, into whose service he entered at the end of March, that is, ten or twelve days after Napoleon's return. He then left for Madrid, and was no more heard of. 
Fernand understood nothing except that Dantès was absent. What had become of him he cared not to inquire. Only, during the respite the absence of his rival afforded him, he reflected, partly on the means of deceiving Mercédès as to the cause of his absence, partly on plans of emigration and abduction, as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on the summit of Cape Pharo, at the spot from whence Marseilles and the Catalans are visible, watching for the apparition of a young and handsome man, who was for him also the messenger of vengeance. Fernand's mind was made up; he would shoot Dantès, and then kill himself. But Fernand was mistaken; a man of his disposition never kills himself, for he constantly hopes. 
During this time the empire made its last conscription, and every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey the summons of the emperor. Fernand departed with the rest, bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was away, his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercédès. Had Fernand really meant to kill himself, he would have done so when he parted from Mercédès. His devotion, and the compassion he showed for her misfortunes, produced the effect they always produce on noble minds--Mercédès had always had a sincere regard for Fernand, and this was now strengthened by gratitude. 
"My brother," said she as she placed his knapsack on his shoulders, "be careful of yourself, for if you are killed, I shall be alone in the world." These words carried a ray of hope into Fernand's heart. Should Dantès not return, Mercédès might one day be his. 
Mercédès was left alone face to face with the vast plain that had never seemed so barren, and the sea that had never seemed so vast. Bathed in tears she wandered about the Catalan village. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as a statue, looking towards Marseilles, at other times gazing on the sea, and debating as to whether it were not better to cast herself into the abyss of the ocean, and thus end her woes. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting this resolution into execution; but her religious feelings came to her aid and saved her. Caderousse was, like Fernand, enrolled in the army, but, being married and eight years older, he was merely sent to the frontier. Old Dantès, who was only sustained by hope, lost all hope at Napoleon's downfall. Five months after he had been separated from his son, and almost at the hour of his arrest, he breathed his last in Mercédès' arms. M. Morrel paid the expenses of his funeral, and a few small debts the poor old man had contracted. 
There was more than benevolence in this action; there was courage; the south was aflame, and to assist, even on his death-bed, the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantès, was stigmatized as a crime.  
诺瓦蒂埃先生真是一个预言家，事态的发展正如他所说的那样。谁都知道从爱尔巴岛卷土重来的这次著名的历史事件，——那次奇妙的复归，不仅是史无前例，而且大概也会后无来者。 
路易十八对这一猛烈的打击只是软弱无力地抵抗了一下。他这个还没有坐稳的王朝，本来基础就不稳固，一向是摇摇欲坠，只要拿破仑一挥手，这座由旧偏见和新观念不好调和而构成的上层建筑便坍了下来。所以维尔福从国王那里只得了一些感激（这在目前反而可说是对他有害的）和荣誉十字勋章，但对这个勋章，他倒多了个心眼，并没有佩挂它，尽管勃拉卡斯公爵按时把荣誉勋位证书送了来。 
诺瓦蒂埃当时成了显赫一时的人物，要不是为了他，拿破仑无疑早就把维尔福免职了。这个一七九三年的吉伦特党人和一八○六年的上议员保护了这个不久前保护过他的人。 
帝国正在复活期间，但已不难预见它的二次倾覆了。维尔福的全部力量都用在封住那几乎被唐太斯所泄漏的秘密上了。只有检察官被免了职，因为他有效忠于王室的嫌疑。 
帝国的权力刚刚建立，也就是说，皇帝刚刚住进杜伊勒里宫，从我们已经向读者们介绍过的那间小书房里发出了无数命令，在桌子上路易十八留下的那半空的鼻烟盒还敞开在那里。在马赛，不管官员们的态度如何，老百姓已知道：南北始终未被扑灭的内战的余烬又重新燃起来了；保党人如果敢冒险外出，必定会遭到斥骂和侮辱，这时如果要想挑起人民来报复他们，是不费吹灰之力的。 
由于时势的变化，那位可敬的船主在当时虽还说不上势倾全市，因为他毕竟是个谨慎而胆小的人，以致许多最狂热的拿破仑党分子竟斥他为“温和派”，但却已有足够的势力可使他所提出的要求闻达于当局，而他的那个要求，我们不难猜到，是与唐太斯有关的。 
维尔福的上司虽已倒台，他本人却依旧保留了原职，只是他的婚事已暂时搁在了一边，以期等待一个更有利的时机。假如皇帝能保住王位，那么杰拉尔就需要一个不同的联姻来帮助他的事业，他的父亲已负责再给他另找一个了。假如路易十八重登王位，则圣·梅朗侯爵以及他本人的势力就会大增，那桩婚事也就比以前更实惠了。 
代理检察官暂时当上了马赛的首席法官，一天早晨，仆人推门进来，说莫雷尔先生来访。换了别人很可能就会赶忙去接见船主了。但维尔福是一个很能干的人，他知道这样做等于是在显其软弱。所以尽管他并没有别的客人，但仍让莫雷尔在外客厅里等候，理由只是代理检察官总是要叫每个人都等候一下的，读了一刻钟的报纸以后，他才吩咐请莫雷尔先生进来。 
莫雷尔原以为维尔福会显出一副垂头丧气的样子。没想到见到他的时候，发觉他仍象六个星期以前见到他的时候一样，镇定，稳重，冷漠而彬彬有礼，这是教养有素的上等人和平民之间最难逾越的鸿沟。他走进维尔福的书房。满以为那法官见他就会发抖，但正相反，他看到的是维尔福坐在那儿，手肘支在办公桌上，用手托着头，于是他自己感到浑身打了个寒颤。他在门口停了下来。维尔福凝视了他一会儿，象是有点不认识他了似的。在这短短的一瞬间，那诚实的船主只是困惑地把他的帽子在两手中转动着，然后——“我想您是莫雷尔先生吧？”维尔福说。 
“是的，先生。” 
“请进来先生，”法官象赐恩似地摆一摆手说，“请告诉我是什么原因使我能有幸看到你的来访。” 
“您猜不到吗，先生？”莫雷尔问。 
“猜不到，但假如我可以做出什么为您效劳的话，我是很高兴的。” 
“先生，”莫雷尔说，他渐渐恢复了自信心，“您还记得吧，在皇帝陛下登陆的前几天，我曾来为一个青年人求过情，他是我船上的大副，被控与厄尔巴岛有联系。那样的联系，在当时是一种罪名，尽管在今天却已是一种荣耀了。您当时是为路易十八效劳，不能庇护他，那是您的职责。但今天您定是为拿破仑效劳，您就应该保护他了，——这同样也是您的职责。所以我就是来问问那个青年人现在怎么样了。” 
维尔福竭力控制住自己。“他叫什么名字？”他问道。“把他的姓名告诉我。” 
“爱德蒙·唐太斯。” 
虽然，维尔福宁愿面对一支二十五步外的枪口也不愿听人提到这个名字，但他依旧面不改色。 
“唐太斯？”他重复了一遍，“爱德蒙·唐太斯？” 
“是的，先生。” 
维尔福翻开一大卷档案，放到桌子上，又从桌子上那儿走去翻另外那些档案，然后转向莫雷尔：“您肯定没弄错吗，先生？”他以世界上最自然的口吻说道。 
假若莫雷尔再心细一点，或对这种事较有经验的话，那他说应该觉得奇怪，为什么对代理检察官不打发他去问监狱长，去问档案官，而是这样亲自答复他。但此时莫雷尔在维尔福身上没发现半点恐惧，只觉得对方很谦恭。维尔福的作法果然不错。 
“没有，”莫雷尔说，“我没弄错。我认识他已经十年了，在他被捕的那一小时里，他还在为我服务呢。您也许还记得，六个星期以前，我曾来请求您对他从宽办理。正象我今天来请求您对他公道一些一样。您当时接待我的态度非常冷淡，啊，在那个年头里，保皇党人对拿破仑党当时是非常严厉的。” 
“先生，”维尔福答道，“我当时是一个保皇党人，因为当时我以为波旁家族不仅是王伯的嫡系继承者，而且是国人所拥戴的君主。但皇帝这次奇迹般地复位证明我是错了，只有万民所爱戴的人才是合法的君主。” 
“这就对了。”莫雷尔大声说道。“我很高兴听到您这样说，我相信可以从您这番话上得到爱德蒙的喜讯。” 
“等一等，”维尔福一边说，一边翻阅一宗档案，“有了，他是一个水手，而且快要娶一个年轻的迦太兰姑娘了。我现在想起来了，这是一件非常严重的案子。” 
“怎么回事？” 
“您知道，他离开这儿以后，就被关到法院的监狱里去了。” 
“那么后来呢？” 
“我向巴黎打了个报告，把从他身上找到的文件附送去了。你该明白，这是我的职责。过了一个星期，他就被带走了。” 
“带走了！”莫雷尔说。“他们把那个可怜的孩子怎样了呢？” 
“哦，他大概被送到费尼斯德里，壁尼罗尔，或圣·玛加里岛去了。你一定会在某一天看到他回来再给您当船长的。” 
“无论他什么时候回来，那个位置都给他保留着。但他怎么还不回来呢？依我看，依拿破仑党法院最关切的事，就该是释放那些被保皇党法院关进监狱里去的人。” 
“别太心急，莫雷尔先生，”维尔福说道，“凡事我们都得按法律手续进行。禁闭令是上面签发的，他的释放令也得在老地方办理。拿破仑复位还不到两个星期，那些信还没送出去呢。” 
“但是，”莫雷尔说，“现在我们已经赢了，除了等待办理这些正式手续之外，难道就没有别的办法了吗？我有几个朋友，他们有点势力，我可以弄到一张撤消逮捕的命令的。” 
“根本就没什么逮捕令。” 
“那么，在入狱登记簿上勾消他的名字。” 
“政治犯是不登记的。有时，政府就是用这种办法来使一个人失踪而不留任何痕迹的。入了册就有据可查了。” 
“波旁王执政时，或许是那样，但现在——” 
“任何时代都是这样的，我亲爱的莫雷尔，从路易十四那个时代就开始这样了。皇帝对于狱规的管理比路易更加严格，监狱里不登记姓名的犯人多得不计其数。” 
即使莫雷尔再有什么怀疑，这番苦口婆心的辩解也足以使之完全消除了。“那么，维尔福先生，您能否给我个什么忠告以便使可怜的唐太斯快点回来？”他问道。 
“去求一下警务大臣吧。” 
“噢，我知道那意味着什么。大臣每天都要收到两百封请愿书，但他还看不了三封。” 
“那倒是真的，不过由我签署的，并由我呈上去的请愿书他一定会看的。” 
“您愿意负责送去吗？” 
“非常愿意。唐太斯当时有罪，但现在他已无罪了。当时把他判罪和现在使他重获自由都同样是我的职责。” 
这样，维尔福就避免了一次调查的危险，一经查究，他可就完了，这虽然并不一定会成为事实，但却是很有可能的。 
“可是我怎么去对大臣说明？” 
“到这儿来，”维尔福一边说，一边把他的座位让给了莫雷尔，“我说，您写。” 
“真的由您费心来办吗？” 
“当然罗。别浪费时间了，我们已经浪费得太多啦。” 
“是的。想想那个可怜的青年人还在那儿等待着，在那儿受苦，或许在那儿绝望了呢。” 
维尔福一想到那个犯人在那黑暗寂静的牢房里咒骂他，就不禁打了个寒颤。但他仍不肯让步，在维尔福的野心的重压之下，唐太斯是必须被摧毁的。 
维尔福口述了一封措辞美妙的请愿书，他在里面夸大了唐太斯的爱国心和对拿破仑党的功劳。以致唐太斯简直成了使拿破仑卷土重来最出力的一名活跃分子。据推测，一看到这份函件，大臣会立刻释放他的。请愿书写好了，维尔福把它朗诵了一遍。 
“成了，”他说，“其余的事交给我来办好了。” 
“请愿书很快就送去吗？” 
“今天就送出去。” 
“由您批署？” 
“证明您的请愿书内容属实，这是我很乐意做的事。”维尔福说着便坐了下来，在信的末端签上了字。 
“还要做什么别的吗？”莫雷尔问。 
“去等着吧，”维尔福回答，“一切由我来负责好了。” 
这个保证使莫雷尔充满了希望，于是他告别了维尔福，赶快去告诉老唐太斯，说不久就可以看见他的儿子了。 
维尔福却并没有履行诺言把信送到巴黎去，而是小心地把那封现在看来可以救唐太斯但未来却极易危害他的请愿书保存了起来，以等待那件似乎并非不可能的事情的发生，好二次复辟。 
“这样唐太斯仍然还是犯人，被埋没在黑牢的深处，他根本听不到路易十八垮台的消息，以及帝国倾覆时那更可怕的骚动。 
但维尔福却用警觉的目光注视着一切，用警觉的耳朵倾听着一切。在拿破仑复位的“百日”期间，莫雷尔曾先后两次提出他的请求，但都被维尔福甜言蜜语地把他哄骗走了。最后发生了滑铁卢之战，莫雷尔就不再来了。他已尽了他力所能及的一切，这时任何新的尝试不仅徒劳无益而且很可能会有害他自己。 
路易十八又重新登上了王位。在马赛能引起维尔福内心愧疚的记忆太多了，所以他请求并获准了调任图卢兹检察官一职，两星期后，他就和蕾妮结婚了，岳父在宫廷里比以前更显赫了。这就说明了在“百日”期间和滑铁卢战役以后，唐太斯为什么会依旧被关在牢里，好象上帝已把他忘了似的，但实际上人们并没有忘记他。 
腾格拉尔很清楚他给了唐太斯那一击是多么厉害，他象所有做贼心虚但又要小聪明的人一样，诿称这是天意。当拿破仑回到巴黎以后，腾格拉尔害怕极了，唯恐唐太斯会随时来复仇，于是他便把自己希望出海的想法告诉了莫雷尔先生，得到了一封介绍信，把他介绍给了一个西班牙商人，三月底就到那儿去供职，那是在拿破仑回来后的第十一二天。他当时离开马赛后去了马德里，此后就没有听到他的消息了。 
弗尔南多只知道唐太斯已从眼前消失了，其他的事他则一概不知。到底唐太斯怎么样了，他也懒得去问。只是，在他情敌不在的这一期间，他时时苦思冥想，有时想到编个离开的理由来欺骗美茜蒂丝，有时想迁移或强行把她带走。于是他常常忧郁地，一动不动地坐在弗罗湾的顶端，从那儿可以同时望到马赛和迦太罗尼亚人村，他是在守望着一个英俊的年轻人出现在他眼前，那个人就是他的复仇使者。弗尔南多已下定决心：他要一枪打死唐太斯，然后自杀。但他错了，他这个人是不会自杀的，因为他还抱有某种希望。 
在这个时候，帝国作了最后一次呼吁，法国境内所有能拿起武器的男子都赶去听从他们皇帝的号召了，弗尔南多和其他的人一同离开了马赛，但心里却怀着一个可怕的念头，深恐他的敌人会在他不在的时候回来，而同美茜蒂丝结了婚。假若弗尔南多真的想自杀，则在他离开美茜蒂丝的时候就该这样做的了。他对她的关心，以及他对她的不幸所表示的同情，都产生了效果。美茜蒂丝一向象兄妹般地深爱着弗尔南多，现在这份情谊上又加上了一份感激之情。 
“哥哥，”她把行囊挂上他肩头的时候说，“你要自己当心一点，因为如果你再永远离开了我，那我在这个世界上就只有孤零零的一个人了。”这些话在弗尔南多心中注入了一线希望。如果唐太斯不回来的话，总有一天，美茜蒂丝也许就是他的了。 
现在只剩下美茜蒂丝一个人孤零零地来面对这从未如此荒凉的大平原，和从未如此一望无际的大海了。她天天以泪洗面，人们看见她有时不断地在迦太罗尼亚人住的这个小村子周围徘徊，有时看见她一动不动地象一尊石像似的站着，呆望着马赛；又有时看见她坐在海边，倾听那如同自己的哀愁那样永恒的海的呻吟，她常常自问，是否应该让自己投入海洋那无底的深渊里，也许这样可以比忍受如此焦灼的等待更好一些。 
她并非缺乏这样做的勇气，而是她的宗教观念帮了她的忙，救了她的命。 
卡德鲁斯也象弗尔南多一样应征入伍了，但由于他已经结婚，且比弗尔南多大八岁，所以仅被派去驻守边疆。老唐太斯一直是靠希望支撑着的，拿破仑一倒，全部希望都成了泡影。在和他的儿子分离五个月以后，几乎也可以说就在他儿子被捕的那一刻，他就在美茜蒂丝的怀里咽下了最后一口气。莫雷尔先生不仅负担了他的全部丧葬费，还把那可怜的老人生前所借的几笔小债也还清了。 
这样做不仅需要出于慈悲心，而且也需要勇气，——因为象唐太斯这样危险的一个拿破仑分子，即使你去帮助他临终的父亲，也会被人当作一个罪名来污蔑的。 
Chapter 14 The Two Prisoners
 A YEAR AFTER Louis XVIII's restoration, a visit was made by the inspector-general of prisons. Dantès in his cell heard the noise of preparation,--sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner, who could hear the plash of the drop of water that every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living; but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world, that he looked upon himself as dead. 
The inspector visited, one after another, the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners, whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. He inquired how they were fed, and if they had any request to make. The universal response was, that the fare was detestable, and that they wanted to be set free. 
The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. They shook their heads. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. 
"I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits; when you see one prisoner, you see all,--always the same thing,--ill fed and innocent. Are there any others?" 
"Yes; the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons." 
"Let us visit them," said the inspector with an air of fatigue. "We must play the farce to the end. Let us see the dungeons." 
"Let us first send for two soldiers," said the governor. "The prisoners sometimes, through mere uneasiness of life, and in order to be sentenced to death, commit acts of useless violence, and you might fall a victim." 
"Take all needful precautions," replied the inspector. 
Two soldiers were accordingly sent for, and the inspector descended a stairway, so foul, so humid, so dark, as to be loathsome to sight, smell, and respiration. 
"Oh," cried the inspector, "who can live here?" 
"A most dangerous conspirator, a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over, as he is daring and resolute." 
"He is alone?" 
"Certainly." 
"How long his he been there?" 
"Nearly a year." 
"Was he placed here when he first arrived?" 
"No; not until he attempted to kill the turnkey, who took his food to him." 
"To kill the turnkey?" 
"Yes, the very one who is lighting us. Is it not true, Antoine?" asked the governor. 
"True enough; he wanted to kill me!" returned the turnkey. 
"He must be mad," said the inspector. 
"He is worse than that,--he is a devil!" returned the turnkey. 
"Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. 
"Oh, no; it is useless. Besides, he is almost mad now, and in another year he will be quite so." 
"So much the better for him,--he will suffer less," said the inspector. He was, as this remark shows, a man full of philanthropy, and in every way fit for his office. 
"You are right, sir," replied the governor; "and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant, and to which you descend by another stair, an abbé, formerly leader of a party in Italy, who has been here since 1811, and in 1813 he went mad, and the change is astonishing. He used to weep, he now laughs; he grew thin, he now grows fat. You had better see him, for his madness is amusing." 
"I will see them both," returned the inspector; "I must conscientiously perform my duty." This was the inspector's first visit; he wished to display his authority. 
"Let us visit this one first," added he. 
"By all means," replied the governor, and he signed to the turnkey to open the door. At the sound of the key turning in the lock, and the creaking of the hinges, Dantès, who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon, whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above, raised his head. Seeing a stranger, escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers, and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded, Dantès, who guessed the truth, and that the moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come, sprang forward with clasped hands. 
The soldiers interposed their bayonets, for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector, and the latter recoiled two or three steps. Dantès saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. Then, infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice, he addressed the inspector, and sought to inspire him with pity. 
The inspector listened attentively; then, turning to the governor, observed, "He will become religious--he is already more gentle; he is afraid, and retreated before the bayonets--madmen are not afraid of anything; I made some curious observations on this at Charenton." Then, turning to the prisoner, "What is it you want?" said he. 
"I want to know what crime I have committed--to be tried; and if I am guilty, to be shot; if innocent, to be set at liberty." 
"Are you well fed?" said the inspector. 
"I believe so; I don't know; it's of no consequence. What matters really, not only to me, but to officers of justice and the king, is that an innocent man should languish in prison, the victim of an infamous denunciation, to die here cursing his executioners." 
"You are very humble to-day," remarked the governor; "you are not so always; the other day, for instance, when you tried to kill the turnkey." 
"It is true, sir, and I beg his pardon, for he his always been very good to me, but I was mad." 
"And you are not so any longer?" 
"No; captivity his subdued me--I have been here so long." 
"So long?--when were you arrested, then?" asked the inspector. 
"The 28th of February, 1815, at half-past two in the afternoon." 
"To-day is the 30th of July, 1816,--why it is but seventeen months." 
"Only seventeen months," replied Dantès. "Oh, you do not know what is seventeen months in prison!--seventeen ages rather, especially to a man who, like me, had arrived at the summit of his ambition--to a man, who, like me, was on the point of marrying a woman he adored, who saw an honorable career opened before him, and who loses all in an instant--who sees his prospects destroyed, and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced wife, and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean, is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. Have pity on me, then, and ask for me, not intelligence, but a trial; not pardon, but a verdict--a trial, sir, I ask only for a trial; that, surely, cannot be denied to one who is accused!" 
"We shall see," said the inspector; then, turning to the governor, "On my word, the poor devil touches me. You must show me the proofs against him." 
"Certainly; but you will find terrible charges." 
"Monsieur," continued Dantès, "I know it is not in your power to release me; but you can plead for me--you can have me tried--and that is all I ask. Let me know my crime, and the reason why I was condemned. Uncertainty is worse than all." 
"Go on with the lights," said the inspector. 
"Monsieur," cried Dantès, "I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity; tell me at least to hope." 
"I cannot tell you that," replied the inspector; "I can only promise to examine into your case." 
"Oh, I am free--then I am saved!" 
"Who arrested you?" 
"M. Villefort. See him, and hear what he says." 
"M. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles; he is now at Toulouse." 
"I am no longer surprised at my detention," murmured Dantès, "since my only protector is removed." 
"Had M. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?" 
"None; on the contrary, he was very kind to me." 
"I can, then, rely on the notes he has left concerning you?" 
"Entirely." 
"That is well; wait patiently, then." Dantès fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly. The door closed; but this time a fresh inmate was left with Dantès--hope. 
"Will you see the register at once," asked the governor, "or proceed to the other cell?" 
"Let us visit them all," said the inspector. "If I once went up those stairs. I should never have the courage to come down again." 
"Ah, this one is not like the other, and his madness is less affecting than this one's display of reason." 
"What is his folly?" 
"He fancies he possesses an immense treasure. The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release; the second, two; the third, three; and so on progressively. He is now in his fifth year of captivity; he will ask to speak to you in private, and offer you five millions." 
"How curious!--what is his name?" 
"The Abbé Faria." 
"No. 27," said the inspector. 
"It is here; unlock the door, Antoine." The turnkey obeyed, and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the "mad abbé." 
In the centre of the cell, in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall, sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines, and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him. 
He did not move at the sound of the door, and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell; then, raising his head, he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed, and wrapped it round him. 
"What is it you want?" said the inspector. 
"I, monsieur," replied the abbé with an air of surprise--"I want nothing." 
"You do not understand," continued the inspector; "I am sent here by government to visit the prison, and hear the requests of the prisoners." 
"Oh, that is different," cried the abbé; "and we shall understand each other, I hope." 
"There, now," whispered the governor, "it is just as I told you." 
"Monsieur," continued the prisoner, "I am the Abbé Faria, born at Rome. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary; I was arrested, why, I know not, toward the beginning of the year 1811; since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government." 
"Why from the French government?" 
"Because I was arrested at Piombino, and I presume that, like Milan and Florence, Piombino has become the capital of some French department." 
"Ah," said the inspector, "you have not the latest news from Italy?" 
"My information dates from the day on which I was arrested," returned the Abbé Faria; "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for his infant son, I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli and C?sar Borgia, which was to make Italy a united kingdom." 
"Monsieur," returned the inspector, "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly." 
"It is the only means of rendering Italy strong, happy, and independent." 
"Very possibly; only I am not come to discuss politics, but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of." 
"The food is the same as in other prisons,--that is, very bad; the lodging is very unhealthful, but, on the whole, passable for a dungeon; but it is not that which I wish to speak of, but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance." 
"We are coming to the point," whispered the governor. 
"It is for that reason I am delighted to see you," continued the abbé, "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation, which, if it succeeded, would possibly change Newton's system. Could you allow me a few words in private." 
"What did I tell you?" said the governor. 
"You knew him," returned the inspector with a smile. 
"What you ask is impossible, monsieur," continued he, addressing Faria. 
"But," said the abbé, "I would speak to you of a large sum, amounting to five millions." 
"The very sum you named," whispered the inspector in his turn. 
"However," continued Faria, seeing that the inspector was about to depart, "it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone; the governor can be present." 
"Unfortunately," said the governor, "I know beforehand what you are about to say; it concerns your treasures, does it not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity. 
"Of course," said he; "of what else should I speak?" 
"Mr. Inspector," continued the governor, "I can tell you the story as well as he, for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years." 
"That proves," returned the abbé, "that you are like those of Holy Writ, who having ears hear not, and having eyes see not." 
"My dear sir, the government is rich and does not want your treasures," replied the inspector; "keep them until you are liberated." The abbé's eyes glistened; he seized the inspector's hand. 
"But what if I am not liberated," cried he, "and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions, and I will content myself with the rest, if they will only give me my liberty." 
"On my word," said the inspector in a low tone, "had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad, I should believe what he says." 
"I am not mad," replied Faria, with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners. "The treasure I speak of really exists, and I offer to sign an agreement with you, in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig; and if I deceive you, bring me here again,--I ask no more." 
The governor laughed. "Is the spot far from here?" 
"A hundred leagues." 
"It is not ill-planned," said the governor. "If all the prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred leagues, and their guardians consented to accompany them, they would have a capital chance of escaping." 
"The scheme is well known," said the inspector; "and the abbé's plan has not even the merit of originality." 
Then turning to Faria--"I inquired if you are well fed?" said he. 
"Swear to me," replied Faria, "to free me if what I tell you prove true, and I will stay here while you go to the spot." 
"Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. 
"Monsieur, you run no risk, for, as I told you, I will stay here; so there is no chance of my escaping." 
"You do not reply to my question," replied the inspector impatiently. 
"Nor you to mine," cried the abbé. "You will not accept my gold; I will keep it for myself. You refuse me my liberty; God will give it me." And the abbé, casting away his coverlet, resumed his place, and continued his calculations. 
"What is he doing there?" said the inspector. 
"Counting his treasures," replied the governor. 
Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt. They went out. The turnkey closed the door behind them. 
"He was wealthy once, perhaps?" said the inspector. 
"Or dreamed he was, and awoke mad." 
"After all," said the inspector, "if he had been rich, he would not have been here." So the matter ended for the Abbé Faria. He remained in his cell, and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity. 
Caligula or Nero, those treasure-seekers, those desirers of the impossible, would have accorded to the poor wretch, in exchange for his wealth, the liberty he so earnestly prayed for. But the kings of modern times, restrained by the limits of mere probability, have neither courage nor desire. They fear the ear that hears their orders, and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter, and shielded by their birth; but nowadays they are not inviolable. 
It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture, so madness is always concealed in its cell, from whence, should it depart, it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital, where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. The very madness of the Abbé Faria, gone mad in prison, condemned him to perpetual captivity. 
The inspector kept his word with Dantès; he examined the register, and found the following note concerning him:-- 
Edmond Dantès: 
Violent Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from Elba. 
The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. 
This note was in a different hand from the rest, which showed that it had been added since his confinement. The inspector could not contend against this accusation; he simply wrote,--"Nothing to be done." 
This visit had infused new vigor into Dantès; he had, till then, forgotten the date; but now, with a fragment of plaster, he wrote the date, 30th July, 1816, and made a mark every day, in order not to lose his reckoning again. Days and weeks passed away, then months--Dantès still waited; he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. This fortnight expired, he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris, and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished, he therefore fixed three months; three months passed away, then six more. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place, and Dantès began to fancy the inspector's visit but a dream, an illusion of the brain. 
At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred; he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham. He took with him several of his subordinates, and amongst them Dantès' jailer. A new governor arrived; it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners; he learned their numbers instead. This horrible place contained fifty cells; their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell, and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantès--he was now number 34.  
路易十八复位后一年左右，监狱巡查员到伊夫堡来作了一次视察。唐太斯从他那幽深的地牢里听到了那准备迎接巡查员的嘈杂的声音，在地牢里的一般是听不见的，只有听惯了蜘蛛在夜的静寂里织网，凝聚在黑牢顶上的水珠间歇的滴声犯人的耳朵才能听得出来。他猜想生活在自由之中的那些人发生什么不平常的事了。他已很久没同外界发生任何接触了，以致他把自己看作了死人。 
巡查员依次视察大牢单间牢房和地牢，有几个犯人，由于他们的行为良好或愚蠢得到了当局的怜悯。巡查员问他们的伙食如何，有什么要求没有。他们一致回答说伙食太坏，要求恢复自由。巡查员又问他们还有什么别的要求没有。他们摇摇头！他们除了自由以外还能希求什么别的呢？巡查员微笑着转过身来对监狱长说：“我真不明白上面为什么要作这些无用的视察，你见过一个犯人，就等于见到了全体犯人，说得总是老一套，什么伙食坏啦，冤枉啦。还有别的犯人吗？” 
“有，危险的犯人和发疯的犯人都在地牢里。” 
“我们去看看，”巡察查员带着疲乏的神色说。“我得完成我的任务。我们下去吧。” 
“请等一下，我们先派两个士兵去，”监狱长说。“那些犯人有时只为了活得不耐烦，想判个死刑，就会毫无意义地走极端，那样你或许可能成为一个牺牲品的。” 
“必须采取一切必要的防范措施。”巡查员说。 
于是便找来了两个兵，巡查员他们顺着一条污臭，潮湿，黑暗的楼梯往下走，仅走过这些地方，就已使眼睛，鼻子和呼吸感到很难受了。 
“噢！”巡查员走到中途停下来说道，“见什么鬼，是谁住在这种地方？” 
“一个最危险的谋反分子，一个我们奉命要特别严加看守的人，这个家伙什么都干得出。” 
“就他一个人吗？” 
“当然罗。” 
“他到这儿多久了？” 
“有一年了吧。” 
“他一来就关在这种地方吗？” 
“不，是他想杀死一狱卒以后才关到这里来的。” 
“他想杀死狱卒？” 
“是呀，就是替我们掌灯的这一个。对不对，安多尼？” 
“对，他要杀我！”狱卒回答。 
“他一定是发疯了。”巡察说。 
“他比疯子还糟糕——他是一个恶鬼！”狱卒答道。 
“您要我训斥他一顿吗？”巡查员问。 
“噢，不必了，这是没有用的。他已经受够罪的了。而且，他现在差不多已经疯了，再过一年，就会变成一个十足的疯子的。” 
“疯了对他来说反而好些，——他的痛苦会少一些。”巡查员说。从这句话上读者可以看出，巡查员是一个较有人情味的人，做他这份差事很合适。 
“您说得不错，先生，”监狱长说，“这句话说明您对这一行很有研究，现在，大约再走二十步，下一层楼梯，我们就可以在一间地牢里看见一个老神甫，他原是意大利一个政党的领袖，从一八一一年起他就在这儿了，一八一三年发了疯，从那时起，他就来了一个惊人的转变。他时而哭，时而笑。以前愈来愈瘦，现在胖起来了。您最好还是去看看他，别去看那个，因为他疯得很有趣。” 
“两个我都要看，”巡查员回答，“我做事不能敷衍唐塞。” 
这是巡查员第一次视察，他想显示一下他的权威。“我们先去看这一个。”他又说。 
“好的。”监狱长答道。于是他向狱卒示意，叫他打开牢门。 
听到钥匙在锁里的转动的声音以及铰链的嘎嘎声，那本来踯伏在地牢的一角，带着说不出的快乐在享受从铁栅里射进来的一线微光的唐太斯，他抬起头来。看到了一个陌生人，两个狱卒掌着灯，还有两个兵陪着他，而且监狱长还脱了帽对他讲话，唐太斯猜到来者是何许人，知道他向上层当局申诉的时机到了，于是合着双手跳向前去。 
两个兵急忙用他们的刺刀向前一挡，因为他们以为他要来伤害巡查员，巡查员也退后了两三步。唐太斯看出自己被人当作是一个危险的犯人了。于是，他脸上做了一个心地最温顺，最卑微的人所能有的全部表情，用一种令人非常惊讶的虔敬的雄辩进行了一番表白，想打动巡查员的心。 
巡查员留神倾听着，然后转向监狱长，说道：“他会皈依宗教的，他已经驯服多了。他很害怕，看见刺刀就后退，疯子是什么都不怕的。这一点在夏朗东曾出于好奇心而观察过几次。” 
然后他又转向犯人，“你有什么要求？”他说。 
“我要求知道我犯了什么罪，我要求公开审判，总而言之，我要求：假如我有罪，就枪毙我，假如我是冤枉的，就该让我自由。” 
“你的伙食怎么样？”巡查员说。 
“还可以，我也不知道，但那没有关系。真正重要的是，一个清白无辜的人，不该是一次卑鄙的告密的牺牲品，不该就这样一直咒骂着他的刽子手而老死在狱中，这不仅关系到我这个不幸的犯人，还关系到司法长官，更关系到统治我们的国王。” 
“你今天倒非常恭顺，”监狱长说。“但你并不总是这样的，譬如说，那一天，你就要想杀死狱卒。” 
“不错，先生，我请他原谅，因为他一向待我很好，我当时非常恼怒，简直是发疯啦。” 
“你现在不那样了吗？” 
“不了，监狱生活已经使我低头屈膝，俯首贴耳了。我来这儿已经这么久啦。” 
“这么久啦？你是什么时候被捕的？”巡查员问。 
“一八一五年二月二十八日，下午两点半钟。” 
“今天是一八一六年七月三十。咦，才十七个月呀。” 
“才十七个月！”唐太斯答道。“噢，您不知道在监狱里的十七个月意味着什么！那简直等于说十七个世纪，尤其是象我这样一个即将得到幸福，将和他所喜欢的女子结婚的人，他看到光明的前途就在他眼前而霎那间竟一切都失去了，他从最欢乐的白天一下子堕入了无穷无尽的黑夜。他看到自己的前途给毁灭了，他不知道他未婚妻的命运现在怎样了，也不知道他年老的父亲究竟是否还活着！十七个月的监狱生活对一个呼吸惯了海上的空气，过惯了水手的独立生活，看惯了海阔天空，无拘无束的人是太难过了！先生，即使是犯了人类史上最令人发指的罪行，十七个月的禁闭也是惩罚得太重了。可怜可怜我吧，我不求赦罪，只求公开审判。先生，我只要求见一见法官，他们是不该拒绝审问嫌疑犯的。” 
“我们研究研究吧，”巡查员说，然后转向监狱长，“凭良心说，这个可怜的犯人真使我有点感动了。你一定得把他的档案给我看看。” 
“当然可以，但您只会看到对他不利的可怕的记录。” 
“先生，”唐太斯又说，“我知道您无权释放我的，但您可以代我向上面提出请求，您可以使我受审，我所要求的仅此而已。” 
“你说明白一点。”巡查员说。 
“先生，”唐太斯大声说道，“从您的声音里我可以听出您已经被怜悯心所感动了，请告诉我，至少我有希望吧。” 
“我还不能这样说，”巡查员答道，“我只能答应调查一下你的案子。” 
“噢，那么我自由了！我得救了！” 
“是谁下令逮捕你的？” 
“是维尔福先生。请去见他，听他说些什么。” 
“维尔福先生已不在马赛了，他现在在图卢兹。” 
“怪不得我迟迟不放，”唐太斯喃喃地说，“原来我唯一的保护人调走了。” 
“他对你有没有什么私人的恩怨？” 
“一点没有，正相反，他对我非常好。” 
“那么，关于你的事，我可以信赖他所留下来的记录或他给我的意见了？” 
“绝对可信。” 
“很好，那么，耐心等着吧。” 
唐太斯跪下来，喃喃地祷告着，他祈祷上帝赐福于这个象救世主去拯救地狱里的灵魂一样到他狱中来的这个人。门又关上了，但现在唐太斯心中又怀有了一个新来的希望。 
“您是想马上看那档案呢，还是先去看看别的牢房？”监狱长问。 
“我们先把牢房看完了再说吧，”巡查员说。“我一旦上去了，恐怕就没有勇气再下来了。” 
“嗯，这个犯人，不象那一个。他疯得跟他的邻居不一样，也不那么感动人。” 
“他有什么怪念头？” 
“他只认为他有着一处极大的宝藏。头一年，他提议献给政府一百万让他自由，第二年，两百万，第三年，三百万，不断地这样加上去。现在他入狱已经是五个年头了，他一定会要求和您密谈，给您五百万的。” 
“哦，那倒的确很有趣。这位大富翁叫什么名字？” 
“法利亚神甫。” 
“二十七号。”巡查员说。 
“就是这里，打开门，安多尼。” 
狱卒遵命打开了牢门，巡查员好奇地向“疯神甫”的牢房里探视着。在这个地牢的中央，有一个用从墙壁上挖下来的石灰画成的圆圈，圆圈里坐着一个人，他的衣服已成了碎布条，难以遮住身体了。他正在圆圈里划几何线，那神态就象阿基米德当马赛鲁斯的兵来杀他时的那样全神贯注。尽管开门的声音很响，但他却一动也不动，继续演算他的问题，直到火炬的光以稀有的光芒照亮了地牢阴暗的墙壁，他才抬起头来，很惊奇地发现他的地牢里竟来了这么多人。他急忙从他的床上抓过被单，把他自己裹了起来。 
“你有什么要求？”巡查员问。 
“我吗，先生！”神甫带着一种惊愕的神气答道，“我什么要求也没有。” 
“你没弄明白，”巡查员又说，“我是当局派来视察监狱，听取犯人的要求的。” 
“哦，那就不同了，”神甫大声说，“我希望我们大家能互想谅解。” 
“又来了，监狱长低声说道，“就象我告诉过您的那样，他又要开始讲了。” 
“先生，”犯人继续说道，“我是法里亚神甫，罗马人。我曾给红衣主教斯巴达当过二十年秘书。我是在一八一一年被捕的，是什么原因我却不知道。从那时起，我就在向意法两国政府要求还我自由。” 
“为什么要向法国政府要求呢？” 
  
  
“因为我是在皮昂比诺被捕的，而据我推测，象梅朗和佛罗伦萨一样，皮昂比诺已成为法国所属的省会了。” 
巡查员和监狱长相视而笑。 
“见鬼！亲爱的，”巡察员说，“你从意大利得来的新闻已经是老皇历啦！” 
“这是根据我被捕那一天的消息推测的，”法利亚神甫答道。“既然皇帝要为他的儿子建立罗马王国，我想他大概也已实现了马基难里和凯撒·布琪亚的梦想，把意大利变成了一个统一的王国了吧。” 
“先生，”巡查员回答说，“上帝已经把你这个看来竭诚支持的计划改变过了。” 
“这可是使意大利获得幸福和独立和唯一方法呀。” 
“可能是吧，但我不是来和你讨论意大利政治的，我是来问你，你对于吃的和住的有什么要求吗。” 
“吃的东西和其他监狱一样，也就是说，坏极了，住的地方非常不卫生，但既然是地牢，也总算还过得去。这都没什么关系。我要讲的是一个秘密，我所要揭露的秘密可是极其重要的。” 
“那一套又来了。”监狱长耳语道。 
“为了那个理由，我很高兴见到您，”神甫继续说道，“尽管您刚才打断了我一次最重要的演算，如果那个演算成功，可能会把牛顿的学说都改变过来。您能允许我同您私下谈几句话吗？” 
“我说得怎么样？”监狱长说。 
“你的确了解。”巡查员回答道。 
“你所要求的事是不可能的，先生。”他对法利亚说道。 
“可是，神甫说，“我要和您说的可是很大一笔钱，达五百万呢。” 
“正是你所说的那个数目。”这次是巡查员对监狱长耳语了。 
“当然，法里亚看到巡查员已想走开，就继续说，“我们也并非绝对要单独谈话，监狱长也可以在场。” 
“不幸的是，”监狱长说，“我早已知道你要说什么了，是关于你的宝藏，是不是？” 
法里亚眼睛盯住他，那种表情足以使任何人都相信他是神志清楚的。“当然罗，”他说，“除此之外我还有什么可说的呢？” 
“巡查员先生，监狱长又说，“那个故事我也可以告诉您，因为它已经在我耳边喋喋不休了四五年了。” 
“那就证明，”神甫说道。“你正如《圣经》上所说的那些人，他们视而不见，听而不闻。” 
“政府不需要你的宝藏，”巡查员说道：“留着吧，等你释放以后自己享用好了。” 
神甫的眼睛闪闪发光，他一把抓住巡查员的手。“可以假如我出不了狱呢，”他大声说道。“假如，偏偏不讲公道，我被老关在这间地牢里，假如我死在这儿而不曾告诉过任何人我的秘密，则那个宝藏不是就白白地丧失了吗？”倒不如由政府享一点利益，我自己也享受一点，那不更好吗？”我情愿出到六百万，先生，是的，我愿意放弃六百万，余下的那些我也就满足了，只要换来我的自由。” 
“老实说，”巡查员低声说道，“要不是你事先早告诉我这个人是个疯子，说不定我真会相信他说的话呢。” 
“我没有疯！”法里亚大声回答说道，他有着犯人们那特有的敏锐的听觉，把巡查员所说的每一个字都听得清清楚楚。 
“我所说的宝藏真有其事，我提议来签订一个协议，内容说明，我答应领你们到那个地方去，由你们来挖，假如我欺骗了你们，就把我再带回到这儿来，我不求别的。” 
监狱长大笑起来。“那个地方离这儿远吗？” 
“三百里。” 
“这个主意倒不坏，”监狱长说道。“假如每个犯人都想作一次三百里的旅行，而他们的看守又答应陪他们去，他们倒是有了一个很妙的逃跑的机会了。” 
“这个办法并不新奇，巡查员说道，“神甫先生看来是不能享受发明权了。”然后他又转向法里亚，“我已经问过了你的伙食怎么样？”他说。 
“请对我发个誓，”法里亚答道，“假如我对您讲的话证明是真实的话，就一定要让我自由，那么你们去那儿，我可以留在这儿等。” 
“你的伙食怎么样？”巡查员又问了一遍。 
“先生，你们毫无危险呀，因为，如我所说的，我愿意在这儿等，那我就不会有逃跑的机会啦。” 
“你还没回答我的问题呢。”巡查员不耐烦地说道。 
“你也没回答我的呀，”神甫大声说道。“那以，你也该受诅咒！象其他那些不肯相信我的傻瓜一样。你不愿意接受我的金子，我就留着给自己。你不肯给我自由，上帝会给我的。你们走吧！我没什么可说的了。”于是神甫扔下他的床单，又坐回到了老地方，继续进行他的演算去了。 
“他在那儿干什么？” 
“在计算他的宝藏呢。”监狱长回答说。 
法里亚以极其轻蔑的一瞥回敬了这句讽刺他的话。 
他们走了出去，狱卒在他们身后把门又锁上了。 
“或许他曾一度有过钱。”巡查员说。 
“也许是做梦发了财，醒来后就疯了。” 
“总而言之，”巡查员说，“假如他有钱，他就不会到这儿来了。”这句话坦白道出了当时的腐败情形。 
法里亚神甫的这次遭遇就这样结束了。他依旧还是住在他的地牢里，这次视察只是更加使人相信他是个疯子了。 
假如神甫遭到的是那些热衷于寻找宝藏的人，那些认为天下没有办不到之事的狂想者，如凯力球垃王或尼罗王，则他们就会答应这个可怜的人，允许他以他的财富来换取他迫切祈求得到的自由和空气。但近代的国王，他们生活的天地是这样狭窄，已不再有勇气狂想了。从前，国王都相信他们是天神的儿子，或至少如此自以为是，而且多少还带着点他们父亲天神的风度。而现在，云层后面的变幻虽尚无法控制，但国王却已都自视为常人了。 
要专制政府允许那些牺牲在他人的政权之下的重见天日，一向是和他们的政策相违背的。犯人被毒打得肢体不全，血肉模糊，法庭当然不愿意他再被人看见，疯子总是被藏在地牢里的，即使让他出狱，也不过是往某个阴气沉沉的医院里一送，狱卒送他到那儿时往往只是一具变了形的人体残骸了，连医生也认不出这还是一个人，还留有一点思想。法里亚神是在监狱里发疯的，单凭他的发疯就足以判他无期徒刑。 
巡查员实践了他对唐太斯的诺言。他检查了档案，找到了下面这张关于他的记录： 
爱德蒙·唐太斯拿破仑党分子，曾负责协助逆贼自厄尔巴岛归来。应严加看守，小心戒备。 
这条记录的笔迹和其它的不同，证明是在他入狱以后附加的。巡查员面对眼前记录上这个无法抗争的罪名，只得批上一句，“无需复议。” 
那次巡查又在唐太斯的心中重新燃起了希望。自从入狱以来，他已忘记了计算日期。但巡查员给了他一个新的日期，他没有忘记。他用一块从屋顶上掉下来的石灰在墙上写道，“一八一六年七月三十日”，从那时起，他每天做一个记号，以免再把日子忘掉。日子一天天，一个星期一个星期地过去了，后来是一个月一个月地过去了，唐太斯仍然处在期待之中。他最初预计可在两个星期以内释放。可是两个星期过去然后他想到巡查员可在回到巴黎以前是不会有所行动的，而他要在巡查完毕以后才能回到那儿，所以他又定期为三个月。但三个月也过去了，三个月之后又过了六个月。在这么长一段时间里，没有发生任何有利的转变。于是唐太斯开始幻想，认为巡查员的视察只不过是一个梦，是脑子里的一个幻想而已。 
一年以后，监狱长被调任汉姆市长。他带走了几个下属，看管唐太斯的狱卒也在其中。新监狱长到任了。他认为记犯人的名字实在太麻烦了，所以干脆他用他们的号码来代替。这个可怕的地方一共有五十个房间，犯人们以他们的房间号码来命名。那不幸的青年已不再叫爱德蒙·唐太斯，他现在成了“三十四号”。 
Chapter 15 Number 34 and Number 27
 DANTèS PASSED through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope; then he began to doubt his own innocence, which justified in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation; and then, relaxing his sentiment of pride, he addressed his supplications, not to God, but to man. God is always the last resource. Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. 
Dantès asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another; for a change, however disadvantageous, was still a change, and would afford him some amusement. He entreated to be allowed to walk about, to have fresh air, books, and writing materials. His requests were not granted, but he went on asking all the same. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer, although the latter was, if possible, more taciturn than the old one; but still, to speak to a man, even though mute, was something. Dantès spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice; he had tried to speak when alone, but the sound of his voice terrified him. Often, before his captivity, Dantès, mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners, made up of thieves, vagabonds, and murderers. He now wished to be amongst them, in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer; he sighed for the galleys, with the infamous costume, the chain, and the brand on the shoulder. The galley-slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven, and saw each other. They were very happy. He besought the jailer one day to let him have a companion, were it even the mad abbé. 
The jailer, though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering, was yet a man. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so; and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor; but the latter sapiently imagined that Dantès wished to conspire or attempt an escape, and refused his request. Dantès had exhausted all human resources, and he then turned to God. 
All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten, returned; he recollected the prayers his mother had taught him, and discovered a new meaning in every word; for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words, until misfortune comes and the unhappy sufferer first understands the meaning of the sublime language in which he invokes the pity of heaven! He prayed, and prayed aloud, no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice, for he fell into a sort of ecstasy. He laid every action of his life before the Almighty, proposed tasks to accomplish, and at the end of every prayer introduced the entreaty oftener addressed to man than to God: "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." Yet in spite of his earnest prayers, Dantès remained a prisoner. 
Then gloom settled heavily upon him. Dantès was a man of great simplicity of thought, and without education; he could not, therefore, in the solitude of his dungeon, traverse in mental vision the history of the ages, bring to life the nations that had perished, and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination, and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in Martin's Babylonian pictures. He could not do this, he whose past life was so short, whose present so melancholy, and his future so doubtful. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction could come to his aid; his energetic spirit, that would have exalted in thus revisiting the past, was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. He clung to one idea--that of his happiness, destroyed, without apparent cause, by an unheard-of fatality; he considered and reconsidered this idea, devoured it (so to speak), as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. 
Rage supplanted religious fervor. Dantès uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror, dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked his anger upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least thing,--a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind, and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the Mene Tekel Upharsin of Belshazzar. He told himself that it was the enmity of man, and not the vengeance of heaven, that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine, and found them all insufficient, because after torture came death, and after death, if not repose, at least the boon of unconsciousness. 
By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death, and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink of misfortune, broods over ideas like these! 
Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye; but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of mental anguish is, however, less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. 
Edmond found some solace in these ideas. All his sorrows, all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Dantès reviewed his past life with composure, and, looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. 
"Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the sea rage and foam, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner, I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell." 
No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure, like a worn-out garment. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. Dantès had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates, who are hung up to the yard-arm; he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. He resolved to adopt the second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly four years had passed away; at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time. 
Dantès said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, and they will think that I have eaten them." 
He kept his word; twice a day he cast out, through the barred aperture, the provisions his jailer brought him--at first gayly, then with deliberation, and at last with regret. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. Hunger made viands once repugnant, now acceptable; he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time, and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat, of tainted fish, of black and mouldy bread. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair; then his dungeon seemed less sombre, his prospects less desperate. He was still young--he was only four or five and twenty--he had nearly fifty years to live. What unforseen events might not open his prison door, and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that, like a voluntary Tantalus, he refused himself; but he thought of his oath, and he would not break it. He persisted until, at last, he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. The next morning he could not see or hear; the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. Edmond hoped he was dying. 
Thus the day passed away. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content; the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased; his thirst had abated; when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will-o'-the-wisps that play about the marshes. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! 
Suddenly, about nine o'clock in the evening, Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. 
So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison, that their noise did not, in general, awake him; but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties, or whether the noise was really louder than usual, Edmond raised his head and listened. It was a continual scratching, as if made by a huge claw, a powerful tooth, or some iron instrument attacking the stones. 
Although weakened, the young man's brain instantly responded to the idea that haunts all prisoners--liberty! It seemed to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him, and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him, and striving to diminish the distance that separated them. 
No, no, doubtless he was deceived, and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death! 
Edmond still heard the sound. It lasted nearly three hours; he then heard a noise of something falling, and all was silent. 
Some hours afterwards it began again, nearer and more distinct. Edmond was intensely interested. Suddenly the jailer entered. 
For a week since he had resolved to die, and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose, Edmond had not spoken to the attendant, had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him, and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously at him; but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it, and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last moments. 
The jailer brought him his breakfast. Dantès raised himself up and began to talk about everything; about the bad quality of the food, about the coldness of his dungeon, grumbling and complaining, in order to have an excuse for speaking louder, and wearying the patience of his jailer, who out of kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his prisoner. 
Fortunately, he fancied that Dantès was delirious; and placing the food on the rickety table, he withdrew. Edmond listened, and the sound became more and more distinct. 
"There can be no doubt about it," thought he; "it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. Oh, if I were only there to help him!" Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind, so used to misfortune, that it was scarcely capable of hope--the idea that the noise was made by workmen the governor had ordered to repair the neighboring dungeon. 
It was easy to ascertain this; but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the noise, and watch his countenance as he listened; but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short-lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? Unfortunately, Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. 
He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to his judgment. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought, rose, staggered towards it, raised the vessel to his lips, and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour, and returned to his couch--he did not wish to die. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected--he could think, and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. Then he said to himself, "I must put this to the test, but without compromising anybody. If it is a workman, I need but knock against the wall, and he will cease to work, in order to find out who is knocking, and why he does so; but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor, he will soon resume it. If, on the contrary, it is a prisoner, the noise I make will alarm him, he will cease, and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep." 
Edmond rose again, but this time his legs did not tremble, and his sight was clear; he went to a corner of his dungeon, detached a stone, and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came. He struck thrice. At the first blow the sound ceased, as if by magic. 
Edmond listened intently; an hour passed, two hours passed, and no sound was heard from the wall--all was silent there. 
Full of hope, Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water, and, thanks to the vigor of his constitution, found himself well-nigh recovered. 
The day passed away in utter silence--night came without recurrence of the noise. 
"It is a prisoner," said Edmond joyfully. The night passed in perfect silence. Edmond did not close his eyes. 
In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions--he had already devoured those of the previous day; he ate these listening anxiously for the sound, walking round and round his cell, shaking the iron bars of the loophole, restoring vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise, and so preparing himself for his future destiny. At intervals he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again, and grew impatient at the prudence of the prisoner, who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself. 
Three days passed--seventy-two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes! 
At length one evening, as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night, Dantès, with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall, fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones. He moved away, walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts, and then went back and listened. 
The matter was no longer doubtful. Something was at work on the other side of the wall; the prisoner had discovered the danger, and had substituted a lever for a chisel. 
Encouraged by this discovery, Edmond determined to assist the indefatigable laborer. He began by moving his bed, and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall, penetrate the moist cement, and displace a stone. 
He saw nothing, he had no knife or sharp instrument, the window grating was of iron, but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. All his furniture consisted of a bed, a chair, a table, a pail, and a jug. The bed had iron clamps, but they were screwed to the wood, and it would have required a screw-driver to take them off. The table and chair had nothing, the pail had once possessed a handle, but that had been removed. 
Dantès had but one resource, which was to break the jug, and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. He let the jug fall on the floor, and it broke in pieces. 
Dantès concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed, leaving the rest on the floor. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. Edmond had all the night to work in, but in the darkness he could not do much, and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard; he pushed back his bed, and waited for day. 
All night he heard the subterranean workman, who continued to mine his way. Day came, the jailer entered. Dantès told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking, and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another, without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. He returned speedily, advised the prisoner to be more careful, and departed. 
Dantès heard joyfully the key grate in the lock; he listened until the sound of steps died away, and then, hastily displacing his bed, saw by the faint light that penetrated into his cell, that he had labored uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it. 
The damp had rendered it friable, and Dantès was able to break it off--in small morsels, it is true, but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful; a mathematician might have calculated that in two years, supposing that the rock was not encountered, a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad, might be formed. 
The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes, prayer, and despondency. During the six years that he had been imprisoned, what might he not have accomplished? 
In three days he had succeeded, with the utmost precaution, in removing the cement, and exposing the stone-work. The wall was built of rough stones, among which, to give strength to the structure, blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. It was one of these he had uncovered, and which he must remove from its socket. 
Dantès strove to do this with his nails, but they were too weak. The fragments of the jug broke, and after an hour of useless toil, he paused. 
Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning, and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him--he smiled, and the perspiration dried on his forehead. 
The jailer always brought Dantès' soup in an iron saucepan; this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners, for Dantès had noticed that it was either quite full, or half empty, according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first. 
The handle of this saucepan was of iron; Dantès would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it. 
The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantès' plate, and Dantès, after eating his soup with a wooden spoon, washed the plate, which thus served for every day. Now when evening came Dantès put his plate on the ground near the door; the jailer, as he entered, stepped on it and broke it. 
This time he could not blame Dantès. He was wrong to leave it there, but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him. 
The jailer, therefore, only grumbled. Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into; Dantès' entire dinner service consisted of one plate--there was no alternative. 
"Leave the saucepan," said Dantès; "you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast." This advice was to the jailer's taste, as it spared him the necessity of making another trip. He left the saucepan. 
Dantès was beside himself with joy. He rapidly devoured his food, and after waiting an hour, lest the jailer should change his mind and return, he removed his bed, took the handle of the saucepan, inserted the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall, and employed it as a lever. A slight oscillation showed Dantès that all went well. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from the wall, leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter. 
Dantès carefully collected the plaster, carried it into the corner of his cell, and covered it with earth. Then, wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor, he continued to work without ceasing. At the dawn of day he replaced the stone, pushed his bed against the wall, and lay down. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread; the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. 
"Well, don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said Dantès. 
"No," replied the turnkey; "you destroy everything. First you break your jug, then you make me break your plate; if all the prisoners followed your example, the government would be ruined. I shall leave you the saucepan, and pour your soup into that. So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive." 
Dantès raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. He felt more gratitude for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. He had noticed, however, that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor; no matter, this was a greater reason for proceeding--if his neighbor would not come to him, he would go to his neighbor. All day he toiled on untiringly, and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived, Dantès straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could, and placed it in its accustomed place. The turnkey poured his ration of soup into it, together with the fish--for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. This would have been a method of reckoning time, had not Dantès long ceased to do so. Having poured out the soup, the turnkey retired. Dantès wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work. He listened--all was silent, as it had been for the last three days. Dantès sighed; it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. However, he toiled on all the night without being discouraged; but after two or three hours he encountered an obstacle. The iron made no impression, but met with a smooth surface; Dantès touched it, and found that it was a beam. This beam crossed, or rather blocked up, the hole Dantès had made; it was necessary, therefore, to dig above or under it. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. "O my God, my God!" murmured he, "I have so earnestly prayed to you, that I hoped my prayers had been heard. After having deprived me of my liberty, after having deprived me of death, after having recalled me to existence, my God, have pity on me, and do not let me die in despair!" 
"Who talks of God and despair at the same time?" said a voice that seemed to come from beneath the earth, and, deadened by the distance, sounded hollow and sepulchral in the young man's ears. Edmond's hair stood on end, and he rose to his knees. 
"Ah," said he, "I hear a human voice." Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years; and a jailer is no man to a prisoner--he is a living door, a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron. 
"In the name of heaven," cried Dantès, "speak again, though the sound of your voice terrifies me. Who are you?" 
"Who are you?" said the voice. 
"An unhappy prisoner," replied Dantès, who made no hesitation in answering. 
"Of what country?" 
"A Frenchman." 
"Your name?" 
"Edmond Dantès." 
"Your profession?" 
"A sailor." 
"How long have you been here?" 
"Since the 28th of February, 1815." 
"Your crime?" 
"I am innocent." 
"But of what are you accused?" 
"Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return." 
"What! For the emperor's return?--the emperor is no longer on the throne, then?" 
"He abdicated at Fontainebleau in 1814, and was sent to the Island of Elba. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?" 
"Since 1811." 
Dantès shuddered; this man had been four years longer than himself in prison. 
"Do not dig any more," said the voice; "only tell me how high up is your excavation?" 
"On a level with the floor." 
"How is it concealed?" 
"Behind my bed." 
"Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?" 
"No." 
"What does your chamber open on?" 
"A corridor." 
"And the corridor?" 
"On a court." 
"Alas!" murmured the voice. 
"Oh, what is the matter?" cried Dantès. 
"I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. I took the wrong angle, and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress." 
"But then you would be close to the sea?" 
"That is what I hoped." 
"And supposing you had succeeded?" 
"I should have thrown myself into the sea, gained one of the islands near here--the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen--and then I should have been safe." 
"Could you have swum so far?" 
"Heaven would have given me strength; but now all is lost." 
"All?" 
"Yes; stop up your excavation carefully, do not work any more, and wait until you hear from me." 
"Tell me, at least, who you are?" 
"I am--I am No. 27." 
"You mistrust me, then," said Dantès. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. 
"Oh, I am a Christian," cried Dantès, guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers; but I conjure you do not abandon me. If you do, I swear to you, for I have got to the end of my strength, that I will dash my brains out against the wall, and you will have my death to reproach yourself with." 
"How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man." 
"I do not know my age, for I have not counted the years I have been here. All I do know is, that I was just nineteen when I was arrested, the 28th of February, 1815." 
"Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice; "at that age he cannot be a traitor." 
"Oh, no, no," cried Dantès. "I swear to you again, rather than betray you, I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!" 
"You have done well to speak to me, and ask for my assistance, for I was about to form another plan, and leave you; but your age reassures me. I will not forget you. Wait." 
"How long?" 
"I must calculate our chances; I will give you the signal." 
"But you will not leave me; you will come to me, or you will let me come to you. We will escape, and if we cannot escape we will talk; you of those whom you love, and I of those whom I love. You must love somebody?" 
"No, I am alone in the world." 
"Then you will love me. If you are young, I will be your comrade; if you are old, I will be your son. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives; I only love him and a young girl called Mercédès. My father has not yet forgotten me, I am sure, but God alone knows if she loves me still; I shall love you as I loved my father." 
"It is well," returned the voice; "to-morrow." 
These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity; Dantès rose, dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before, and pushed his bed back against the wall. He then gave himself up to his happiness. He would no longer be alone. He was, perhaps, about to regain his liberty; at the worst, he would have a companion, and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Plaints made in common are almost prayers, and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. 
All day Dantès walked up and down his cell. He sat down occasionally on his bed, pressing his hand on his heart. At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown, whom he loved already; and then his mind was made up--when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening, he would kill him with his water jug. He would be condemned to die, but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled him to life. 
The jailer came in the evening. Dantès was on his bed. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his eyes, for the jailer said, "Come, are you going mad again?" 
Dantès did not answer; he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. The jailer went away shaking his head. Night came; Dantès hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him, but he was mistaken. The next morning, however, just as he removed his bed from the wall, he heard three knocks; he threw himself on his knees. 
"Is it you?" said he; "I am here." 
"Is your jailer gone?" 
"Yes," said Dantès; "he will not return until the evening; so that we have twelve hours before us." 
"I can work, then?" said the voice. 
"Oh, yes, yes; this instant, I entreat you." 
In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantès was resting his two hands, as he knelt with his head in the opening, suddenly gave way; he drew back smartly, while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. Then from the bottom of this passage, the depth of which it was impossible to measure, he saw appear, first the head, then the shoulders, and lastly the body of a man, who sprang lightly into his cell.  
那些被遗忘了的犯人在地牢里所受的各种各样的痛苦唐太斯都尝到了，他最初很高傲，因为他怀有希望并自知无罪，然后他开始怀疑起自己的冤枉来，这种怀疑多少证实了监狱长认为他是精神错乱的这一看法，他从高傲的顶端一交跌了下来，他开始恳求，不是向上帝恳求，而是向人恳求。却等到这个不幸的人，他本该一开始便寻求主的庇护的，但他却等到希望都破灭了以后才寄希望于上帝。 
唐太斯恳求他换一间单房，因为不管怎么说，换动一次，总是一次变动，可以使他发泄一点烦闷。他请求允许他散步，给他一点书和手工。结果什么都没满足，那也没有关系，他还是照样的要求。他努力使自己和新来的狱卒讲话，虽然他可能比以前的那个更沉默寡言，但是，对一个人讲话，即使对方是个哑巴，也是一种乐趣。唐太斯讲话的用意是要听听他自己的声音，他也曾尝试自言自语，但他却被自己的声音吓了一跳。 
在他入狱以前，每当想到这样一些犯人聚集在一起，他们中有贼，有流浪汉，有杀人犯，心中便不禁要作呕。而现在他却希望和他们在一起，以便除了看到那不和他讲话的狱卒以外，还可以看到一些其他的面孔，他羡慕那些穿着囚衣，系着铁链，肩上钉着记号的苦工。充当苦工的囚徒能呼吸到外面新鲜的空气，又能互相见面，他们是非常幸福的。他恳求狱卒为他找个同伴，哪怕是那个疯神甫也好。 
那个狱卒，纵然因为看惯了许多受苦的情形而心肠硬了些，但毕竟是个人。在他内心深处，也常常同情这个如此受苦的不幸的青年，于是他把三十四号的要求报告给了监狱长。但后者却审慎得象个政治家，竟以为唐太斯想结党或企图逃跑，所以拒绝了他的请求。唐太斯已尽了一切努力，他终于转向了上帝。 
所有那些久已忘记的敬神之念此时都回忆起来了。他记起了母亲所教他的祷告，并在那些祷告里发现了一种他以前从未意识到的意义。因为在顺境中，祷告似乎只是字语的堆积，直到有一天，灾祸来临后，他那祈求上苍怜悯的话，才显得非常的崇高！他祷告，并非出自热诚，而是出自仇怒。他大声地祷告，他已不再怕听到他自己的声音了。然后他陷入了一种神志恍惚的状态。他似乎看到上帝在倾听他所说的每一个字。 
他把他一生的行为都献到万能的主的面前，诉说他所愿意去做的种种事情，并在每一次祷告地结尾引用这样一句话而这句话向上帝请求时常用而向人请求时更常用，“请宽恕我们的罪恶，象我们宽恕那些罪于我们的人一样。”尽管作了这种最诚恳的祷告，唐太斯却依旧还是名犯人。 
渐渐地，心头充满了阴郁。他很单纯，又没有受过什么教育，所以，在他那孤独的地牢里，凭他自己的想象无法重新唤回那些已经逝去的年代，复活那些已经灭亡了的民族，无法重建那些被想象渲染得如此宏伟广大，象马丁的名画里所描绘得那样被天火所照耀，在我们眼前而已消逝了古代城市。他无法做到这一点，他过去的生命短暂，目前很阴郁，未来的又很朦胧。十九年的光太微弱了，无法照亮，那无穷尽的黑暗！他没有消闷解愁的方法。他那充沛的精力，本来可以借追溯往事来活跃一下，现在却被囚禁了起来，象一只被关在笼子里的鹰一样。他只抓住了一个念头，即他的幸福，那被空前的动运所不明不白地毁灭了的幸福。他把这个念头想了又想，然后，象但丁的地狱里的乌哥里诺吞下罗格大主教的头颅骨似的把它囫囵吞了下去。 
竭力的自制以后狂怒。唐太斯用自己的身体去撞监狱的墙，嘴里对上帝大声咒骂着，以致他的狱卒吓得对他望而却步。他把愤怒转嫁到他周围的一切上，他泄怒于自己，泄怒于那来惹他的最微不足道的东西，如一粒沙子，一根草，或一点气息，维尔福给他看的那封告密信在他的脑海里重新浮现出来，一行似乎是用火红的字母写在墙上一般。他对自己说，把他抛入这无限痛苦的深渊里的，是人的仇恨而不是天的报应。 
他用他所能想象得出的种种最可怕的酷刑来惩罚这些不明的迫害者，但觉得一切酷刑都不够厉害，因为在酷刑之后接着就是死亡，而死了以后，即使不是安息，至少也是近于安息的那种麻木状态。 
由于老是想着死就是安息，由于想发明比死更残酷的刑罚，他开始想到了自杀。真是不幸，处于痛苦中的他竟又有了这种念头！自杀之念头就象那死海，肉眼看来似乎很风平浪静；但假如轻率地冒险去投入它的怀抱，就会发现自己被陷在了一个泥沼里，愈陷愈深被吞进去。一旦陷进去，除非是上帝之手把他从那里拉出来，否则就一切都完了，他的挣扎只会加速他的毁灭。但是，这种心灵上的惨境却没有先前的受苦和此后的惩罚那样可怕。这也是一种慰藉，这种慰藉犹如使人只看见深渊张开的大口，而不知底下是一片黑暗。 
爱德蒙从这个念头上获得了一些安慰。当死神就要来临的时候，他一切的忧愁，一切痛苦，以及伴随着忧愁痛苦而来的那一连串妖魔鬼怪都从他的地牢里逃了出去。唐太斯平静地回顾着自己过去的生活，恐惧地瞻仰他的未来，就选择了那儿似乎可以给他作一个避难所。 
“有时候，”在心里说，“在我远航的时候，当我自由自在，身强力壮，指挥着别人的时候，我也曾见过天空突然布满了阴云暴怒地吐着白沫，波涛翻滚，天空中象有一只大怪鸟遮天蔽日而来。那时，我觉得我的船只是一个不起作用的藏身之处，它象是巨人手中的一根羽毛，在大风暴来临之前颤抖着，震荡着。不久，浪潮的怒吼和尖利的岩石向我宣布死亡即将来临，那时，很害怕死亡，于是我以一个男子汉和一个水手的全部技术和智慧与万能的主抗争。我之所以那样做，因为那时我处在幸福之中，挽回了生命就是挽回了欢乐，我不允许那样的去死，不愿意那样的去死，那长眠在岩石和海藻所筑成的床上的景象是很可怕的，因为我不愿意自己这个上帝依照他自己的模样创造出来的人去喂海鸥和乌鸦。但现在不同了。我已经失去了使我为之留恋的生命中的一切，死神在向我微笑，邀我去长眠。我是自愿去死的。我是精疲力尽而死的。就好象在那几天晚上，我绕着这个地牢来回走了三千遍以后带着绝望和仇怒睡去一样。” 
一旦有了这种念头，他就比较平静、温和了。他尽力把他的床整理好，只吃很少东西，睡很短一点时间，并发觉这样生活下去也可以，因为他觉得他能愉快地把生存抛开，象抛掉一件破旧的衣服一样。他有两种方法可以死：一是用他的手帕挂在窗口的栅栏上吊死，一是绝食而死，但前面这个计划使他感到厌恶。唐太斯一向厌恶海盗，海盗被擒以后就是在帆船上吊死的，他不愿意采用这种不光彩的死法。他决定采用第二种办法，于是，当天就实施起来了。入狱以来差不多已过去四年了，在第二年的年底，他又忘了计算日期，因为从那时起他觉得巡查员已抛弃了他。 
唐太斯说过：“我想死。”并选定了死的方法，由于怕自己改变主意，他便发誓一定要去死。“当早餐和晚餐拿来的时候，”他想道，“我就把它倒出窗外，就算已经把它吃了。” 
他按设想要做的那样去做了，把狱卒每天给他送来的两次食物从钉着栅栏的窗洞里倒出去，最初很高兴，后来就有点犹豫，最后则很悔恨。只因那誓言才使他有力量继续这样做下去。过去，人一看到这此食物就恶心，现在由于饥饿难忍，看到这些食物觉得非常可口的，有几次，他整小时的把盘子端在手里，凝视着那不满一口的腐肉，臭鱼和发霉的黑面包。神秘的生存本能在他的内心中与他抗争，并不时地动摇着他的决心，那时，他那间地牢似乎也不象以前那么阴森了，他也不象以前那么绝望了。他还年轻，才不过二十四岁，他差不多还有五十年可活。在那样长的时间里，谁能断言不会发生什么意料不到的事，从而可以打开他的牢门，恢复他的自由呢？他本来自愿做丹达露斯，自动绝食的，现在想到这里，便把食物送到了唇边；但他又想起了他的誓言，他天性高尚，深怕食言会有损于自己的人格。于是他毅然无情地坚持了下去，直到最后，他连把晚餐倒出窗外去的力气都没有了。第二天早晨，他的视觉和听觉失去了作用；狱卒以为他得了重病，爱德蒙则只想早点死去。 
那一天就这样过去了。爱德蒙觉得精神恍惚，胃痉挛所造成的那种痛苦感消失了，口渴也减轻了，一闭上眼睛，就仿佛见眼前有星光在乱舞，象是无数流星在夜空里游戏似的。这就是那个神秘的死之国度里升起的光！ 
大约在晚上九点钟的时候，爱德蒙突然听到靠他所睡的这一面墙上发出了一种空洞的声音。 
牢房里住着许多讨厌的小动物，它们常发出一些响声，他早已习以为常了。可是现在，不知是因为绝食使他的感官更灵敏了呢，还是因为那声音的确比平常的响，也许是因为在那弥留之际，一切都有了新的意义，总之爱德蒙抬起头来倾听了一会儿。这是一种不断的搔扒声，象是一只巨爪，或一颗强有力的牙齿，或某种铁器在啮石头似的。 
年轻人虽然已很衰弱，但他的脑子里却立刻闪出了那个一切犯人都时刻难忘的念头——自由！他觉得，似乎上苍终于怜悯他的不幸了，所以派这个声音来警告他立刻悬崖勒马。或许是那些他所挚爱，一刻也不能忘怀的人之中，有一个也在想念着他，正在努力缩短那分隔他们的距离。 
不，不！他无疑地是错了，这只是那些飘浮在死亡之门前的梦幻罢了。 
爱德蒙还是听出了那响声。它约摸持续了三个小时；然后他听到一块东西掉了下来的响声，接着就一切都恢复了平静。 
过了几小时，声音又响起来了，而且比刚才更近更清晰了。爱德蒙对那种劳动产生了兴趣，因为它使他有了个伴儿。 
但突然间，狱卒进来了。 
一周以前，他下决心去死，四天前，他开始付诸实施以来，爱德蒙就没有和这个人讲过话，问他是怎么回事，他也不回答，当狱卒仔细观察他时，他就转过脸去面对着墙壁，但现在狱卒或许听到这种声音，要是追查起来，或许会永远终止这种声音，从而毁灭了这在他临终时来安慰他的唯一的一线希望了。 
狱卒给他送来了早餐。唐太斯支摇起身子，开始东拉西扯说起话来，什么伙食太坏啦，地牢太冷啦，抱怨这个，埋怨那个，并故意拉高了嗓门，以便让狱卒听得不耐烦，碰巧那天狱卒为他的犯人求得了一点肉汤和白面包，并且给他送来了。 
幸亏狱卒以为唐太斯在讲呓语，他把食物放在那张歪歪斜斜的桌子上后，就退了出去。。爱德蒙终于又自由了，他又惊喜地倾听起来。那个声音又响了，而且现在是这样的清晰，他可以毫不费力的听到了。 
“不必怀疑了，”他想，“一定是有个犯人在努力求得他的自由。噢，假如我和他一起，可以帮他多少忙呀！” 
突然间，他那惯于接受不幸，难于接受欢乐与希望的头脑里，那希望之光又被一片阴云遮住了。他想，这种声音说不定是监狱长吩咐工人修隔壁那监牢所发出来的。 
要确定这一点倒也不难，但他怎么能冒险去问人呢？要引起狱卒注意那声音并不难，只要注意观察他听声音时的表情就可得到答案了，但如果用这种方法，说不定会因一时的满足而出卖了自己宝贵的希望，不幸的是爱德蒙还是这样的虚弱，以致他无法的思想集中，专想一个问题。 
他知道，只有一个办法可以使他的思想变清晰些把目光转向了狱卒给他送来的那盆汤上，并站起来踉踉跄跄地走了过去，带着说不出的舒服之感喝干了它，然后他又克制住自己不要吃得太多。因为他曾听人说过，海上遭遇不幸被救起来的人常因心急吞了太多的食物而致死。爱德蒙把那快要送进嘴里的面包又放回到了桌子上，回到他床上，他已不再想死了。 
不久他就觉得脑子清醒了许多，他又可以思想了，于是就用推理来加强他的思想。他对自己说：“我一定要考验一下，但必须不连累别人。假如这是一个工人，我只要敲敲墙壁，他就会停止工作，并过来查究是谁在敲墙，为什么要敲墙，由于他是监狱长派来干活的，所以不久就会重新干起来。假如，反过来讲，这是一个犯人，那我所发出的声音就会吓倒他，他会停止工作，直到他认为每个人都睡着了以后才会再动手。” 
爱德蒙又一次起身，这次他的腿不抖了，也不再眼花目眩了。他走到地牢的一角，挖下一块因受潮而松动的石片，拿来敲击那墙壁上声音听得最清楚的地方。他敲了三下，第一下敲下去，那声音就停止了，象是变魔术似的。 
爱德蒙留心倾听着。一小时过去了，两小时过去了，墙上再也听不到任何声音了，一切都是静静的。 
满怀着希望，爱德蒙吃了几口面包，喝了一点水，仗着自己良好的体质，他发觉自己已差不多完全恢复了。 
这一天就在极端的寂静中度过去了；夜来临了，但并没有带着那声音同来。 
“这是一个犯人！”爱德蒙高兴自忖道。 
这一夜又在打不破的寂静中度过去了。爱德蒙一夜没合眼。 
早晨，狱卒又把他的饭送了来，他已经把前一天的都吃了。他吃了这些东西以后便焦急地想再听到那种声音，在他的斗室里转了又转，摇摇窗上的铁栅栏，活动一下他的四肢，使它们恢复那原有的能力，准备应付可能降临的事变。每过一会儿，他就听听那声音有没有再来，渐渐地他对那个犯人的审慎感到不耐烦起来，而那个犯人却猜不到打扰他的原来也是一个象他自己那样热切盼望着自由的犯人。 
三天过去了，要命的七十二个钟头，是一分钟一分钟的数过去的呀！ 
终于在一天晚上，狱卒来作了最后一次的查看，唐太斯又一次把他的耳朵贴到墙上去的，他仿佛听到石块之间有一种几乎察觉不出的响动。他缩身离开墙，在他的斗室里踱来踱去，以便集中思想，然后又把耳朵贴到老地方去。 
不用再怀疑了，那一边一定在做一件什么工作，而犯人已发觉了危险，所以比以前更小心地在继续干着，已用凿子代替了铁杆。 
在这个发现的鼓舞之下，爱德蒙决心要帮助那个不屈不挠的劳动者。他先搬开了他的床，因为在他看来，那工作是在床后面那个方向进行着的。他用眼睛寻找一件什么东西以便可以用来穿透墙壁，挖掘水泥，搬开石块。 
但他什么也没看到。他没有小刀等尖利的工具，虽然他窗上的栅栏是铁做的，但它非常牢固，他已试过多次了。地牢里的全部家具就是一张床，一把椅子，一张桌子，一只水桶和一个瓦壶。床上有铁档子，但却是旋紧在木架子上的，得用螺丝刀才能把它们取下来。桌子和椅子无法利用，水桶是有柄的，但那柄已被拆掉了。只有一种办法了，就是把瓦罐打碎，挑一块锋利的碎片来挖墙。他把瓦壶摔到了地上，碎成了片。他挑了两三块最锋利的藏到床上草褥子里，其余的留在地上。他有整夜的时间可以工作，但在黑暗之中，他干不了多少，他不久就感觉到工具碰到了某种坚硬的东西。他把床推回去，等待天亮。一有了希望便也有了耐心。 
他整夜都听着那个隐蔽的工作者，那个人在继续他的挖掘工程。白天来了，狱卒走进来了。唐太斯告诉他，说他在喝水的时候瓦罐从手里滑下去，摔碎了，狱卒一边埋怨一边给他去另外拿了一个，甚至都懒得去打扫那些碎片。他很快就回来了，并叮嘱犯人以后要小心一点，然后就走了。 
唐太斯无比喜悦地听到钥匙在锁里格勒地一响。他注意听着，他注意听着，直到那脚步声完全消失，然后，他急忙拉开自己的床，借着透进地牢里来的那点微弱的光线，才发现昨天晚上他挖的是块石头而不是石头周围的石灰，由于牢内潮湿，石灰一碰就碎。他很高兴地看到它竟会自己剥落，当然，那只是一些碎片，但半小时以后，他已刮下了满满一把。一位数学家大概可以算出来，这样挖下去，两年之内，假如不计那些石头，就可以掘成一条二十尺长，二尺宽的地道。犯人埋怨自己不该把那么多时间浪费在祷告和绝望中，而没有及早开始这项工作，在被关在这里的六年里，还有什么事完成不了呢？ 
唐太斯接连工作了三天，极其小心地挖掉了水泥层，使石头露了出来。墙壁是用碎石砌成的，为了使它更坚固，还用粗糙不平的大石块嵌住其间的空隙里。他所挖到的就是这样一块石头，他必须把它从石窝里挖出来。他勉强用他的指甲去挖，但指甲太软了；至于那瓦罐的碎片，嵌进石缝里一撬就碎了，经过一小时白费力气的辛苦以后，他住手了。难道他就这样刚开头就停下来，然后什么也不做地干等着，等着那位疲倦但也许有工具的邻居来完成一切吗？一个想法突然出现在他的脑子里，他微笑起来，额头上的汗也干了。 
狱卒给唐太斯送汤来的时候，总是盛在一只铁的平底锅里的。这只平底锅还盛着另一个犯人的汤，因为唐太斯曾注意到，它有时是很满的，有时则是半空的，这是看狱卒是先送给他还是先送给他的同伴而定。这只平底锅的柄是铁的，唐太斯情愿以他十年的生命来和它交换。 
狱卒每次把这只平底锅里的东西倒入唐太斯的盆里以后，唐太斯就用一只木匙来喝汤，然后洗干净，留待第二次再用。当天晚上，唐太斯故意的把盆子放在门旁边。狱卒进门时脚踩到盆子上，把它踩破了。这一次他不能怪唐太斯了。他固然有错，不该把它放到那里，但狱卒走路也该看着点儿。 
那狱卒咕哝几句也就算了。他看了一下四周，想找个东西来盛汤，但唐太斯所有的餐具只有一只盆子，再无其他可以代替的东西了。 
“把锅留下吧，”唐太斯说，“你给我送早餐来的时候再带去好了。”这个建议正合狱卒的心意，这可以使他不必上下再多跑一次了。于是他就把平底锅留了下来。 
唐太斯简直高兴极了。他急忙吃了他的食物，又等了一个钟头，唯恐狱卒会改变主意又回来，然后，他搬开床，把平底锅的把手一端插进墙上大石块和碎石的缝里，把它当作一条杠杆。他开始撬动，大石块动了一下，他明白这个主意不错，一小时以后，那块大石头就从墙上挖了出来，露出了一个一尺半见方的洞穴。 
唐太斯小心地把泥灰都收拢来，捧到地牢的一个角落里，上面用泥土把它盖上。现在他手里有了这样宝贵的一样工具，这是碰巧得来的，或更确切地说，是他巧施计谋得来的，他决定要尽量利用这一夜功夫，继续拼命地工作。天一亮，他就把石头放回原处，把床也推回去靠住墙壁，在床上躺下来。早餐只有一片面包，狱卒进来把面包放在了桌子上。 
“咦，你没有另外给我拿一只盆子来。”唐太斯说。 
“没有，”狱卒回答说，“什么东西都让你给弄坏。你先是打烂了瓦罐，后来你又让我踩破了你的盆子，要是所有的犯人都象你这个样，政府就支付不了啦。我就把锅留给你，就用这个来盛汤吧，那样，省得让你再打碎了碟子。” 
唐太斯抬头望天，在被子里双手合十。他对上天让他保留这一片铁器比给他留下什么都更感激。但他也注意到了，那边的那个犯人已停止了工作。这没关系，他得加紧工作，假如他的邻居不来靠拢他，他可以去接近他。他不知疲倦地整天工作着，到了傍晚时分，他已经挖出了十把水泥、石灰和碎石片。当狱卒快要来的时候，唐太斯就扳直了那条锅柄，把铁锅放回了原处。狱卒向锅里倒了一些老一套的肉汤，不，说得确切些，是鱼汤，因为这一天是斋日，犯人每星期得斋戒三次。要不是唐太斯早就忘了数日子，这本来倒也是一种数日子的方法。狱卒倒了汤就走了。唐太斯很想确定他的邻居是否真的已停止了工作。他听了一会儿，一切都是静静的，就象过去的三天来一样。唐太斯叹了一口气，很明显的他的邻居不信任他。但是，他仍然毫不气馁地整夜工作。两三小时以后，他遇到了一个障碍物。铁柄碰上丝毫不起作用，只是在一个平面上滑了一下。 
唐太斯用手去一摸，发觉原来是一条横梁。这条横梁挡住了，或更贴切地说，完全堵住了唐太斯所挖成的洞，所以必须在它的上面或下面从头再挖起。那不幸的青年没料到会遇到这种障碍。“噢，上帝！上帝呵！”他轻声地说，“我曾这样诚心诚意地向您祷告，希望您能听到我的话。你剥夺了我的自由，又剥夺了我死亡的安息，是您又让我有了生存下去的希望，我的上帝呵！可怜可怜我吧，别让我绝望而死吧！” 
“是谁在把上帝和绝望放在一块儿说？”一个象是来自地下的声音说道，这个因隔了一层而被压低了声音传到那青年人的耳朵里，阴森森的，象是从坟墓里发出来的。爱德蒙感到头发都竖了起来，他身子向后一缩，跪在了地上。 
“啊！”他说，“我听到了一个人的声音。”四五年来，除了狱卒以外，他再没有听到过别人讲话，而在一个犯人看来，狱卒不能算是个人，他是橡木门以外的一扇活的门，铁栅栏以外的一道血和肉的障碍物。 
“看在上帝的份上，”唐太斯说道，“请再说话吧，虽然你的声音吓了我一跳，你是谁？ 
“你是谁？”那声音问。 
“一个不幸的犯人。”唐太斯回答说，他答话的时候毫不犹豫。 
“哪国人？” 
“法国人。” 
“叫什么名字？” 
“爱德蒙唐太斯。” 
“干那一行的？” 
“是一个水手。” 
“你到这儿有多久了？” 
“是一八一五年二月二十八日来的。” 
“什么罪名？” 
“我是无辜的。” 
“那么别人指控你什么罪？” 
“参与皇帝的复位活动。” 
“什么！皇帝复位！那么皇帝不在位了吗？” 
“他是一八一四年在枫丹白露逊位的，以后就被押到厄尔巴岛去了。你在这儿多久了，怎么连这些事都不知道？” 
“我是一八一一年来的。” 
唐太斯不禁打了个寒颤，这个人比自己多关了四年牢。 
“不要再挖了，”那声音说道，“只告诉我你的洞有多高就得了。” 
“和地面齐平。” 
“这个洞怎么遮起来的？” 
“在我的床背后。” 
“你关进来以后，你的床搬动过没有？” 
“没有。” 
“你的房间通向什么地方？” 
“通向一条走廊。” 
“走廊呢？” 
“通到天井里。” 
“糟糕！那声音低声说道。 
“哦，怎么了？”唐太斯喊道。 
“我算错啦，我计划里的这一点缺陷把一切都毁了。设计图上只错了一条线，实行起来就等于错了十五尺。我把你所挖的这面墙当作城堡的墙啦。” 
“但那样你不是就挖到海边去了吗？” 
“那就是我所希望的。” 
“假如你成功了呢？” 
“我就跳到海里，登上附近的一个岛上，多姻岛或是波伦岛，那时我就安全了。” 
“你能游那么远吗？” 
“上帝会给我力量的，可现在一切都完了！” 
“一切都完了？” 
“是的，你小心别再挖了。别再干了。听候我的消息再说吧。” 
“至少请告诉我你是谁呀。” 
“我是——我是二十七号。” 
“那么你信不过我吗？”唐太斯说。他似乎听到从那个无名客那儿传过来一阵苦笑。 
“噢，我是一个基督徒，”唐太斯大声说，他本能地猜想到这个人是有意要弃他而去。“我以基督的名义向你发誓，我情愿让他们杀了我也不会向刽子手们吐露一点实情的，看在上帝的份上，别离开，别不和我说话，不然我向你发誓因为我已忍耐到了极限，我会把头在墙上撞碎的，会懊悔的。” 
“你多大了？听你的声音象是一个青年人。” 
“我不知道自己的年龄，因为自从到了这里以后，我就不曾计算过时间。我所知道的只是当我被捕的时候，我刚满十九岁，当时是一八一五年二月二十八日。” 
“那你还不满二十六岁！”那声音轻轻地说，“在这个年龄，是不会做奸细的。” 
“不，不，不！”唐太斯喊道，“我再向你发誓，就是他们把我剁成肉酱也不会出卖你的！” 
“幸亏你对我这样说，这样请求我，因为我就要另去拟一个计划了，不顾你了，但是你的年龄使我放了心。我会再来找你的。等着我吧。” 
“什么时候？” 
“我得算算我们的机会再说，我会打信号给你的。” 
“千万别抛弃我，即使请你到我这儿来，要不就让我到你那儿去。我们一同逃走，即使我们逃不了，我们也能说话，你谈你所爱的人，我谈我所爱的那些人。你一定爱着什么人吧？” 
“不，我在这个世界上孤单一人。” 
“那么你会爱我的。假如你年轻，我就做你的朋友，假如你年纪大了，我就做你的儿子。我有一个父亲，要是他还活着，该有七十岁啦，我只爱他和一个名叫美塞苔丝的年轻姑娘。我父亲没有忘了我，这一点我可以肯定，但她还爱不爱我，那就只有上帝知道了。我会象爱我父亲那样爱你的。” 
“很好！”那声音答道，“明天见。” 
这几个字的语气无疑是出于诚意的。唐太斯站起身来，象以往做的那样小心地埋藏了从墙上挖下来的碎石和残片，把床推回去靠住墙壁。他现在整个儿沉没在幸福里了，他将不再孤独了，或许不久就会获得自由了。退一步说，即使他依旧还是犯人，他也至少有了一个伙伴，而犯人的生活一经与人分尝，其苦味也就减少了一半。 
唐太斯整天地在他的小单房里踱来踱去，心里充满了欢喜。他有时竟高兴得发呆，他在床上坐下来，用手按住自己的胸膛。每有极轻微的响动，他就会一跃跳到门口去。有几次，他内心里突然产生了一种担忧，唯恐他会被迫同这个他把他当作朋友的人分离。如果发生这种事，他打定了主意，只要狱卒一移开他的床，弯下身来检查那洞口，他就用他的瓦罐砸碎他的脑袋。这样他会被处死，但他本来就已经快要忧虑绝望而死了，是这个神妙不可思议的声音又把他救活了过来。 
傍晚时分，狱卒来了，唐太斯已上了床。他觉得这样似乎可以把那未挖成的洞口保护得更严一点。他的眼里无疑露出了一种奇异的目光，因为那狱卒说，“喂，你又疯了吗？” 
唐太斯没有回答。他怕他的声音会把自己的情绪泄漏出来。狱卒一边摇着头一边退了出去。夜晚降临了，唐太斯满以为他的邻居会利用这寂静来招呼他，他想错了。但第二天早晨，正当他把床拖离墙壁时，他听到了三下叩击声，他赶紧跪下来。 
“是你吗？”他说，“我在这儿。” 
“你那边的狱卒走了吗？” 
“走了，”唐太斯说，“他不到晚上是不会再回来的。我们有十二小时可以自由自在的。” 
“那么，我可以动手了？”那声音说。 
“噢，是的，是的，马上动手吧，我求求你！” 
唐太斯这时半个身体钻在洞里，他撑手的那一块地面突然间陷了下去。他赶紧缩回身来，一大堆石头和泥土落了下去，就在他自己所挖成的这个洞下面，又露出来一个头，接着露出了肩膀，最后露出了整个人，那个人十分敏捷地钻进了他的地牢里。 
Chapter 16 A Learned Italian
 SEIZING IN HIS arms the friend so long and ardently desired, Dantès almost carried him towards the window, in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. 
He was a man of small stature, with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deep-set, penetrating eye, almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow, and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. His thin face, deeply furrowed by care, and the bold outline of his strongly marked features, betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow, while the garments that hung about him were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon which they had originally been fashioned. 
The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years; but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his movements made it probable that he was aged more from captivity than the course of time. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome, although he must at that moment have been suffering bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty. 
"Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here--our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight; then, fitting it into its place, he said,-- 
"You removed this stone very carelessly; but I suppose you had no tools to aid you." 
"Why," exclaimed Dantès, with astonishment, "do you possess any?" 
"I made myself some; and with the exception of a file, I have all that are necessary,--a chisel, pincers, and lever." 
"Oh, how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience." 
"Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, he displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of beechwood. 
"And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired Dantès. 
"With one of the clamps of my bedstead; and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither, a distance of about fifty feet." 
"Fifty feet!" responded Dantès, almost terrified. 
"Do not speak so loud, young man--don't speak so loud. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners." 
"But they believe I am shut up alone here." 
"That makes no difference." 
"And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?" 
"I do; that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine; only, unfortunately, I did not curve aright; for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion, instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet, I made it fifty. I expected, as I told you, to reach the outer wall, pierce through it, and throw myself into the sea; I have, however, kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens, instead of going beneath it. My labor is all in vain, for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers." 
"That's true," said Dantès; "but the corridor you speak of only bounds one side of my cell; there are three others--do you know anything of their situation?" 
"This one is built against the solid rock, and it would take ten experienced miners, duly furnished with the requisite tools, as many years to perforate it. This adjoins the lower part of the governor's apartments, and were we to work our way through, we should only get into some lock-up cellars, where we must necessarily be recaptured. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on--faces on--stop a minute, now where does it face?" 
The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixed the loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber. This loophole, which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside, to an opening through which a child could not have passed, was, for better security, furnished with three iron bars, so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner's escape. As the stranger asked the question, he dragged the table beneath the window. 
"Climb up," said he to Dantès. The young man obeyed, mounted on the table, and, divining the wishes of his companion, placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands. The stranger, whom as yet Dantès knew only by the number of his cell, sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years, and, light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard, climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantès, and from them to his shoulders; then, bending double, for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect, he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window, so as to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. 
An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head, saying, "I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantès as dextrously as he had ascended, he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground. "What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously, in his turn descending from the table. 
The elder prisoner pondered the matter. "Yes," said he at length, "it is so. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery, where patrols are continually passing, and sentries keep watch day and night." 
"Are you quite sure of that?" 
"Certain. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his musket; that made me draw in my head so quickly, for I was fearful he might also see me." 
"Well?" inquired Dantès. 
"You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?" 
"Then," pursued the young man eagerly-- 
"Then," answered the elder prisoner, "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words, an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. Dantès gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration. 
"Tell me, I entreat of you, who and what you are?" said he at length; "never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself." 
"Willingly," answered the stranger; "if, indeed, you feel any curiosity respecting one, now, alas, powerless to aid you in any way." 
"Say not so; you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind. Pray let me know who you really are?" 
The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. "Then listen," said he. "l am the Abbé Faria, and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811; previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon, had bestowed on him a son, named king of Rome even in his cradle. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of; namely, that four years afterwards, this colossus of power would be overthrown. Then who reigns in France at this moment--Napoleon II?" 
"No, Louis XVIII." 
"The brother of Louis XVII! How inscrutable are the ways of providence--for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated, and raise up him who was so abased?" 
Dantès, whole attention was riveted on a man who could thus forget his own misfortunes while occupying himself with the destinies of others. 
"Yes, yes," continued he, "'Twill be the same as it was in England. After Charles I., Cromwell; after Cromwell, Charles II, and then James II, and then some son-in-law or relation, some Prince of Orange, a stadtholder who becomes a king. Then new concessions to the people, then a constitution, then liberty. Ah, my friend!" said the abbé, turning towards Dantès, and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet, "you are young, you will see all this come to pass." 
"Probably, if ever I get out of prison!" 
"True," replied Faria, "we are prisoners; but I forget this sometimes, and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls, and I fancy myself at liberty." 
"But wherefore are you here?" 
"Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811; because, like Machiavelli, I desired to alter the political face of Italy, and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities, each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler, I sought to form one large, compact, and powerful empire; and, lastly, because I fancied I had found my C?sar Borgia in a crowned simpleton, who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me. It was the plan of Alexander VI and Clement VII, but it will never succeed now, for they attempted it fruitlessly, and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. Italy seems fated to misfortune." And the old man bowed his head. 
Dantès could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. Napoleon certainly he knew something of, inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him; but of Clement VII and Alexander VI he knew nothing. 
"Are you not," he asked, "the priest who here in the Chateau d'If is generally thought to be--ill?" 
"Mad, you mean, don't you?" 
"I did not like to say so," answered Dantès, smiling. 
"Well, then," resumed Faria with a bitter smile, "let me answer your question in full, by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If, for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity; and, in all probability, I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children, if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair." 
Dantès remained for a short time mute and motionless; at length he said,--"Then you abandon all hope of escape?" 
"I perceive its utter impossibility; and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve." 
"Nay, be not discouraged. Would it not be expecting too much to hope to succeed at your first attempt? Why not try to find an opening in another direction from that which has so unfortunately failed?" 
"Alas, it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated, that you talk of beginning over again. In the first place, I was four years making the tools I possess, and have been two years scraping and digging out earth, hard as granite itself; then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts, considering my labor well repaid if, by night-time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hard-bound cement, changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves; then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up, I was compelled to break through a staircase, and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it; but the well is now so completely choked up, that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery. Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking, for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise; and now, at the moment when I reckoned upon success, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeat again, that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure." 
Dantès held down his head, that the other might not see how joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbé's plans. 
The abbé sank upon Edmond's bed. while Edmond himself remained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him. There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. To undermine the ground for fifty feet--to devote three years to a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to a precipice overhanging the sea--to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past, then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least three miles ere you could reach the shore--were difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantès had never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only because of an error in calculation. This same person, with almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled an attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was it impossible to Dantès? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet, Dantès would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age of fifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was but half as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest and savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the islands--Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardy sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a similar task; should he, who had so often for mere amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantès resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion, and to remember that what has once been done may be done again. 
After continuing some time in profound meditation, the young man suddenly exclaimed, "I have found what you were in search of!" 
Faria started: "Have you, indeed?" cried he, raising his head with quick anxiety; "pray, let me know what it is you have discovered?" 
"The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the outer gallery, does it not?" 
"It does." 
"And is not above fifteen feet from it?" 
"About that." 
"Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you will lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out into the gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guards it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not deficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly proved yours--you shall now see me prove mine." 
"One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbé; "it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention), then I thought I could not be doing anything displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent being at liberty--one who had committed no offence, and merited not condemnation." 
"And have your notions changed?" asked Dantès with much surprise; "do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?" 
"No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or destroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantès. 
"Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?" 
"Tell me," replied Faria, "what has hindered you from knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from your bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, and endeavoring to escape?" 
"Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me," answered Dantès. 
"Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey is within his reach, and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim; but man, on the contrary, loathes the idea of blood--it is not alone that the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread of taking life; his natural construction and physiological formation"-- 
Dantès was confused and silent at this explanation of the thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, or rather soul; for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from the heart. 
"Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully arranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbé Dubuquoi from For l'Evêque; of Latude from the Bastille. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us, therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and when it presents itself, profit by it." 
"Ah," said Dantès, "you might well endure the tedious delay; you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you." 
"I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to that source for recreation or support." 
"What did you do then?" 
"I wrote or studied." 
"Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?" 
"Oh, no," answered the abbé; "I had none but what I made for myself." 
"You made paper, pens and ink?" 
"Yes." 
Dantès gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in believing. Faria saw this. 
"When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," said he, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of them meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the foot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders of the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d'If. The work I speak of is called A Treatise on the Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy, and will make one large quarto volume." 
"And on what have you written all this?" 
"On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makes linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment." 
"You are, then, a chemist?" 
"Somewhat; I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend of Cabanis." 
"But for such a work you must have needed books--had you any?" 
"I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome; but after reading them over many times, I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so that since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Titus Livius, Tacitus, Strada, Jornandès, Dante, Montaigne, Shakspeare, Spinoza, Machiavelli, and Bossuet. I name only the most important." 
"You are, doubtless, acquainted with a variety of languages, so as to have been able to read all these?" 
"Yes, I speak five of the modern tongues--that is to say, German, French, Italian, English, and Spanish; by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek--I don't speak it so well as I could wish, but I am still trying to improve myself." 
"Improve yourself!" repeated Dantès; "why, how can you manage to do so?" 
"Why, I made a vocabulary of the words I knew; turned, returned, and arranged them, so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. I know nearly one thousand words, which is all that is absolutely necessary, although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries. I cannot hope to be very fluent, but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes; and that would be quite as much as I should ever require." 
Stronger grew the wonder of Dantès, who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers; still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings, he added, "Then if you were not furnished with pens, how did you manage to write the work you speak of?" 
"I made myself some excellent ones, which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens; for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing the past, I forget the present; and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner." 
"But the ink," said Dantès; "of what did you make your ink?" 
"There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon," replied Faria, "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use, for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot; this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. For very important notes, for which closer attention is required, I pricked one of my fingers, and wrote with my own blood." 
"And when," asked Dantès, "may I see all this?" 
"Whenever you please," replied the abbé. 
"Oh, then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man. 
"Follow me, then," said the abbé, as he re-entered the subterranean passage, in which he soon disappeared, followed by Dantès.  
唐太斯用热烈的拥抱来迎接他这位渴望已久的朋友，然后把他拉到窗口，以便借着从铁栅栏间透进来的微弱的光线把他整个人看得清楚些。这个人身材瘦小，头发已经灰白，那大概是受苦和忧虑的结果而不是由于年龄的原因，眼睛深陷有神，几乎被那灰色的眉毛所掩没了，一把又长又黑的胡子一直垂到胸前。他那神色疲惫的脸上刻满了忧虑的皱纹，再加上他那个性坚毅的轮廓，一望便知他是一个惯于劳心而少劳力的人。他的额头正淌着大滴的汗珠。他的衣服已破碎成了片，披在身上，已看不出它们原来的样子了。 
他看上去六十岁到六十五岁之间，但他行动上倒挺利索，这说明由于长期囚禁的结果使他显得比实际年龄老一些。他那变得冷漠了的心境似乎又变得温暖激奋起来。他很诚意地感谢这样亲热的欢迎，尽管他有些失望，因为他原来以为可获得自由，而现在却只是进入了另外一间地牢。 
“我们来看看，”他说，“我进来的痕迹能不能想法去掉。我们要严守秘密，千万不能让狱卒知道。”他走向洞口，弯下身子，轻而易举地把那块大石头拿了起来。然后，又把它塞回原位说：“你挖这块石头的时候太不小心了，我想你大概是没有工具作帮手吧。” 
“工具？”唐太斯吃惊地问道，“难道你有工具吗？” 
“我自己做了几样，除了少一把锉刀以外其余必要的我都有了，我有凿子，钳子和锤子。” 
“噢，我很想看看你凭耐心和巧手做出来的这些东西！” 
“好吧，这是我的凿子。”说着，他拿出一片尖利结实的铁块，上面有一块木棒做的柄。 
“你是怎么做成的？”唐太斯问。 
“用我床上的一根铁楔子做的。我就是用这个工具挖通了到这儿来的路，至少有五十尺的距离。” 
“五十尺！”唐太斯惊叫了一声。 
“小声点儿，小伙子，说话轻点儿！在这种国家监狱里，是常常有人站在牢房门外偷听犯人的谈话。” 
“但他们知道我是一个人。” 
“那也一样。” 
“你说你挖了五十尺才挖到这儿吗？” 
“不错，那差不多就是你我两个房间之间的距离。可惜我没有把转弯弄对，我因为缺少必要的几何量具来计算我的比例图，本来只要挖一条四十尺长的弧线就行了，我却挖了五十尺。我已经告诉过你，我本来是想挖到外墙，挖穿它，然后跳进海里去的，但是，我却顺着你房间对面的走廊挖，没有挖到底下去。我的一切努力白费了。因为这条走廊是通到院子里的，而院子里到处都是兵。” 
“不错。”唐太斯说，“但你所说的走廊只占我房间的一面，还有另外三面呢。那三面方位你清楚吗？” 
“这一面是用实心的岩石筑成的，得有十个经验丰富的矿工，带着所需要的各种工具，再花许多年的功夫才能挖穿它。 
另外这一面和监狱长住处的下部相联，假如我们挖过去，只钻进一间锁了门的地牢里，在那儿又会被人捉住的。你这间地牢的第四面，也就是最后一面是通向——等一下，它是通向哪儿的呢？” 
引起好奇心的这一面有透进光线的窗洞，这个窗洞向外渐渐缩小，开口的地方连一个小孩都钻不过去，上面还装着三条铁栅，所以连最多疑的狱卒也尽可以放心，知道犯人是绝不可能从这个地方逃跑的。新来者一面说着，一面把桌子拖到窗口底下。“爬上去。”他对唐太斯说。 
年轻人顺从地爬上桌子，他已猜到了他同伴的意图，就将背牢牢地贴住墙壁，伸出双手。唐太斯到目前为止只知道这个人的牢房号码，从他外表来看绝想不到他竟会这样敏捷，他一跳就跳了上来，象一只猫或一条蜥蜴那样敏捷的从桌子爬到唐太斯伸出的手上，又从手上爬到他的肩头上，然后，弯下腰，由于地牢的房顶使他无法伸直身子，所以他勉强把头从窗洞的栅栏间塞了出去，以便从上到下看个仔细。 
一会儿以后，他赶紧缩回头说道：“我早料到会是如此！” 
凭着象刚才上去那样灵巧地从唐太斯的肩上溜了下来，敏捷地从桌上跳到地面上。 
“你早料到了什么？”年青人用焦急的口吻问道，他也从桌子上跳了下来。 
老犯人沉思了一下。“是的，”他终于说，“是这样的。你房间的这一面的外边是一条露天走廊，不断地有巡逻兵在那儿踱来踱去，而且日夜还有哨兵把守着。” 
“你看清楚了吗？” 
“当然。我看到了一个哨兵的军帽和毛瑟枪的枪管，所以我才赶紧地把头缩回来，我怕他会看见我。” 
“怎么办呢？”唐太斯问。 
“现在你该知道了要想从你的地牢里逃出去是绝对不可能的了吧？” 
“那么，”年青人用疑问的口吻追问道。 
“那么？”老犯人答道，“上帝的意志是应该服从的！”当老人慢慢地吐出这些字的时候，一种听天由命的神情渐渐显示在他阴云密布的脸上。这个人酝酿了这么久的希望，现在就这样一下子放弃了，唐太斯望着他，既惊讶又钦佩。 
“请告诉我，我求求你，你是什么人？”他终于说。 
“好吧，”那人回答说，“如果你对我还存有好奇心，我可以告诉你，反正现在我已无力帮助你了。” 
“你可以安慰我，鼓励我，因为依我看，你是强者中的强者。” 
怪客凄然微笑了一下。“那么听着，”他说，“我是法利亚神甫，是在一八一一年关到伊夫堡来的。在这以前，我曾在费尼斯德坦克堡被关过三年。一八一一年，我从皮埃蒙特被转押到了法国。在那个时候，拿破仑似乎万事如意，甚至把他那个还在摇篮里的儿子封做了罗马国王。我万没想到竟会发生你刚才告诉我的那个转变。想不到四年以后，这个庞大的帝国竟会被人推翻。那么法国现在由谁统治呢，拿破仑二世吗？” 
“不，是路易十八。” 
“路易十六的兄弟！天意真太难测了！究竟是因为什么苍天要贬黜一个显赫有名的人，去抬举一个软弱无能的人呢？” 
唐太斯的全部注意力都被他吸引去了，这个人多么奇怪，他竟忘记了自己的不幸，而关心起别人的命运来了。 
“是啊，英国也是这样的，”他继续说道，“查理一世以后，来了克伦威尔，克伦威尔之后是查理二世，然后是詹姆士二世，詹姆士二世的继承人是他的一个外甥，一个亲戚，一个什么爱尔兰亲王，一个自任为国王的总督，对人民作了一些新的让步，订立一部宪法，然后自由来了！你会看到的，小伙子，”他转向唐太斯，以一种预言家的所有的兴奋的眼光凝视着他说，“你还年轻，你会看到的。” 
“是的，假如我能出狱的话！” 
“不错，”法利亚答道，“我们是犯人，但有时候常常忘记了这一点，甚至有些时候，当我头脑里的想象把我带到这座监狱外的时候，我真以为自己已经获得了自由了呢。” 
“你怎么会到这儿来的？” 
“一八○七年，我想出了那个拿破仑在一八一一年实现的计划。因为，象马基维里一样，我也希望改变意大利的政治局面，我不愿意看着它分裂成许多个小王国，每一个小王国有一个无能的或残暴的统治者。我想把它建成一个伟大的，团结的，强有力的帝国。最后，由于我把一个头戴王冠的傻瓜错当成我的凯撒布琪亚，他假装采纳了我的意见，但实际上却出卖了我。亚历山大六世和克力门七世也曾有过这种计划，但现在是绝不会成功的了，因为他们轻视这种计划，认为它不会有好结果，而拿破仑不能实现。意大利似乎命中注定要倒霉的。”老人说最后这几个字时的语气极其沮丧，他的头无力地垂到胸前。 
在唐太斯听来，这一切都是无法理解的，他不懂一个人怎么能为这种事甘冒生命的危险。不错，他知道一点拿破仑，因为他曾见过他，并和他讲过话，但克力门七世和亚历山大六世，他听都没听过。 
“你是不是就是那位有病的神甫？”唐太斯说，他开始有点相信狱卒的话了，这也是伊夫堡普通的看法。——“你是想说他们叫我疯子，对不对？” 
“我不敢那么说。”唐太斯微笑着回答。 
“好吧，那么，”法利亚带着苦笑重新接着说，“让我来回答你这个问题吧，我承认我是伊夫堡那个普通人认为的疯犯人。 
很多年来，他们都把我当作笑料，指给来参观监狱的来宾看，说我如何如何地疯狂，假如在这个暗无天日的地方有孩子们来的话。还极可能再抬举我一下，叫我耍把戏给孩子们看。” 
唐太斯默默无言地呆立了许久。最后，他终于说，“那么你完全放弃逃走的希望了吗？” 
“逃走已是不可能的了，而且我认为，硬要去尝试那万能的上帝显然不许的事未免太违抗上帝了。” 
“不，不要泄气。你第一次尝试就希望成功，那未免期望太高我吗？为什么不再试试看，在另一个方向找一个出口呢？” 
“你把重新开始说得这么轻松，你知不知道我以前是怎么做的？首先，我花了四年的功夫来制做我现在所有的这些工具，然后又花了两年的功夫来挖掘那象花岗石一样坚硬的泥土，然后我又得搬开那些我曾认为连摇都摇不动的大石头。我整天都做着这种非人力所及的工作，如果到晚上我能挖下一寸见方这种坚实的水泥，就认为自己是很不错的了。你知道，这种水泥，由于年代已久，简直如同石头一般难挖。然后，我又得把挖出来的大量泥土灰沙藏起来，我不得不掘通一条楼梯，把它们扔到楼梯底下的空隙里。那个地方现在已经完全塞满了，如果再投一把泥土进去，一定会被人发觉的。你再想想看，我本来完全相信我已经实现了我的目标，达到了我的目的了，为了这项工作，我曾尽了我的全力，而正当我算来已经成功了的时候，希望却永远地离开了。不，我再说一遍，想叫我重新再试，那显然是违背天意的，是决不可能的了。” 
唐太斯低下头，他对于这个计划的失败并不感到怎么遗憾，他不愿意让他的同伴看到他脸上的这种表情。说老实话，这个年青人的心里现在只有高兴儿，因为他发觉自己已不再孤独了，不再冷清了。 
神甫就势倒在爱德蒙的床上休息，而爱德蒙仍然站着。他以前从未想过要逃走。有些事情看来实在是不可能的，以致他的脑子里从没有过那种念头。在地底下挖一条五十尺的地道，用三年的时间来干这项工作，即使成功了，也不过是把自己带到了海边的一块悬崖边上，从五十尺，六十尺，或许一百尺的高处向下跳，冒着在岩石摔得粉身碎骨的危险，即使哨兵的子弹没打死你，你逃过了一切危险，也还得再游三里路的海面，这一切在唐太斯看来实在是太艰难了，这种计划他甚至连做梦都没有想到过，他只是听天由命。但现在他看到一个老人竟这样大胆不怕死的在寻求活路，他也就有了一个新的希望，勇气和精力也被激励起来。已经有别人尝试过他希望连想都没有想过的事，而那个人，还不如他年轻，不如他强壮，也不如他这样灵敏，却凭着耐心和技巧给自己配备了做那桩惊人的工作所必需的一切工具，只是由于计算上的一个失误而变成了一场空。那个人既然做到了这一切，那么，唐太斯就没有什么做不到的事了！法利亚从他的牢房里掘通了五十尺地道，唐太斯则决心掘通两倍于那个距离。年已五十的法利亚，用了三年的时间的时光致力于工作，还没有前者一半年龄的他，却虚度了六年的时光。做教士和哲学家的法利亚，甘愿冒生命危险去游过三哩路然后登上大魔岛，兰顿纽岛，或黎玛岛，难道象他这样一个身强力壮的水手，一个经验丰富的潜泳者，竟做不到这一点吗？难道象他这样的常常只为了好玩而潜到海底去采珊瑚的人，还会迟疑去游那三里路吗？三里路他在一小时内就可以游到，从前，纯碎是为了消遣，他曾多次在水里游过两倍于那么长的距离！唐太斯下决心以这位大无畏的同伴为榜样，并牢牢地记住，曾做成过一次的事，是可以再一次做到的。 
年轻人继续沉思默想了片刻，说道，“我想出你所寻求的办法了！” 
法利亚吃了一惊。“真的吗？”他赶紧抬起头来说道，“请告诉我你发现了什么？” 
“你从你住的地牢挖过来的这条通道，是不是和外面这条走廊是同一个方向？” 
“是呀。” 
“而走廊离你的地道不过十五步左右？” 
“最多也不过如此。” 
“那好吧，我来告诉你我们该怎么做吧。我们必须在地道的中间处开一条丁字形的路。这一次你测量得准确一些。我们可以挖到你讲过的那条走廊边上，杀死看守走廊的哨兵，就此逃走。要保证成功，我们只需要勇气，这个你不缺，还要力气，这个我也有，至于说耐心，你已经够多的了，现在就瞧我的吧。” 
“等一下，我亲爱的朋友，”神甫答道，“你显然还不了解我有的是什么样的勇气，打算把力气用在何处，说到忍耐，我那样夜以继日的工作，倒也够耐心的了，不过，小伙子，请听我说，那时，我觉得一个无辜的人，不该受罪的人归于自由是不会使万能的主不高兴的。” 
“难道你观念改变了吗？”唐太斯问，“难道在遇见我以后你认为自己是有罪的了吗？” 
“不，但我不希望变成个罪人。到目前为止，我始终以为是在同环境作战，但现在你却提出一个同人作战的计划。我能够挖通一堵墙，或拆毁一座楼梯，但我不愿意去刺穿一个人的胸膛，或毁掉一个生命。” 
唐太斯微微露出一点惊异之色。“当前面就是你有自由的时候，”他说，“你就为了那样的一个理由而踌躇不前吗？” 
“请告诉我，”法利亚答道，“有谁阻止过你拆一根床腿下来，打倒你的狱卒，穿上他的衣服，然后设法逃走？” 
“只是因为我从没想到过这样一个计划罢啦！”唐太斯回答说。 
“那是因为，”老人说，“上帝不允许人犯这样的罪，所以阻止了这个想法钻入你的脑子里。凡是一切简单易行的事，我们天生的本能自会阻止我们偏离正道。譬如说老虎吧，它本性嗜血，所以只要用鼻子一嗅，就可以知道它的牺牲品已经进了它的范围了，于是，它扑向牺牲品的身上，把它撕得粉碎。那就是它的本能，它在按本能行事。但人却正相反，人是怕见血的。谋杀不但为社会的法律所不容而且也是自然的法则所不容的。” 
唐太斯默默无言的听着这一番话，觉得有点不知如何是好了，因为这种想法一向活跃在他的脑子里，或者，说得准确些，曾活跃在他的心里，因为有些想法是脑海中想出来的，而有些想法则是从心里流露出来的。 
“自从我入狱以来，”法利亚说，“我把所有的那些有名的越狱案都在我脑子里想过了。那些最终成功的人，都经过了长期的计划和小心安排的，举些例子来说，如波福公爵之逃出万森堡，杜布古神甫之逃出伊微克堡，拉都特之逃出巴士底监狱。但存心想逃脱而最后成功的例子却是很少的。机会常常会出其不意地到来，那是我们始料不到的。所以，让我们耐心地等待一个有利的时机吧，相信时遇吧，你将来会知道，我抓时机是不会比你差的。” 
“唉！”唐太斯说，“你大概很善于等待。这次长期的工作使你每时每刻都有事儿做了，而当你无事可做的时候，你还有希望，可以使你重新振作起来。” 
“我老实跟你说吧，”老人答道，“我不是单靠这个的。” 
“那么你还做些什么呢？” 
“我写作，或者从事研究。” 
“那么他们给了你笔，墨水和纸吗？” 
“噢，不！”神甫回答说，他们没给我，是我自己制做的。 
唐太斯惊呼道：“你自己做的纸，笔和墨水？” 
“是的。” 
唐太斯钦佩地望着他。但他的脑子里仍然有些疑惑，神甫的慧眼一下子就看了出来。 
“等你到我的地牢里去的时候，”他说，“我可以给你看一篇已完成了的文章，那是我反省自己的一生的心血的结晶，那是在罗马竞技场的废墟里，在威尼斯圣马克古宫的圆柱脚下，在狱卒会让我在伊夫堡的牢墙之内有时间把它们写出来。我说的那篇文章的题目叫做《论建立意大利统一王国》，印出来可以成为一册四开本的大书。” 
“您把这些文章写在了什么东西上面？” 
写在了我的两件衬衣上。我发明了一种药剂，可以使得在布片上写字就象在羊皮纸上写一样光滑流利。” 
“那么说，你还是一位化学家？” 
“勉强算是吧，我认识拉瓦锡，也是卡巴尼斯的好朋友。” 
“但是写这样的巨著，你一定需要一些书作参考，你有书吗？” 
“在我罗马的书房里，有将近有五千本书。但把它们读过了许多遍以后我发觉，一个人只要有一百五十本精选过的书，就如同掌握了人类一切知识，至少是够用的了或者该知道的都知道了。我用一生中三年的时间来致力于研究这一百五十本书，直到我把它们完全记在心里为止。所以入狱以后，我只要略微回忆一下，就可以清楚记起它们的内容，就象把书本摊开在我面前一样。我可以把休昔的底斯，萨诺芬，普罗塔克，塔都司李浮斯，塔西佗，史德拉达，约南特斯，但丁，蒙田，莎士比亚，斯宾诺莎，马基维里和布苏亚的书全部背给你听。我在这里仅仅只举出了几个最有名的作家。” 
“那么，你一定懂好几种语言了？” 
“是的，我可以讲五种近代语言，德语，法语，意大利语，英语和西班牙语。我还依据古希腊文学会了现代希腊语，我虽不能说得非常流利，但我现在还在不断地研究它呢。” 
“你在研究？” 
“是的，我把我所掌握的字组成了一套词汇，把它们不断地重新组合，所以我已经能用它们来表达我的思想了。我大约认得有将近一千个字，那一千个字是绝对必须的，尽管我也知道字典里有将近有十万个字。我无法希望说得非常流利，但我能够让人听懂的意思，也就够了。” 
唐太斯愈来愈觉得奇怪了，他觉得眼前这个人具有超凡的能力。可是，他还是希望能发现他的某种缺陷，于是他说：“假如你没有笔，你怎么能把你所说的那本巨著写出来呢？” 
“我自己制造了几支绝妙的笔，这个办法如果一旦流传出去，大家一定很乐于照着去做的。你知道，我们每逢斋戒日都可以吃到鱼的。我就选用了这种鱼头部的几条软骨，你简直想象不到每到星期三，星期五和星期六我是多么的高兴，多么的欢迎它的到来，来更多的为我提供做笔的材料，因为我坦白地承认，我的这本历史著作是我最大的安慰，当我追述过去的时候，我就忘掉了现在。当我自由自在地在历史里驰骋的时候，我就暂时忘记了自己是个犯人。” 
“墨水呢？”唐太斯问，“你又是怎么弄到那个的呢？” 
“告诉你，”法利亚答道。“我的地牢里从前原有一个壁炉，在我住进来以前，早就已经不用了。可是，它一定用过许多年，因为它上面履盖着厚厚的一层煤烟，我把这种煤烟溶解在每星期天给我拿来的酒里，我可以向你担保，你再别想找到一种更好的墨水了。至于极其重要的记录，想引起特别注意的，我就刺破一只手指，用我的血来写。” 
“你什么时候可以把这些东西拿给我看看？”唐太斯问。 
“随便你什么时候都行，”神甫答道。 
“噢，那么立刻给我看吧！”青年恳求道。 
“那就跟我来吧。”神甫说着就重新钻进了地道里，一会儿就不见了。唐太斯跟着他钻了进去。 
Chapter 18 The Treasure
 WHEN DANTèS returned next morning to the chamber of his companion in captivity, he found Faria seated and looking composed. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow window of his cell, he held open in his left hand, of which alone, it will be recollected, he retained the use, a sheet of paper, which, from being constantly rolled into a small compass, had the form of a cylinder, and was not easily kept open. He did not speak, but showed the paper to Dantès. 
"What is that?" he inquired. 
"Look at it," said the abbé with a smile. 
"I have looked at it with all possible attention," said Dantès, "and I only see a half-burnt paper, on which are traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind of ink." 
"This paper, my friend," said Faria, "I may now avow to you, since I have the proof of your fidelity--this paper is my treasure, of which, from this day forth, one-half belongs to you." 
The sweat started forth on Dantès brow. Until this day and for how long a time!--he had refrained from talking of the treasure, which had brought upon the abbé the accusation of madness. With his instinctive delicacy Edmond had preferred avoiding any touch on this painful chord, and Faria had been equally silent. He had taken the silence of the old man for a return to reason; and now these few words uttered by Faria, after so painful a crisis, seemed to indicate a serious relapse into mental alienation. 
"Your treasure?" stammered Dantès. Faria smiled. 
"Yes," said he. "You have, indeed, a noble nature, Edmond, and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in your heart at this moment. No, be assured, I am not mad. This treasure exists, Dantès, and if I have not been allowed to possess it, you will. Yes--you. No one would listen or believe me, because everyone thought me mad; but you, who must know that I am not, listen to me, and believe me so afterwards if you will." 
"Alas," murmured Edmond to himself, "this is a terrible relapse! There was only this blow wanting." Then he said aloud, "My dear friend, your attack has, perhaps, fatigued you; had you not better repose awhile? To-morrow, if you will, I will hear your narrative; but to-day I wish to nurse you carefully. Besides," he said, "a treasure is not a thing we need hurry about." 
"On the contrary, it is a matter of the utmost importance, Edmond!" replied the old man. "Who knows if to-morrow, or the next day after, the third attack may not come on? and then must not all be over? Yes, indeed, I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches, which would make the wealth of a dozen families, will be forever lost to those men who persecute me. This idea was one of vengeance to me, and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity. But now I have forgiven the world for the love of you; now that I see you, young and with a promising future,--now that I think of all that may result to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure, I shudder at any delay, and tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth." Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. 
"You persist in your incredulity, Edmond," continued Faria. "My words have not convinced you. I see you require proofs. Well, then, read this paper, which I have never shown to any one." 
"To-morrow, my dear friend," said Edmond, desirous of not yielding to the old man's madness. "I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until to-morrow." 
"Then we will not talk of it until to-morrow; but read this paper to-day." 
"I will not irritate him," thought Edmond, and taking the paper, of which half was wanting, having been burnt, no doubt, by some accident, he read: 
"This treasure, which may amount to two 
of Roman crowns in the most distant a 
of the second opening wh 
declare to belong to him alo 
heir. 
"25th April, l49" 
"Well!" said Faria, when the young man had finished reading it. 
"Why," replied Dantès, "I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words, which are rendered illegible by fire." 
"Yes, to you, my friend, who read them for the first time; but not for me, who have grown pale over them by many nights' study, and have reconstructed every phrase, completed every thought." 
"And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?" 
"I am sure I have, and you shall judge for yourself; but first listen to the history of this paper." 
"Silence!" exclaimed Dantès. "Steps approach--I go--adieu." 
And Dantès, happy to escape the history and explanation which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's mental instability, glided like a snake along the narrow passage; while Faria, restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity, pushed the stone into place with his foot, and covered it with a mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery. 
It was the governor, who, hearing of Faria's illness from the jailer, had come in person to see him. 
Faria sat up to receive him, avoiding all gestures in order that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already half stricken him with death. His fear was lest the governor, touched with pity, might order him to be removed to better quarters, and thus separate him from his young companion. But fortunately this was not the case, and the governor left him, convinced that the poor madman, for whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection, was only troubled with a slight indisposition. 
During this time, Edmond, seated on his bed with his head in his hands, tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Faria, since their first acquaintance, had been on all points so rational and logical, so wonderfully sagacious, in fact, that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. Was Faria deceived as to his treasure, or was all the world deceived as to Faria? 
Dantès remained in his cell all day, not daring to return to his friend, thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be convinced, once for all, that the abbé was mad--such a conviction would be so terrible! 
But, towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit had gone by, Faria, not seeing the young man appear, tried to move and get over the distance which separated them. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag himself along; his leg was inert, and he could no longer make use of one arm. Edmond was obliged to assist him, for otherwise he would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led to Dantès' chamber. 
"Here I am, pursuing you remorselessly," he said with a benignant smile. "You thought to escape my munificence, but it is in vain. Listen to me." 
Edmond saw there was no escape, and placing the old man on his bed, he seated himself on the stool beside him. 
"You know," said the abbé, "that I was the secretary and intimate friend of Cardinal Spada, the last of the princes of that name. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. He was not rich, although the wealth of his family had passed into a proverb, and I heard the phrase very often, 'As rich as a Spada.' But he, like public rumor, lived on this reputation for wealth; his palace was my paradise. I was tutor to his nephews, who are dead; and when he was alone in the world, I tried by absolute devotion to his will, to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years of unremitting kindness. The cardinal's house had no secrets for me. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes, and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts. One day when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches, and deploring the prostration of mind that followed them, he looked at me, and, smiling bitterly, opened a volume relating to the History of the City of Rome. There, in the twentieth chapter of the Life of Pope Alexander VI, were the following lines, which I can never forget:-- 
"'The great wars of Romagna had ended; C?sar Borgia, who had completed his conquest, had need of money to purchase all Italy. The pope had also need of money to bring matters to an end with Louis XII. King of France, who was formidable still in spite of his recent reverses; and it was necessary, therefore, to have recourse to some profitable scheme, which was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished condition of exhausted Italy. His holiness had an idea. He determined to make two cardinals.' 
"By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome, especially rich men--this was the return the holy father looked for. In the first place, he could sell the great appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals already held; and then he had the two hats to sell besides. There was a third point in view, which will appear hereafter. The pope and C?sar Borgia first found the two future cardinals; they were Giovanni Rospigliosi, who held four of the highest dignities of the Holy See, and C?sar Spada, one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility; both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. They were ambitious, and C?sar Borgia soon found purchasers for their appointments. The result was, that Rospigliosi and Spada paid for being cardinals, and eight other persons paid for the offices the cardinals held before their elevation, and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the coffers of the speculators. 
"It is time now to proceed to the last part of the speculation. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and Spada, conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate, and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their residence at Rome. Then the pope and C?sar Borgia invited the two cardinals to dinner. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. C?sar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends, that is to say, in the first place, the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. This key was furnished with a small iron point,--a negligence on the part of the locksmith. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard, of which the lock was difficult, the person was pricked by this small point, and died next day. Then there was the ring with the lion's head, which C?sar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. The lion bit the hand thus favored, and at the end of twenty-four hours, the bite was mortal. C?sar proposed to his father, that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard, or shake hands with them; but Alexander VI., replied: 'Now as to the worthy cardinals, Spada and Rospigliosi, let us ask both of them to dinner, something tells me that we shall get that money back. Besides, you forget, C?sar, an indigestion declares itself immediately, while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two.' C?sar gave way before such cogent reasoning, and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. 
"The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope, near San Pierdarena, a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. Rospigliosi, quite set up with his new dignities, went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner. Spada, a prudent man, and greatly attached to his only nephew, a young captain of the highest promise, took paper and pen, and made his will. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard; but it appeared the servant did not find him. 
"Spada knew what these invitations meant; since Christianity, so eminently civilizing, had made progress in Rome, it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant with a message, 'C?sar wills that you die.' but it was a legate a latere, who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope, 'His holiness requests you to dine with him.' 
"Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena. The pope awaited him. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew, in full costume, and C?sar Borgia paying him most marked attentions. Spada turned pale, as C?sar looked at him with an ironical air, which proved that he had anticipated all, and that the snare was well spread. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. The nephew replied no; perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. It was too late, for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine, placed for him expressly by the pope's butler. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him, which he was pressed to taste. An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard; the nephew expired at his own door, making signs which his wife could not comprehend. 
"Then C?sar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage, under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. But the inheritance consisted in this only, a scrap of paper on which Spada had written:--'I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers, my books, and, amongst others, my breviary with the gold corners, which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle.' 
"The heirs sought everywhere, admired the breviary, laid hands on the furniture, and were greatly astonished that Spada, the rich man, was really the most miserable of uncles--no treasures--unless they were those of science, contained in the library and laboratories. That was all. C?sar and his father searched, examined, scrutinized, but found nothing, or at least very little; not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate, and about the same in ready money; but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: 'Look well among my uncle's papers; there is a will.' 
"They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done, but it was fruitless. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill; but in these days landed property had not much value, and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. Months and years rolled on. Alexander VI. died, poisoned,--you know by what mistake. C?sar, poisoned at the same time, escaped by shedding his skin like a snake; but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. Then, compelled to quit Rome, he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish, scarcely noticed in history. After the pope's death and his son's exile, it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before the cardinal's time; but this was not the case. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease, a mystery hung over this dark affair, and the public rumor was, that C?sar, a better politician than his father, had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I say the two, because Cardinal Rospigliosi, who had not taken any precaution, was completely despoiled. 
"Up to this point," said Faria, interrupting the thread of his narrative, "this seems to you very meaningless, no doubt, eh?" 
"Oh, my friend," cried Dantès, "on the contrary, it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative; go on, I beg of you." 
"I will." 
"The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. Years rolled on, and amongst the descendants some were soldiers, others diplomatists; some churchmen, some bankers; some grew rich, and some were ruined. I come now to the last of the family, whose secretary I was--the Count of Spada. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune; and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity. He did so, and thus doubled his income. The celebrated breviary remained in the family, and was in the count's possession. It had been handed down from father to son; for the singular clause of the only will that had been found, had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic, preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. It was an illuminated book, with beautiful Gothic characters, and so weighty with gold, that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. 
"At the sight of papers of all sorts,--titles, contracts, parchments, which were kept in the archives of the family, all descending from the poisoned cardinal, I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents, like twenty servitors, stewards, secretaries before me; but in spite of the most exhaustive researches, I found--nothing. Yet I had read, I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family, for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal C?sar Spada; but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi, his companion in misfortune. 
" I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family, but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights, which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. I searched, ransacked, counted, calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. It was useless. I remained in my ignorance, and the Count of Spada in his poverty. My patron died. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers, his library, composed of five thousand volumes, and his famous breviary. All these he bequeathed to me, with a thousand Roman crowns, which he had in ready money, on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul, and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. All this I did scrupulously. Be easy, my dear Edmond, we are near the conclusion. 
"In 1807, a month before I was arrested, and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada, on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory), I was reading, for the thousandth time, the papers I was arranging, for the palace was sold to a stranger, and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence, intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed, my library, and the famous breviary, when, tired with my constant labor at the same thing, and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten, my head dropped on my hands, and I fell asleep about three o'clock in the afternoon. I awoke as the clock was striking six. I raised my head; I was in utter darkness. I rang for a light, but as no one came, I determined to find one for myself. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. I took a wax-candle in one hand, and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty), with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. Fearing, however, to make use of any valuable piece of paper, I hesitated for a moment, then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary, which was on the table beside me, an old paper quite yellow with age, and which had served as a marker for centuries, kept there by the request of the heirs. I felt for it, found it, twisted it up together, and putting it into the expiring flame, set light to it. 
"But beneath my fingers, as if by magic, in proportion as the fire ascended, I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper. I grasped it in my hand, put out the flame as quickly as I could, lighted my taper in the fire itself, and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion, recognizing, when I had done so, that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink, only appearing when exposed to the fire; nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame. It was that paper you read this morning; read it again, Dantès, and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense." 
Faria, with an air of triumph, offered the paper to Dantès, who this time read the following words, traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust:-- 
"This 25th day of April, 1498, be... 
Alexander VI, and fearing that not... 
he may desire to become my heir, and re... 
and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,... 
my sole heir, that I have bu... 
and has visited with me, that is, in... 
Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss... 
jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone... 
may amount to nearly two mil... 
will find on raising the twentieth ro... 
creek to the east in a right line. Two open... 
in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a... 
which treasure I bequeath and leave en... 
as my sole heir. 
  
"C?s... 
"25th April, 1498. 
"And now," said the abbé, "read this other paper;" and he presented to Dantès a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it, which Edmond read as follows:-- 
"...ing invited to dine by his Holiness 
...content with making me pay for my hat, 
...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara 
...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada 
...ried in a place he knows 
...the caves of the small 
...essed of ingots, gold, money, 
...know of the existence of this treasure, which 
...lions of Roman crowns, and which he 
...ck from the small 
...ings have been made 
...ngle in the second; 
...tire to him 
...ar Spada." 
Faria followed him with an excited look. "and now," he said, when he saw that Dantès had read the last line, "put the two fragments together, and judge for yourself." Dantès obeyed, and the conjointed pieces gave the following:-- 
"This 25th day of April, 1498, be...ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI., and fearing that not...content with making me pay for my hat, he may desire to become my heir, and re...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada, my sole heir, that I have bu...ried in a place he knows and has visited with me, that is, in...the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss...ssed of ingots, gold, money, jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone...know of the existence of this treasure, which may amount to nearly two mil...lions of Roman crowns, and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro...ck from the small creek to the east in a right line. Two open...ings have been made in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a...ngle in the second; which treasure I bequeath and leave en...tire to him as my sole heir. 
"25th April, 1498. 
"C?s...ar Spada." 
"Well, do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria. 
"It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada, and the will so long sought for," replied Edmond, still incredulous. 
"Yes; a thousand times, yes!" 
"And who completed it as it now is?" 
"I did. Aided by the remaining fragment, I guessed the rest; measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper, and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed, as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us." 
"And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" 
"I resolved to set out, and did set out at that very instant, carrying with me the beginning of my great work, the unity of the Italian kingdom; but for some time the imperial police (who at this period, quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him, wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me; and my hasty departure, the cause of which they were unable to guess, having aroused their suspicions, I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino. 
"Now," continued Faria, addressing Dantès with an almost paternal expression, "now, my dear fellow, you know as much as I do myself. If we ever escape together, half this treasure is yours; if I die here, and you escape alone, the whole belongs to you." 
"But," inquired Dantès hesitating, "has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" 
"No, no, be easy on that score; the family is extinct. The last Count of Spada, moreover, made me his heir, bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary, he bequeathed to me all it contained; no, no, make your mind satisfied on that point. If we lay hands on this fortune, we may enjoy it without remorse." 
"And you say this treasure amounts to"-- 
"Two millions of Roman crowns; nearly thirteen millions of our money." [1] 
"Impossible!" said Dantès, staggered at the enormous amount. 
"Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. "The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century; and in those times, when other opportunities for investment were wanting, such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare; there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger, though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels, handed down by entail, and which they cannot touch." Edmond thought he was in a dream--he wavered between incredulity and joy. 
"I have only kept this secret so long from you," continued Faria, "that I might test your character, and then surprise you. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy, I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo; now," he added, with a sigh, "it is you who will conduct me thither. Well, Dantès, you do not thank me?" 
"This treasure belongs to you, my dear friend," replied Dantès, "and to you only. I have no right to it. I am no relation of yours." 
"You are my son, Dantès," exclaimed the old man. "You are the child of my captivity. My profession condemns me to celibacy. God has sent you to me to console, at one and the same time, the man who could not be a father, and the prisoner who could not get free." And Faria extended the arm of which alone the use remained to him to the young man who threw himself upon his neck and wept.  
第二天早晨，当唐太斯回到他难友的房间里时，他看见法利亚坐在那儿，神色安祥。一束阳光透过牢房那狭小的窗口射了进来，他左手拿着一张展开的纸，读者记得他只有这只手可以用了。这片纸因为先前一直被卷着，所以变成了一个卷，很不容易打开。他不说话，只把那张纸给唐太斯看。 
“那是什么？”后者问道。 
“看。”神甫微笑着。 
“我已经仔细地看过啦，”唐太斯说，“我只看到一张烧掉了一半的纸，上面有些哥拧体的文字，好象是用一种特别的墨水写的。” 
“这片纸，我的朋友，”法利亚说，“既然我已经考验过你了，现在可以把我的秘密告诉你了，这片纸就是我的宝藏。从今天起，这个宝藏的一半是属于你的了。”唐太斯的额头冒出一阵冷汗。到这一天为止，经过了这么长的一段时间，他始终避免和神甫谈及有关他的宝藏的事，因为这是他发疯的病根。 
生性谨慎的爱德蒙处处留意，避免触及这根痛苦的心弦，而法利亚在这方面也同样保持着沉默。他把神甫的这种沉默看作是理智的恢复，可现在，法利亚经过了这样痛苦的一场剧变以后又吐出了这些话，这说明他的神经错乱又复发了。 
“你的宝藏？”唐太斯结结巴巴地问道。 
法利亚微笑了一下。“是的，”他说，“你的心地的确很高尚，爱德蒙。因为我看你脸色苍白，浑身发抖，就知道你此刻心里在想些什么。不，你放心，我没有疯。这个宝藏的确存在，唐太斯。假如我不能去拥有它们，你可以去拥有它们，是的，你。 
谁都不相信我的话，因为他们以为我是疯子。但是你，你该知道我并没有疯，假如你愿意的话，你一定会相信的。” 
“糟糕！”爱德蒙喃喃地对自己说，“他的老病又犯了！我就差没得这种病了。”然后他大声说道，“我亲爱的朋友，你刚才发病时大概累着了，你先休息一会儿，好吧？假如你高兴，明天我再来听你讲。今天我只希望能好好地照料你。而且，”他又说，“宝藏对我们并不是很急迫的事呀。” 
“非常紧急，爱德蒙！”神甫回答说。“谁知道我的病会不会在明天或后天第三次发作呢？那时就一切都完啦。这些财宝可使十家人变成巨富，我常常想，就让它们永远埋没吧，决不能让那些迫害我的人得到它们，每有这种想法，心里虽不免带点苦味，却还觉得相当畅快。这种想法也满足了我的报复心，我在这黑牢的夜里在这囚禁生活的绝望中，正在慢慢地体味其中的快意。但是现在，我已因为出于对你的爱宽恕了世界。 
现在，我看到你还很年轻，前途远大，我想，这个秘密一经泄露，你就可以得到一切幸福，我深怕再耽误一分钟一秒钟，深怕失掉象你这样一个可敬的人来拥有这样巨大的宝藏。” 
爱德蒙扭过头去叹息了一声。 
“你仍然不肯相信，爱德蒙，”法利亚继续说道。“我的话还无法使你相信。看来你需要证据。好吧，那么，且念一念这张纸吧，这张纸我从没给别人看过。” 
“明天吧，我亲爱的朋友，”爱德蒙说，他不愿顺从神甫的疯狂。“我们已说定到明天再去谈它嘛。” 
“那就把它留到明天再谈吧，但今天先念一念这张纸吧。” 
“别惹他生气。”爱德蒙心里想，于是便接过那张缺了一半，显然因为某次意外而被火烧过的纸来，念道—— 
今日为一四九八年四月历山大六世之邀，应召赴宴，献之款，而望成为吾之继承人，则将凯普勒拉及宾铁伏格里奥归于被毒死者），吾今向吾之帕达，宣布：吾曾在一彼所知地点（在基督山小岛之洞窟银条，金块，宝石，钻石，美余一人知之，其总值约及罗马艾居二开岛东小港右手第二十块岩洞口二处；宝藏系在第二洞口最吾全部遗与吾之惟一继承人。 
凯 
一四九八年四月二十五日 
“怎么样？”法利亚在年轻人读完以后问道。 
“可是，”唐太斯答道，“我看到的只不过是一张被火烧掉了一半的，上面是一些意义不明的断句残字呀。” 
“是的，我的朋友，对你是这样，因为你才第一次读到它。 
但对我却不然，我曾费尽心血，熬了许多个夜晚来研究它，把每一个句子都重新写了出来，把每一处意思都作了完整的补充。” 
“你认为你已经找到了另一半的意思了吗？” 
“我完全可以肯定，你可以自己来判断，但先来听我讲一讲这张纸的来历吧。” 
“别出声！”唐太斯轻声叫道。“有脚步声！我走啦再会！” 
说着唐太斯象一条蛇似地钻进了狭窄的地道里，他很高兴能逃避去听那个故事和解释，因为这些只能使他更加确信他的难友又犯病了；至于法利亚，他在惊惶之中倒恢复了一种活力，他用脚把那块石头推到原位，又拿一张草席盖在上面，使它不易被发现。 
来者是监狱长，他从狱卒那儿得知了法利亚的病情，所以亲自来看看他。 
法利亚坐起身来见他，尽量避免做出任何引起怀疑的举动，他向典狱长隐瞒了他这半身瘫痪的实情。他深恐典狱长会对他萌发恻隐之心。把他换到一间较好的牢房里去那样就会把他和他的年轻伙伴分开。幸亏这种事并没有发生，监狱长离开他的时候认为那个可怜的疯子只是身体略感不适而已，心里倒也有一些同情他。 
但此时，爱德蒙正坐在床上，双手捧着头，竭力在聚精会神地回想。自从他认识法利亚以来，觉得后者身上一切都显得那样的理智、伟大和崇高，他不懂为什么一个在各方面都这样富于智慧的人竟会在某一点上失去理智。究竟是法利亚被他的宝藏所迷惑了呢，还是全世界都误解了法利亚？ 
唐太斯整个白天都呆在他的牢房里，不敢再回到他的朋友那儿去心想这样就可以拖延一些时候，使自己慢一点来证实神甫真的疯了，他是多么怕证实这一点！ 
到了傍晚时分，常规的查监过后，法利亚不见年轻人过来，就试着自己去穿过那条通道。他的一条腿已不能动弹了，一只手臂也已不能再用了，所以他只能拖着身子爬过来。爱德蒙一听到神甫那痛苦挣扎的声音，就不禁打了个寒颤。他不得不勉强迎上前去帮他一把，因为否则老人是无法从那通向唐太斯房间的小洞口钻过来的。 
“我来了，不顾一切地追到你这儿来了，”他慈祥地向他笑着说。“你以为可以逃避我慷慨的馈赠，但这是没有用的。听我说吧。” 
爱德蒙看到已无法逃避，便扶神甫坐到他的床上，自己则拖过长登坐在他的旁边。“你知道，”神甫说道，“我是红衣主教斯帕达的秘书，也是他的密友，而他是斯帕达亲王这一族中最后的一位。我一生的全部幸福都是这位可敬的爵爷所赐于的。 
尽管我曾时常听人说‘象斯帕达那样富有但他本人并不富有，外面有此谣言所以他也就在一个富有的虚名下生活。他的宫殿就是我的天堂。我曾教过他的侄子，那个人现在已经死了。 
当他只剩下孤家寡人的时候，我就回到了他那儿，决心要照料他，以此来报答十年来他对我的恩情。红衣主教的家事我简直可以说无所不知。我常常看到我那高贵的爵爷在辛辛苦苦地注释古书，费劲地在灰尘之中翻寻祖先的遗稿。有一天，我埋怨他不该作这种于事无益的搜寻，以致把自己弄得身心疲惫，他看了看我，然后苦笑着打开一大卷述及罗马城历史的书。他翻到书中记述教皇亚历山大六世生平的第二十九章，上面有这么几句话，那是我永远也忘不了的。 
“‘罗马尼大战业已结束。凯撒·布琪亚完成其征服事业以后，急需款子购买意大利全境。教皇便急需款子摆脱法国国王路易十二，故必须借助于某种有利的交易活动，然而在意大利遍地穷困之状况下，此事极其为难。教皇陛下想到了一个主意，决定册封两位红衣主教’”。 
“假如在罗马挑选两个伟大的人物，尤其是大富翁，则圣父［教皇亚历山大六世］就可以从这项交易里获到以下利益。第一，他可以把这两个红衣主教属下的大官美缺出卖；第二是红衣主教这两顶高帽子也可以卖不少钱。这项交易还有第三种好处，下面将要讲到。教皇和凯撒·布琪亚先找到了这两位未来的红衣主教，他们是琪恩·罗斯辟格里奥赛和凯撒·斯帕达，前者已在教廷里挂着四种最高的头衔，后者则是罗马贵族中最高贵和最富有的。两位都对教皇的这种情意感到无上的光荣。他们都是很有野心的。这事一经确定，凯撒·布琪亚不久就又找到了出钱买红衣主教手下官职的人。结果是罗斯辟格里奥赛和斯帕达花钱当上了红衣主教，而在他们还不曾正式荣升之前，已另外有八个人花钱当了主教以前所托的职位，而八十万艾居就此进了这笔交易的卖主的金库里。 
“现在该讲讲这项交易的最后一部分了。教皇对罗斯辟格里奥赛和斯巴达，既赐他们以红衣主教的勋章，又劝他们把不动产都变卖成现钱，使他们在罗马定居下来，教皇和凯撒·布琪亚还设宴招待这两位红衣主教。这是圣父和他的儿子［指凯撒·布琪亚。］之间的一场争论。凯撒心里可以使用对付他的老朋友的一个惯用手法。即可以用那把出了名的钥匙，他们请某个人拿了这把钥匙去打开一只指定的碗柜。这把钥匙上有一个小小的铁刺，那是锁匠一时疏忽留下来的。那把锁很难开，当这个人用力去开碗柜的时候，钥匙上的小刺就刺破了他的皮，而他第二天他必将死去。此外还有那只狮头戒指，凯撒每当要与人紧紧握手的时候就把它戴上。狮头便会咬破那只承恩的手，而在二十四小时以后，那咬破的小伤口便会致命。所以凯撒向他的父亲建议，或是请这两位红衣主教去开碗柜，或是与他们每人亲热地紧握一次手。但亚历山大六世回答他说：‘想到罗斯辟格里奥赛和斯帕达这两位可敬的红衣主教，我们就别计较一顿晚宴的费用了。我总觉得，我们可以把他们的钱弄过来的。而且，你忘记啦，凯撒，消化不良会立刻发作的，而刺一下或咬一下却要在一两天以后才能见结果。’凯撒听了这番头头是道的话后就让步了。两位红衣主教要因此就被邀赴宴了。 
“宴席摆在圣皮埃尔—埃里斯兰宫附近教皇的一个葡萄园里，两位红衣主教早就听说那是一个很幽静可爱的地方。罗斯辟格里奥赛真是受宠若惊，乐得忘乎所以了，他穿上最漂亮的衣服，准备赴宴。斯帕达却是一个很谨慎小心的人，他只有一个侄子，是一个前途远大的青年军官，他对他极其钟爱，所以他拿出笔和纸，写下了他的遗嘱。然后就派人去找他的侄子，要他在葡萄园附近等候他，可是仆人似乎没有找到他。“斯帕达很清楚这种邀请的意义。自基督教问世以来，罗马的文明已大有进步了，现在不再会有一个百夫长来传达暴君的口信：‘凯撒赐你死！’而是由教皇派来一个特使，面带微笑地说：‘教皇陛下请你去赴宴。’“斯帕达在两点钟左右动身到了圣皮埃尔斯里安宫的葡萄园里。教皇已在等着他了。斯帕达第一眼看到的人就是他那穿着全套盛装的侄子，和对他虎视眈眈地望着他的凯撒·布琪亚。斯帕达的脸立刻变青了，而凯撒却带着一种讥讽的神色望了望他，证明一切都不出他之所料，天罗地网已经布下了。他们开始进餐，斯帕达只来得及问了他的侄子一句话，问他有没有接到他的口信，侄子回答说没有，他已完全明白了这句问话的意义。但是太晚啦，因为他已经喝下了一杯教皇膳食总管特地捧到他面前的美酒。同时，斯帕达看见他自己的面前又添了一瓶酒，他被劝喝了几大杯。一小时以后，医生宣布他们两个人都因食有了羊脏菌而中毒身亡。斯帕达死在葡萄园的门口。他的侄子在他自己的家门口断的气，临死前还做了一些手势，但他的妻子不懂其中的含意。 
“凯撒和教皇迫不及待去抢遗产，借口是去找死者的文件。但遗产仅止于此，即斯帕达在一小片纸上写到：吾将吾之库藏及书籍赠与吾所钟爱之侄，其中有吾之金角祈祷书一本，吾盼其能善为保存，借作其爱叔之留念。 
抢夺遗产者四处寻找，仔仔细细地翻看了那本祈祷书，又把家具都翻来复去的察看了一遍，他们不由得都大吃一惊，原来这位以富有闻名的叔父斯巴达，实际上却是一位最可怜的叔父。说到财宝，除了那些在图书馆和实验室里的科学珍品以外，别的一点都没有。事情就是这样：凯撒和他的父亲到处寻找，到处搜查，到处仔细地察看，但却什么也没找到，或者说东西少得可怜，只有几千艾居的金条，和大约相同数目的现钱。 
不过侄子在他断气以前，还来得及对他的妻子说过一句话：‘仔细在我叔父的文件里找，里面有真正的遗嘱。’“他们又去寻找，甚至比那两位尊严的继承人找得还彻底，但仍然是毫无结果。王府后面有两座宫殿和一个葡萄园，但当时不动产还不那么值钱，不能满足教皇和他儿子的胃口，这两座宫殿和那葡萄园仍归家族所有。光阴似水流过，亚历山大六世死了，是中毒死的，你知道那是怎么错杀了的。凯撒也同时中了毒，不过他的皮肤并没有变成蛇皮的颜色，毒药只使他的皮肤起了很多斑点，象蒙上了一张老虎皮一样。于是，他被迫离开罗马，在一次精历史学家所遗忘的夜间的小战斗中被人莫名其妙地打死了。在教皇去世和他的儿子被放逐以后，大家以为斯怕达这一族又要象他们当红衣主教那个时代那样发达起来了，但事实却并不如此。斯帕达这一族人依旧只是勉强过得去，这桩黑暗的事件始终被笼罩在迷中雾中。一般的谣传是，那政治手腕比他父亲高强的凯撒已从教皇那儿夺了两位红衣主教的财产带走了。我说两位，是指还有那位红衣主教罗斯辟格里奥赛，他由于事先毫无准备，所以完全被抢光了。” 
“讲到这里为止，”法利亚打断自己的话头说，“你一定觉得这非常荒唐吧？” 
“噢，我的朋友，”唐太斯说道，“正相反，我好象是在读一本最有趣的故事，请你说下去吧。” 
“我继续说下去，斯帕达这家族的人开始习惯于这种平庸的生活了。许多年又过去了，在他们后代之中，有的当了军人，有的当了外交家，有的当了教士，有成了银行家，有的发了财，有的破了产。我现在要讲的是这个家族的最后一位，就是斯帕达伯爵，我当过他的秘书，常常听到他抱怨，说他的爵位和他的财产太不相称。我就劝他把全部财产都变成定期存款。他照办了，因此收入就增加了一倍。那本著名的祈祷书仍由这个家族的人保存着，现在已归伯爵所有。这是由父传子，子传孙一路传下来的，由于所找到的遗嘱上有那么一句话，所以它变成了一件真正的传家之宝，族里的人都带着迷信的崇敬之感把它好好地保存着。这本书上的大写字母都是用金银彩色写成的，全书都是美丽的歌特体的文字，由于包金的缘故，份量很重，所以每到大的日子，总得由一个仆人把它捧到红衣主教面前。” 
“那各种各样的文件，有诏书，契约，公文等，这一切都藏在档案柜里，从那被毒死的红衣主教开始一直传下来，全族人的文件都在这里了，我也象在我以前的那二十位侍仆，管家和秘书一样，把那庞大的文件堆又查看了一遍。虽说我经过了最认真仔细的研究，但结果还是一场空。我把布琪亚那个家族人的历史详详细细地读了一遍，甚至还把它写成了一部书，唯一的目的，就是想研究出他们有没有因红衣主教凯撒·斯帕达的死而增加了任何财富。但我发现他们只得了他的同难人红衣主教罗斯辟格里奥赛的产业。” 
“当时我就几乎肯定，那笔遗产并没有被布琪亚那一族人或他的本族人得去那依旧是一笔无主之财，象《一千零一夜》故事里的宝藏一样，仍在大地的怀抱里，由一个魔鬼看守着。 
我无数次地搜索考查，把那一族人三百年来的收入和支出算了又算，简直不下千百次，还是没有用。我仍然茫然无所知，而斯帕达伯爵仍然穷困潦倒。我的东家死了。他除了定期存款以外，还保存着他的家族文件，他那藏有五千卷书的图书和他那著名的祈祷书。这一切他都遗赠了给我，还有一笔一千罗马艾居的现款，条件是要我每年给他举行一次弥撒，祈祷他的灵魂安息，并叫我给他编一本族谱，写一部家史。这一切我都一丝不苟的照办了。别着急，我亲爱的爱德蒙，我们就要讲到最后这段了。” 
“一八○七年十二月二十五日，在我被捕的前一个月，也就是斯帕达伯爵去世后的第十五天，你看，那个日期在我的记忆里印得多深刻，我一边整理文件，一边把这些读过千百次的东西又看了一遍，因为那座宫殿已卖给了一个陌生人，我就要离开罗马，去定居在佛罗伦萨，同时准备带走我所有的一万二千里弗，我的藏书和那本著名的祈祷书，由于长时间的翻阅这些资料，我感到疲倦极了，加之午餐又吃得太饱，所以我竟用手垫着头睡过去了，那时约莫下午三点钟。当我醒来的时候，时钟正敲六点。我抬起头来，四周是一片黑暗。我拉铃叫人拿灯来，但没有人来，我就决定自己去弄一个。这原是一种哲学家的脾气，但这时我是非这样做不可了。我用一手拿着一支蜡烛，由于我的火柴盒子已经空了，一手去摸索一片纸，想拿它到壁炉的余火里去点燃。我担心在黑暗之中用掉的是一张有价值的纸，所以我迟疑了一会儿，然后想到，在那本著名的祈祷书里我曾见过一张因年代久远而发黄了的纸片，这张纸片，几世纪来都被人当作书签用，只是由于世代子孙尊重遗物，所以还把它保存在那儿。那本祈祷书就在我身旁的桌子上，我摸索了一会儿，找到了那张纸，把它扭成一条，按到将熄的火焰上面，点燃了它。” 
“但在我的手指底下，象施了魔法似的，当那火苗窜起的时候，只见纸上现出了淡黄色的字迹。我吓了一跳。赶急把那张纸抓在手里，扑灭了火，直接点燃了那支小蜡烛，然后带着难以表达的激动心情摊开了那张扭皱了的纸。我发觉那上面的字是用神秘的隐显墨水写的，只有拿到火上去烘才会显现出来。那张纸有三分之一多一点已被火烧掉了。剩下的就是你今天早晨的那张碎纸片，把它再念一遍吧，唐太斯，读过以后我再把那些残破的句子和互不连贯的意义给你补充上。” 
法利亚洋洋得意地把那张纸交给了唐太斯，后者这次又把下列这些铁锈色的字句读了一遍：—— 
今日为一四九八年四月历山大六世之邀，应召赴宴，献之款，而望成为吾之继承人，则将凯普勒拉及宾铁伏格里奥归于被毒死者），吾今向吾之帕达，宣布：吾曾在一彼所知地点（在基督山小岛之洞窟银条，金块，宝石，钻石，美余一人知之，其总值约及罗马艾居二开岛东小港右手第二十块岩洞口二处；宝藏系在第二洞口最吾全部遗与吾之惟一继承人。 
凯 
一四九八年四月二十五日 
“现在，”神甫说，“再念一念这张纸；”说着他把第二张纸给了唐太斯，那上面也有一些残缺的句子，爱德蒙读道：——二十五日，吾受教皇圣下亚恐彼或不满于吾捐衔所令吾与红衣主教同一之命运（彼二人系惟一继承人，吾侄葛陀·斯悉并曾与吾同往游览之中）埋藏余所有之全部金玉；此项宝藏之存在仅百万；彼仅须打石，即可获得。此窟共有深之一角；此项宝藏撒十斯帕达 
法利亚用兴奋的目光注视着他。“现在，”当他看到唐太斯已念到最后一行的时候说，“把两片残纸拼拢起来，你就可以自己判断了。”唐太斯照着做了，合起来的那两片纸上的内容如下： 
今日为一四九八年四月——二十五日，吾受教皇圣下亚历山大六世之邀，应召赴宴，——恐彼或不满于吾捐衔所献之款，而望成为吾之继承人，则将——令吾与红衣主教凯普勒拉及宾铁伏格里奥归于——同一之命运（彼二人系被毒死者），吾今向吾之——惟一继承人，吾侄葛陀·斯帕达，宣布：吾曾在一彼所知——悉并曾与吾同往游览之地点（在基督山小岛之洞窟——中）埋藏吾所有之全部金银条，金块，宝石，钻石，美——玉；此项宝藏之存在仅吾一人知之，其总值约及罗马艾居二——百万；彼仅须打开鸟东小港右手第二十块岩——石，即可获得。此窟共有洞口二处；宝藏系在第二洞口最——深之一角；此项宝藏吾全部遗赠与吾之惟一继承人。 
凯——撒十斯巴达 
  
  
一四九八年四月二十五日 
“好，现在你明白了吧？”法利亚问道。 
“这就是红衣主教斯帕达的声明，也就是人们找了那么久的遗嘱吗？”唐太斯问道，他心里依旧是半信半疑的。 
“是呀！千真万确！” 
“谁把它补充成现在这个样子的？” 
“我，凭借那残余的半张。我把其余的部猜了出来，从那张纸的长度，测出句子的长短，再根据字面上的含义推敲出隐去的意思，就好象我们在岩洞里凭着顶上的一线微光摸路一样的把它摸索了出来。” 
“你得到这个结果以后又做了些什么呢？” 
“我决定马上出发，当时即刻就出发了，身边只带着我那本论统一意大利那篇巨著的前几章。但帝国的警务部长却早已在注意我了，他当时的意见恰巧和拿破仑相反，拿破仑是希望生一个儿子来统一意大利，而他却希望造成割据的局面。而我这样子行色匆匆，他们猜不出原因，就起了疑心，所以我刚一离开皮昂比诺就被捕了。现在，”法利亚以慈父般的表情对唐太斯继续说道，“现在，我的朋友，你知道得和我一样清楚了。假如我们能一起逃走，这个宝藏的一半就是你的了，假如我死在这儿，你一个人逃出去那么就全部归你了。” 
“可是，”唐太斯吞吞吐吐地问道，“这个宝藏除了我们以外，难道世界上就没有更合法的主人了吗？” 
“没有了，没有了这方面你放心好了，那个家族已经绝后了。再说，最后一代的斯帕达伯爵又指定我为他的继承人，把这本有象征意义的祈祷书遗赠给了我，他把这本书里所有的一切都遗赠了给我。不要紧，不要紧，放心好了，假如我们得到了这笔财富，我们大可问心无愧地享用它。” 
“你说这个宝藏价值——？” 
“两百万罗马艾居，照我们的钱算，约等于一千三百万埃居。” 
“不可能！”唐太斯被这个天文数字吓得叫出了声。 
“不可能！为什么？”神甫问道。“斯巴达家族人是十五世纪最古老，最强盛的家族之一。而在当时，没有金融交易和工业，所以积攒那些金银珠宝并不为奇。就是在当今，也有些罗马家族几乎都快饿死了，可他们还有价值百万的钻石珠宝，那是当作传家之宝世代传下来的，他们是不能动用的。” 
爱德蒙仿费是在做梦，他时而怀疑，时而兴奋。 
“我把这个秘密对你保守了这么久，”法利亚继续说道，“只是为了我要考验一下你这个人，然后让你吃一惊。要是在我的病没有再发作以前我们就逃了出去我会把你带到基督山岛去的，现在，”他长叹了一声，又说，“是要你带我到那儿去了。喂！唐太斯，你还没有谢谢我呢。” 
 “这个宝藏是属于你的，我亲爱的朋友，”唐太斯答道，“而且只属于你一个人。我没有任何权利。我又不是你的亲人。” 
“你是我的儿子呀，唐太斯！”神甫喊道。“你是我囚禁生活中的儿子。我的职业决定了我只能过独身生活。上帝派你来抚慰我，来抚慰我这个不能做父亲的人和不能得到自由的囚徒。”说着法利亚就把他那条还能动的手臂向年轻人伸去后者扑上去抱住他的脖子，哭了起来。 
Chapter 19 The Third Attack
 NOW THAT this treasure, which had so long been the object of the abbé's meditations, could insure the future happiness of him whom Faria really loved as a son, it had doubled its value in his eyes, and every day he expatiated on the amount, explaining to Dantès all the good which, with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs, a man could do in these days to his friends; and then Dantès' countenance became gloomy, for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory, and he reflected how much ill, in these times, a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. 
The abbé did not know the Island of Monte Cristo; but Dantès knew it, and had often passed it, situated twenty-five miles from Pianosa, between Corsica and the Island of Elba, and had once touched there. This island was, always had been, and still is, completely deserted. It is a rock of almost conical form, which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. Dantès drew a plan of the island for Faria, and Faria gave Dantès advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. But Dantès was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic, and the way in which he had achieved the discovery, which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness, increased Edmond's admiration of him; but at the same time Dantès could not believe that the deposit, supposing it had ever existed, still existed; and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical, he yet believed it was no longer there. 
However, as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance, and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment, a new misfortune befell them; the gallery on the sea side, which had long been in ruins, was rebuilt. They had repaired it completely, and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantès had partly filled in. But for this precaution, which, it will be remembered, the abbé had made to Edmond, the misfortune would have been still greater, for their attempt to escape would have been detected, and they would undoubtedly have been separated. Thus a new, a stronger, and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes. 
"You see," said the young man, with an air of sorrowful resignation, to Faria, "that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. I have promised to remain forever with you, and now I could not break my promise if I would. The treasure will be no more mine than yours, and neither of us will quit this prison. But my real treasure is not that, my dear friend, which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo, it is your presence, our living together five or six hours a day, in spite of our jailers; it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain, the languages you have implanted in my memory, and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them, and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them--this is my treasure, my beloved friend, and with this you have made me rich and happy. Believe me, and take comfort, this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds, even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea, which we take for terra firma, and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. To have you as long as possible near me, to hear your eloquent speech,--which embellishes my mind, strengthens my soul, and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things, if I should ever be free,--so fills my whole existence, that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you, has no longer any hold over me; and this--this is my fortune--not chimerical, but actual. I owe you my real good, my present happiness; and all the sovereigns of the earth, even C?sar Borgia himself, could not deprive me of this." 
Thus, if not actually happy, yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. Faria, who for so long a time had kept silence as to the treasure, now perpetually talked of it. As he had prophesied would be the case, he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg, and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion, and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen, he compelled Dantès to learn it by heart; and Dantès knew it from the first to the last word. Then he destroyed the second portion, assured that if the first were seized, no one would be able to discover its real meaning. Whole hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions to Dantès,--instructions which were to serve him when he was at liberty. Then, once free, from the day and hour and moment when he was so, he could have but one only thought, which was, to gain Monte Cristo by some means, and remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions; and once there, to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns, and search in the appointed spot,--the appointed spot, be it remembered, being the farthest angle in the second opening. 
In the meanwhile the hours passed, if not rapidly, at least tolerably. Faria, as we have said, without having recovered the use of his hand and foot, had regained all the clearness of his understanding, and had gradually, besides the moral instructions we have detailed, taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner, who learns to make something from nothing. They were thus perpetually employed,--Faria, that he might not see himself grow old; Dantès, for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. So life went on for them as it does for those who are not victims of misfortune and whose activities glide along mechanically and tranquilly beneath the eye of providence. 
But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man, and perhaps in that of the old man, many repressed desires, many stifled sighs, which found vent when Faria was left alone, and when Edmond returned to his cell. One night Edmond awoke suddenly, believing that he heard some one calling him. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. His name, or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name, reached him. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria's dungeon. "Alas," murmured Edmond; "can it be?" 
He moved his bed, drew up the stone, rushed into the passage, and reached the opposite extremity; the secret entrance was open. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp, of which we have spoken, Dantès saw the old man, pale, but yet erect, clinging to the bedstead. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew, and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. 
"Alas, my dear friend," said Faria in a resigned tone, "you understand, do you not, and I need not attempt to explain to you?" 
Edmond uttered a cry of agony, and, quite out of his senses, rushed towards the door, exclaiming, "Help, help!" Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him. 
"Silence," he said, "or you are lost. We must now only think of you, my dear friend, and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible. It would require years to do again what I have done here, and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. Besides, be assured, my dear Edmond, the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty; some other unfortunate being will soon take my place, and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. Perhaps he will be young, strong, and enduring, like yourself, and will aid you in your escape, while I have been but a hindrance. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements. At length providence has done something for you; he restores to you more than he takes away, and it was time I should die." 
Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim, "Oh, my friend, my friend, speak not thus!" and then resuming all his presence of mind, which had for a moment staggered under this blow, and his strength, which had failed at the words of the old man, he said, "Oh, I have saved you once, and I will save you a second time!" And raising the foot of the bed, he drew out the phial, still a third filled with the red liquor. 
"See," he exclaimed, "there remains still some of the magic draught. Quick, quick! tell me what I must do this time; are there any fresh instructions? Speak, my friend; I listen." 
"There is not a hope," replied Faria, shaking his head, "but no matter; God wills it that man whom he has created, and in whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life, should do all in his power to preserve that existence, which, however painful it may be, is yet always so dear." 
"Oh, yes, yes!" exclaimed Dantès; "and I tell you that I will save you yet." 
"Well, then, try. The cold gains upon me. I feel the blood flowing towards my brain. These horrible chills, which make my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones, begin to pervade my whole frame; in five minutes the malady will reach its height, and in a quarter of an hour there will be nothing left of me but a corpse." 
"Oh!" exclaimed Dantès, his heart wrung with anguish. 
"Do as you did before, only do not wait so long, all the springs of life are now exhausted in me, and death," he continued, looking at his paralyzed arm and leg, "has but half its work to do. If, after having made me swallow twelve drops instead of ten, you see that I do not recover, then pour the rest down my throat. Now lift me on my bed, for I can no longer support myself." 
Edmond took the old man in his arms, and laid him on the bed. 
"And now, my dear friend," said Faria, "sole consolation of my wretched existence,--you whom heaven gave me somewhat late, but still gave me, a priceless gift, and for which I am most grateful,--at the moment of separating from you forever, I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity you so well deserve. My son, I bless thee!" The young man cast himself on his knees, leaning his head against the old man's bed. 
"Listen, now, to what I say in this my dying moment. The treasure of the Spadas exists. God grants me the boon of vision unrestricted by time or space. I see it in the depths of the inner cavern. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of the earth, and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. If you do escape, remember that the poor abbé, whom all the world called mad, was not so. Hasten to Monte Cristo--avail yourself of the fortune--for you have indeed suffered long enough." A violent convulsion attacked the old man. Dantès raised his head and saw Faria's eyes injected with blood. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended from the chest to the head. 
"Adieu, adieu!" murmured the old man, clasping Edmond's hand convulsively--"adieu!" 
"Oh, no,--no, not yet," he cried; "do not forsake me! Oh, succor him! Help--help--help!" 
"Hush--hush!" murmured the dying man, "that they may not separate us if you save me!" 
"You are right. Oh, yes, yes; be assured I shall save you! Besides, although you suffer much, you do not seem to be in such agony as you were before." 
"Do not mistake. I suffer less because there is in me less strength to endure. At your age we have faith in life; it is the privilege of youth to believe and hope, but old men see death more clearly. Oh, 'tis here--'tis here--'tis over--my sight is gone--my senses fail! Your hand, Dantès! Adieu--adieu!" And raising himself by a final effort, in which he summoned all his faculties, he said,--"Monte Cristo, forget not Monte Cristo!" And he fell back on the bed. The crisis was terrible, and a rigid form with twisted limbs, swollen eyelids, and lips flecked with bloody foam, lay on the bed of torture, in place of the intellectual being who so lately rested there. 
Dantès took the lamp, placed it on a projecting stone above the bed, whence its tremulous light fell with strange and fantastic ray on the distorted countenance and motionless, stiffened body. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the moment for administering the restorative. 
When he believed that the right moment had arrived, he took the knife, pried open the teeth, which offered less resistance than before, counted one after the other twelve drops, and watched; the phial contained, perhaps, twice as much more. He waited ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, half an hour,--no change took place. Trembling, his hair erect, his brow bathed with perspiration, he counted the seconds by the beating of his heart. Then he thought it was time to make the last trial, and he put the phial to the purple lips of Faria, and without having occasion to force open his jaws, which had remained extended, he poured the whole of the liquid down his throat. 
The draught produced a galvanic effect, a violent trembling pervaded the old man's limbs, his eyes opened until it was fearful to gaze upon them, he heaved a sigh which resembled a shriek, and then his convulsed body returned gradually to its former immobility, the eyes remaining open. 
Half an hour, an hour, an hour and a half elapsed, and during this period of anguish, Edmond leaned over his friend, his hand applied to his heart, and felt the body gradually grow cold, and the heart's pulsation become more and more deep and dull, until at length it stopped; the last movement of the heart ceased, the face became livid, the eyes remained open, but the eyeballs were glazed. It was six o'clock in the morning, the dawn was just breaking, and its feeble ray came into the dungeon, and paled the ineffectual light of the lamp. Strange shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man, and at times gave it the appearance of life. While the struggle between day and night lasted, Dantès still doubted; but as soon as the daylight gained the pre-eminence, he saw that he was alone with a corpse. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him, and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed, he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes, which he tried many times to close, but in vain--they opened again as soon as shut. He extinguished the lamp, carefully concealed it, and then went away, closing as well as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. 
It was time, for the jailer was coming. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantès' cell, and on leaving him he went on to Faria's dungeon, taking thither breakfast and some linen. Nothing betokened that the man know anything of what had occurred. He went on his way. 
Dantès was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery, and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey, who called out for help. Other turnkeys came, and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. Last of all came the governor. 
Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse, heard the voice of the governor, who asked them to throw water on the dead man's face; and seeing that, in spite of this application, the prisoner did not recover, they sent for the doctor. The governor then went out, and words of pity fell on Dantès' listening ears, mingled with brutal laughter. 
"Well, well," said one, "the madman has gone to look after his treasure. Good journey to him!" 
"With all his millions, he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!" said another. 
"Oh," added a third voice, "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If are not dear!" 
"Perhaps," said one of the previous speakers, "as he was a churchman, they may go to some expense in his behalf." 
"They may give him the honors of the sack." 
Edmond did not lose a word, but comprehended very little of what was said. The voices soon ceased, and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell. Still he dared not to enter, as they might have left some turnkey to watch the dead. He remained, therefore, mute and motionless, hardly venturing to breathe. At the end of an hour, he heard a faint noise, which increased. It was the governor who returned, followed by the doctor and other attendants. There was a moment's silence,--it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body. The inquiries soon commenced. 
The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed, and declared that he was dead. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantès indignant, for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbé a love and respect equal to his own. 
"I am very sorry for what you tell me," said the governor, replying to the assurance of the doctor, "that the old man is really dead; for he was a quiet, inoffensive prisoner, happy in his folly, and required no watching." 
"Ah," added the turnkey, "there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years, I'll answer for it, without any attempt to escape." 
"Still," said the governor, "I believe it will be requisite, notwithstanding your certainty, and not that I doubt your science, but in discharge of my official duty, that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead." There was a moment of complete silence, during which Dantès, still listening, knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time. 
"You may make your mind easy," said the doctor; "he is dead. I will answer for that." 
"You know, sir," said the governor, persisting, "that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. In spite of all appearances, be so kind, therefore, as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law." 
"Let the irons be heated," said the doctor; "but really it is a useless precaution." This order to heat the irons made Dantès shudder. He heard hasty steps, the creaking of a door, people going and coming, and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered, saying,-- 
"Here is the brazier, lighted." There was a moment's silence, and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh, of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantès was listening in horror. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow, and he felt as if he should faint. 
"You see, sir, he is really dead," said the doctor; "this burn in the heel is decisive. The poor fool is cured of his folly, and delivered from his captivity." 
"Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor. 
"Yes, sir; and, as he said, it was an ancient name. He was, too, very learned, and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his treasure; but on that, indeed, he was intractable." 
"It is the sort of malady which we call monomania," said the doctor. 
"You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor to the jailer who had charge of the abbé. 
"Never, sir," replied the jailer, "never; on the contrary, he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. One day, too, when my wife was ill, he gave me a prescription which cured her." 
"Ah, ah!" said the doctor, "I did not know that I had a rival; but I hope, governor, that you will show him all proper respect." 
"Yes, yes, make your mind easy, he shall be decently interred in the newest sack we can find. Will that satisfy you?" 
"Must this last formality take place in your presence, sir?" inquired a turnkey. 
"Certainly. But make haste--I cannot stay here all day." Other footsteps, going and coming, were now heard, and a moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached Dantès' ears, the bed creaked, and the heavy footfall of a man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor; then the bed again creaked under the weight deposited upon it. 
"This evening," said the governor. 
"Will there be any mass?" asked one of the attendants. 
"That is impossible," replied the governor. "The chaplain of the Chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of absence, in order to take a trip to Hyères for a week. I told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence. If the poor abbé had not been in such a hurry, he might have had his requiem." 
"Pooh, pooh;" said the doctor, with the impiety usual in persons of his profession; "he is a churchman. God will respect his profession, and not give the devil the wicked delight of sending him a priest." A shout of laughter followed this brutal jest. Meanwhile the operation of putting the body in the sack was going on. 
"This evening," said the governor, when the task was ended. 
"At what hour?" inquired a turnkey. 
"Why, about ten or eleven o'clock." 
"Shall we watch by the corpse?" 
"Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive--that is all." Then the steps retreated, and the voices died away in the distance; the noise of the door, with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased, and a silence more sombre than that of solitude ensued,--the silence of death, which was all-pervasive, and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantès. Then he raised the flag-stone cautiously with his head, and looked carefully around the chamber. It was empty, and Dantès emerged from the tunnel.  
长久以来，神甫一直在沉思默想这个宝藏，现在，他终于能用它来保证他爱如己子的唐太斯的未来的幸福了。于是，在法利亚的眼中无形中宝藏的价值增加了一倍，他每天絮絮叨叨谈论它的数目，向唐太斯解释，在当个这个时代，一个人拥有了一千三百万或一千四百万的财富，能如何如何地为他的朋友造福。可是唐太斯的脸却阴沉起来，因为他脑海中复仇的誓言又出现了，他也想到，在当今这个时代，一个人拥有了一千三百万或一千四百万财富，能给他的仇人带去多大的灾难。 
神甫不知道基督山岛在什么地方，但唐太斯却知道，而且常常经过那个地方，甚至还曾上去过一次，它离皮亚诺扎只有二十五哩，在科西嘉岛和厄尔巴岛之间。这个岛以前一向是，而且现在也还是荒无人烟的地方。它像是一块圆椎形的大岩石，似乎是某次海底火山爆发把它推到海面上来的。唐太斯把那个岛画了一张地图给法利亚看，法利亚则指导唐太斯应该用什么办法去找到那宝藏。不过唐太斯却远没有老人那样热情和有信心。不错，法利亚确实不是一个疯子，他的发现让人以为他疯了，可是发现这个秘密的艰苦经过更增加了唐太斯对他的敬仰。同时，即使那笔宝藏的确存在，他也不能相信现在它是否依旧还存在着，虽然他认为那宝藏决不是想象出来的东西，可是他相信它已不在那儿了。 
即使他相信那宝藏还在那儿，但命运仿佛有意要剥夺这两个囚徒的最后的一些希望似的，象是要让他们懂得他们已命中注定要一辈子坐牢似的，一次新的灾难又降临到了他们头上。靠海的那条走廊，早已有坍陷的危险，近来又重新加固起来。他们用许多大石头填没了唐太斯已经填过了一半的洞。 
要是没有采取神甫建议过的这一预防措施，他们就会遇到更大的不幸，因为他们逃走的企图一旦被发现，他们俩肯定被隔离开的。现在，他们被关在一道新的一更坚固的牢门里面了。 
“你看，”年轻人带着一种悲哀的、听天由命的口气对法利亚说，“你说我肯为你牺牲，但上帝认为这种赞誉我是不应该接受的。我答应过永远和你在一起，现在即使我想违背我的诺言，事实也不允许了。我和你一样得不到那宝藏了，我们俩谁也出不了这个监狱。但我真正的财富并不是那个，我的朋友，并不是在基督山岛阴森的岩石底下等待着我的那些东西，而是和你会面，虽然有狱卒，我们每天仍可以共同度过五六个钟头。是你那些智慧之光启发了我的头脑，你的话已深深根植在我的记忆里，会在那儿成长，开花，结果的。你教给了我各门科学知识，你对它们有着深刻的认识，所以才能把它们变得明白易懂，使我很容易便掌握了它们，这才是我的财富，我敬爱的朋友，就凭这一切，你已经使我富足和幸福了。相信我吧，请放心吧！对我来说，这比成吨的黄金和成箱的钻石更加珍贵，即使那些黄金和钻石确实存在，不象我们在早晨看到深浮在海面上的，以为是陆地，而向它渐渐走近的时候就消失了的海市蜃楼。可能长时间地与你呆在一起，倾听你那雄辩的声音来丰富我的头脑，振作我的精神，使我的身心能在一旦获得自由的时候经受得住可怕的打击，它们丰富了我的心灵，使快要向绝望让步的我，自从认识了你以后，不再伤心绝望，这些才是我的财富，真正属于我的财富。这一切都是你赐给我的。世上所有的帝王，即使是凯撒·布琪亚，也休想从我这儿把它们夺走的。” 
于是，这两个不幸的人往后的日子，虽然说不上幸福的日子，但也一天天地过得很快。法利亚对那宝藏以前多年来一直保守着秘密，现在却不断地谈到它。果然不出他所料，他的右臂和右腿依旧麻痹不能动，他自己已放弃了享受那宝藏的任何希望。然而他仍不断地在为他的年轻伙伴考虑逃走的办法。 
他怕那张遗嘱说不定哪天会失落或失窃，所以强迫唐太斯把它熟记在心里，使他能逐字背出来。然后他把另一半毁掉了，以保证即使前一半被人弄了去也没有人能够猜透其中的真意。有时候，法利亚以整小时地整个小时指教唐太斯，指教他在得到自由以后该如何如何。如果一旦获得自由，从获得自由的那一天、一时、一刻起，他应该只有一个念头，就是想方设法到基督山岛去。并找一个不会引起怀疑的借口独自留在那儿。 
一到了那，就得努力去找到那神奇的洞窟，在指定的地点去挖，读者还记得，那指定的地点就是在第二个洞口最深的一个角落里。 
在这期间，时间的消逝虽说不上很快，但至少不致于令人难以忍受。我们已经说过，法利亚身体一侧的手脚虽不能恢复活动了，但他的头脑仍然很清醒，理解力也已全部恢复，除了我们已详述过的那种为人处世的种种教诲以外，他还逐渐地教导他的年轻伙伴，教他应该做一个耐心和高尚的犯人，怎样懂得从无所事事找些事来做。因此他俩永远是有事可做的，法利亚借此来忘却他自己的逐渐衰老；唐太斯则借此避免去回忆那以前曾一度几乎熄灭，而现在却象夜里漂荡在远处的一盏明灯那样浮动在他记忆里的往事。日子就这样平平静静地过去了，再也没有新的灾难降临，在上帝的庇护之下，时光机械地、宁静地流逝了。 
在那年轻人的心里，或许也那老人的心里，在这种表面的宁静之下，隐藏着许多被压抑了的愿望，和被窒息住了的叹息。每当法利亚独自一个人时，当爱德蒙回到他自己的牢房里时，它们就都表露出来。有一天晚上，爱德蒙突然醒来，他好象听到有人在呼唤他。他睁开眼睛，尽力在黑暗中张望。他听到有人在喊他的名字，或者确切地说，是一种费力地呼喊他名字的呻吟声。“天哪！”爱德蒙自言自语地说，“难道真的发生了？” 
他迅速移开他的床，搬起那块石头，钻入了地道，爬到那一端，那秘密洞口已经打开。我们提到过的那可怜的摇曳的灯光下，唐太斯看到神甫脸色苍白地抓住了床架。他的脸上可拍地抽搐着，唐太斯熟悉这可怕的证状，当他第一次看到的时候，曾非常惊惶。 
“唉，我的朋友，”法利亚用一种听天由命的口吻说道，“你知道是怎么回事，对吧？我不必再向你解释什么了。” 
爱德蒙痛苦地惨叫了一声，他失去了理智，冲到门口，大喊起来，“救命！救命！”法利亚用最后一点力气阻止了他。 
“别出声！”他说，“不然你就完了。现在指望你自己吧，使你的狱中生活过得好一点，使自己还可以逃走。我在这里所做的一切你得花几年功夫才能完成，假如狱卒知道我们互相有来往，一切就都完了。放心吧，我亲爱的爱德蒙，我就要离开的这间牢房，是不会长期空着的，另一个受难人不久就会来接替我的位置的，他将把你看作是一个拯救天使。也许他也同样年轻，强壮，能吃苦耐劳，就象你一样，他可以帮助你一起逃，而我却只能妨碍你。你不再会有一个半死的身体绑在你的身上，使你动弹不得。上帝终于为你做了件好事，把你被剥夺的一切加倍偿还了你，现在是我该死的时候了。” 
爱德蒙只能紧握着他的手大声说道，“噢，我的朋友！我的朋友！别这么说！”因为他的脑子被这一下打击给搞昏了，他的勇气也在听了神甫的这些话以后消失了。过了一会儿，他又振作起一点来说道，“噢，我救活过你一次，我还可以再救你一次！”于是他拆开床脚，取出了那只瓶子，瓶子里还有一点红色药水。 
“看！”他说道，“这种救命药水还有一点呢。快，快！快告诉我这一次该怎么办，有没有什么新的办法？说呀，我的朋友，我听着呢。” 
“没有希望了，”法利亚摇摇头说道，“不过也没什么。上帝在人的心里根深蒂固地种下了对生命的爱，不论生活是多么痛苦，总还是让人觉得它是可爱的，上帝既然这样创造了人，他总会尽力使他存在的。” 
“噢，是的，是的！”唐太斯说道，“我已经说过了，我会再救活你的！” 
“好呢，那就试试看吧。我已经觉得愈来愈冷了。我觉得血在向我的脑子里流。我颤抖得厉害，牙齿直在打战，我的骨头快要散架子了，这病五分钟之内就会达到最高点，一刻钟之内，我就会变成一具僵尸了。” 
“啊！”唐太斯喊道，心里感到一阵绞痛。 
“你还是照上一次那样做，不过不要等那么久。我生命的源泉现在已经枯竭了，而死神要做的事”他望着他那麻痹了的手臂和腿继续说道“只剩一半啦。这一次要给我往嘴里倒十二滴，不是十滴，假如你看我还不醒过来，就把其余的都倒到我的喉咙里。现在，你把我抱到床上去因为我已经支持不住啦。” 
爱德蒙把神甫抱起来，放到了床上。 
“现在，朋友，”法利亚说，“你是我悲惨的生活中唯一的安慰呀，你是上天赐给我的一个无价之宝，虽说迟了一点，却依旧还是把你给了我。为了这，我衷心地感谢上帝，我要永远地和你分离了，我希望你获得你该得到的一切幸福，希望你万事如意。我的孩子，我为你祝福！” 
年轻人跪了下来，把头伏在神甫的床边。 
“现在，听我在临终时说几句话。斯帐达的宝藏的确存在。 
承蒙上帝的仁慈，对于我，现在已不再有所距离或障碍了。我看到了那洞窟的深处。我的眼睛穿透了最深厚的地层，这么多财宝简直耀得我眼睛都花啦。如果你真能逃出去要记住那位可怜的神甫，全世界的人都说他疯了，但他并没有疯。赶快到基督山岛去，去享用那宝藏吧，因为你受的苦难实在够多的了。” 
一阵剧烈的颤动打断了神甫的话。唐太斯抬起头，看到法利亚的眼睛已充满了血，似乎大量的血已从脑腔里涌到了他的脸部。 
“永别了！永别了！”神甫痉挛地紧紧抓住爱德蒙的手，低声地说，“永别了！” 
“噢，不，不！”他大声叫道，“别抛下我！噢，快来救救他呀！救命呀！救命呀！” 
“嘘！嘘！”垂死的人低声说道，“假如你能救活我，我们就不会分离了！” 
“你说得对。噢，是的，是的！相信我吧，我一定会把你救活的！而且，虽然你很难受，但看来你没有上次那样严重。” 
“你错了！我所以不那么难受，是因为我已经没有力气来忍受了。在你这个年纪，对生活是充满信心的。自信和希望是年轻人的特权，但老年人对死看得比较清楚。噢！它来了！来了来了我看不见了我的理智消失了！你的手呢，唐太斯！永别了永别了！”他集中起所有的力量，作了最后的一次挣扎抬起身来，说道，“基督山！别忘了基督山！”说完他倒在了床上。这一次发作十分厉害。神甫的四肢僵直，眼皮肿胀，口吐带血的白沫，身子一动不动，在这张痛苦的床上，再看不到刚刚还躺在那里的那位智者了。 
唐太斯拿起那盏灯，把它放在床边一块凸出的石头上，颤动的火苗把它那异样而古怪的光倾泻到了那张变了形的脸上和那僵硬的身体上。他眼睛一眨不眨地等待着那施用救命药水的时机的到来。 
当他确信那时刻已经到了的时候，便拿起小刀去撬开牙齿，这一次牙齿没象上次那样咬得紧，他一滴一滴地数着，直数到十二滴，然后等着。瓶子里大概还有两倍于滴下去的数量。他等了十分钟，一刻钟，半小时，一点动静都没有。他浑身发抖，毛发直竖，额头上凝着冷汗，他用自己的心跳来计算时间。然后他想到作最后一次努力的时间到了，他把瓶子放到法利亚那紫色的嘴唇上，这一次不必再去撬牙关，因为它还是开着的，他把全部药水都倒进了他的喉咙。 
药水产生了一种象电击的效应。神甫的四肢开始剧烈地抖动。他的眼睛渐渐地瞪大，令人害怕。他发出一声象尖叫似的叹息，然后颤动的全身又渐归于死寂，眼睛依旧睁得大大的。 
半个小时，一个小时，一个半小时过去了。这时，悲痛万分的爱德蒙斜靠在他朋友的身上，把手按在他的心脏上，觉得那身体正在逐渐变冷，心脏的跳动也愈来愈弱，终于完全停止了。心脏最后的跳动一停止，脸色就变得铁青，眼睛仍然睁着，但目光无神。此时是早晨六点钟，天刚刚亮，微弱的晨曦穿入黑牢，使那将熄的灯光显得更加苍白，异样的反光映射在死者的脸上，使人看上去还有点生气。在这日夜交接的时刻，唐太斯还曾有一线希望，但一到白天到来的时候，他明白了，现在只有自己和一具尸体在一起了。于是，一种无法克服的极端的恐怖摄住了他，他不敢再去握那悬在床外的手；不敢再去看那对一眨不眨的，茫然的眼睛，他曾多次想使它合上，但没有用，它仍然张开着。他吹灭了灯，小心地把它藏了起来，然后他钻进了地道，尽可能地把他进入秘密地道的那块大石头盖好。 
真是千钧一发，因为狱卒正好过来了。这一次，他先到了唐太斯的地牢，离开唐太斯以后，就向法利亚的牢房走去，他手里端着早餐和一件衬衣。显然那个人还不知道已经发生了什么事。他径自走去。 
唐太斯的心里突然产生了一种难以形容的焦急情绪，他迫切想知道他那不幸的朋友的牢房里，发生的事。于是他又钻进地道里，当他到达那一端的时候，恰巧听到那狱卒在连声惊喊，叫人来帮忙。不一会儿，几个狱卒来了，接着又听到种均匀的脚步声，一听便知是来了士兵，他们即使不在值班的时候也是习惯地这样走路的。在他们的后面来了监狱长。 
爱德蒙听到床上发出吱吱格格的声音，知道他们在搬动那尸体，然后又听到了监狱长的声音，他叫人往犯人脸上洒水，看到这种办法无法使犯人苏醒时，就派人去请医生。然后监狱长走了，唐太斯的耳朵里传进了几句怜悯的话，还夹杂着残酷的哄笑。 
“行啦，行啦！”有一个人喊道，“这疯子去找他的宝藏去啦。祝他一路顺风！” 
“他虽有百万，却买不起一条裹尸布！”另一个说道。 
“噢！”第三个接上一句，“伊夫堡的裹尸布可并不贵！” 
“或许，”先前那个人说道，“因为他是一位神甫，他们说不定会为他多费一点。” 
“他们或许会赐他一条布袋。” 
爱德蒙一个字都不漏地听着，可是其中有些话却听不大懂。说话声不久就停止了，那些人似乎都已离开了地牢。但他仍然不敢进去说不定他们会留下一个狱卒看守尸体。所以他仍然一声不响，一动不动地呆着，甚至屏住了呼吸。一小时以后，他听到一阵轻微的声音，渐渐地愈来愈响。这是监狱长带着医生和随从回来了。房间里沉寂了片刻，显然是医生在检查那尸体。不久，问话就开始了。 
医生分析了犯人所得的病症，宣布他已经死了。接着就传来了一番漠不关心的问话和答话，唐太斯听了非常气愤，因为他觉得全世界都应该象他那样怜爱那位可怜的神甫。 
“我听了您的话觉得非常遗憾。”在医生断言那老人真的死了以后，监狱长说道，“他是一个性情温和，安份守己，傻里傻气自寻开心的犯人，简直用不着看守他。” 
狱卒接着说：“完全不用看守，我敢说，他在这儿住上五十年也不会逃走的。” 
“不过，”监狱长又说道，“我虽说您有把握，但还是再确定一下吧。这倒并非因为我怀疑您的医道，而是出于我们的责任，我们应该对犯人的死亡十分确定才行。” 
房间里又鸦雀无声地沉默了一会儿，唐太斯一直在偷听着，他推测医生正在第二次检查尸体。 
“您放心好了，”医生说道，“他确实死了。这一点我敢担保。” 
“您知道，先生，”监狱长坚持说，“这种事，我们是不能单凭检验就可以满足的。不论外表看上去怎样，还是请您按法律规定的手续办理，来了结这件事吧。” 
“那么，去把烙铁烧烧拿来，”医生说道，“不过这样做实在没有必要。” 
这个烧烙铁的命令使唐太斯打了一个寒噤。他听到了匆忙的脚步声，门的格格声，人们的来来去去的走动声。过了几分钟，一个狱卒进来说；“火盆和烙铁拿来了。” 
房间里静默了片刻，接着听到了烙肉的丝丝声，那种令人作呕的怪味甚至穿透了墙壁，传到了正惊恐地偷听着的唐太斯的鼻孔里。一闻到这种人肉被烧焦的气味，年轻人的额头便冒出了冷汗他觉得自己快要昏过去了。 
“您看，先生，他真的死了，”医生说道，“烧脚跟是最厉害的。这个可怜的疯子这一来倒把他的疯病治好了，他从监狱生活里解脱出来啦。” 
“他的名字不是叫法利亚吗？”一个陪监狱长同来的官员问道。 
“是的，先生。照他自己的说法，这是一个世家的姓氏。他很博学，只要不涉及他的宝藏，也还明辩事理，但一提到宝藏，他就固执得要命。” 
“这种病我们叫做偏执狂。”医生说道。 
“你没有听到他抱怨什么吗？”监狱长对那负责看管神甫的狱卒问道。 
“从来没有，先生。”狱卒回答道，“是从来没有的事，相反的，他有时还讲故事给我听，有趣极了。有一天，我老婆病了，他给我开了一张药方，果然把她治好了。” 
“哦，哦！”医生说道，“我还不知道这儿又增加一位与我竞争的同行呢，我希望监狱长先生，您尽可能妥善地给他办理后事。” 
“是的，是的，您放心吧。我们尽力找一只最新的布袋来装他。您满意了吧？” 
“当然罗。但要快！我可不能整天呆在这儿。”于是又响起了人们进进出出地脚步声。一会儿之后，一阵揉蹭麻布的声音传到了唐太斯的耳朵里，床在格吱格吱地作响，地上响起一个人举起一样重物的脚步声，然后床又受压咯吱地响了一声。 
“就在今天晚上吧。”监狱长说道。 
“要做弥撒吗？”随从中有人问道。 
“不可能了，”监狱长答道，“监狱里的神父昨天向我请了假，要到耶尔去旅行一周。我告诉他，在他离职期间，我会照顾犯人的。要是这可怜的神甫不是走得这么匆忙，他是可以听到安魂曲的。” 
“唔，唔！”医生说道，干他这一行的人大多是不信鬼神的，“他本来就是神父。上帝会考虑他这种情况，不会派一个教士来给他送葬，和他开这么一个鬼玩笑的。”这个残酷的玩笑引起了一阵哄堂大笑。这时，把尸体装进麻袋的工作仍在继续着。 
“就在今天晚上。”监狱长在工作完成了的时候说道。 
“几点钟？”一个狱卒问道。 
“十点或十一点吧。” 
“要我们看守尸体吗？” 
“何必呢？只要把牢门关上，就算他还活着就得了。” 
于是脚步声走远了，声音渐渐变校门链格格地响了一阵，接着是上锁的声音，然后就没有声音了，接下来是一片比任何孤独的环境里更萧肃的寂静，死的寂静，它渗透了一切，甚至渗透了那年轻人的冰冷了的灵魂。他小心翼翼地用头顶起那块大石头，谨慎地环顾室内。室内空无一人。唐太斯一跃钻出了地道。
Chapter 21 The Island of Tiboulen
 DANTèS, although stunned and almost suffocated, had sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath, and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open, he rapidly ripped up the sack, extricated his arm, and then his body; but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot, he felt it dragging him down still lower. He then bent his body, and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs, at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea, while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. 
Dantès waited only to get breath, and then dived, in order to avoid being seen. When he arose a second time, he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky, across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear; before him was the vast expanse of waters, sombre and terrible, whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. Behind him, blacker than the sea, blacker than the sky, rose phantom-like the vast stone structure, whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey, and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea; doubtless these strange grave-diggers had heard his cry. Dantès dived again, and remained a long time beneath the water. This was an easy feat to him, for he usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there, and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. When he came up again the light had disappeared. 
He must now get his bearings. Ratonneau and Pomègue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If, but Ratonneau and Pomègue are inhabited, as is also the islet of Daume, Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the safest for Dantès' venture. The islands of Tiboulen and Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d'If; Dantès, nevertheless, determined to make for them. But how could he find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he saw the light of Planier, gleaming in front of him like a star. By leaving this light on the right, he kept the Island of Tiboulen a little on the left; by turning to the left, therefore, he would find it. But, as we have said, it was at least a league from the Chateau d'If to this island. Often in prison Faria had said to him, when he saw him idle and inactive, "Dantès, you must not give way to this listlessness; you will be drowned if you seek to escape, and your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared for exertion." These words rang in Dantès' ears, even beneath the waves; he hastened to cleave his way through them to see if he had not lost his strength. He found with pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his power, and that he was still master of that element on whose bosom he had so often sported as a boy. 
Fear, that relentless pursuer, clogged Dantès' efforts. He listened for any sound that might be audible, and every time that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon, and strove to penetrate the darkness. He fancied that every wave behind him was a pursuing boat, and he redoubled his exertions, increasing rapidly his distance from the Chateau, but exhausting his strength. He swam on still, and already the terrible Chateau had disappeared in the darkness. He could not see it, but he felt its presence. An hour passed, during which Dantès, excited by the feeling of freedom, continued to cleave the waves. 
"Let us see," said he, "I have swum above an hour, but as the wind is against me, that has retarded my speed; however, if I am not mistaken, I must be close to Tiboulen. But what if I were mistaken?" 
A shudder passed over him. He sought to tread water, in order to rest himself; but the sea was too violent, and he felt that he could not make use of this means of recuperation. 
"Well," said he, "I will swim on until I am worn out, or the cramp seizes me, and then I shall sink;" and he struck out with the energy of despair. 
Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and more dense, and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards him; at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. He fancied for a moment that he had been shot, and listened for the report; but he heard nothing. Then he put out his hand, and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew that he had gained the shore. 
Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks, that resembled nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of its most fervent combustion. It was the Island of Tiboulen. Dantès rose, advanced a few steps, and, with a fervent prayer of gratitude, stretched himself on the granite. which seemed to him softer than down. Then, in spite of the wind and rain, he fell into the deep, sweet sleep of utter exhaustion. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings; from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent, lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. 
Dantès had not been deceived--he had reached the first of the two islands, which was, in fact, Tiboulen. He knew that it was barren and without shelter; but when the sea became more calm, he resolved to plunge into its waves again, and swim to Lemaire, equally arid, but larger, and consequently better adapted for concealment. 
An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter, and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay; the waves, dashing themselves against it, wetted him with their spray. He was safely sheltered, and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base, and that it would, like a vessel at anchor, break moorings, and bear him off into the centre of the storm. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. He extended his hands, and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. 
As he rose, a flash of lightning, that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven, illumined the darkness. By its light, between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle, a quarter of a league distant, Dantès saw a fishing-boat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. A second after, he saw it again, approaching with frightful rapidity. Dantès cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger, but they saw it themselves. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging, while a fifth clung to the broken rudder. 
The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly, for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving; suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way, and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. At the same moment a violent crash was heard, and cries of distress. Dantès from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel, and among the fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. Then all was dark again. 
Dantès ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces; he listened, he groped about, but he heard and saw nothing--the cries had ceased, and the tempest continued to rage. By degrees the wind abated, vast gray clouds rolled towards the west, and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon, the waves whitened, a light played over them, and gilded their foaming crests with gold. It was day. 
Dantès stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle, as if he now beheld it for the first time; and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. He turned towards the fortress, and looked at both sea and land. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. It was about five o'clock. The sea continued to get calmer. 
"In two or three hours," thought Dantès, "the turnkey will enter my chamber, find the body of my poor friend, recognize it, seek for me in vain, and give the alarm. Then the tunnel will be discovered; the men who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered, will be questioned. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land, whilst the governor pursues me by sea. I am cold, I am hungry. I have lost even the knife that saved me. O my God, I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me, and do for me what I am unable to do for myself." 
As Dantès (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer, he saw off the farther point of the Island of Pomègue a small vessel with lateen sail skimming the sea like a gull in search of prey; and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor, and was standing out to sea rapidly, her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. "Oh," cried Edmond, "to think that in half an hour I could join her, did I not fear being questioned, detected, and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast, these men, who are in reality smugglers, will prefer selling me to doing a good action. I must wait. But I cannot ---I am starving. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted; besides, perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night. My story will be accepted, for there is no one left to contradict me." 
As he spoke, Dantès looked toward the spot where the fishing-vessel had been wrecked, and started. The red cap of one of the sailors hung to a point of the rock and some timbers that had formed part of the vessel's keel, floated at the foot of the crag. It an instant Dantès' plan was formed. he swam to the cap, placed it on his head, seized one of the timbers, and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. 
"I am saved!" murmured he. And this conviction restored his strength. 
He soon saw that the vessel, with the wind dead ahead, was tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. For an instant he feared lest, instead of keeping in shore, she should stand out to sea; but he soon saw that she would pass, like most vessels bound for Italy, between the islands of Jaros and Calaseraigne. However, the vessel and the swimmer insensibly neared one another, and in one of its tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of him. He rose on the waves, making signs of distress; but no one on board saw him, and the vessel stood on another tack. Dantès would have shouted, but he knew that the wind would drown his voice. 
It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the timber, for without it he would have been unable, perhaps, to reach the vessel--certainly to return to shore, should he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. 
Dantès, though almost sure as to what course the vessel would take, had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and stood towards him. Then he advanced; but before they could meet, the vessel again changed her course. By a violent effort he rose half out of the water, waving his cap, and uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. This time he was both seen and heard, and the tartan instantly steered towards him. At the same time, he saw they were about to lower the boat. 
An instant after, the boat, rowed by two men, advanced rapidly towards him. Dantès let go of the timber, which he now thought to be useless, and swam vigorously to meet them. But he had reckoned too much upon his strength, and then he realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. His arms became stiff, his legs lost their flexibility, and he was almost breathless. 
He shouted again. The two sailors redoubled their efforts, and one of them cried in Italian, "Courage!" 
The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had the strength to surmount passed over his head. He rose again to the surface, struggled with the last desperate effort of a drowning man, uttered a third cry, and felt himself sinking, as if the fatal cannon shot were again tied to his feet. The water passed over his head, and the sky turned gray. A convulsive movement again brought him to the surface. He felt himself seized by the hair, then he saw and heard nothing. He had fainted. 
When he opened his eyes Dantès found himself on the deck of the tartan. His first care was to see what course they were taking. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d'If behind. Dantès was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he uttered was mistaken for a sigh. 
As we have said, he was lying on the deck. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth; another, whom he recognized as the one who had cried out "Courage!" held a gourd full of rum to his mouth; while the third, an old sailer, at once the pilot and captain, looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday, and which may overtake them to-morrow. 
A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation, while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. 
"Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French. 
"I am," replied Dantès, in bad Italian, "a Maltese sailor. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion, and we were wrecked on these rocks." 
"Where do you come from?" 
"From these rocks that I had the good luck to cling to while our captain and the rest of the crew were all lost. I saw your vessel, and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island, I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course. You have saved my life, and I thank you," continued Dantès. "I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair." 
"It was I," said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance; "and it was time, for you were sinking." 
"Yes," returned Dantès, holding out his hand, "I thank you again." 
"I almost hesitated, though," replied the sailor; "you looked more like a brigand than an honest man, with your beard six inches, and your hair a foot long." Dantès recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d'If. 
"Yes," said he, "I made a vow, to our Lady of the Grotto not to cut my hair or beard for ten years if I were saved in a moment of danger; but to-day the vow expires." 
"Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain. 
"Alas, anything you please. My captain is dead; I have barely escaped; but I am a good sailor. Leave me at the first port you make; I shall be sure to find employment." 
"Do you know the Mediterranean?" 
"I have sailed over it since my childhood." 
"You know the best harbors?" 
"There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes." 
"I say, captain," said the sailor who had cried "Courage!" to Dantès, "if what he says is true, what hinders his staying with us?" 
"If he says true," said the captain doubtingly. "But in his present condition he will promise anything, and take his chance of keeping it afterwards." 
"I will do more than I promise," said Dantès. 
"We shall see," returned the other, smiling. 
"Where are you going?" asked Dantès. 
"To Leghorn." 
"Then why, instead of tacking so frequently, do you not sail nearer the wind?" 
"Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion." 
"You shall pass it by twenty fathoms." 
"Take the helm, and let us see what you know." The young man took the helm, felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder promptly and seeing that, without being a first-rate sailer, she yet was tolerably obedient,-- 
"To the sheets," said he. The four seamen, who composed the crew, obeyed, while the pilot looked on. "Haul taut."--They obeyed. 
"Belay." This order was also executed; and the vessel passed, as Dantès had predicted, twenty fathoms to windward. 
"Bravo!" said the captain. 
"Bravo!" repeated the sailors. And they all looked with astonishment at this man whose eye now disclosed an intelligence and his body a vigor they had not thought him capable of showing. 
"You see," said Dantès, quitting the helm, "I shall be of some use to you, at least during the voyage. If you do not want me at Leghorn, you can leave me there, and I will pay you out of the first wages I get, for my food and the clothes you lend me." 
"Ah," said the captain, "we can agree very well, if you are reasonable." 
"Give me what you give the others, and it will be all right," returned Dantès. 
"That's not fair," said the seaman who had saved Dantès; "for you know more than we do." 
"What is that to you, Jacopo?" returned the Captain. "Every one is free to ask what he pleases." 
"That's true," replied Jacopo; "I only make a remark." 
"Well, you would do much better to find him a jacket and a pair of trousers, if you have them." 
"No," said Jacopo; "but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers." 
"That is all I want," interrupted Dantès. Jacopo dived into the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted. 
"Now, then, do you wish for anything else?" said the patron. 
"A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted, for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time." He had not tasted food for forty hours. A piece of bread was brought, and Jacopo offered him the gourd. 
"Larboard your helm," cried the captain to the steersman. Dantès glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth; then paused with hand in mid-air. 
"Hollo! what's the matter at the Chateau d'If?" said the captain. 
A small white cloud, which had attracted Dantès' attention, crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d'If. At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard. The sailors looked at one another. 
"What is this?" asked the captain. 
"A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d'If, and they are firing the alarm gun," replied Dantès. The captain glanced at him, but he had lifted the rum to his lips and was drinking it with so much composure, that suspicions, if the captain had any, died away. 
"At any rate," murmured he, "if it be, so much the better, for I have made a rare acquisition." Under pretence of being fatigued, Dantès asked to take the helm; the steersman, glad to be relieved, looked at the captain, and the latter by a sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade. Dantès could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles. 
"What is the day of the month?" asked he of Jacopo, who sat down beside him. 
"The 28th of February." 
"In what year?" 
"In what year--you ask me in what year?" 
"Yes," replied the young man, "I ask you in what year!" 
"You have forgotten then?" 
"I got such a fright last night," replied Dantès, smiling, "that I have almost lost my memory. I ask you what year is it?" 
"The year 1829," returned Jacopo. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantès' arrest. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d'If; he was thirty-three when he escaped. A sorrowful smile passed over his face; he asked himself what had become of Mercédès, who must believe him dead. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. He renewed against Danglars, Fernand, and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. This oath was no longer a vain menace; for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan, that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn.  
唐太斯尽管有点头晕目眩的，而且几乎快要窒息了，他还算头脑清醒，不时地屏住了他的呼吸。他的右手本来就拿着一把张开的小刀（他原准备随时乘机逃脱时用的），所以现在他很快地划破口袋，先把他的手臂挣扎出来，接着又挣出他的身体。虽然他竭力想抑脱掉那铁球，但整个身体却仍在不断地往下沉。于是他弯下身子，拚命用力割断了那绑住他两脚的绳索，此时他已几乎要窒息了。他使劲用脚向上一蹬，浮出了海面，那铁球便带着那几乎成了他裹尸布的布袋沉入了海底。 
唐太斯在海面只吸了一口气，便又潜到了水里，以免被人看到。当他第二次浮出水面的时候，距离第一次沉下去的地方已有五十步了。他看到天空是一片黑暗，预示着大风暴即将来临了，风在用劲地驱赶着疾驰的浮云，不时的露出一颗闪烁的星星。在他的面前，是一片无边无际，阴沉可怕的海面，浊浪汹涌，滚滚而来在他的背后，耸立着一座比大海比天空更黑暗的，象一个赤面獠牙似的怪物，它那凸出的奇岩象是伸出来的捕人的手臂。在那块最高的岩石上，一支火把照出了两个人影。他觉得这两个人是在往大海里张望，这两个古怪的掘墓人肯定已听到了他的喊叫声。唐太斯又潜了下去，在水下停留了很长一段时间。他从前就很喜欢潜泳，他过去在马赛灯塔前的海湾游泳的时候，常常能吸引许多观众，他们一致称赞他是港内最好的游泳能手。当他重新露出头来的时候，那火光已不见了。 
必须确定一下方向了。兰顿纽和波米琪是伊夫堡周围最近的小岛，但兰顿纽和波米琪是有人居住的，大魔小岛也是如此。狄波伦或黎玛最安全。这两个岛离伊夫堡有三哩路，唐太斯决定游到那儿去。但在黑夜里他怎样来辨别方向呢？这时，他看到了伯兰尼亚灯塔象一颗灿烂的明星闪烁在他前面。假如这个灯光在右面，则狄布伦岛应左面，所以他只要向左转就能找到它。但我们已经说过，从伊夫堡到这个岛至少有三哩路。在狱中的时候，法利亚每见他显出萎靡不振，无精打采的样子时，就常常对他说：“唐太斯，你可不能老是这个样子。要是你不好好地锻炼身体，你就是逃了出去体力不支也会淹死的。”在海浪劈头打来的时候，这些话又在唐太斯的耳边响了起来，他使劲划起水来，以此看看自己是否真的体力不支。他很高兴地看到长期的牢狱生活并未夺去他的力量，他以前常常在海的怀抱里象一个孩子似的嬉戏，而现在他仍是这方面的老手。 
恐惧是一个无情的追逐者，它迫使唐太斯加倍用力。他侧耳倾听，想听听有没有什么声音传来。每次浮出浪峰时，他的目光就向地平线上搜索一下，努力透过黑暗望出去。每一个较高的浪头都象是一只来追赶他的小船，于是他就使足了劲拉开了他和小船之间的距离，但这样反复做了几次以后，他的体力便消耗得很厉害。他不停地向前游去，那座可怕的城堡渐渐地消失在黑暗里了。他虽看不清它的模样，但却仍能感觉到它的存在。 
一小时过去了，在这期间，因获得了自由而兴奋不已的唐太斯，不断地破浪前进。“我来算算看，”他说，“我差不多已游了一小时了，我是逆风游的，速度不免要减慢，但不管怎样，要是我没弄错方向的话，我离狄布伦岛一定很近了。但要是我弄错了呢？”他浑身打了个寒颤。他想浮在海面上休息一下，但海面波动得太猛烈，无法靠这种方法来休息。 
“好吧，”他说，“我就游到精疲力尽为止，游到双臂麻木，浑身抽筋，然后淹死算了。”于是他孤注一掷，使出全身力气。 
突然间，他觉得天空似乎更黑更阴沉了，稠密的云块向他头顶上压了下来，同时，他感到膝盖一阵剧痛。他的想象力告诉他自己已中了一颗子弹，一刹那间，他就会听到枪声，然而并没有枪声。他伸出手，觉得有个东西挡住了他，于是他伸出脚去，碰到了地面，这时他才看清了自己错当成乌云的那个东西了。 
在他的面前，耸立着一大堆奇形怪状的岩石，活象是经过一场猛烈的大火之后凝固而成的东西。这就是狄布伦岛了。唐太斯站起身来，向前走了几步，边感谢上帝边直挺挺地在花岗石上躺了下来，此刻他觉得睡在岩石上比睡在最舒适的床上还要柔软。然后，也不管风暴肆虐，大雨倾注他就象那些疲倦到了极点的人那样沉入了甜蜜的梦乡。一小时以后，爱德蒙被雷声惊醒了。此时，大风暴正以雷霆万钧之势在奔驰，闪电一次次划过夜空，象一条浑身带火的赤炼蛇，照亮了那浑沌汹涌的浪潮卷滚着的云层。 
唐太斯没有弄错，他已到达了两个小岛中的一个，这里的确是狄布伦岛。他知道这个地方是草木不生，无处隐藏的，但如果海能稍微平静一些，他就要重新跳到海水里去，再游到黎玛岛去，那儿虽也和这儿一样荒无人烟，但地方比较大，因此也较容易藏身。 
一块悬空的岩石成了他暂时栖身之处，他刚躲到它的黑面，大风暴就又以排山倒海之势扑来。爱德蒙觉得他身下的岩石都在抖动，凶猛的波浪冲到花岗岩上，溅了他一身的水。他虽然已很安全，却在这耀眼的雷电交加之中一直感到头晕目眩。他似乎觉得整个岛都在脚下颤抖，象一艘抛了锚的船在断缆以后被带入了风暴的中心。这时他想起自己已有二十四小时没吃东西了。他伸出手去，贪婪地捧着积存在岩洞里的雨水喝着。 
当他站起身来的时候，一道闪电划破了天空，驱走了黑暗，直射到了上帝灿烂的宝座脚下。借着这道电光，唐太斯看到，在黎玛岛和克罗斯里海角之间，离他不到一哩远的海面上，有一艘渔船，象一个幽灵似的，正被风浪摆弄着，从浪峰跌入浪谷。一秒钟以后，他又看到了它，而且更近了。唐太斯用尽力气大喊，想警告他们将有触礁的危险，但他们自己已发觉了。又一闪电使他看到有四个人紧紧地抱住了折断的桅杆和帆索，而第五个人则紧抱着那破裂的舵轮。 
他看到的那些人无疑也看到了他，因为狂风把他们的喊叫声带到了他的耳朵里。在那折断的桅杆上，有一张裂成碎片的帆还在飘着。突然间，那条挂帆的绳索断了，那张帆便象一只大海鸟似的消失在夜的黑暗里了。与此同时，他听到了一声猛烈的撞击声，接着痛苦的呼救声传进了他的耳朵里。在岩石顶上的唐太斯借闪电的光看到那艘帆船撞成了碎片，在碎片之中，又看到了神色绝望的人头和伸向天空的手臂。接着一切又都被黑暗所吞没。那副悲惨的景象象闪电一样瞬间而过。 
唐太斯冒着粉身碎骨的危险奔下岩石。他侧耳倾听，尽力四下里张望，但什么也听不到，什么也看不到。没有人在挣扎呼叫，只有风暴还在肆虐。又过了一会儿风渐渐平息了，大片灰色的云层向西方卷去，蓝色的苍穹显露了出来，上面点缀着明亮的星星。不久，地平线上现出了一道红色的长带，波浪渐渐变成了白色，一道亮光掠过海上面，把吐着白沫的浪尖染成了金黄色。白天来临了。 
唐太斯默默地，一动不动地站着，面对着这壮丽的景观。 
他又向城堡那个方向望去，望望海，又望望陆地。那阴森的建筑耸立在大海的胸膛上，带着庞然大物的那种庄严显赫的神态，似乎面对着万物一样。这时大约已经五点钟了。海面愈来愈平静了。 
“在两三小时以内，”唐太斯想道，“狱卒会到我的房间里去发现我那可怜的朋友的尸体，认出他来，又找不到我，就会发出呼叫。于是他们就会发现，接着就会询问那两个把我抛入海的人，而他们一定听到了我的喊叫声。于是满载着武装士兵的小艇就会来追赶那不幸的逃犯。他们会鸣炮向每一个沿海居民警告，叫他们不要庇护一个走投无路，赤身裸体，饥寒交迫的人。马赛的警察会在海岸上搜索，而监狱长则会从海上来追赶我。我又冷又饿，甚至连那把救命的小刀都丢了。噢，我的上帝呀，我受苦真是受够啦！可怜可怜我吧，救救我吧，我已毫无办法啦！” 
唐太斯由于精疲力尽，脑子昏沉沉的，正当他焦虑地望着伊夫堡那个方向时，他突然看到在波米琪岛的尽头，象一只鸟儿掠过海面，出现了一艘小帆船，只有水手的眼睛才能辨认出它是一艘热那亚独桅帆船。它从马赛港出发向海外疾驶，它那尖尖的船头正破浪而来。“啊！”爱德蒙惊叫道，“再过半小时我就可以登上那艘船了，只要我不被盘问、搜索、被押回马赛！我该怎么办呢？我编个什么故事好呢？这些人假装在沿海做贸易，实际上都是走私贩子，他们可能会出卖我的，以此来表示他们自己是好人。我该等一下。但我已不能再等了，或许城堡里还未发现我已经失踪了。我可以冒充昨天晚上沉船上的一个水手。这个故事不会显得荒唐可笑，也不会有人来拆穿我的。” 
唐太斯一边想着，一边向那渔船撞破的地方张望了一下，这一看不由得使他吃了一惊。岩石尖上正挂着一顶水手的红帽子，岩的脚下漂浮着一块风帆船龙骨的碎片。唐太斯顿时拿定了主意。他急忙向帽子游过去，把它戴在自己头上，又抓住一块龙骨的碎片，然后尽力向那帆船航行的路线横截过去。 
“我有救了！”他喃喃地说，这个信念恢复了他的力量。 
爱德蒙很快就发觉，那艘帆船顶着风，正在伊夫堡和兰尼亚灯塔之间抢风斜驶。一时间，他怕那帆船不沿岸航行，而径自驶出海去。但他不久就从它行驶的方向上看出象大多数到意大利的船一样，它也想从杰罗斯岛和卡接沙林岛之间穿过去。总之，他和帆船正慢慢地在接近，只要它再往岸边靠近一些，帆船就会接近到离他四分之一哩以内了。他浮出水面上，做出痛苦求救的信号，但船上没有人看到他，船又转了一个弯。唐太斯本来可以大声喊叫的，但他想到他的喊叫声会被风吞没的，这时他很庆幸自己预先想到，抱住了这块龙骨，要是没有它，他也许坚持不到登上那艘船的，而且如果船上的人没有看到他，船就过去了的话，那他就再也不能游回岸上了。 
唐太斯虽然几乎可以肯定那艘独桅船的航行路线，并悬着一颗心注视着它，直到它又向他折回来。于是他朝着那船游去。但还没等到他靠近它，那艘帆船又改变了方向。他拚命一跳，半个身子露出了水面，挥动着他的帽子，发出水手所特有的一声大喊。这一次，他不但被看见，而且被听到了，那艘独桅船立刻转舵向他驶来。同时，他看到他们把小艇放了下来。不一会儿，只见两个人划着小艇，迅速地向他驶来。唐太斯觉得那条横木现在对他没用了，就放弃了它，然后用力游着向他们迎上去。但他过高地估计了自己的力量，他这时才觉得那条横木对他是如何的有用。他的手臂渐渐地僵硬了，两条腿也难以动弹，他几乎喘不过气来了。 
他又大叫了一声，那两个水手更加用力，其中一个用意大利语喊道：“挺住！” 
这两个字刚传到他的耳朵里，一个浪头猛地向他打来，把他淹没了，他又浮出水面，象一个人快要溺死时那样拚命胡乱划动着，发出第三声大喊，然后他就觉得自己在往下沉，就象那要命的铁球又绑到了他的脚上一样。水没过了他的头，透过水，他看到一方苍白的天和黑色的云块。一阵猛烈的挣扎又把他带到水面上。他觉得好象有人抓住了他的头发，但他什么也看不到了，什么也听不到了。他昏了过去。 
当唐太斯重新睁开眼的时候，发现自己已在独桅船的甲板上了。他最关切的事，便是要看看他们航行的方向。他们正在迅速地把伊夫堡抛在后面。唐太斯实在疲乏极了，以致他所发出的那声欢呼被错认为一声痛苦的呻吟。 
我们已经说过，他躺在甲板上。一个水手正在用一块绒布摩擦他的四肢；另一个，他认出就是那个喊“挺住！”的人，此时他正拿着一满瓢甜酒凑到他的嘴边；第三个人是一个老水手，他既是掌舵的又是船长，他正同情地注视着他，脸上带着人们常有的那种自己虽在昨天逃过了灾难，说不定灾难明天又会降临的那种表情。几滴朗姆酒使年轻人衰弱的心脏重新兴奋起来，而他四肢也因受到了按摩而重新恢复了活力。 
“你是什么人？”船长用很蹩脚的法语问道。 
“我是，”唐太斯用蹩脚的意大利语回答说：“一个马耳他水手。我们是从锡接丘兹装谷物来的。昨天晚上我们刚到摩琴海岬遇到了风暴，我们的船就在那个地方触焦沉没了。” 
“你刚才是从哪儿游过来的？” 
“就是从那些岩石那里游过来的，算我运气好，我当时攀住了块岩石，而我们的船长和其他的船员都死了。我想我是唯一幸存的。我看到了你们的船，我是怕留在这个孤岛上饿死，所以我就抱住一块破船上的木头游到你们船上来。你们救了我的命，我谢谢你们，”唐太斯又说道，“要不是你们中的一个水手抓住我的头发，我早已经完了。” 
“那是我呀，”一个外貌诚实直爽的水手说道，“真是千钧一发，因为你正在往下沉呢。” 
“是啊，”唐太斯答道，并伸出手去，“我再一次谢谢你。” 
“说真的，我刚才有点犹豫呢，”水手回答说，“你的胡子有六英寸长，头发也尺把长，看上去不象个好人，倒象个强盗。” 
唐太斯想起来了，他自从进了伊夫堡以后就没有剪过头发，刮过胡子。 
“是这样，”他说，“有一次遇险时，我曾向宝洞圣母许过愿，十年不剃头发不刮胡子，只求在危难之中救我的命，今天我许的愿果然应验了。” 
“我们现在把你怎么办呢？”船长说道。 
“唉！随便你们怎么都行。我们的船沉了，船长死了。我虽然一个人逃出了一条命。不过我是一个好水手，你们在第一个靠岸的港口让我下去好了。我相信一定能在一艘商船上找到一份工作的。” 
“你对地中海熟悉吗？” 
“我从小就在那里航行。” 
“那些最出名的港口你都熟悉吗？” 
“没有几个港口是我不能闭着眼睛驶进驶出的。” 
“我说，船长，”那个对唐太斯喊“挺妆的水手说道，“假如他所说的话是真的，那么为什么不把他留下来呢？” 
“那得看他说的是不是真话，”船长面带疑虑的说道。“象他现在这样可怜巴巴的样子，说得好听，谁知道。” 
“我干起来比我说得更好，”唐太斯说道。 
“那我们瞧吧。”对方微笑着回答道。 
“你们到哪儿去？”唐太斯问。 
“到里窝那。” 
“那么，你们为什么老会是这么折来折去而不靠前侧风直驶呢？” 
“因为这样我们就会直接撞到里人翁岛上去了。” 
“你们会在离岸二十寻［一寻约等于一·六二米］开外的地方通过的。” 
“那你就去掌舵吧，让我们来看看你的本事。” 
年轻人接过舵把，先轻轻用力一压，船就随之而转，他看出这虽说不是一艘一流的帆船，但尚可操纵如意，于是他喊道：“准备扯帆！” 
船上的四个水手都跑去遵命行事，船长站着一边旁观。 
“把绳索拉直！”唐太斯又喊道。 
水手们即刻服从。 
“拴索！” 
这个命令也被执行了。果然正如唐太斯所说的，船的右舷离岸二十寻的地方擦了过去。 
“好样的！”船长高兴地大喊道。 
“好样的！”水手们跟着叫喊起来，他们都惊奇地望着这个人，这个人的目光里又充满了智慧，身体又恢复了活力，他们已不再怀疑他身上所具备的素质了。“你看，”唐太斯离开舵把说，至少在这次航行中。“我对你们还是有点用处的。假如你到了里窝那以后不要我了，可以把我留在那儿。等我领到第一笔薪水就来偿还你们借给我的衣服和伙食费。” 
“哦，”船长说，“我们是没有问题的，只要你的要求合理就行了。” 
“只要你给我和你的伙计同样的等遇，那么事情就算决定了。”唐太斯答道。 
“这不公平，”那个救唐太斯的水手说，“因为你比我们懂得多。” 
“你这是怎么啦，雅格布？”船长说道。“要多要少，这是人家的自由嘛。” 
“不错，”雅格布答道，“我只多出一件衬衫和一条裤子。” 
“这些对我就足够了，”唐太斯插进来说。“谢谢你，我的朋友。” 
雅格布窜下舱去不久就拿着那两件衣服爬了上来，唐太斯带着说不出的快乐穿了起来。 
“现在，你还需要什么别的吗？”船长问道。 
“一片面包，再来一杯我尝过的那种好酒，因为我好长时间没吃东西啦。”的确是，他已有四十个小时没吃任何东西了。 
面包拿来了，雅格布把那只酒葫芦递给他。“打压舵！”船长对舵手喊道。唐太斯一面也向那个方向看，一面把酒葫芦举到了嘴边，但他的手突然在半空中停住了。 
“咦！伊夫堡那边出了什么事啦？”船长说。 
吸引唐太斯注意的，是伊夫堡城垛顶上升起了小团白雾。 
同时，又隐约听到了一声炮响。水手们都面面相觑。 
“那是什么意思？”船长问。 
“伊夫堡有一个犯人逃走了，他们在放示警炮。”唐太斯回答。船长瞥了他一眼，只见他已把甜酒凑到了唇边，神色非常镇定地正在喝酒，所以船长即使有一点怀疑也因此而打消了。 
“这酒好厉害。”唐太斯一边说着，一边用他的短袖抹着额头上的汗。 
“管它呢，”船长注视着他，心里说道，“就算是他，那也好，因为我毕竟得到了一个少有的老手。” 
唐太斯借口说疲倦了，要求由他来掌舵。舵手很高兴能有机会松一松手，就望望船长，后者示意他可以把舵交给新来的伙伴。唐太斯于是就能时时注意到马赛方向的动静了。 
“今天是几号？”他问坐在身边的雅格布。 
“二月二十八。” 
“哪一年？” 
“哪一年！你问我哪一年？” 
“是的，”年轻人回答说，“我问你今年是哪一年？” 
“你连现在是哪一年忘了吗？” 
“昨天晚上我受的惊吓太大了。”唐太斯微笑着回答，“我的记忆力几乎都丧失了。我是问你今年是哪一年。” 
“一八二九年。”雅格布回答。唐太斯自被捕那天起，已过了十四年了。他十九岁进伊夫堡，逃走的时候已是三十三岁了。 
他的脸上掠过了一个悲哀的微笑。心想，过了这么多年不知究竟怎么样了，她一定以为他已经死了吧。接着他又想到了那三个使他囚禁了这么久，使他受尽了痛苦的人，他的眼睛里射出了仇恨的光芒。他又重温了在狱中立下的向对腾格拉尔，弗尔南多和维尔福报仇雪恨的誓言，不达目的誓不罢休。这个誓言不再是一个空洞的威胁，因为地中海上最快速的帆船追不上这只小小的独桅船，船上的每一片帆都鼓满了风，直向里窝那飞去。 
Chapter 22 The Smugglers
 DANTèS HAD NOT been a day on board before he had a very clear idea of the men with whom his lot had been cast. Without having been in the school of the Abbé Faria, the worthy master of The Young Amelia (the name of the Genoese tartan) knew a smattering of all the tongues spoken on the shores of that large lake called the Mediterranean, from the Arabic to the Proven?al, and this, while it spared him interpreters, persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet, gave him great facilities of communication, either with the vessels he met at sea, with the small boats sailing along the coast, or with the people without name, country, or occupation, who are always seen on the quays of seaports, and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence, as they have no visible means of support. It is fair to assume that Dantès was on board a smuggler. 
At first the captain had received Dantès on board with a certain degree of distrust. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast; and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits, he had at first thought that Dantès might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties, who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade. But the skilful manner in which Dantès had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him; and then, when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d'If, and heard the distant report, he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going, like that of kings, was accompanied with salutes of artillery. This made him less uneasy, it must be owned, than if the new-comer had proved to be a customs officer; but this supposition also disappeared like the first, when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. 
Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was, without the owner knowing who he was; and however the old sailor and his crew tried to "pump" him, they extracted nothing more from him; he gave accurate descriptions of Naples and Malta, which he knew as well as Marseilles, and held stoutly to his first story. Thus the Genoese, subtle as he was, was duped by Edmond, in whose favor his mild demeanor, his nautical skill, and his admirable dissimulation, pleaded. Moreover, it is possible that the Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but what they should know, and believe nothing but what they should believe. 
In this state of mutual understanding, they reached Leghorn. Here Edmond was to undergo another trial; he was to find out whether he could recognize himself, as he had not seen his own face for fourteen years. He had preserved a tolerably good remembrance of what the youth had been, and was now to find out what the man had become. His comrades believed that his vow was fulfilled. As he had twenty times touched at Leghorn, he remembered a barber in St. Ferdinand Street; he went there to have his beard and hair cut. The barber gazed in amazement at this man with the long, thick and black hair and beard, which gave his head the appearance of one of Titian's portraits. At this period it was not the fashion to wear so large a beard and hair so long; now a barber would only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. The Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. 
When the operation was concluded, and Edmond felt that his chin was completely smooth, and his hair reduced to its usual length, he asked for a hand-glass. He was now, as we have said, three-and-thirty years of age, and his fourteen years' imprisonment had produced a great transformation in his appearance. Dantès had entered the Chateau d'If with the round, open, smiling face of a young and happy man, with whom the early paths of life have been smooth. and who anticipates a future corresponding with his past. This was now all changed. The oval face was lengthened, his smiling mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken resolution; his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed with thought; his eyes were full of melancholy, and from their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of misanthropy and hatred; his complexion, so long kept from the sun, had now that pale color which produces, when the features are encircled with black hair, the aristocratic beauty of the man of the north; the profound learning he had acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined intellectual expression; and he had also acquired, being naturally of a goodly stature, that vigor which a frame possesses which has so long concentrated all its force within itself. 
To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. As to his voice, prayers, sobs, and imprecations had changed it so that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness, and at others rough and almost hoarse. Moreover, from being so long in twilight or darkness, his eyes had acquired the faculty of distinguishing objects in the night, common to the hyena and the wolf. Edmond smiled when he beheld himself: it was impossible that his best friend--if, indeed, he had any friend left--could recognize him; he could not recognize himself. 
The master of The Young Amelia, who was very desirous of retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond's value, had offered to advance him funds out of his future profits, which Edmond had accepted. His next care on leaving the barber's who had achieved his first metamorphosis was to enter a shop and buy a complete sailor's suit--a garb, as we all know, very simple, and consisting of white trousers, a striped shirt, and a cap. It was in this costume, and bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent him, that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the lugger, who had made him tell his story over and over again before he could believe him, or recognize in the neat and trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard, hair tangled with seaweed, and body soaking in seabrine, whom he had picked up naked and nearly drowned. Attracted by his prepossessing appearance, he renewed his offers of an engagement to Dantès; but Dantès, who had his own projects, would not agree for a longer time than three months. 
The Young Amelia had a very active crew, very obedient to their captain, who lost as little time as possible. He had scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his vessel was filled with printed muslins, contraband cottons, English powder, and tobacco on which the excise had forgotten to put its mark. The master was to get all this out of Leghorn free of duties, and land it on the shores of Corsica, where certain speculators undertook to forward the cargo to France. They sailed; Edmond was again cleaving the azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth, and which he had so often dreamed of in prison. He left Gorgone on his right and La Pianosa on his left, and went towards the country of Paoli and Napoleon. The next morning going on deck, as he always did at an early hour, the patron found Dantès leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense earnestness at a pile of granite rocks, which the rising sun tinged with rosy light. It was the Island of Monte Cristo. The Young Amelia left it three-quarters of a league to the larboard, and kept on for Corsica. 
Dantès thought, as they passed so closely to the island whose name was so interesting to him, that he had only to leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised land. But then what could he do without instruments to discover his treasure, without arms to defend himself? Besides, what would the sailors say? What would the patron think? He must wait. 
Fortunately, Dantès had learned how to wait; he had waited fourteen years for his liberty, and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides, were not those riches chimerical?--offspring of the brain of the poor Abbé Faria, had they not died with him? It is true, the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial, and Dantès repeated it to himself, from one end to the other, for he had not forgotten a word. 
Evening came, and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight, and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own, for he, with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison, continued to behold it last of all, for he remained alone upon deck. The next morn broke off the coast of Aleria; all day they coasted, and in the evening saw fires lighted on land; the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing, for a ship's lantern was hung up at the mast-head instead of the streamer, and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. Dantès noticed that the captain of The Young Amelia had, as he neared the land, mounted two small culverins, which, without making much noise, can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. 
But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous, and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger, which, no doubt, in acknowledgement of the compliment, lowered her own shallop into the sea, and the five boats worked so well that by two o'clock in the morning all the cargo was out of The Young Amelia and on terra firma. The same night, such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia, the profits were divided, and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres, or about eighty francs. But the voyage was not ended. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia, where they intended to take in a cargo, which was to replace what had been discharged. The second operation was as successful as the first, The Young Amelia was in luck. This new cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca, and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars, sherry, and Malaga wines. 
There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties; the excise was, in truth, the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. A customs officer was laid low, and two sailors wounded; Dantès was one of the latter, a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. Dantès was almost glad of this affray, and almost pleased at being wounded, for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger, and with what endurance he could bear suffering. He had contemplated danger with a smile, and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher, "Pain, thou art not an evil." He had, moreover. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death, and, whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter, or the chill of human sentiment, this sight had made but slight impression upon him. Dantès was on the way he desired to follow, and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve; his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. Jacopo, seeing him fall, had believed him killed, and rushing towards him raised him up, and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. 
This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it, neither was it so wicked as Dantès thought it, since this man, who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prize-money, manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall. Fortunately, as we have said, Edmond was only wounded, and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons, and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women, the wound soon closed. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo, and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prize-money, but Jacopo refused it indignantly. 
As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond, the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection. But this sufficed for Jacopo, who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position--a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. And from this time the kindness which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. 
Then in the long days on board ship, when the vessel, gliding on with security over the azure sea, required no care but the hand of the helmsman, thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails, Edmond, with a chart in his hand, became the instructor of Jacopo, as the poor Abbé Faria had been his tutor. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast, explained to him the variations of the compass, and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven, and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. And when Jacopo inquired of him, "What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied, "Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. Your fellow-countryman, Bonaparte, became emperor." We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. 
Two months and a half elapsed in these trips, and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman; he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast, and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other. He had passed and re-passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times, but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there. He then formed a resolution. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended, he would hire a small vessel on his own account--for in his several voyages he had amassed a hundred piastres--and under some pretext land at the Island of Monte Cristo. Then he would be free to make his researches, not perhaps entirely at liberty, for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. But in this world we must risk something. Prison had made Edmond prudent, and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. But in vain did he rack his imagination; fertile as it was, he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without companionship. 
Dantès was tossed about on these doubts and wishes, when the patron, who had great confidence in him, and was very desirous of retaining him in his service, took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' Oglio, where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. Already Dantès had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times, and seeing all these hardy free-traders, who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent, he had asked himself what power might not that man attain who should give the impulse of his will to all these contrary and diverging minds. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion, connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets, stuffs of the Levant, and cashmeres. It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made, and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous, there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew. 
The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo, which being completely deserted, and having neither soldiers nor revenue officers, seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury, the god of merchants and robbers, classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct, but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantès started with joy; he rose to conceal his emotion, and took a turn around the smoky tavern, where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter, it had been decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night. Edmond, being consulted, was of opinion that the island afforded every possible security, and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. Nothing then was altered in the plan, and orders were given to get under weigh next night, and, wind and weather permitting, to make the neutral island by the following day.  
唐太斯上船不到一天，就和船上人搞得很熟了。少女阿梅丽号（这艘热那亚独桅船的船名）上这位可敬的船长，虽然没受过法利亚神甫的教导，却几乎懂得地中海沿岸的各种语言，从阿拉伯语到普罗旺斯语，都能一知半解地说上几句，所以他不必雇用翻译，多一个人总是多一个累赘，而且常常多一个泄漏秘密的机会。这种语言上的能力，使他和人交换信息非常方便，不论是和他在海上所遇到的帆船，和那些沿着海岸航行的小舟，或和那些来历不明的人，这种人，没有姓名，没有国籍，没有明白的称呼，在海口的码头上可以看到他们，他们靠着那种秘密的经济来源生活，而由于看不出他们经济的来源，我们只能称他们是靠天过活的。读者可能已猜出来了，唐太斯是在一条走私船上。 
鉴于上述这种情况，船长把唐太斯收留在船上，是不无怀疑的。他同沿海岸的海关官员都非常熟悉。而这些可敬的先生们和他之间时时都在勾心斗角，所以最初他以为唐太斯或许是税务局派来的一个密探，用这条巧计来刺探他这一行动的秘密。但唐太斯操纵这只小船的熟练程度又使他完全放了心。后来，当他看到伊夫堡的上空升起了一缕象羽毛似的轻烟，他立刻想到，他的船上已接纳了一位象国王那样他们要鸣炮致敬的人物。应该说，这时他多少放心了一些，因为这样的一位新来者总比来个海关官员要强，可是当他看到这位新来的伙计态度十分泰然，后面这一层怀疑也就象前者一样地消失了。 
所以爱德蒙占了个便宜，他可以知道船长是什么样的人，而船长却不知道他是谁。不论那个老水手和他的船员用什么方法来套他的话，他都能顶得住，不泄露半点真情，只坚持说他最初的那番话，他把那不勒斯和马耳他描绘得绘声绘色，他对这些地方了解得象马赛一样清楚。所以那个热那亚人虽然精明，却被唐太斯用温和的态度和熟练的航海技术蒙骗了过去。当然，也许这位热那亚人也同那些明智的人一样，他们除了自己应该知道的事以外别的都不想去知道，除了愿望相信的事情以外，别的都不相信。 
而就在这种对互相都有利的状况之下，他们到达了里窝那。在这儿，爱德蒙又要接受一次考验：这就是十四年来他不曾看见过自己是什么模样，他现在还认识自己吗。对于自己年轻时的容貌，他还保存着一个完好的记忆，现在要面对的是成年时的自己究竟变成个什么样子。他的新朋友们相信他所许的愿该兑现了。他以前曾在里窝那停靠过不下二十次。他记得在圣·费狄南街有一家理发店，他就到那儿去刮胡子理头发了。理发师惊异地望着这个长发黑须的人，他看上去就象提香［提香（１４８７—１５７６）意大利画家］名画上的人物。当时并不流行这样的大胡子和这样的长头发，而倘若在今天，假如一个人天赋有这样的美质而竟自动愿意舍弃，一定会使理发师大为惊奇的。那位里窝那理发师不加思索，立刻就干了起来。 
修理完以后，爱德蒙感到自己的下巴已十分光滑，而头发也与常人一般长短了，他要了一面镜子，从镜子里端祥着自己。我已说过，他现在已经三十三岁了，十四年的牢狱生活已在他的脸上发生了气质上的变化。唐太斯进伊夫堡时，有着幸福年轻人的圆圆的，坦诚的，微笑的脸，他一生中早年所走的路是平坦的，而他以为，未来自然只是过去的继续。但现在这一切都变了。他那椭圆形的脸已拉长了，那张含笑的嘴出在已刻上了显示意志坚强而沉着的线条；那饱满的额头上出现了一条深思的皱纹；他的眼睛里充满了抑郁的神色，从中不时地闪现出愤泄嫉俗的仇和恨的光芒；他的脸色，因长期不和阳光接触，而变成了苍白色，配上他那黑色的头发，现出一种北欧人的那种贵族美；他学到的深奥的知识又使他脸上焕发出一种泰然自若的智慧之光：他的身材本来就很颀长，长年来体内又积蓄力量，所以显得更加身强体壮了。 
丰满结实而肌肉发达的身材已一变而为消瘦劲健，文质彬彬的仪表。他的嗓音，因祈祷，啜泣和诅咒而发生了很大的变化，时而温柔恳切，听来非常动人，时而粗声气近乎嘶哑。 
而且，由于长久生活在昏暗的地方，他的眼睛早已变得象鬣狗和狼的眼睛一样，具有能在黑夜里辨别东西的能力。爱德蒙望着镜子里的自己笑了，即使他最好的朋友——假如他的确还有什么朋友留在世上的话——也不可能认出他来了，他自己都认不出自己来了。少女阿梅丽号的船长极希望留下象爱德蒙这样有用的人，他预支了一些将来应得的红利给爱德蒙。理发师刚使爱德蒙初步改变了模样，他就离开理发店来到了一家商店里，买了全套的水手服装，我们都知道，那是非常简单的，不过是条全白色的裤子，一件海魂衫和一顶帽子。爱德蒙穿着这套服装到了船上，把雅格布借给他的衬衫和裤子还给了他，重新站在“少女阿梅丽号”船长的面前。船长叫他把他的身世重新讲了一遍，他已认不出眼前这个整洁文雅的水手就是那个留有大胡子，头发里缠满了海藻，全身浸在海水里，快要淹死的时候赤裸裸地被他手下的人救起来的那个人。 
看到爱德蒙这样焕然一新的样子，他又重新提议，想长期雇用唐太斯。但唐太斯有自己的打算，只接受了三个月的聘期。 
少女阿梅丽号现在有一个非常得力的，非常服从他们船长的伙计。船长一向总是惜时如金，他在里窝那停靠了不到一星期，他的船上已装满了印花纱布，禁止出口的棉花，英国火药和专卖局忘记盖上印的烟草。船长要把这些货都免税弄出里窝那，运到科西嘉沿岸在那儿，再由一些投机商人把货物转运到法国去。他们的船启航了，爱德蒙又在浅蓝色的大海上破浪前进了，大海是他的青年时代活动的天地，他在狱中曾常常梦到它。现在戈尔纳在他的右边，皮亚诺扎在他的左边，他正在向巴奥里和拿破仑的故乡前进。第二天早晨，当船长来到甲板上的时候（他老是一早就到甲板上去的），他发现唐太斯正斜靠在船舷上，以一种奇特的目光注视着一座被朝阳染成玫瑰色的花岗石的岩山：那就是基督山小岛。少女阿梅丽号在其左舷离它还不到一里路的地方驶过去了，直奔科西嘉而去。 
这个小岛的名字和唐太斯是这样的休戚相关，当他们这样近地经过它的时候，他不禁在心里想：他只要一下跳进海里用不了半小时，他就可以登上那块上帝赐与他的土地了。不过，那样的话他没有工具来发掘宝藏，也没有武器来保护它，他该怎么办呢？而且，水手们会怎么说，船长会怎么想呢？他必须等待。幸好，他已学会了如何等待。为了自由他曾等待了十四年，现在为了财富，他当然可以再等上一年半载的。最初要是只给他自由而不给他财富，他不是也同样会接受吗？再说，那些财富该不会只是个幻想吧？是可怜的法利亚神甫脑子有病时想出来的东西，是否已同他一起离开了尘世呢？不过，红衣主教斯帕达的那封信是唯一有关的证据，于是唐太斯把那张纸上的内容又从头到尾的默述了一遍，他一个字也没有忘。 
黄昏来临了，爱德蒙眼看着那个小岛被宠罩在薄暮之中并渐渐地远去了，终于在船上其它人的眼前消失了，但却没有在他的眼前消失。因为他的眼睛在牢狱中早已炼就了透过黑暗看东西的能力，他仍继续看着它，并最后一个离开了甲板。 
第二天破晓的时候，他们已到了阿立里亚海外。他们整天沿着海岸航行，到了傍晚时分，岸上燃起了灯火。这火光大概是约定的暗号，一看到这火光，他们就知道可以靠岸了，因为有一盏信号灯不是挂在旗杆上而是挂在桅顶上，于是他们就向岸边靠近，驶到了大炮的射程以内。唐太斯注意到，当他们向岸边靠近的时候，船长架起了两尊旧式的小炮，这两尊炮能把四磅重的炮弹射出千步之外而不会发出很大的声响。 
但这一次，这种预防是多余的，一切都进行得很顺利。四只小艇轻轻地驶近帆船，帆船无疑懂得这种迎候的意思，也放了自己的小艇下海。五只小艇工作得极其神速，到了早晨两点钟，全部货物使都从少女阿梅丽号上御到了环球号上。少女阿梅凡号的船长是办事有条不紊的人，当天晚上他就分配了红利，每人得到了一百个托斯卡纳里弗，也就是说合我们的钱八十法郎。但这次航行并未结束，他们又调转船头驶向了撒丁岛，预备在那儿把已御空的船再装满。第二次行动也象第一次一样的成功，少女阿梅丽号真是太走运了。这批新货的目的地是卢加沿岸，货物几乎全都是哈瓦那雪茄，白葡萄酒和马拉加葡萄酒。 
从那儿回来的时候，他们和少女阿梅丽号船长的死对头税警发生了冲突。一名海关官员被打死，两名水手受了伤，唐太斯是其中的一个，一颗子弹擦破了他的左肩。唐太斯简直很高兴受这次惊吓，对自己受伤也感到挺高兴。这是无情的教训，教会他怎样用眼睛去观察危险，以怎样的忍耐去忍受痛苦。他微笑着面对危险，就在受伤的时候，还象希腊哲人那样说道：“痛苦呀，你并不是件坏事！”他还亲眼目睹了那个受伤致死的海关官员，不知是因为战斗使他的血沸腾了呢，还是因为他那人类的情感已经麻木了，总之，他对于这个景象几乎是无动于衷的。唐太斯正踏上他所要走的路，正朝着他的既定目标前进，他的心正在经受着锤炼。雅格布看见他倒下时，以为他被打死了，就向他冲过来，将他扶起来，极力地照料他，尽了一个好伙伴的责任。 
看来，这个世界虽不象班格罗斯医生［伏尔泰小说《老实人》中的人物］所相信的那样好，但也不象唐太斯所认为的那样坏，例如眼前这个人，除了能从他伙伴的身上得到那份红利以外再也无利可图了，但当他看见他倒下去的时候，却显示出那样的痛苦。幸好，我们已经说过，爱德蒙只是受了点伤，在敷上了撒丁岛老好人卖给走私贩子的一种草药（这些草药是在某些季节采集来的）以后，伤口不久就愈合了。爱德蒙想考验一下贾可布，就从他那份红利中拿出一部分来，以报答他对他的照料之情，但雅格布满脸怒气地拒绝了。 
这是一种同伴间的赤诚之情，雅格布第一次看到爱德蒙的时候就对他产生了这种情感，而爱德蒙也对雅格布产生了某种友善的情感，雅格布觉得有个知己足够了。他已经本能地觉察到了爱德蒙的卓越，那是一种别人都没有觉察到的卓越；而只要爱德蒙稍微对他表示些友善，那诚实的水手也就心满意足了。 
于是，当那帆船在蔚蓝色的海面上平稳地航行，当他们感谢顺风鼓满了它的帆，除了舵手以外其他一无所需的时候，爱德蒙就利用船上这段漫长的日子，手拿一张地图，充当起雅格布的教师来，就象可怜的法利亚神甫做他的老师一样。他向他指出海岸线的位置，向他解释罗盘的各种变化，教他读那本打开在我们头顶上，人们称之为天空的这本大书。这本书是上帝用钻石作文字，在苍穹中写成的。当雅格布问他，“你把这一切教给象我这样一个可怜的水手有什么用呢？”爱德蒙回答说，“谁知道呢？你也许有一天会成为船长的。你的同乡波拿巴还做了皇帝呢。”我们忘了提一句，雅格布也是科西嘉人。 
两个半月的时间就在这种航行中过去了，爱德蒙本来就是一个刻苦耐劳的水手，现在又成了一个熟练的沿海航行者；他结识了沿岸所有的走私贩子，并学会了与这些海盗及走私贩子相互之间的秘密联络暗号。他一次又一次的经过他的基督山小岛，一共经过了二十多次，但始终没能找到一个机会上去。于是他下了一个决心：只要他和少女阿梅丽号船长签订的合同期一满，他就自己花钱租一只小帆船，毕竟他在几次航行中，已积蓄了一百个毕阿士特［埃及、西班牙等国的货币名。］，然后找个借口到基督山小岛上去。那时他就可以完全自由地进行搜寻了，或许不能说完全自由，因为那些陪他来的人无疑会注意他的，但在这个世界上，我们得有点冒险精神才行，监狱生活已使唐太斯变得谨慎小心，他很希望不冒险。他虽然想象力丰富，但在一番苦思冥想以后，仍然是一场空，他想不出任何计划可以不用人陪伴而到他所渴望的小岛上去。有天晚上，当唐太斯正在心神不宁地考虑这些疑虑和希望的时候，那位非常信任他非常希望能留下他的船长走了过来，挽起他的一只胳膊，领他到了一艘泊在奥格里荷的独桅船上。那是里窝那的走私贩子们常去聚会的地方，他们就在这儿谈有关沿海一带的生意。唐太斯到这个地方已来过两三次，并见过了所有这些大胆勇敢散布在将近两千里沿岸范围内的免税贸易者，他曾心想，假如一个能克制一下暂时的意志上的冲动，而去把这些五花八门的关系网结合起来，则还愁何事不成。这次他们谈的是一笔大生意，即要在一艘船上装载土耳其地毯，勒旺绒布和克什米尔毛织品。大家必须先商量出一个中立的地点来做这次交易，然后设法把这些货运到法国沿岸。假如成功了，获利是极大的；每个船员可以分到五六十个毕阿士特。 
少女阿梅丽号的船长建议把基督山岛作为装货的地点，那是一个荒无人烟，既无士兵，又无税吏，似乎从商人和盗贼的祖师邪神麦考莱［罗马神话中商人盗贼的保护神。］那个时代起，就孤立在海的中央了。商人和盗贼这两个阶层，在我们今天这个时代，虽然二者的界限有些模糊，还是略有区别的，但在古代，二者几乎是同一门类的。 
提到基督山岛，唐太斯就兴奋得心跳加速，为了掩饰自己的情绪，他站起身来，在那烟雾腾腾，集世界上各种各样的语言为一种混合语的独桅船上兜了一个圈。当他再回到那两个对话者那儿的时候，事情已经决定了，他们决定在基督山岛相会，第二天晚上就出发。他们征求爱德蒙的意见时，他也认为那个岛从各方面来看都极安全，而且那件大事，要想做得好，就必须做得快。所以商定的计划决不再做变更，大家同意：第二天夜里就出发，假如风向和天气允许的话，就设法在第三天傍晚到达那个中立小岛的海面上。 
Chapter 23 The Island of Monte Cristo
 THUS, AT LENGTH, by one of the unexpected strokes of fortune which sometimes befall those who have for a long time been the victims of an evil destiny, Dantès was about to secure the opportunity he wished for, by simple and natural means, and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. One night more and he would be on his way. 
The night was one of feverish distraction, and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantès' mind. If he closed his eyes, he saw Cardinal Spada's letter written on the wall in characters of flame--if he slept for a moment the wildest dreams haunted his brain. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds, with panels of rubies, and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. Pearls fell drop by drop, as subterranean waters filter in their caves. Edmond, amazed, wonderstruck, filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight, when be discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos, but they had suddenly receded, and now the path became a labyrinth, and then the entrance vanished, and in vain did he tax his memory for the magic and mysterious word which opened the splendid caverns of Ali Baba to the Arabian fisherman. All was useless, the treasure disappeared, and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. The day came at length, and was almost as feverish as the night had been, but it brought reason to the aid of imagination, and Dantès was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. Night came, and with it the preparation for departure, and these preparations served to conceal Dantès' agitation. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board; and as his orders were always clear, distinct, and easy of execution, his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. 
The old patron did not interfere, for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantès over the crew and himself. He saw in the young man his natural successor, and regretted that he had not a daughter, that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. At seven o'clock in the evening all was ready, and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. The sea was calm, and, with a fresh breeze from the south-east, they sailed beneath a bright blue sky, in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights, each of which is a world. Dantès told them that all hands might turn in, and he would take the helm. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantès) had said this, it was sufficient, and all went to their bunks contentedly. This frequently happened. Dantès, cast from solitude into the world, frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude; and what solitude is more complete, or more poetical, then that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night, in the silence of immensity, and under the eye of heaven? 
Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts, the night lighted up by his illusions, and the silence animated by his anticipations. When the patron awoke, the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set, and every sail full with the breeze. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master's care, and went and lay down in his hammock; but, in spite of a sleepless night, he could not close his eyes for a moment. Two hours afterwards he came on deck, as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba. They were just abreast of Mareciana, and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun, was seen against the azure sky. Dantès ordered the helmsman to put down his helm, in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard, as he knew that he should shorten his course by two or three knots. About five o'clock in the evening the island was distinct, and everything on it was plainly perceptible, owing to that clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the rays of the sun cast at its setting. 
Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave out all the variety of twilight colors, from the brightest pink to the deepest blue; and from time to time his cheeks flushed, his brow darkened, and a mist passed over his eyes. Never did gamester, whose whole fortune is staked on one cast of the die, experience the anguish which Edmond felt in his paroxysms of hope. Night came, and at ten o'clock they anchored. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. In spite of his usual command over himself, Dantès could not restrain his impetuosity. He was the first to jump on shore; and had he dared, he would, like Lucius Brutus, have "kissed his mother earth." It was dark, but at eleven o'clock the moon rose in the midst of the ocean, whose every wave she silvered, and then, "ascending high," played in floods of pale light on the rocky hills of this second Pelion. 
The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia,--it was one of her regular haunts. As to Dantès, he had passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant, but never touched at it. He questioned Jacopo. "Where shall we pass the night?" he inquired. 
"Why, on board the tartan," replied the sailor. 
"Should we not do better in the grottos?" 
"What grottos?" 
"Why, the grottos--caves of the island." 
"I do not know of any grottos," replied Jacopo. The cold sweat sprang forth on Dantès' brow. 
"What, are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?" he asked. 
"None." 
For a moment Dantès was speechless; then he remembered that these caves might have been filled up by some accident, or even stopped up, for the sake of greater security, by Cardinal Spada. The point was, then, to discover the hidden entrance. It was useless to search at night, and Dantès therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. Besides, a signal made half a league out at sea, and to which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal, indicated that the moment for business had come. The boat that now arrived, assured by the answering signal that all was well, soon came in sight, white and silent as a phantom, and cast anchor within a cable's length of shore. 
Then the landing began. Dantès reflected, as he worked, on the shout of joy which, with a single word, he could evoke from all these men, if he gave utterance to the one unchanging thought that pervaded his heart; but, far from disclosing this precious secret, he almost feared that he had already said too much, and by his restlessness and continual questions, his minute observations and evident pre-occupation, aroused suspicions. Fortunately, as regarded this circumstance at least, his painful past gave to his countenance an indelible sadness, and the glimmerings of gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. 
No one had the slightest suspicion; and when next day, taking a fowling-piece, powder, and shot, Dantès declared his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that were seen springing from rock to rock, his wish was construed into a love of sport, or a desire for solitude. However, Jacopo insisted on following him, and Dantès did not oppose this, fearing if he did so that he might incur distrust. Scarcely, however, had they gone a quarter of a league when, having killed a kid, he begged Jacopo to take it to his comrades, and request them to cook it, and when ready to let him know by firing a gun. This and some dried fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano, was the bill of fare. Dantès went on, looking from time to time behind and around about him. Having reached the summit of a rock, he saw, a thousand feet beneath him, his companions, whom Jacopo had rejoined, and who were all busy preparing the repast which Edmond's skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital dish. 
Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle smile of a man superior to his fellows. "In two hours' time," said he, "these persons will depart richer by fifty piastres each, to go and risk their lives again by endeavoring to gain fifty more; then they will return with a fortune of six hundred francs, and waste this treasure in some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of nabobs. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches, which seem to me contemptible. Yet perchance to-morrow deception will so act on me, that I shall, on compulsion, consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost happiness. Oh, no!" exclaimed Edmond, "that will not be. The wise, unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one thing. Besides, it were better to die than to continue to lead this low and wretched life." Thus Dantès, who but three months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty enough, and panted for wealth. The cause was not in Dantès, but in providence, who, while limiting the power of man, has filled him with boundless desires. 
Meanwhile, by a cleft between two walls of rock, following a path worn by a torrent, and which, in all human probability, human foot had never before trod, Dantès approached the spot where he supposed the grottos must have existed. Keeping along the shore, and examining the smallest object with serious attention, he thought he could trace, on certain rocks, marks made by the hand of man. 
Time, which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle, as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness, seemed to have respected these signs, which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity, and probably with a definite purpose. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle, which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms, or beneath parasitical lichen. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the guide-marks were. The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. Might it not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them, in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe, which he could not foresee would have been so complete. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. Only, might not these betraying marks have attracted other eyes than those for whom they were made? and had the dark and wondrous island indeed faithfully guarded its precious secret? 
It seemed, however, to Edmond, who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground, that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased; nor did they terminate at any grotto. A large round rock, placed solidly on its base, was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning, and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. 
Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast, had got some water from a spring, spread out the fruit and bread, and cooked the kid. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit, they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock, and they fired the signal agreed upon. The sportsman instantly changed his direction, and ran quickly towards them. But even while they watched his daring progress, Edmond's foot slipped, and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. They all rushed towards him, for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority; yet Jacopo reached him first. 
He found Edmond lying prone, bleeding, and almost senseless. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. They poured a little rum down his throat, and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him, produced the same effect as formerly. Edmond opened his eyes, complained of great pain in his knee, a feeling of heaviness in his head, and severe pains in his loins. They wished to carry him to the shore; but when they touched him, although under Jacopo's directions, he declared, with heavy groans, that he could not bear to be moved. 
It may be supposed that Dantès did not now think of his dinner, but he insisted that his comrades, who had not his reasons for fasting, should have their meal. As for himself, he declared that he had only need of a little rest, and that when they returned he should be easier. The sailors did not require much urging. They were hungry, and the smell of the roasted kid was very savory, and your tars are not very ceremonious. An hour afterwards they returned. All that Edmond had been able to do was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a moss-grown rock. 
But, instead of growing easier, Dantès' pains appeared to increase in violence. The old patron, who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France, between Nice and Frejus, urged Dantès to try and rise. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply; but at each effort he fell back, moaning and turning pale. 
"He has broken his ribs," said the commander, in a low voice. "No matter; he is an excellent fellow, and we must not leave him. We will try and carry him on board the tartan." Dantès declared, however, that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest movement cost him. "Well," said the patron, "let what may happen, it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. We will not go till evening." This very much astonished the sailors, although, not one opposed it. The patron was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise, or even delay in its execution. Dantès would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor. "No, no," he said to the patron, "I was awkward, and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness. Leave me a small supply of biscuit, a gun, powder, and balls, to kill the kids or defend myself at need, and a pickaxe, that I may build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me." 
"But you'll die of hunger," said the patron. 
"I would rather do so," was Edmond reply, "than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes me." The patron turned towards his vessel, which was rolling on the swell in the little harbor, and, with sails partly set, would be ready for sea when her toilet should be completed. 
"What are we to do, Maltese?" asked the captain. "We cannot leave you here so, and yet we cannot stay." 
"Go, go!" exclaimed Dantès. 
"We shall be absent at least a week," said the patron, "and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again." 
"Why," said Dantès, "if in two or three days you hail any fishing-boat, desire them to come here to me. I will pay twenty-five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. If you do not come across one, return for me." The patron shook his head. 
"Listen, Captain Baldi; there's one way of settling this," said Jacopo. "Do you go, and I will stay and take care of the wounded man." 
"And give up your share of the venture," said Edmond, "to remain with me?" 
"Yes," said Jacopo, "and without any hesitation." 
"You are a good fellow and a kind-hearted messmate," replied Edmond, "and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions; but I do not wish any one to stay with me. A day or two of rest will set me up, and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises." 
A peculiar smile passed over Dantès' lips; he squeezed Jacopo's hand warmly, but nothing could shake his determination to remain--and remain alone. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail, but not without turning about several times, and each time making signs of a cordial farewell, to which Edmond replied with his hand only, as if he could not move the rest of his body. Then, when they had disappeared, he said with a smile: 
"'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion." 
Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock, from which he had a full view of the sea, and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing, weigh anchor, and, balancing herself as gracefully as a water-fowl ere it takes to the wing, set sail. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight; at least, it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. 
Then Dantès rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks, took his gun in one hand, his pickaxe in the other, and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. 
"And now," he exclaimed, remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman, which Faria had related to him, "now, open sesame!"  
凡是很长一段时间不走运的人，有时也会遇到意想不到的好运，唐太斯现在就是碰上了这种好运，他就要通过这个简单自然的方法达到他的目的了，可以不会引起任何人的怀疑登上那个小岛了。现在，距离他那朝思暮想的航行，只隔一夜了。 
那一夜是唐太斯一生中最心神不宁的一夜，在夜间各种各样有利的和不利的可能性都在他脑子里交替出现。一合上眼，他就看见红衣主教斯帕达的那封遗书用火红的字写在墙上，略微打个盹儿，脑子里就会出现一些最荒诞古怪的梦境。 
他梦见自己走进了岩洞，只见绿玉铺地，红玉筑墙，洞顶闪闪发光，挂满了金刚钻凝成的钟乳石。珍珠象凝聚在地下的水气那样一颗一颗的掉下来。爱德蒙心喜若狂，把那些光彩四射的宝石装满了几口袋，然后回到洞外，但在亮处，那些宝石都变成了平凡的石子。于是他想努力再走进这些神奇的洞窟，但道路却变蜿蜒曲折，化成了无数条小径，再也找不到进口了。他搜索枯肠，象阿拉伯渔夫回想那句神秘的魔法口诀可以开阿里巴巴的宝窟一样。但一切都没有用，宝藏消失了，他原想从护宝神的手上把宝藏偷走，现在宝藏却又回到了他们那儿去了。 
白天终于来临了，而白天几乎也象夜晚一样令人心神不安。但在白天除了幻想以外，还给人带来了理智。在此之前，唐太斯脑子里的计划本来还是模糊不清的，现在慢慢的明确了下来。夜晚来临了，出航的准备都已作好了。这些准备工作使唐太斯得以掩饰他内心的焦急。他已逐渐在他的同伴中建立起了自己的威信，简直成了船上的指挥官。由于他的信念总是很明白，清楚，而且易于执行，所以他的同伴们很乐于服从他，而且执行得很迅速。 
老船长并不干涉，放手让他去干。因为他也承认唐太斯确实比全体船员都高出一筹，甚至比他自己还高明。他觉得这个年轻人最适合做他的接班人，只可惜自己没有个女儿，以致无法用一个美满的婚姻来笼络住爱德蒙。到了晚上七点钟，一切都准备好了，七点十分他们已绕过了灯塔，塔上那时刚刚亮起灯光。海面上很平静，他们借着来自东南方向的一阵清新的和风在明亮的蓝空下航行，夜空上，上帝也点亮了他的指路明灯，而那每一盏灯都是一个世界。唐太斯让大伙儿都去休息，由他独自来把舵。马耳他人（他们这样称呼他）既然发了话，也就够了，大家就都心安理德地到他们的鸽子笼里去了。这也是常有的事。唐太斯虽然刚刚从孤独中挣脱出来，但有时却偏偏喜欢孤独，说到孤独，哪有比驾着一艘帆船，在朦胧的夜色里，无边的寂静中，苍天的俯视下，孤零零地漂浮在大海上的这种孤独更完美更富有诗意呢？ 
这一次，他的思想扰乱了孤独，幻想照亮了夜空，诺言打破了沉寂。当船长醒来的时候，船上的每一片帆都已扯了起来，鼓满了风，他们差不多正以每小时十海里的速度疾驶前进。基督山岛隐约地耸现在地平线上了。爱德蒙把船交给了船长来照看，自己则去躺在了吊床上。尽管昨天晚上一夜没合眼，现在却依旧一刻也不能合眼。两小时后，他又回到了甲板上，船已快要绕过厄尔巴岛了。他们现在正和马里西亚纳平行，还没到那平坦而荒芜的皮亚诺扎岛。基督山的山顶被火一样的太阳染成了血红色，衬托在蔚蓝色的天空上。唐太斯命令舵手把舵柄向左舷打，以便从皮亚诺扎的左边通过，这样就可以缩短两三海里的航程。傍晚五点钟时，小岛的面目已很清楚了，岛上的一切都历历在目，这是因为夕阳下，大气特别明亮透彻的缘故。 
爱德蒙非常热切地注视着那座山岩，山岩上正呈现着变化中的暮色，从最浅的粉红到最深的暗蓝，而热血不住地往他脸上涌，额头时而浮上阴云，他的眼前时而呈现一片薄雾。即使一个以全部家财作赌注拚死一博的赌徒，其所经验过的痛苦，恐怕也不会象爱德蒙这时徘徊在希望的边缘上所感到的那样剧烈。夜晚来了，到了十点钟他们抛锚停泊了。这次的约会还是少女阿梅丽号最先到达。唐太斯一向很能自制，但这次却再也压抑不住他的情感了。他第一个跳上岸，要是他胆敢冒险的话，他一定会象布鲁特斯那样“和大地接一个吻。”天很黑，但到了十一点钟，月亮从海上升了起来，把海面上染成了一片银色，然后，又一步步上升，把苍白色的光泻满了这座堪称皮隆［此山为希腊东北境内的高山，山中林木茂盛，景色秀丽，在希腊神话诗等文学记载中十分著名。］第二的岩石山。 
少女阿梅丽号的船员都很熟悉这个小岛，这是他们常常歇脚的地方。唐太斯在去勒旺的航行中虽多次经过它，却从未上去过。于是他问雅格布：“我们今晚在哪儿过夜？” 
“什么，当然是在船上了。”那水手回答道。 
“在岩洞里不是更好吗？” 
“什么岩洞？” 
“咦，岛上的岩洞呀。” 
“我不知道有什么岩洞，”雅格布说道。 
唐太斯的额头上冒出了一阵冷汗。“什么！基督山岛上没有岩洞？”他问道。 
“一个也没有。” 
唐太斯顿时惊得连话都说不出来了。但他转念一想，这些洞窟大概是由于某种意外的事故而被填没了，或许是红衣主教斯帕达为了更加小心而故意填没了的。那么，问题的关键就在寻找到那个填没了的洞口了。晚上去找是没用的，所以唐太斯只能把一切探寻工作放到第二天再去进行了。而且，在半里外的海面外已发出了一个信号，少女阿梅丽号也发回了一个同样的信号，这表示交货的时间已经到了。那艘帆船还是等在外面，在观察回答的信号究竟对不对，不久，它就静悄悄地驶近了，只见白朦朦的一片，象是一个幽灵似的，在离岸一箭路以外抛了锚。 
于是卸货的工作开始了。唐太斯一面干活，一面想，假如他把心里念念不忘的心思讲出来，则只要讲一个字就可以使所有这些人都高兴得大叫起来，但他丝毫没有泄漏这个宝贵的秘密，他怕自己已经说得太多了，他喋喋不休地提出些问题，东张西望的观察和显然若有所思的那种神态，说不定已引起了人们的怀疑。幸而，在当时，过去的痛苦的经历，帮了他的忙，那惨痛的往事在他的脸上映现出一种不可磨灭的哀伤，在这一重阴云之下，偶尔流露出的欢快的神情也只象是昙花一现而已。 
没有人产生丝毫的怀疑。第二天，当唐太斯拿起一支猎枪，带了一点火药和弹丸，准备去打几只在岩石上跳来跳去的野山羊的时候，大家都以为他这么做只是因为他爱好打猎或喜欢一个人安静一下而已。可是，雅格布却坚持要跟他一起去，唐太斯也没反对，深怕一旦反对，就会引起怀疑，他们还没走出四分之一里路，就已射杀了一只小山羊，于是他请雅格布把它背回到他的伙伴们那儿去，请他们去把它一烧，烧好以后，鸣枪一声通知他。这只小山羊再加上一些干果和一瓶普尔西亚诺山的葡萄酒，就是一顿很丰盛的酒宴了。唐太斯继续向前走去，不时地向后看着，并四面察看。当他爬到一块岩石顶上时，看见他的同伴们已在他的脚下，他已比他们高出一千尺左右。雅格布已和他们在一起了，他们正在忙碌地准备着，把爱德蒙狩猎的成绩做成一顿好菜。 
爱德蒙望了他们一会儿，脸上带着一个超群脱俗的人的那种悲哀而柔和的微笑。“两小时之后，”他说，“这些人就会每人分得五十个毕阿士特然后重新出发，冒着生命危险，再去挣上五十个毕阿士特。他们会带着一笔六百里弗的财富回家，然后带着象苏丹那样的骄傲，象印度富豪那样不可一世的神气，把这笔财富在某个城市里花得干干净净。现在，我的希望使我鄙视他们的财富，那笔钱在我看来似乎太不值一提了。但明天，或许幻想就会破灭，那时，我将不得不把这不值一提的财富当作至高无上的幸福。“噢，不！”他喊道，“不会发生这种事的。聪明的法利亚从来没算错过一件事，他不会单单在这件事上弄错的。而且，假如继续过这种贫穷卑贱的生活，倒还不如死了的好。”三个月之前，唐太斯除了自由以外原是别无所求的，现在，光有自由已不够了，他还渴望财富。这并不是唐太斯的错，而是上帝造成的，上帝限制了人的力量，却给了他无穷的欲望。 
这时，唐太斯正循着一条岩石夹道走着，这条小径是由一道激流冲成的，从各方面来看，这条路上大概从未有人走过，他觉得这一带一定有岩洞，就一步步向前走去。他现在是在顺着海滨走，一路走，一路极其注意地察看最细微的迹象，他自认为在某些岩石上可追踪到人工凿出的记号。 
“时间”给一切有形的物体披上了一件外衣，那件外衣就是苔藓，还有一件外衣是把一切无形的事物包裹在了里面，而那件外衣就叫“健忘”，可是它对于这些记号却似乎还相当尊重。这些记号相当有规律，大概是故意留下来的，有几处已被覆盖化一丛丛鲜花盛开着的香桃木底下，或寄生的地衣底下。 
所以爱德蒙必须拂开花枝或铲除苔藓方能看到在这个迷宫里给他指路的标记。这些痕迹重新燃起了他心中的希望。这难道不是红衣主教留下来，以备在横祸到来的时候，给他的侄子做路标的吗？但他却没有预料到他的侄子竟会和他同时在飞来横祸下毕命。假如一个人要想埋藏一宗宝藏，显然是喜欢选择这个孤僻的地方的。只是，这些泄露秘密的标记，除了最初创造它们的人以外，有没有引起过别人的注意呢？这个荒凉奇妙的小岛是否守着它那宝贵的秘密呢？ 
由于路面崎岖不平，爱德蒙的同伴们看不到他。当他追踪到离港口六十步远的地方时，记号中断了，记号中止的地方并不见有什么岩洞。只有一块圆形的大石头稳稳地立在那儿，似乎成了唯一的目标。爱德蒙心想，或许他到达的地方不是终点而是一个起点，所以他又转向，按原路追踪回去。 
在这期间，他的同伴们已把饭准备好了，他们从一处泉水那儿弄了一点清水来，摆开干果和面包，烤那只羔羊。正当他们把那香气扑鼻的烤羊肉从铁叉上取下来的时候，他们看见爱德蒙象一只羚羊那样轻捷而大胆地在岩石上跳来跳去于是他们按刚才约定的信号，放了一枪。那猎手立刻改变了他的方向，迅速地向他们奔来。正当他们注视着他那敏捷的跳跃，惊奇于他的大胆时，突然只见爱德蒙脚下一滑，他们看到他在一块岩石的边缘上摇晃了一下，就不见了。他们立刻向他冲了过去，尽管爱德蒙在各方面都比他们高出一筹，他们却都很爱戴他，而第一个跑到那儿的是雅格布。 
他发现爱德蒙直挺挺地躺地那儿，身上流着血，几乎已失去了知觉。他是从十二尺或十五尺高的地方滚下来的。他们往他嘴里倒了几滴朗姆西，这服药，以前曾对他很有效，这次也产生了和以前同样的效果。他睁开眼直叫膝盖痛得厉害，头觉得很重，腰也痛得厉害。他们想把抬到岸边去，由雅格布指挥着大伙抬他，可是他们一碰他，他就啊唷啊唷地叫个不停，说他动不了。 
唐太斯看来不能和大伙儿一起用餐了，他坚持要他的同伴们回去，他们没有理由和他呆在这儿不吃东西。至于他自己，他说只要休息一会儿，当他们回来的时候，他大概可以好一点了。水手们也不必多劝，因为他们实在是饿了，烤山羊的味道又非常的香，而且水手们之间本来也不讲究什么客套的。 
一小时以后，他们又回来了。爱德蒙所能做的也只是把自己向前拖了十几步，靠在一块长满苔藓的岩石上。 
但是，唐太斯的疼痛非但没有减轻，反而似乎更加厉害了。老船长因为要把那批货运到皮埃蒙特和法国边境，在尼斯和弗雷儒斯之间卸货上岸，所以不得不在早上开船。他催促唐太斯站起来试试看，爱德蒙费了很大的劲，但他每作一次努力就倒回去一次，嘴里不住的呻吟，脸色苍白。 
“他跌断肋骨了，”船长低声说，“没关系，他是个好伙伴，我们绝不能丢下他不管。我们设法来把他抬到船上去吧。”可唐太斯却说他情愿死在那儿，也不愿意受因最轻微的搬动而引起的痛苦。 
“好吧，”船长说，“只好听天由命了，我们不能让人说闲话，说我们抛弃了象你这样的一个好伙伴。我们等到晚上再走。” 
虽然谁也没反对这句话，但水手们都大为惊异，船长纪律极严，他们从来没见过他放弃一笔交易或迟延一次既定的行期，这次可是破天荒头一遭。唐太斯不同意为了他而做出这种破坏常例的举动。“不，不，”他对船长说。“是我太笨了，这是我行动笨拙应得的惩罚。给我留下一点饼干，一支枪，一点火药和子弹，这样我就可以打些小山羊或在需要的时候自卫，再留下一把鹤嘴锄，要是你们回来得晚了些，我可以给自己搭一间小茅屋。” 
“但你会饿死的呀。”船长说。 
“我情愿饿死，”爱德蒙回答，“也不愿动一下，就疼得难以忍受。船长转过身去看了看他的帆船，它正停泊在小港湾里，一部分帆已扯了起来，差不多一上去就可以出海了。” 
“我们该怎么办呢，马耳他人？”船长问。“我们既不能让你这样留在这儿，可我们也不能再等下去了。” 
“去吧，你们走吧！”唐太斯大声说道。 
“我们至少要离开一个星期，”船长说，“然后还绕道来这儿来接你。” 
“何必呢，”唐太斯说，“要是两三天之内你们碰到了什么渔船，叫他们到这儿来接我好了。我愿意付二十五个毕阿士特，算是带我回里窝那的船费。要是碰不到，你们回来的时候再来接我。” 
船长摇了摇头。 
“这样吧，波尔狄船长，这件事有一个办法可以解决，”雅格布说：“你们去吧，我留在这儿照顾他。” 
“你情愿放弃你的那份红利而来留下陪我吗？”爱德蒙问道。 
“是的，”雅格布说，“而且决不后悔。” 
“你是一个好人，是一个好心肠的伙伴，”爱德蒙说道。“你这样一片好心，上天会报答你的，但是我不需要任何人来陪我。我只要休息一两天就会好的，我希望能在岩石缝里找到一种最妙的跌伤草药。”他的嘴角上掠过一个奇妙的微笑。他亲热地紧紧的握住雅格布的手。但什么也不能动摇他的决心，他要留下来，而且独自一个人留下来。 
这些走私贩子只得给了他所要求的那些东西，然后便和他分别了，他们频频回头望他，每次回头都恋恋不舍表示道别。爱德蒙只挥手致意，仿佛他身体的其它部位都已不能动了似的。然后，当他们都走远了看不见了的时候，他微笑着说，“真是不可思议，想不到在这种人里边我们倒找到了真诚的友爱和帮助。现在，他小心地挪动身子，爬到一块可以俯视海面的岩石顶上，从那个地方，他看到那艘独桅船做好了一切出航的准备，收起了锚，象一只振翅待飞的水鸟似的优雅地晃了晃就出发了。一小时之后，它完全消失在视线以外了，至少，那受伤的人从他所在的地方再也看不到它了。于是，唐太斯一跃而起，简直比生长在这座荒山的香桃木和灌木丛中的小山羊更轻巧灵便，他一手握枪，一手拿鹤嘴锄，向记号尽头的那块岩石快步走去。“现在，”他想起了法利亚讲给他听的阿拉伯渔夫的故事，于是大声叫道，“现在芝麻开门吧！”　
Chapter 24 The Secret Cave
 THE SUN had nearly reached the meridian, and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks, which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. Thousands of grasshoppers, hidden in the bushes, chirped with a monotonous and dull note; the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald; afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. In a word, the island was inhabited, yet Edmond felt himself alone, guided by the hand of God. He felt an indescribable sensation somewhat akin to dread--that dread of the daylight which even in the desert makes us fear we are watched and observed. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor, he stopped, laid down his pickaxe, seized his gun, mounted to the summit of the highest rock, and from thence gazed round in every direction. 
But it was not upon Corsica, the very houses of which he could distinguish; or on Sardinia; or on the Island of Elba, with its historical associations; or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud, and Leghorn the commercial, that he gazed. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning, and the tartan that had just set sail, that Edmond fixed his eyes. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio; the other, following an opposite direction, was about to round the Island of Corsica. This sight reassured him. He then looked at the objects near him. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island,--a statue on this vast pedestal of granite, nothing human appearing in sight, while the blue ocean beat against the base of the island, and covered it with a fringe of foam. Then he descended with cautious and slow step, for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality. 
Dantès, as we have said, had traced the marks along the rocks, and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth, and deep in the centre, to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class, which would be perfectly concealed from observation. 
Then following the clew that, in the hands of the Abbé Faria, had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities, he thought that the Cardinal Spada, anxious not to be watched, had entered the creek, concealed his little barque, followed the line marked by the notches in the rock, and at the end of it had buried his treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantès back to the circular rock. One thing only perplexed Edmond, and destroyed his theory. How could this rock, which weighed several tons, have been lifted to this spot, without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. Instead of raising it, thought he, they have lowered it. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed, and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot it now occupied. A large stone had served as a wedge; flints and pebbles had been inserted around it, so as to conceal the orifice; this species of masonry had been covered with earth, and grass and weeds had grown there, moss had clung to the stones, myrtle-bushes had taken root, and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. 
Dantès dug away the earth carefully, and detected, or fancied he detected, the ingenious artifice. He attacked this wall, cemented by the hand of time, with his pickaxe. After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way, and a hole large enough to insert the arm was opened. Dantès went and cut the strongest olive-tree he could find, stripped off its branches, inserted it in the hole, and used it as a lever. But the rock was too heavy, and too firmly wedged, to be moved by any one man, were he Hercules himself. Dantès saw that he must attack the wedge. But how? He cast his eyes around, and saw the horn full of powder which his friend Jacopo had left him. He smiled; the infernal invention would serve him for this purpose. With the aid of his pickaxe, Dantès, after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer, dug a mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it, filled it with powder, then made a match by rolling his handkerchief in saltpetre. He lighted it and retired. The explosion soon followed; the upper rock was lifted from its base by the terrific force of the powder; the lower one flew into pieces; thousands of insects escaped from the aperture Dantès had previously formed, and a huge snake, like the guardian demon of the treasure, rolled himself along in darkening coils, and disappeared. 
Dantès approached the upper rock, which now, without any support, leaned towards the sea. The intrepid treasure-seeker walked round it, and, selecting the spot from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack, placed his lever in one of the crevices, and strained every nerve to move the mass. The rock, already shaken by the explosion, tottered on its base. Dantès redoubled his efforts; he seemed like one of the ancient Titans, who uprooted the mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. The rock yielded, rolled over, bounded from point to point, and finally disappeared in the ocean. 
On the spot it had occupied was a circular space, exposing an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. Dantès uttered a cry of joy and surprise; never had a first attempt been crowned with more perfect success. He would fain have continued, but his knees trembled, and his heart beat so violently, and his sight became so dim, that he was forced to pause. This feeling lasted but for a moment. Edmond inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength; the flag-stone yielded, and disclosed steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous grotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. Dantès turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," said he to himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. I must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been deceived. What, then, would be the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when, after having been elated by flattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Faria has dreamed this; the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here; perhaps he never came here, or if he did, C?sar Borgia, the intrepid adventurer, the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered his traces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, and descending before me, has left me nothing." He remained motionless and pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his feet. 
"Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity." And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. 
"Yes, yes; this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. Yes, Borgia has been here, a torch in one band, a sword in the other, and within twenty paces, at the foot of this rock, perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea, while their master descended, as I am about to descend, dispelling the darkness before his awe-inspiring progress." 
"But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?" asked Dantès of himself. 
"The fate," replied he, smiling, "of those who buried Alaric." 
"Yet, had he come," thought Dantès, "he would have found the treasure, and Borgia, he who compared Italy to an artichoke, which he could devour leaf by leaf, knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock. I will go down." 
Then he descended, a smile on his lips, and murmuring that last word of human philosophy, "Perhaps!" But instead of the darkness, and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find, Dantès saw a dim and bluish light, which, as well as the air, entered, not merely by the aperture he had just formed, but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without, and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks, and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern, the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp, Dantès' eye, habituated as it was to darkness, could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern, which was of granite that sparkled like diamonds. "Alas," said Edmond, smiling, "these are the treasures the cardinal has left; and the good abbé, seeing in a dream these glittering walls, has indulged in fallacious hopes." 
But he called to mind the words of the will, which he knew by heart. "In the farthest angle of the second opening," said the cardinal's will. He had only found the first grotto; he had now to seek the second. Dantès continued his search. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island; he examined the stones, and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed, masked for precaution's sake. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantès' forehead large drops of perspiration. At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo; he eagerly advanced, and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses, saw that there, in all probability, the opening must be. 
However, he, like C?sar Borgia, knew the value of time; and, in order to avoid fruitless toil, he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the butt of his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious, returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, and with greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As he struck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to the ground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones, then this stucco had been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantès struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which entered someway between the interstices. It was there he must dig. But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as the proofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, so did his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him fresh strength, deprived him of it; the pickaxe descended, or rather fell; he placed it on the ground, passed his hand over his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging to himself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no one was watching him, but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance; afar off, a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. 
Dantès had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger at such a moment; he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, and again entered the cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy, was now like a feather in his grasp; he seized it, and attacked the wall. After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed one upon the other, and covered with stucco; he inserted the point of his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at his feet. He had nothing more to do now, but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter, but by waiting, he could still cling to hope, and retard the certainty of deception. At last, after renewed hesitation, Dantès entered the second grotto. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first; the air that could only enter by the newly formed opening had the mephitic smell Dantès was surprised not to find in the outer cavern. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere, and then went on. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. But to Dantès' eye there was no darkness. He glanced around this second grotto; it was, like the first, empty. 
The treasure, if it existed, was buried in this corner. The time had at length arrived; two feet of earth removed, and Dantès' fate would be decided. He advanced towards the angle, and summoning all his resolution, attacked the ground with the pickaxe. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. Never did funeral knell, never did alarm-bell, produce a greater effect on the hearer. Had Dantès found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth, and encountered the same resistance, but not the same sound. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron," thought he. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening; Dantès seized his gun, sprang through the opening, and mounted the stair. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave, and was feeding at a little distance. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner; but Dantès feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention. 
He thought a moment, cut a branch of a resinous tree, lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast, and descended with this torch. He wished to see everything. He approached the hole he had dug. and now, with the aid of the torch, saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared, and Dantès could see an oaken coffer, bound with cut steel; in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate, which was still untarnished, the arms of the Spada family--viz., a sword, pale, on an oval shield, like all the Italian armorial bearings, and surmounted by a cardinal's hat; Dantès easily recognized them, Faria had so often drawn them for him. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there--no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty casket. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away, and he saw successively the lock, placed between two padlocks, and the two handles at each end, all carved as things were carved at that epoch, when art rendered the commonest metals precious. Dantès seized the handles, and strove to lift the coffer; it was impossible. He sought to open it; lock and padlock were fastened; these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. Dantès inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid, and pressing with all his force on the handle, burst open the fastenings. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell, still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood, and the chest was open. 
Edmond was seized with vertigo; he cocked his gun and laid it beside him. He then closed his eyes as children do in order that they may see in the resplendent night of their own imagination more stars than are visible in the firmament; then he re-opened them, and stood motionless with amazement. Three compartments divided the coffer. In the first, blazed piles of golden coin; in the second, were ranged bars of unpolished gold, which possessed nothing attractive save their value; in the third, Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds, pearls, and rubies, which, as they fell on one another, sounded like hail against glass. After having touched, felt, examined these treasures, Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy; he leaped on a rock, from whence he could behold the sea. He was alone--alone with these countless, these unheard-of treasures! was he awake, or was it but a dream? 
He would fain have gazed upon his gold, and yet he had not strength enough; for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him, and then rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo, terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures; then he returned, and, still unable to believe the evidence of his senses, rushed into the grotto, and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. This time he fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands convulsively, uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. He soon became calmer and more happy, for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. There were a thousand ingots of gold, each weighing from two to three pounds; then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns, each worth about eighty francs of our money, and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. and his predecessors; and he saw that the complement was not half empty. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls, diamonds, and other gems, many of which, mounted by the most famous workmen, were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. Dantès saw the light gradually disappear, and fearing to be surprised in the cavern, left it, his gun in his hand. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper, and he snatched a few hours' sleep, lying over the mouth of the cave. 
It was a night of joy and terror, such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime.  
太阳差不多已升到半空了，它那灼人的光芒直射到岩石上，岩石似乎也受不了那样的热度。成千只知了躲在草丛里，吱呀吱呀地叫个不停，那叫声很单调。杏桃木和橄榄树的叶子在风中摆动，索索作响。爱德蒙每走一步，总要惊跑几只象绿宝石一样闪闪发光的蜥蜴。他看到野山羊在远处的岩上跳来跳去。总之，这个小岛上的确是有生灵居住的，可爱德蒙却觉得他自己是孤独的，只有上帝的手在引导着他。他有一种说不出感觉，有点近乎恐怖，那是一种在光天化日之下，即使在沙漠里我们也怕被人看到的恐怖。这种情绪是这样的强烈，以致于当爱德蒙快要开始工作的时候，又放下了他的鹤嘴锄，抓起了枪，爬到了最高的一块岩石顶上，从那儿向四下里观望了一下。 
他所注视的地方，既不是那房屋隐约可辨的科西嘉岛，也不是撒丁岛，也不是那富有历史意义的厄尔巴岛，也不是延伸到无际的那一条隐隐约约的线条，只有水手老练的目光才能知道它是壮丽的热那亚和商业繁荣的里窝那。爱德蒙的眼睛所盯住的，是那艘清晨时动身的双桅船，和刚才开出去的那艘独桅船。前者刚刚消失在博尼法乔海峡里，后者所取的方向却正好相反，已快要经过科西嘉岛了。这一望使他放了心。他又望望自己附近的目标。看到自己正站在小岛的至高点上，就像这座巨大的花岗石台座上的一尊塑像，视野所及之处，渺无人迹，只有蓝色的天海拍击着小岛海岸，给小岛镶上了一圈白沫所组成的花边。他小心翼翼地慢步下来，深怕他假装出来的那种意外会真的发生。 
我们上文说过，唐太斯曾从大岩石那个地方出发，顺着记号往回走的。他发现，这些记号通到一条小溪，而这条小溪隐蔽的通向一个小湾，它象古代神话里管山林水泽女神的浴池。 
小湾的中部很深，开口处很宽，足以容纳一艘斯比罗娜［古代的一种简易平底小船］的小帆船藏在里面，外面望来是完全看不到的。 
唐太斯根据法里亚神甫嘱咐他的方法认真推敲手中的线索，他想，红衣主教斯帕达，为了不让别人发现他的行动，曾到过这个小湾，把他的小帆船藏在里面，然后从山峡中循着留记号的这条小径走，在小径尽头的大岩石处埋下了他的宝藏。这样一想，唐太斯就又回到了那块圆形大岩石那儿。只有一件事与爱德蒙的推理不合，使他感到很迷惑。这块大石头重达数吨，假如没有许多人一起用力，怎么能把它抬到这个地方上去呢？突然间一个想法闪过了他的脑子。“不是抬上来的，”他想道，“是把它推下来的。”他连蹦带跳的离开岩石，想找出它原先所在的位置。他很快就发现了一道斜坡，岩石正是顺着这条斜坡滑下来，一直滚到它现在所在的位置。圆形的大岩石旁边，还有一块大石头，这块大石头以前一定是用来顶住大圆石的滚势而做垫石的，岩石四周塞了许多石片和鹅卵石来掩饰洞口，周围又盖上了些泥土，野草从泥土里长了出来，苔藓布满了石面，香桃木也在那里生了根，于是那块大石就象是根深蒂固地长在地面上的一样了。 
唐太斯小心地扒开泥土，看出了或他自以为看出了这个巧妙的人间杰作。他用他的鹤嘴锄开始去刨这道被时间风化了的墙。在十分钟的劳动之后，这道墙屈服了，露出一个可以伸进一条手臂的洞口，唐太斯砍断了一棵他所能找到的最结实的橄榄树，削丫枝，插入洞里，把它当撬棒用。但那块岩石实在太重了，而且顶得非常结实，一个人的力量是无论如何也搬不动的。就是大力士赫拉克里斯来也是不行的。唐太斯知道他必须先想法搬开那块作为楔子的大石头。可怎么个搬法呢？ 
他向四周看了看，看到了他的朋友雅格布留给他的那—满满的山羊角火药。他笑了。这一魔鬼的发明可以助他达到目的了。唐太斯拿起鹤嘴锄，在大圆石和那块顶住它的大石头之间挖了一个如同工兵开路时想节省人力的坑沿，里面填满火药，然后用他的手帕卷了一点硝石作导火线，点燃导火线，赶快退开。爆炸声立刻随之而起。在圆石被火药的巨力一震，底部立刻松动了，下面的那块垫石碎成了片，四散乱飞，一大堆小昆虫从唐太斯先前所挖成的洞口里逃了出来，一条象是保护宝藏的大蛇，游动着窜了出来，一会儿就不见了。 
这时唐太斯走近那块大圆石，它现在已失去了支撑物，斜临着大海。这位勇敢的探宝者绕着大石转了一圈，选了一处似乎最容易进攻的地方，把他的撬棒插入一道裂缝，用尽了全力来撬那块大石头。大石被火药震过以后，本来就已松动，这时更是摇摇欲坠。唐太斯加倍用力。他就象古代拔山抗山神的提旦的子孙。巨石终于让步，滚动了，连翻着跟斗，最后消失在大海里了。 
在大石所呆的地方出现了一个圆形的空间，中间有一块四方形的石板，上面有一个铁环。唐太斯又惊又喜的大叫了一声，想不到第一次尝试就取得了这样圆满的成功。他很想继续干下去，但他的两条腿直发抖，他的心也跳得很厉害，他的眼睛也有些模糊了，因此他不得不暂时停下来，这种感觉只停留了一会儿。爱德蒙把他的撬棒插进铁环里，用尽全力一撬，大石板掀开了，露出了一个地下岩洞，洞口有象楼梯似的石级，一直向下延伸而去，直至消失在黑暗里。如果换了别人，此时一定会高兴地大喊一声，向洞里冲去的。但唐太斯却脸色苍白，站在洞口迟疑不决，现出深思的样子。“嗨，”他对自己说，“我是一个男子汉大丈夫。不走运对我来说已是常事，我绝对不能被失望所压倒。不然，我岂不是白吃了那么多的苦？法里亚只是做了一个梦。红衣主教斯帕达并没在这儿埋什么宝藏。 
或许他根本就没到这儿来过。即使他来过，凯撒·布琪亚，那个大胆的冒险家，那个不知疲倦，心狠手辣的强盗，一定也曾跟踪来过这里，发现了他的踪迹，象我一样循着这些记号来到了这里，也象我一样的撬起了这块石头，然后跑下洞去，他在我之前就已来过了，所以什么也没留给我了。”他依旧木然地站着，眼睛盯住他脚下那个幽暗的洞口，又说道，“我现在不想得到任何东西，我已对自己说过，要是对这件事还抱有任何希望，那实在是太蠢了，这次冒险只是出于好奇而已。”他依旧一动不动地站着，露出沉思的样子。 
“是的，是的，这样一次冒险是该在这位强盗国王一生的善恶大事中占有一席之地的。这件事看来尽管似乎荒诞无稽，但线索极多。是的，布琪亚曾来过这儿，一手举着火把，一手拿着剑，在二十步之内，或许就在这块岩石脚下，曾有两个卫兵守望着陆地和海上，而他们的主人就象我呆会儿要做的那样下到洞里，驱着黑暗冒险前进。” 
“既然两个卫兵知道了他的秘密，他们的命运又怎样了呢？”唐太斯自问道。“他们的命运，”他微笑着说道，“就象那些埋藏阿拉列［阿拉列是古代西哥特人的国王。他死后，怕别人侵犯他的坟墓，所以把墓地设在河床下。］的人一样，同样被埋葬了。” 
“可是，假若他来过的话，”唐太斯又想道，“他一定找到了那宝藏。而布琪亚，既然他把意大利比作一棵卷心菜，想一片一片地把它剥来吃掉，肯定对时间的价值是知道得很清楚的，他是不会再去费时间把这块大石重新安放在原处的，我还是下去吧。” 
于是，他嘴角挂着半信半疑的微笑，走进了洞里，嘴里喃喃地说着人生哲学最后的两个字——“也许！”，唐太斯本来以为洞里一定很黑暗，空气中一定带着浓重的腐臭味，但到了里面，他却看到一片浅蓝色的昏暗的光线，这种光线，象空气一样，并非只是从他刚才挖开的洞口那儿射来的，是从岩石的裂缝里穿进来。这些在洞外是看不到的，但到了洞里，却可以透过它们看到那蔚蓝的天空，看到那些长在石缝里的常春藤，卷须蔓和野草的枝叶。唐太斯在洞里站了几分钟，里面的空气并不潮湿，反倒很温暖，他的眼睛早已适应了在黑暗中看东西，所以即使是岩洞里最深的角落他也可以看得到。岩洞是由花岗石构成的，四壁生辉，就象钻石构成的。“唉！”爱德蒙微笑着说，“这不就是红衣主教留下的宝藏嘛！那位善良的神甫在梦中见到了这些闪闪发光的墙壁，就异想天开地妄想起来。” 
可他又想起了那遗嘱上的话，那些话他早已熟记在心里。 
红衣主教在遗嘱中说：“在第二个洞口之最深角。”他只找到了第一个洞口。现在得把第二个也找出来。唐太斯开始他的搜寻。他心想，这第二个洞口自然应该在岛的纵深处，而且为了预防被人发觉，自然也是很隐蔽的。他仔细在石块间察看着，看到有一面洞壁象是洞口，就敲敲听一下声音。鹤嘴锄最初敲上去时只发出了一声沉重浑浊的声音，那种声音使唐太斯的前额挂满了大滴的冷汗。最后，他觉得有一处洞壁似乎发出了一种较空洞和较深沉的回声，就赶紧把目光盯上去，凭着一个囚犯所特有的那种敏捷的观察力，他看出洞口很可能就在这里。 
但是，象布琪亚一样，他也知道时间的价值。为了避免做无用之功，他又用他的鹤嘴锄敲遍了其他各面的洞壁，用他的枪托敲遍了地面，直至发觉似乎没有什么可疑的地方了，才又回到了刚才他听到发出那种使人兴奋的声音的那一处洞壁前面。他又敲了一下，这一次用力较大。于是奇迹出现了。洞壁上掉下来一块象阿拉伯式雕刻衬底用的那种涂料，跌在地上碎成了片片，露出了一块白色的大石块来。这个洞口是用花岗石那样的石块封起来的。象在上面抹了一层色彩透明的涂料。 
唐太斯用鹤嘴锄尖利的一头敲上去，尖头嵌入了石缝。他必须在这个地方挖进去。但由于人体机能上某种奇怪的现象，唐太斯越是看到眼前这些事实，证实了法里亚神甫的话，他越是不觉得定心，越来越感到无力、沮丧，几乎失去了勇气。这新的进展不但没有使他增加新的力量，而且把他原有的力量也削弱了。鹤嘴锄落下来的时候，几乎是从他的手里滑下来的。他把它放到地上，用手擦了擦额头，回身跑上石级，虽说是去看看有没有人在窥视他，但实际上是因为他觉得快要昏倒了需要呼吸点新鲜空气。小岛上空无一人，火一样的骄阳照射着全岛，远处有几艘小渔船点缀在蓝色的海面上。 
唐太斯还没吃过一点东西，但此时，他并没觉得饿；他匆忙地喝了几口朗姆酒，便又回到了洞里。鹤嘴锄刚才似乎那样沉重，现在抓到他手里却已象一根鹅毛一般，他又拿它开始挖起来，几锄下去他发觉石块并没有砌死，只是一块一块的叠着，在外面抹上了一层涂料而已。他把鹤嘴锄的尖头插进去，用它的柄当撬棒用，不久就很高兴的看到那块石头开始转动了，并落在了他的脚下。现在他只要用鹤嘴锄的铁齿把石头一块一块的勾到身边来就得了。最初出现的洞口已足可容纳一个人进去但多等一会儿，他就可以多抱一会儿希望，迟一会儿证实自己是被欺骗了。终于，在略微迟疑了一下以后，唐太斯进入了第二个洞窟。这第二个洞窟的地势较第一个洞窟的低，光线也较阴暗，空气因为只能从新开的洞口进来，所以带有一股腐臭气味，这正是在第一洞窟中所没有而使唐太斯感到诧异的。他出来等了一会儿，让里面的空气换一下气，然后再进去。在洞口的左面，有一个又黑又深的角落。但对唐太斯的眼睛来说是没有黑暗可言的。他环视了一下这第二个洞窟，它象第一个一样，也是空空的一无所有。 
宝藏如果的确存在的话，它一定是埋在那个黑暗的角落里。令人激动的时刻终于来到了，只要挖开两尺土，唐太斯的命运就可以决定了。他向那个角落走去好象突然下了一个很大的决心似的，用鹤嘴锄猛击地面。掘到第五下或是第六下时，鹤嘴锄碰到了一样铁东西。这一个声音在听者耳中所产生的效力，简直比丧钟或警钟更为厉害。假如唐太斯发掘的结果是一无所得，他的脸色恐怕也不会比现在更惨白。他再把鹤嘴锄敲下去遇到了同样的抗拒力，但却是不同的声音，他想：“这是一只包了铁皮的木箱子。”正在这时，一个影子掠过了洞口，唐太斯抓起枪，窜出洞口，奔上石级。原来是一只野山羊奔过了岩石，下在不远处吃草。他如果想得到一顿午餐，这本来是一个很好的机会的，但唐太斯深怕他的枪声会引起注意。 
他想了一下，砍下一条多脂的树枝，在走私贩子们准备早餐的火堆上点燃了它，然后举着这支火把又下到洞里。他希望把一切都看清楚。他举着火把走近他刚才挖成的洞的前面，看到鹤嘴锄的确掘到了铁皮和木头。他把火把插在地上，重新开始了工作。一霎时，挖开了一块三尺长两尺宽的地面，唐太斯看到了一只橡木钱柜，外面包着一层已被挖破了的铁皮。在箱盖的中央，他看到镶着一块银片，尚未失去光泽，上面雕刻着斯帕达家族的武器，即一面椭圆形的盾牌，样子和意大利一般武器的式样差不多，上面插着一把宝剑，在剑和盾之上则是一顶红衣主教的帽子。唐太斯一眼就认出来了，因为法里亚以前曾常常画给他看。现在再没什么可怀疑的了，宝藏就在这儿，谁也不会这样费心费力的来埋藏一只空箱子的。一眨眼的功夫，他就清除了箱子上的杂物，看到在两把挂锁之间，稳稳地扣着一把大锁，箱子的两头各有一只提环，所有这些东西上面都有那个时代的雕刻。那个时代，艺术可以使最平凡的金属品变成宝物。唐太斯抓住两个提环，想用力把银柜提起来，但是提不动。他想打开它，但大锁和挂锁都扣得很紧，这些忠实的守卫者似乎不情愿交出它们的宝藏。唐太斯用鹤嘴锄尖利的一头插入箱盖缝里，用尽全力想把它们撬开。这一次只听箱盖一声响，木箱打开了，铁包皮也碎裂了，掉了下来，但仍紧紧地连在箱板上，木箱被完全打开了。 
唐太斯顿觉一阵头晕目眩，他扣上枪机，把它放在身边。 
起初他闭上眼睛，象小孩子一样，在星光皎洁的夜晚合目瞑想，想在他们自己的想象中看到比天上更多的星星，然后他又睁开眼睛，惊奇地站着。那只钱柜分成了三格。在每格里，闪耀着成堆的金币；在第二格里，排放着不曾磨光的金块，除了它们的价值以外，倒也没什么吸引人的地方；在第三格里，爱德蒙抓起成把的钻石，珍珠和红宝石，它们落下来的时候互相撞击着，发出象冰雹打在玻璃上那样的声音。他摸过，嗅过，详细察看过这些宝物以后，象一个突然发疯的人似的冲出洞外，跳到一块可以看到大海的岩石上。确实只有他一个人，只有他一个人伴随着这些连听都没听说过，数都数不清的宝物！他究竟是醒着呢，还是在做一场梦？ 
他本来很想老盯着他的金子，但他的精力支持不住了。他把头伏在手里，象是要防止失去理智似的。这样过了一会儿，他突然在基督山岛上的岩石间狂奔起来，他那种野性的喊叫声和疯狂的动作惊起了海鸟，吓坏了野山羊，然后他又返回来，心里仍然不敢相信自己刚才所看到的一切，他又再次冲进洞里，发觉自己的确是站在这些黄金和珠宝面前。这次，他跪了下来，作了一个只有上帝知道的祷告。一会儿他觉得自己平静了一些，也比较快乐了一些，因为直到现在他才开始相信自己的福分。于是他开始计算起他的财产来。金条共有一千块，每块重两磅至三磅，接着他堆起了二万五千个金艾居，每个艾居约值我们的钱八十法郎，上面刻有亚历山大六世和他以前的历代教皇的肖像，而他看到那一格只掏空了一半。然后他又捧了捧宝石，其中有许多是当时最有名的匠人镶嵌的，且不说其内在的价值，单是那种艺术化的嵌工就已非常名贵了。唐太斯看到光线渐渐幽暗了下来，担心继续留在洞里会被发现，就拿着枪走了出来。一片饼干和几口朗姆酒成了他的晚餐，他在洞口边上躺下来，睡了几小时。 
这一夜是甜密的一夜，也是恐怖的一夜，正如这个感情强烈的人在过去的生活中已经经历过的那两三夜一样。 
Chapter 25 The Unknown
 DAY, FOR WHICH Dantès had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes, again dawned. With the first light Dantès resumed his search. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening, and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape; but it wore the same wild, barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. Descending into the grotto, he lifted the stone, filled his pockets with gems, put the box together as well and securely as he could, sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken, and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance; then, quitting the grotto, he replaced the stone, heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite, filling the interstices with earth, into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants, such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn, then carefully watering these new plantations, he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps, leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. This done, he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. To wait at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching like a dragon over the almost incalculable riches that had thus fallen into his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart, which yearned to return to dwell among mankind, and to assume the rank, power, and influence which are always accorded to wealth--that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. 
On the sixth day, the smugglers returned. From a distance Dantès recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia, and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place, he met his companions with an assurance that, although considerably better than when they quitted him, he still suffered acutely from his late accident. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. To this question the smugglers replied that, although successful in landing their cargo in safety, they had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard-ship had just quitted the port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy, when they could but lament the absence of Dantès, whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. In fact, the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when, fortunately, night came on, and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica, and so elude all further pursuit. Upon the whole, however, the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned; while the crew, and particularly Jacopo, expressed great regrets that Dantès had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits, which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. 
Edmond preserved the most admirable self-command, not suffering the faintest indication of a smile to escape him at the enumeration of all the benefits he would have reaped had he been able to quit the island; but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away, he embarked that same evening, and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. Arrived at Leghorn, he repaired to the house of a Jew, a dealer in precious stones, to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. Dantès half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion; but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. The following day Dantès presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel, accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres, that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit, upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantès, residing in the Allées de Meillan, and also a young woman called Mercédès, an inhabitant of the Catalan village. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present, which Dantès hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family, who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend; but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune, left him by an uncle, whose sole heir he was. The superior education of Dantès gave an air of such extreme probability to this statement that it never once occurred to Jacopo to doubt its accuracy. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired, Dantès took leave of the captain, who at first tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew, but having been told the history of the legacy, he ceased to importune him further. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles, with directions from Dantès to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. 
Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor, Dantès proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia, distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all, and expressions of cordial interest in all that concerned him. To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. Then Dantès departed for Genoa. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay; this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman, who, having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fast-sailing vessels, was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill; the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. Dantès, struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel, applied to its owner to transfer it to him, offering sixty thousand francs, upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused, the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland, and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month, by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. A bargain was therefore struck. Dantès led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew; retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor, and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. 
The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel, but this Dantès declined with many thanks, saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone, and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself; the only thing the builder could oblige him in would be to contrive a sort of secret closet in the cabin at his bed's head, the closet to contain three divisions, so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself. The builder cheerfully undertook the commission, and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day, Dantès furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. 
The following day Dantès sailed with his yacht from Genoa, under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantès handled the helm. The boat, indeed, seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence, so promptly did it obey the slightest touch; and Dantès required but a short trial of his beautiful craft to acknowledge that the Genoese had not without reason attained their high reputation in the art of shipbuilding. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible; they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. Some insisted she was making for Corsica, others the Island of Elba; bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain; while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course; but no one thought of Monte Cristo. Yet thither it was that Dantès guided his vessel, and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day; his boat had proved herself a first-class sailer, and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty-five hours. Dantès had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore, and, instead of landing at the usual place, he dropped anchor in the little creek. The island was utterly deserted, and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away; his treasure was just as he had left it. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches, and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. 
A week passed by. Dantès employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island, studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service, till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. The former Dantès proposed to augment, the latter to remedy. 
Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo. As it drew near, he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. He immediately signalled it. His signal was returned, and in two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. Old Dantès was dead, and Mercédès had disappeared. Dantès listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness; but, leaping lightly ashore, he signified his desire to be quite alone. In a couple of hours he returned. Two of the men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it, and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles. For his father's death he was in some manner prepared; but he knew not how to account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercédès. 
Without divulging his secret, Dantès could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. There were, besides, other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining, and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to himself. His looking-glass had assured him, during his stay at Leghorn, that he ran no risk of recognition; moreover, he had now the means of adopting any disguise he thought proper. One fine morning, then, his yacht, followed by the little fishing-boat, boldly entered the port of Marseilles, and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence, on the never-to-be-forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d'If, he had been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. Still Dantès could not view without a shudder the approach of a gendarme who accompanied the officers deputed to demand his bill of health ere the yacht was permitted to hold communication with the shore; but with that perfect self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria, Dantès coolly presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn, and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded, he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. 
The first person to attract the attention of Dantès, as he landed on the Canebière, was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. Edmond welcomed the meeting with this fellow--who had been one of his own sailors--as a sure means of testing the extent of the change which time had worked in his own appearance. Going straight towards him, he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects, carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so; but not a word or look implied that he had the slightest idea of ever having seen before the person with whom he was then conversing. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility, Dantès proceeded onwards; but ere he had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. Dantès instantly turned to meet him. "I beg your pardon, sir," said the honest fellow, in almost breathless haste, "but I believe you made a mistake; you intended to give me a two-franc piece, and see, you gave me a double Napoleon." 
"Thank you, my good friend. I see that I have made a trifling mistake, as you say; but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon, that you may drink to my health, and be able to ask your messmates to join you." 
So extreme was the surprise of the sailor, that he was unable even to thank Edmond, whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. "Some nabob from India," was his comment. 
Dantès, meanwhile, went on his way. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion; his first and most indelible recollections were there; not a tree, not a street, that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles, from whence a full view of the Allées de Meillan was obtained. At this spot, so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances, his heart beat almost to bursting, his knees tottered under him, a mist floated over his sight, and had he not clung for support to one of the trees, he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. Recovering himself, however, he wiped the perspiration from his brows, and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. 
The nasturtiums and other plants, which his father had delighted to train before his window, had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. Leaning against the tree, he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house. Then he advanced to the door, and asked whether there were any rooms to be let. Though answered in the negative, he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the fifth floor, that, in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the concièrge that they were occupied, Dantès succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants, and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. 
The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week; and seeing them, Dantès sighed heavily. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantès; the very paper was different, while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared; the four walls alone remained as he had left them. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his; and, in spite of his efforts to prevent it, the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last, vainly calling for his son. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor's emotion, and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features; but they felt the sacredness of his grief, and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause, while, with instinctive delicacy, they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections, they both accompanied him downstairs, reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased, and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. As Edmond passed the door on the fourth floor, he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there; but he received, for reply, that the person in question had got into difficulties, and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. 
Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allées de Meillan belonged, Dantès next proceeded thither, and, under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport), purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five thousand francs, at least ten thousand more than it was worth; but had its owner asked half a million, it would unhesitatingly have been given. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house, now become the property of Dantès, were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds, etc., that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house, without the least augmentation of rent, upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. 
This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allées de Meillan, and a multitude of theories were afloat, none of which was anywhere near the truth. But what raised public astonishment to a climax, and set all conjecture at defiance, was the knowledge that the same stranger who had in the morning visited the Allées de Meillan had been seen in the evening walking in the little village of the Catalans, and afterwards observed to enter a poor fisherman's hut, and to pass more than an hour in inquiring after persons who had either been dead or gone away for more than fifteen or sixteen years. But on the following day the family from whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present, consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat, with two seines and a tender. The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor, but they had seen him, upon quitting the hut, merely give some orders to a sailor, and then springing lightly on horseback, leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix.  
唐太斯急不可耐地等待着黎明的到来，当曙光终于照在了基督山岛荒凉的海岸时，唐太斯就爬起来，登上昨天黄昏时他上去过的那块岩石顶上，极目四望，细察一景一物，但岛上依旧昨日那种荒芜的景象，他回到洞口，搬开那块石头，进去在口袋里装满了宝石，把箱子尽可能地埋好，又洒了些新土在上面，小心地用脚在上面踩了踩，使各处看来都一样。然后，走出洞来，把那块石头盖回原处，在上面堆了些破碎的岩石和大块的花岗石碎片，又用泥土填满石缝，移了几棵香桃木和荆棘花种植在这些石缝里，并给这些新移种的植物浇些水，使它们看起来象是很久以来就生长在这儿的一样，然后擦去四周的脚印，焦急地等待他的同伴回来。他并不想整天地去望着那些黄金和钻石，或留在基督山岛上，象一条龙似的守护着那些沉在地下的宝藏。他现在必须回到现实生活中去，回到人们中去，到社会上去重新获得地位，势力和威望，而在这个世界里，只有钱才能使人获得这一切，——钱是支配人类最有效和最伟大的力量。 
到了第六天，于是他装出一副艰难的样子，把他自己拖到了岸边，当他的同伴来到他眼前的时候，他就说尽管他已觉得好多了，但这次意外给他造成了极大的痛苦。然后他便向他们询问有关这次航行的情况。走私贩子们告诉他，虽然货是安全地卸到了岸上，但刚卸完，他们就得到消息，说是有一艘警戒船已从土伦港开出来，正扯着满帆向他们驶来。这使他们不得不尽可能快地避开他们的敌人，他们一路惋惜唐太斯不在船上，因为他那高超的驾船技巧在那种紧要关头对他们是极有帮助的。事实上，那艘追逐的船差一点追上了他们，幸亏他们当时借助夜色绕过科西嘉海峡，摆脱了追踪。总的说来，这次各方都挺满意的。船员们，尤其是雅格布，对于唐太斯没能和他们同去深表遗憾，不然，他也可以得到一份和他们相等的红利，每人足足得了五十个毕阿士特。 
爱德蒙仍然不露声色，尽管他能想象到，只要离开这个小岛他就可以得到多大的好处，但他仍不露一丝微笑。毕竟少女阿梅丽号到基督山岛来是专为来接他的，他当晚就上了船，和船长一同继续向里窝那驶进。到了里窝那，他走进了一个做珠宝商的犹太人的店里，拿出了四颗最小的钻石，每颗卖了五千法郎。起初唐太斯还担心这样值钱的珠宝拿在象他这样穷苦的水手手里也许会引起别人怀疑，但那精明的买主对于这笔他至少可以赚到四千法郎的交易并没提出任何疑异。 
第二天，唐太斯买了一艘全新的帆船送给了雅格布，另外还送了他一笔一百毕阿士特，使他可以雇一批合适的船员和购办其他必要的配备，不过附带了一个条件，就是必须马上到马赛去打听一个名叫路易·唐太斯，住在梅朗巷的老人，和一个住在迦太罗尼亚人村，名叫美塞苔丝的年轻姑娘。 
这次可轮到雅格布以为自己在做梦了。唐太斯告诉他，他之所以当了一名水手，完全是出于他的怪癖，他和他的朋友们赌了一口气，因为他们不许他称心如意的花钱。这次到了里窝那，他得到了一大笔财产，是他的一位叔父遗赠给他的，他是他叔父唯一的继承人。唐太斯所表现出的优良教养使这番话听来极其可信，所以雅格布丝毫也没怀疑它的真实性。爱德蒙在少女阿梅丽号上的服务合同已到期了，他去和船长告别时，后者最初竭力想挽留住他，但在听说了那遗产的事以后，也就不再强求了。第二天早晨，雅格布扬帆向马赛驶去，唐太斯和他约好在基督山岛相会。 
目送雅格布出港远去以后，唐太斯就又回到少女阿梅丽号上去作最后的告别，他赠送了许多礼物给船员，船员们一致祝他好运。对于他的一切都表示热切的关注。至于船长，他答应在他决定了未来的计划以后就写信告诉他。这一幕告别结束以后，唐太斯就去了热那亚。当他到达那儿的时候，一艘小游艇正在港湾里试航。这艘小游艇是一个英国人定制的，他因为听说热那亚人是地中海沿岸制造快航帆船的行家里手，所以很希望得以证实一下。于是那英国人和热那亚船商讲定的价钱是四万法郎。唐太斯愿出六万法郎买下它，条件是必须立刻把船交给他。定造这艘游艇的那个人已到瑞士去旅行了，要过三四个星期才能回来，在这期间，船商估计可以另造一艘。 
所以这笔交易就谈成了。唐太斯把船商带到一个犹太人的家里，和犹太人到一间很狭小的后客厅里单独谈了几分钟，回来的时候，犹太人就数了六万法郎给了造船商。 
造船商主动提出给那艘小帆船配备一个水手班子，但被唐太斯婉言谢绝了。他说他惯于独自航行，他惟一的希望就是造船商能在他船舱的床头设计安装上一个秘密柜，柜里要有三个暗格。他说了这些暗格的尺寸，第二天就做好了。 
两小时以后，唐太斯便在众多好奇者的目光下驶出了热那亚港口，那些人都出于好奇，想来看看这位喜欢亲自驾船的，有钱的西班牙贵族。唐太斯驾船应付自如，他不用离开舵，只需轻轻拨一下舵柄，就可使他的游艇按他的意愿行驶。它真象是一个小精灵，只要一点轻微的指示，就会立刻服从。唐太斯把他这艘美丽的船略试一试，便信服了，热那亚人不愧有世界上一流造船好手的美誉。好奇的人们望着这艘小帆船，直到它消失在他们的视野之外，然后他们转过身来，纷纷猜测它可能去的目的地。有些人坚持说它是到科西嘉岛去的，有些人则坚持说是厄尔巴岛。有些人打赌说它一定到西班牙去，而有些人则固执地以为它是到非洲去的。但谁都没有想到基督山岛。 
可是，唐太斯所去的地方正是基督山岛。他在第二天傍晚就到了那里。这是因为他的游艇的确是一艘一流的帆船，从热那亚到这儿的航行只花了三十五小时。唐太斯仔细地观察了一下岸边的情况，他没在老地方靠岸，却在小湾里抛了锚。小岛上空无一人，自从他上次离开以来，似乎再也没人来过。他的宝藏仍和他离开它的时候一样。第二天一早，他就开始搬运他的财富，在夜幕落下以前，他那笔庞大的财富已全部安全地藏进了他的秘密柜的暗格里。 
一个星期过去了。唐太斯用这一段时间反复研究他的游艇，象个老练的骑师研究他那将委以重任的骏马一样。终于他完全摸清了游艇的优点和缺点，他准备尽量发挥其优点，弥补其它的缺点。 
到第八天，他看见有一艘小帆船扯满了帆正向基督山岛驶来。当它驶近些的时候，他认出那正是他送给雅格布的那艘船。他立刻向它发出了一个信号。他的信号得到了答复，两小时后那艘小帆船靠在了游艇旁边。唐太斯急切地提出的问题得到的都是悲哀的答复。老唐太斯死了，美塞苔丝失踪了。唐太斯神态很镇静地听完了这些伤心的消息，但当他上岸去的时候，他示意不愿有人去打扰他。两小时后，他回来了。雅格布的船上调了两个水手到游艇上，协助驶船，于是他下令把船直向马赛驶去。他父亲的死多少是在他意料之中的，但美塞苔丝究竟怎么样了呢？ 
唐太斯因为不想泄漏他的秘密，所以就无法给手下人以明确的指示。而且，他很想了解一些详情，而那样，他只有亲自去调查了，上次他在里窝那照镜子以后便很放心了，知道决不会有被人认出的危险，况且，他现在可以随心所欲地打扮自己。于是，在一个晴朗的早晨，他的游艇，后面跟着那艘小帆船，勇敢地驶进了马赛港，不偏不倚地在那个值得纪念的地点前面抛了锚，那就是他终生难忘的那一夜，当他被兵挟上船，被押解到伊夫堡去的那个码头。当看到一个宪兵驾着一艘检疫船驶来的时候，唐太斯不由地打了一个寒颤。但凭借他和法利亚相处时所获得的那种自持力，他冷静地拿出了他在里窝那买来的英国护照，当时，英国护照在法国比我们本国的护照更受尊重，所以凭借那个外国护照，唐太斯毫无困难的上了岸。 
当唐太斯走在卡尼般丽街上的时候，第一个引起他注意的是一个法老号上的船员。这个人曾在他手下干过，爱德蒙一看见这个人就大声叫住了他，想借此对自己外表上所起的变化作一番精确的考验。他径直地向他走过去，提出了许多的问题，一边问一边小心地观察那人的面部表情，但不论从言谈上或神色上，都一点也看不出对方似乎认识眼前同他谈话的这个人。唐太斯给了那水手一枚金币，以答谢他提供的情况，然后继续向前走去。但他还没走出几步远，就听到那个人又追上了他。唐太斯转过身去。“对不起，先生，”那个诚实的人几乎上气不接下气地说道，“我想是你弄错了，你本来是想给我一个四十苏的角子，而你却给了我一个双拿破仑［拿破仑时代的一种金币，价值四十法郎］。” 
“谢谢你，我的好朋友。看来我是有点弄错了，但你的这种诚实的精神该受到奖赏，我再给你一个双拿破仑，请你拿去和你的同伴们一起为我的健康干一杯吧。” 
那水手惊诧不已，甚至都没想到谢谢一声爱德蒙，只带着说不出的惊讶凝视着他那逐渐远去的背影。最后，他深深地吸了一口气，再看一看他手中的金币，回到了码头上，自言自语的说：“这是印度来的一个大富翁。” 
唐太斯继续向前走去。他每迈出一步，自己的心上就添上一个新的感触。在他的记忆中，最初和最不可磨灭的，就是这个地方。他所经过的每一棵树，每一条街，都无一不唤起他对那亲切而珍爱的往事的回忆。当他走到诺黎史路的尽头，望见梅朗巷的时候，他感到双膝在发抖，差一点跌倒在一辆马车的车轮下。最后，他终于走到了他父亲从前住过的那座房子前面。 
那善良的老人所喜欢的牵牛花和其他花木，以前曾盘绕在他的窗前，现在一看那座房子的上面，什么都不见了。唐太斯靠在一棵树上，对那座可怜的小房子凝视了许久，然后他才走到门口，问这座屋子是否有空余房间出租。虽然得到了否定的答复，他还是热切地恳求允许他去看一下六楼上的那些房间，看门人就上去问那两个房间的房客，是否允许一个陌生人来看一下房子。房客是一对刚在一星期以前结婚的青年夫妇，唐太斯看着他们，深深地叹了一口气。 
这层楼只有这两个小间，房间里已找不到一点儿老唐太斯留下的任何痕迹了连墙纸都与以前不同了。旧时的家具，在他的童年时代是这样的熟悉，一桌一椅都深深地刻在他的记忆里，现在却都不见了，只有四面的墙壁依然如旧。眼前这对居民的床，仍然放在这个房间以前那个房客放床的老地方。爱德蒙虽极力抑制着自己的感情，但当他一想到那个老人曾躺在这个位置徒然地呼唤着他的儿子的名字而断气时，他的眼睛里不由自主地涌满了泪水。那对青年夫妇看到这位面色严肃的人泪流满面，觉得很惊奇，但他们感到他的悲伤里有一种庄严的滋味。就克制住自己，不去问他。他们让他独自发泄他的悲哀。当他退出去的时候，他们一齐陪他下楼，并向他表示，只要他愿意，他随时都可以再来，再三向他保证，他们这小屋是永远欢迎你的。当爱德蒙经过五楼的时候，他在一个房间门口停了下来，询问裁缝卡德鲁斯是否还住在那儿，得到的答复是，那个人境况很困难，目前在比里加答到布揆耳的路上开了一家小客栈。 
唐太斯问清了梅朗巷这座房子房东的地址，就到了那里，以威玛勋爵的名义（这是他护照上的姓名和头衔）买下了那座小房子，出价是二万五千法郎，至少比它本身的价值超出了一万法郎。但即使房东要十倍于他所讨的数目，那笔钱他也会毫无疑问地拿到的。那所房子现在是唐太斯的产业了，就在当天，六楼的房客得到一份办理转移房契手续的律师的通知，说是新房东让他们随意在这座房子里选择一套房间来住，一点也不加房租，唯一的条件是他们得让出现在所住的那两个小房间。 
这件怪事成了梅朗巷附近好奇的人们的谈话资料，人们作了种种猜测，但没有一种是猜对的。而使人们最为惊奇的，并使一切推测都落了空的，是这位曾在早晨去访问过梅朗巷的怪客，傍晚时竟有人看到他在迦太罗尼亚人住的小村庄里散步，后来走进了一个穷苦的渔夫的茅舍里，在那里消磨了一个多钟头，他所询问的人，不是已经去世，就是在十五六年前就离开了。第二天，被走访过那户人家收到了一份可观的礼物，包括一艘全新的渔船和各种大大小小的优质渔网。收到这份厚礼的人家自然很欢喜，很高兴能向这位慷慨的赐主表示他们的谢意，但他们看到他离开茅屋以后，只对一个水手吩咐了几句话，便轻轻地跃上马背，顺着埃克斯港离开了马赛。 
Chapter 26 The Pont du Gard Inn
 SUCH OF MY readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed, about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde,--a little nearer to the former than to the latter,--a small roadside inn, from the front of which hung, creaking and flapping in the wind, a sheet of tin covered with a grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left-hand side of the post road, and backed upon the Rhone. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden, consisting of a small plot of ground, on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. A few dingy olives and stunted fig-trees struggled hard for existence, but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic, tomatoes, and eschalots; while, lone and solitary, like a forgotten sentinel, a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive spot, and displayed its flexible stem and fan-shaped summit dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the sub-tropical sun. 
In the surrounding plain, which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground, were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat, the effect, no doubt, of a curious desire on the part of the agriculturists of the country to see whether such a thing as the raising of grain in those parched regions was practicable. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper, which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident, monotonous note. 
For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife, with two servants,--a chambermaid named Trinette, and a hostler called Pecaud. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements, for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach. And, as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper, whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing, it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted, not a hundred steps from the inn, of which we have given a brief but faithful description. 
The inn-keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty-five years of age, tall, strong, and bony, a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes; he had dark, sparkling, and deep-set eyes, hooked nose, and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal; his hair, like his beard, which he wore under his chin, was thick and curly, and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. His naturally dark complexion had assumed a still further shade of brown from the habit the unfortunate man had acquired of stationing himself from morning till eve at the threshold of his door, on the lookout for guests who seldom came, yet there he stood, day after day, exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun, with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it, after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. This man was our old acquaintance, Gaspard Caderousse. His wife, on the contrary, whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle, was pale, meagre, and sickly-looking. Born in the neighborhood of Arles, she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial; but that beauty had gradually withered beneath the devastating influence of the slow fever so prevalent among dwellers by the ponds of Aiguemortes and the marshes of Camargue. She remained nearly always in her second-floor chamber, shivering in her chair, or stretched languid and feeble on her bed, while her husband kept his daily watch at the door--a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness, as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate, who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate; to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply, in these philosophic words:-- 
"Hush, La Carconte. It is God's pleasure that things should be so." 
The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village, so called, situated between Salon and Lambesc; and as a custom existed among the inhabitants of that part of France where Caderousse lived of styling every person by some particular and distinctive appellation, her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine, which, in all probability, his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce. Still, let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence, the unfortunate inn-keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits, and the daily infliction of his peevish partner's murmurs and lamentations. 
Like other dwellers in the south, he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires, but fond of external show, vain, and addicted to display. During the days of his prosperity, not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France, bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and Andalusians; while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles, a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. But, by degrees, watch-chains, necklaces, parti-colored scarfs, embroidered bodices, velvet vests, elegantly worked stockings, striped gaiters, and silver buckles for the shoes, all disappeared; and Gaspard Caderousse, unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor, had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities, both for himself and wife, although a bitter feeling of envious discontent filled his mind as the sound of mirth and merry music from the joyous revellers reached even the miserable hostelry to which he still clung, more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. 
Caderousse, then, was, as usual, at his place of observation before the door, his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass--on which some fowls were industriously, though fruitlessly, endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate--to the deserted road, which led away to the north and south, when he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife, and grumbling to himself as he went, he mounted to her chamber, first taking care, however, to set the entrance door wide open, as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. 
At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door, the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid-day. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand, with its sides bordered by tall, meagre trees, altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance, that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller, at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying, would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. Nevertheless, had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer, he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde; as the moving object drew nearer, he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and horse, between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. The horse was of Hungarian breed, and ambled along at an easy pace. His rider was a priest, dressed in black, and wearing a three-cornered hat; and, spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun, the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. 
Having arrived before the Pont du Gard, the horse stopped, but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. However that might have been, the priest, dismounting, led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen door, he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief, from his pocket, wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow, then, advancing to the door, struck thrice with the end of his iron-shod stick. At this unusual sound, a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode, snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to society. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the upper floor, and, with many bows and courteous smiles, mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter. 
"You are welcome, sir, most welcome!" repeated the astonished Caderousse. "Now, then, Margotin," cried he, speaking to the dog, "will you be quiet? Pray don't heed him, sir!--he only barks, he never bites. I make no doubt a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot day." Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the traveller he had to entertain, Caderousse hastily exclaimed: "A thousand pardons! I really did not observe whom I had the honor to receive under my poor roof. What would the abbé please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is at his service." 
The priest gazed on the person addressing him with a long and searching gaze--there even seemed a disposition on his part to court a similar scrutiny on the part of the inn-keeper; then, observing in the countenance of the latter no other expression than extreme surprise at his own want of attention to an inquiry so courteously worded, he deemed it as well to terminate this dumb show, and therefore said, speaking with a strong Italian accent, "You are, I presume, M. Caderousse?" 
"Yes, sir," answered the host, even more surprised at the question than he had been by the silence which had preceded it; "I am Gaspard Caderousse, at your service." 
"Gaspard Caderousse," rejoined the priest. "Yes,--Christian and surname are the same. You formerly lived, I believe in the Allées de Meillan, on the fourth floor?" 
"I did." 
"And you followed the business of a tailor?" 
"True, I was a tailor, till the trade fell off. It is so hot at Marseilles, that really I believe that the respectable inhabitants will in time go without any clothing whatever. But talking of heat, is there nothing I can offer you by way of refreshment?" 
"Yes; let me have a bottle of your best wine, and then, with your permission, we will resume our conversation from where we left off." 
"As you please, sir," said Caderousse, who, anxious not to lose the present opportunity of finding a customer for one of the few bottles of Cahors still remaining in his possession, hastily raised a trap-door in the floor of the apartment they were in, which served both as parlor and kitchen. Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at the expiration of five minutes, he found the abbé seated upon a wooden stool, leaning his elbow on a table, while Margotin, whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments, had crept up to him, and had established himself very comfortably between his knees, his long, skinny neck resting on his lap, while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face. 
"Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest, as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. 
"Quite, quite alone," replied the man--"or, at least, practically so, for my poor wife, who is the only person in the house besides myself, is laid up with illness, and unable to render me the least assistance, poor thing!" 
"You are married, then?" said the priest, with a show of interest, glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment. 
"Ah, sir," said Caderousse with a sigh, "it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man; but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest." The abbé fixed on him a searching, penetrating glance. 
"Yes, honest--I can certainly say that much for myself," continued the inn-keeper, fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbé's gaze; "I can boast with truth of being an honest man; and," continued he significantly, with a hand on his breast and shaking his head, "that is more than every one can say nowadays." 
"So much the better for you, if what you assert be true," said the abbé; "for I am firmly persuaded that, sooner or later, the good will be rewarded, and the wicked punished." 
"Such words as those belong to your profession," answered Caderousse, "and you do well to repeat them; but," added he, with a bitter expression of countenance, "one is free to believe them or not, as one pleases." 
"You are wrong to speak thus," said the abbé; "and perhaps I may, in my own person, be able to prove to you how completely you are in error." 
"What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise. 
"In the first place, I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of." 
"What proofs do you require?" 
"Did you, in the year 1814 or 1815, know anything of a young sailor named Dantès?" 
"Dantès? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why, Edmond Dantès and myself were intimate friends!" exclaimed Caderousse, whose countenance flushed darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze of the abbé fixed on him, while the clear, calm eye of the questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. 
"You remind me," said the priest, "that the young man concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of Edmond." 
"Said to bear the name!" repeated Caderousse, becoming excited and eager. "Why, he was so called as truly as I myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse; but tell me, I pray, what has become of poor Edmond? Did you know him? Is he alive and at liberty? Is he prosperous and happy?" 
"He died a more wretched, hopeless, heart-broken prisoner than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the galleys of Toulon." 
A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of Caderousse, who turned away, and the priest saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red handkerchief twisted round his head. 
"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" murmured Caderousse. "Well, there, sir, is another proof that good people are never rewarded on this earth, and that none but the wicked prosper. Ah," continued Caderousse, speaking in the highly colored language of the south, "the world grows worse and worse. Why does not God, if he really hates the wicked, as he is said to do, send down brimstone and fire, and consume them altogether?" 
"You speak as though you had loved this young Dantès," observed the abbé, without taking any notice of his companion's vehemence. 
"And so I did," replied Caderousse; "though once, I confess, I envied him his good fortune. But I swear to you, sir, I swear to you, by everything a man holds dear, I have, since then, deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate." There was a brief silence, during which the fixed, searching eye of the abbé was employed in scrutinizing the agitated features of the inn-keeper. 
"You knew the poor lad, then?" continued Caderousse. 
"I was called to see him on his dying bed, that I might administer to him the consolations of religion." 
"And of what did he die?" asked Caderousse in a choking voice. 
"Of what, think you, do young and strong men die in prison, when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year, unless it be of imprisonment?" Caderousse wiped away the large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow. 
"But the strangest part of the story is," resumed the abbé, "that Dantès, even in his dying moments, swore by his crucified Redeemer, that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention." 
"And so he was," murmured Caderousse. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah, sir, the poor fellow told you the truth." 
"And for that reason, he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate, and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it." 
And here the look of the abbé, becoming more and more fixed, seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse. 
"A rich Englishman," continued the abbé, "who had been his companion in misfortune, but had been released from prison during the second restoration, was possessed of a diamond of immense value; this jewel he bestowed on Dantès upon himself quitting the prison, as a mark of his gratitude for the kindness and brotherly care with which Dantès had nursed him in a severe illness he underwent during his confinement. Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers, who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor, Dantès carefully preserved it, that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live, for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune." 
"Then, I suppose," asked Caderousse, with eager, glowing looks, "that it was a stone of immense value?" 
"Why, everything is relative," answered the abbé. "To one in Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs." 
"Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse, "fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that." 
"No," replied the abbé, "it was not of such a size as that; but you shall judge for yourself. I have it with me." 
The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest's garments, as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure. Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen, the abbé opened it, and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained, set in a ring of admirable workmanship. "And that diamond," cried Caderousse, almost breathless with eager admiration, "you say, is worth fifty thousand francs?" 
"It is, without the setting, which is also valuable," replied the abbé, as he closed the box, and returned it to his pocket, while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. 
"But how comes the diamond in your possession, sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?" 
"No, merely his testamentary executor. 'I once possessed four dear and faithful friends, besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed' he said; 'and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse.'" The inn-keeper shivered. 
"'Another of the number,'" continued the abbé, without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, "'is called Danglars; and the third, in spite of being my rival, entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about to break in upon the abbé's speech, when the latter, waving his hand, said, "Allow me to finish first, and then if you have any observations to make, you can do so afterwards. 'The third of my friends, although my rival, was much attached to me,--his name was Fernand; that of my betrothed was'--Stay, stay," continued the abbé, "I have forgotten what he called her." 
"Mercédès," said Caderousse eagerly. 
"True," said the abbé, with a stifled sigh, "Mercédès it was." 
"Go on," urged Caderousse. 
"Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbé. 
Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; and after pouring some into a glass, and slowly swallowing its contents, the abbé, resuming his usual placidity of manner, said, as he placed his empty glass on the table,--"Where did we leave off?" 
"The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercédès." 
"To be sure. 'You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantès,--for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered them. Do you understand?" 
"Perfectly." 
"'You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money into five equal parts, and give an equal portion to these good friends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'" 
"But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only mentioned four persons." 
"Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in Edmond's bequest, was his own father." 
"Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him, "the poor old man did die." 
"I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbé, making a strong effort to appear indifferent; "but from the length of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder Dantès, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. Can you enlighten me on that point?" 
"I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. "Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man. Ah, yes, about a year after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died." 
"Of what did he die?" 
"Why, the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis, I believe; his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, who saw him in his dying moments, I say he died of"--Caderousse paused. 
"Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly. 
"Why, of downright starvation." 
"Starvation!" exclaimed the abbé, springing from his seat. "Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread; and that a man, a Christian, should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who call themselves Christians, is too horrible for belief. Oh, it is impossible--utterly impossible!" 
"What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse. 
"And you are a fool for having said anything about it," said a voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?" 
The two men turned quickly, and saw the sickly countenance of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails; attracted by the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs, and, seated on the lower step, head on knees, she had listened to the foregoing conversation. "Mind your own business, wife," replied Caderousse sharply. "This gentleman asks me for information, which common politeness will not permit me to refuse." 
"Politeness, you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. "What have you to do with politeness, I should like to know? Better study a little common prudence. How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to extract all he can from you?" 
"I pledge you my word, madam," said the abbé, "that my intentions are good; and that you husband can incur no risk, provided he answers me candidly." 
"Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear; but when poor, silly folks, like my husband there, have been persuaded to tell all they know, the promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten; and at some moment when nobody is expecting it, behold trouble and misery, and all sorts of persecutions, are heaped on the unfortunate wretches, who cannot even see whence all their afflictions come." 
"Nay, nay, my good woman, make yourself perfectly easy, I beg of you. Whatever evils may befall you, they will not be occasioned by my instrumentality, that I solemnly promise you." 
La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words, then let her head again drop upon her knees, and went into a fit of ague, leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, but remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. Again the abbé had been obliged to swallow a draught of water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. When he had sufficiently recovered himself, he said, "It appears, then, that the miserable old man you were telling me of was forsaken by every one. Surely, had not such been the case, he would not have perished by so dreadful a death." 
"Why, he was not altogether forsaken," continued Caderousse, "for Mercédès the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind to him; but somehow the poor old man had contracted a profound hatred for Fernand--the very person," added Caderousse with a bitter smile, "that you named just now as being one of Dantès' faithful and attached friends." 
"And was he not so?" asked the abbé. 
"Gaspard, Gaspard!" murmured the woman, from her seat on the stairs, "mind what you are saying!" Caderousse made no reply to these words, though evidently irritated and annoyed by the interruption, but, addressing the abbé, said, "Can a man be faithful to another whose wife he covets and desires for himself? But Dantès was so honorable and true in his own nature, that he believed everybody's professions of friendship. Poor Edmond, he was cruelly deceived; but it was fortunate that he never knew, or he might have found it more difficult, when on his deathbed, to pardon his enemies. And, whatever people may say," continued Caderousse, in his native language, which was not altogether devoid of rude poetry, "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living." 
"Imbecile!" exclaimed La Carconte. 
"Do you, then, know in what manner Fernand injured Dantès?" inquired the abbé of Caderousse. 
"Do I? No one better." 
"Speak out then, say what it was!" 
"Gaspard!" cried La Carconte, "do as you will; you are master--but if you take my advice you'll hold your tongue." 
"Well, wife," replied Caderousse, "I don't know but what you're right!" 
"So you will say nothing?" asked the abbé. 
"Why, what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. "If the poor lad were living, and came to me and begged that I would candidly tell which were his true and which his false friends, why, perhaps, I should not hesitate. But you tell me he is no more, and therefore can have nothing to do with hatred or revenge, so let all such feeling be buried with him." 
"You prefer, then," said the abbé, "that I should bestow on men you say are false and treacherous, the reward intended for faithful friendship?" 
"That is true enough," returned Caderousse. "You say truly, the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as Fernand and Danglars; besides, what would it be to them? no more than a drop of water in the ocean." 
"Remember," chimed in La Carconte, "those two could crush you at a single blow!" 
"How so?" inquired the abbé. "Are these persons, then, so rich and powerful?" 
"Do you not know their history?" 
"I do not. Pray relate it to me!" Caderousse seemed to reflect for a few moments, then said, "No, truly, it would take up too much time." 
"Well, my good friend," returned the abbé, in a tone that indicated utter indifference on his part, "you are at liberty, either to speak or be silent, just as you please; for my own part, I respect your scruples and admire your sentiments; so let the matter end. I shall do my duty as conscientiously as I can, and fulfil my promise to the dying man. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond." So saying, the abbé again draw the small box from his pocket, opened it, and contrived to hold it in such a light, that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the dazzled gaze of Caderousse. 
"Wife, wife!" cried he in a hoarse voice, "come here!" 
"Diamond!" exclaimed La Carconte, rising and descending to the chamber with a tolerably firm step; "what diamond are you talking about?" 
"Why, did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse. "It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantès, to be sold, and the money divided between his father, Mercédès, his betrothed bride, Fernand, Danglars, and myself. The jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs." 
"Oh, what a magnificent jewel!" cried the astonished woman. 
"The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us then, does it not?" asked Caderousse. 
"It does," replied the abbé; "with the addition of an equal division of that part intended for the elder Dantès, which I believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four survivors." 
"And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse. 
"As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and devoted to him." 
"I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you," murmured the wife in her turn, in a low, muttering voice. 
"Of course not!" rejoined Caderousse quickly; "no more do I, and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just now. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation to reward treachery, perhaps crime." 
"Remember," answered the abbé calmly, as he replaced the jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock, "it is your fault, not mine, that I do so. You will have the goodness to furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars, in order that I may execute Edmond's last wishes." The agitation of Caderousse became extreme, and large drops of perspiration rolled from his heated brow. As he saw the abbé rise from his seat and go towards the door, as though to ascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed to continue his journey, Caderousse and his wife exchanged looks of deep meaning. 
"There, you see, wife," said the former, "this splendid diamond might all be ours, if we chose!" 
"Do you believe it?" 
"Why, surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive us!" 
"Well," replied La Carconte, "do as you like. For my part, I wash my hands of the affair." So saying, she once more climbed the staircase leading to her chamber, her body convulsed with chills, and her teeth rattling in her head, in spite of the intense heat of the weather. Arrived at the top stair, she turned round, and called out, in a warning tone, to her husband, "Gaspard, consider well what you are about to do!" 
"I have both reflected and decided," answered he. La Carconte then entered her chamber, the flooring of which creaked beneath her heavy, uncertain tread, as she proceeded towards her arm-chair, into which she fell as though exhausted. 
"Well," asked the abbé, as he returned to the apartment below, "what have you made up your mind to do?" 
"To tell you all I know," was the reply. 
"I certainly think you act wisely in so doing," said the priest. "Not because I have the least desire to learn anything you may please to conceal from me, but simply that if, through your assistance, I could distribute the legacy according to the wishes of the testator, why, so much the better, that is all." 
"I hope it may be so," replied Caderousse, his face flushed with cupidity. 
"I am all attention," said the abbé. 
"Stop a minute," answered Caderousse; "we might be interrupted in the most interesting part of my story, which would be a pity; and it is as well that your visit hither should be made known only to ourselves." With these words he went stealthily to the door, which he closed, and, by way of still greater precaution, bolted and barred it, as he was accustomed to do at night. During this time the abbé had chosen his place for listening at his ease. He removed his seat into a corner of the room, where he himself would be in deep shadow, while the light would be fully thrown on the narrator; then, with head bent down and hands clasped, or rather clinched together, he prepared to give his whole attention to Caderousse, who seated himself on the little stool, exactly opposite to him. 
"Remember, this is no affair of mine," said the trembling voice of La Carconte, as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below. 
"Enough, enough!" replied Caderousse; "say no more about it; I will take all the consequences upon myself." And he began his story.  
我们的读者当中，凡是曾徒步周游过法国南部的，或许曾注意到，在布揆尔镇和比里加答村之间，有一家路边小客栈，门口挂着一块铁，在风中摆来摆去，叮咛作响，上面隐约可看出杜加桥三个字。这家小客栈，从罗纳河那个方向望去是位于路的左边，背靠着河。和小客栈相接连的，有朗格多克一带被称之为“花园的一小块地”从正对着它的杜加桥客栈的大门（旅客们就是从这里被请进来享受客栈主人的殷勤款待的）可以后到花园的全景。在这片土地上，即这个花园里，北纬三十度的灼热的阳光的猛晒之下，有几棵无精打采的橄榄树和发育不健全的无花果树，它们那萎谢的叶子上盖满了灰尘。在这些病态的矮树之间，还长着一些大蒜，蕃茄和大葱，另外还有一棵高大的松树，孤零零地，象一个被遗忘了的哨兵，伸着它那忧郁的头，盘曲的丫枝和枝头扇形的簇叶，周身被催人衰老的西北风（这是天罚）吹得枯干龟裂。 
周围是一片平地，说是实地，其实是一块污浊的泥沼，上面零散地长着一些可怜的麦茎。这，无疑的是当地农艺家的好奇心所造成的结果，想看看在这些干热的地区究竟能不能种植五谷。但这些麦茎，却方便了无数的蝉娘，它们随着那些不幸的拓荒者一同来到这片荒地上，经过百拆不挠的奋斗以后，在这些发育不健全的园艺标本间定居下来，用它们那单调刺耳的叫声追逐着来到这里的。 
八年来，这家小客栈一直由一对夫妇经营着，本来还有两个佣人：一个叫德蕾妮蒂；另一个叫巴卡，负责管理马厩。但这项工作实在是有名无实，因为在布揆耳和阿琪摩地之间，近来开通了一条运河，运河船代替了运货马车，马拉驳船代替了驿车。运河离这家被遗弃客栈不到一百步，关于这家客栈，我们已很简略但很忠实地描写过了，这位不幸的客栈老板本来已天天愁眉不展，快要全部破产了，现在又加上这条繁荣的运河的打击，自然更增加了他的愁苦。 
客栈老板是一个年约四十多岁的人，身材高大强壮，骨胳粗大，典型的法国南部人。两眼深陷而炯炯有神，鹰钩鼻，牙齿雪白，就象一只食肉兽。虽然他已上了年纪，但他的头发，却似乎不愿变白，象他那胡须一样，茂密而卷曲，但已略微混入了几根银丝。他的肤色天生是黯黑的，加之这个可怜虫又有一个习惯，喜欢从早到晚地站在门口，眼巴巴地盼望着有一个骑马或徒步来的旅客，使他得以又一次看见客人进门时的喜悦，所以在这黑色之外，又加了一层棕褐色。而他的期待往往是失望的，但他仍旧日复一日地在那儿站着，曝晒在火一般的阳光之下，头上缠了块红手帕，象个西班牙赶骡子的人。这个人就是我们先前提到过的卡德鲁斯。他的妻子名叫码德兰·莱德儿，她却正巧和他相反，脸色苍白消瘦，面带病容。她出生在阿尔附近，那个地方素以出美女而闻名，她也虽具有当地妇女那传统的美色。但那种美丽，在阿琪摩地河与凯马琪沼泽地带附近非常流行的那种慢性寒热症的摧残之下，已逐渐减色了。她几乎总是呆在二楼上她的房间里，哆嗦着坐在椅子里，或有气无力地躺在床上，而她的丈夫则整天在门口守望着，他非常愿意干这差事，这样，他就可以躲开他老婆那没完没了的抱怨和诅咒。因为她每一看见他，就必定喋喋不休地痛骂命运，诅咒她现在这种不该受的苦境。对这些，她的丈夫总是用不变地富于哲理话平心静气地说：“别说了，卡尔贡特娘们！这些事都是上帝的安排。” 
卡尔贡特娘们这个绰号的由来，是因为她出生的村庄位于萨隆和兰比克之间，那个村庄就叫这个名字。而据卡德鲁斯所住的法国那一带地方的风俗，人们常常给每一个人一个独特而鲜明的称呼，她的丈夫之所以称她卡尔贡特娘们，或许是因为玛德兰这三个字太温柔，太优雅了，他那粗笨的舌头说不惯。他虽然装出一副安于天命的样子，但请读者别误以为这位不幸的客栈老板不清楚正是那可恶的布揆耳运河给他带来了这些痛苦，或以为他永远不会为他妻子喋喋不休的抱怨所打动，不因眼看那条可恨的运河带走了他的顾客和钱，以致他那脾气乖戾的老婆整天唠叨，抱怨不止，使自己陷入于双重痛苦而恼怒不已。象其他的南部人一样，他也是一个老成持重，欲望不高的人，但却爱好浮夸和虚荣，极喜欢出风头。在他境况顺利的那些日子里，每逢节日，国庆，或举行典礼的时候，在凑热闹的人群之中，总缺不了他和他的妻子。他穿起法国南部人每逢这种大场面时所穿的那种漂亮的衣服，就象迦太兰人和安达露西亚人所穿的那种衣服；而他的老婆则穿上那种在阿尔妇女中流行的漂亮时装炫耀，那是一种摹仿希腊和阿拉伯式的服饰。但渐渐地，表链呀，项圈呀，花色领巾呀，绣花乳褡呀，丝绒背心呀，做工精美的袜子呀，条纹扎脚套呀，以及鞋子上的银搭扣呀，都不见了，于是，葛司柏·卡德鲁斯，既然不能再穿着以前的华丽服装外出露面了，就和他的妻子不再到这些浮华虚荣的场合去了，但每听到那些兴高采烈的欢呼声以及愉快的音乐声传到这个可怜的客栈的时候，传到这个他现在还依恋着的只能算是一个庇身之所，根本谈不上赚钱的小地方的时候，他的心里也未尝不感到嫉妒和痛苦。 
这一天，卡德鲁斯如往常一样站在门前，时而无精打采地望望一片光秃秃的草地，时而望望道路。草地上有几只鸡正在那儿啄食一些谷物或昆虫。从南到北的道路上，空无一人。他在心里正盼望能有个客人来，忽然听到了一声他妻子的尖声叫喊：让他赶快到她那儿去。他嘴里嘟哝着，很不高兴他妻子打断了他的幻想，抬脚向她楼上的房间走去。但上楼以前，他把前门大开，象是请旅客在经过的时候不要忘记它似的。 
当卡德鲁斯离开门口的时候，那条他极目凝望的道路，象中午的沙漠一样空旷和孤寂。它直挺挺地躺在那儿，象是一条无尽头的灰和沙所组成的线，两旁排列着高大枝叶稀疏的树，看来绝无动人之处，完全可以理解，任何一名旅游者只要他可以自由选择，是决不会选择在这烈日当空的时候，让自己到这个可怕的撒哈拉沙漠里来受罪的。可是，假如卡德鲁斯在他的门前多逗留几分钟的话，他就会看到一个模糊的轮廓从比里加答那个方向过来。当那个移动的目标走近的时候，他就会很容易地看出，那是一个人骑一匹马上，人与马之间，看来似乎有着很融洽的关系。那匹马是匈牙利种，一种踏着那种马所独有的安闲的快步跑来。骑马的人是一位教士，穿着一身黑衣服，戴着一顶三角帽，虽然中午的阳光很灼热，那一对人和马却以相当快的步子跑来。 
来到杜加桥客栈面前，那匹马停了下来，但究竟是它自己要停的还是骑马的人要停的却很难说。但不管是谁要停下来的，总之，那位教士从马上跳了下来，牵着马辔头，想找个地方把它系上。他利用从一扇半倒的门上突出来的门闩，把马安全地系了起来，爱抚地拍了拍它，然后从口袋里抽出了一条红色的棉纱手帕，抹了一下额头上流下来的汗。他走到门前，用铁头手杖的一端敲了三下。一听到这不平凡的声音，一只大黑狗立刻窜出来，向着这个胆敢侵犯它一向宁静的寓所的人狂吠，并带着一种固执的敌意露出了它那尖利雪白的牙齿。这时，那座通到楼上去的木头楼梯上发出一阵沉重的脚步声，小客栈的店主连连鞠躬，带着客气的微笑，出现在门口。 
“来了！”惊奇的卡德鲁斯说，“来了！别叫，马克丁！别怕，先生，它光叫，但从不咬人的。我想，在这大热天的，来一杯好酒怎么样？”说话间，卡德鲁斯这才看清了他所接待的这位旅客的相貌身份，他赶紧说，“请多多原谅，先生！我刚才没看清我有幸接待的人是谁。您想要点什么，教士先生？我听候您的吩咐。” 
教士用探询的目光注视了一会儿眼前这个人，他似乎准备把客栈老板的注意力吸引过去。但除了看到对方脸上露出的极端惊讶的神色外，别无其他表情，于是他便结束了这一幕哑剧，带着一种强烈的意大利口音问道：“我想，您是卡德鲁斯先生吧？” 
“先生说得很对，”店主回答说，这个问题甚至比刚才的沉默更使他惊奇不已，“我就是葛司柏·卡德鲁斯，愿意为您效劳。” 
“葛司柏·卡德鲁斯！”教士应声答道。“对了，这就和我要找的那个人的姓名都对上了。您以前是住在梅朗巷一间小房子的五楼上吧？” 
“是的。” 
“您过去在那儿是个裁缝吧？” 
“是的，我以前是个裁缝，后来干那一行愈来愈不行了，简直难以糊口了。而且，马赛的天气又那么热，我实在受不了啦，依我看，凡是可敬的居民都应该学我的榜样离开那个地方。说到热，您要我去拿点什么给您解渴吗？” 
“好吧，把您最好的酒拿来吧，然后我们再继续谈下去。” 
“悉听尊便，教士先生。”卡德鲁斯说道，他手头还留有几瓶卡奥尔葡萄酒，现在既然有了个主顾，当然很不希望错过这个机会，所以他急忙打开地下室的门，这扇门就在他们这个房间的地板上，这个房间，是这家客栈的客厅兼厨房。去地下室一趟来回花了五分钟，当他出来的时候，发现教士正坐在一张破长凳上，手肘撑着桌子，而马克丁对教士的敌意似乎已没有了。一反常态地坐在那里，伸着那有皮无毛的长脖子，用它那迟钝的目光热切地盯着这位奇怪的旅客的脸。 
“您就一个人吗？”来客问道。卡德鲁斯把一酒瓶和一只玻璃杯放到了他面前。 
“一个人，就一个人，”店主回答道，“或者说，跟只有一个人差不多，教士先生。因为我那可怜的老婆卧病在床，一点帮不上我的忙，可怜的东西！” 
“那么，您结婚了！”教士很感兴趣地说道，边说边环视室内简陋的家具和摆设。“唉！教士先生！”卡德鲁斯叹了一口气说，“您已经看到了，我不是个有钱人，而要在这个世界上求生存，光做一个好人是不够的。” 
教士用一种具有穿透力的目光盯着他。 
“是的，好人，我以此为自豪，”客栈老板继续说道，全经受住了教士的那种目光。“可是，”他又意味深长地点点头，继续说道，“现在可不是人人都能这样说的了。” 
“假如您所说的话是实情，那就好了，”教士说道，“因为我有充分的理由相信，善有善报，恶有恶报，总会有这么一天的。” 
“您干这一行当然可以这么说，教士先生，”卡德鲁斯说道，“您这么说自然也没错，但是，”他面带痛苦地又说道，“信不信可是人家的权利。” 
“您这样说可就错了，”教士说道，“也许我本身就可以证明这一点。” 
“您这话是什么意思？”卡德鲁斯带着惊讶的神色问道。 
“首先，我必须得证明您就是我所要找的那个人。” 
“您要什么证据？” 
“在一八一四或一八一五年的时候，您认不认识一个姓唐太斯的青年水手？” 
“唐太斯？我认不认识他？认不认识那个可怜的爱德蒙？ 
我当然认识，我想没错。他是我最好的一个朋友。”卡德鲁斯大声说道，他的脸涨红了，而那问话者明亮镇定的眼光似乎更加深了这种色彩。 
“您提醒了我，”教士说道，“我向您问起的那个年轻人，好象是名叫爱德蒙是不是？” 
“好象是名叫！”卡德鲁斯重复了一遍这几个字，愈来愈紧张和兴奋了。“他就是叫那个名字，正如我就是叫葛司柏·卡德鲁斯一样。但是，教士先生，请你告诉我，我求求您，那可怜的爱德蒙他怎么样啦。您认识他吗？他还不活着吗？他自由了吗？他的境况很好，很幸福吗？” 
“他在牢里死了，死时比那些在土伦监狱里作苦工的重犯更悲惨，更无望，更心碎。” 
卡德鲁斯脸上的深红色现在变成了死灰色。他转过身去，教士看见他用那块缠在头上的红手帕的一角抹掉了一滴眼泪。 
“可怜的人！”卡德鲁斯喃喃地说道。“哦，教士先生，刚才我对您说的话，现在又得到了一个证明，那就是，善良的上帝是只给恶人以善报的。唉，”卡德鲁斯用满带法国南部色彩的语言继续说道，“世道是愈变愈坏。上帝如果真的恨恶人，为什么不降下硫磺雷火，把他们烧个精光呢？” 
“如此看来，你好象是很爱这个年轻的唐太斯似的。”教士说。 
“我的确是这样，”卡德鲁斯答道，“尽管有一次，我承认，我曾嫉妒过他的好运。但我向您发誓，教士先生，从那以后，我是真心地为他的不幸而感到难过。” 
房间是暂时沉默了一会儿。教士那锐利的目光不断地探寻着客栈老板那容易变化的脸部表情。 
“那可以，您认识那可怜的孩子？”卡德鲁斯问道。 
“他临死的时候，我曾被召到他的床边，给他作宗教上的安慰。” 
“他是怎么死的？”卡德鲁斯用一种哽咽的声音问道。 
“一个三十岁的人死在牢里，不是被折磨死的，还能怎么死呢？” 
卡德鲁斯抹了一下额头上聚结起来的大滴汗珠。 
“但非常奇怪的地是”教士继续说道，“甚至在他临终的时候，在他已吻到基督的脚的时候，唐太斯仍以基督的名义发誓，说他并不知道自己入狱的真正原因。” 
“这是真的，这是真的！”卡德鲁斯喃喃地说道，“他是不会知道的。唉，教士先生，那个可怜的人告诉您的是真话。” 
“他求我设法解开这个他自己始终无法解开的谜，并求我替他的过去恢复名誉，假如他过去真的被诬陷的话。”说到这里，教士的目光愈来愈垫定了，他认真地研究卡德鲁斯脸上那种近乎忧郁的表情。 
“有一位患难之交，”教士继续说道，“是一个英国富翁，在第二次王朝复辟的时候，就从狱中被放了出来。这位英国富翁有一颗很值钱的钻石，在出狱的时候，他把这颗钻石送给了唐太斯，作为一种感谢的纪念，以报答他兄弟般的照顾，因为有一次他生了重病，唐太斯曾尽心看护过他。唐太斯没有用这颗钻石去贿赂狱卒，因为，如果他这样做了，狱卒很可能会拿了钻石以后又到堡长面前去出卖他，于是他把它小心地藏了起来，以备他一旦出狱，还可以靠它过活，因为他只需卖掉那粒钻石，就可以发财。” 
“那么，我想，”卡德鲁斯带着热切的神色问道，“那是一颗很值钱的钻石罗？” 
“一切都是相对而言，”教士答道，“对于爱德蒙来说，那颗钻石当然是很值钱的。据估计，它大概值五万法郎。” 
“天哪！”卡德鲁斯喊道，“多大的一笔数目啊！五万法郎！ 
它一定大得象一颗胡桃！” 
“不，”教士答道，“并没有那么大。不过您可以自己来判断，我把它带来了。” 
卡德鲁斯尖利的目光立刻射向教士的衣服，象要透过衣服发现那宝物似的。教士不慌不忙地从他的口袋里摸出了一只黑鲛皮小盒子，打开盒子，在卡德鲁斯那惊喜的两眼面前露出一颗精工镶嵌在一只戒指上的光彩夺目的宝石。“这颗钻石，”卡德鲁斯喊道，他热切地紧盯着它，几乎喘不过气来了，“您说值五万法郎吗？” 
“是的，还不算托子，那也是很值钱的。”教士一面回答，一面把盒子盖上，放回到他口袋里去了，但那钻石灿烂的光芒似乎仍旧还在望得出神的客栈老板的眼前跳跃着。 
“这颗钻石怎么会到您手里的呢，教士先生？难道爱德蒙让您做他的继承人了吗？” 
“不，我只是他的遗嘱执行人而已。在他临终的时候，那不幸的年轻人对我说，‘除了和我订婚的那位姑娘以外，我以前还有三个好朋友。我相信，对于我的死，他们都会真心哀痛的。 
我所指的三位朋友，其中有一个叫卡德鲁斯’。” 
客栈老板打了一个寒颤。 
“‘另外一个，’”教士似乎没有注意到卡德鲁斯的情绪变化，继续说道，“‘叫腾格拉尔；而那第三个，虽然是我的情敌，却也是非常诚意地爱我的。’”卡德鲁斯的脸上现出了一个阴沉的微笑，他想插话进来，但教士摆了摆手，说，“先让我把话说完了，然后假如您有什么意见的话，那时再说好了。‘我的第三个朋友，虽然是我的情敌，却也是非常爱我的，他的名字叫做弗尔南多，我的未婚妻是叫——’等一等，等一等，”教士继续说道，“我忘记他叫她什么名字了。” 
“美塞苔丝。”卡德鲁斯急切地说。 
“不错，”教士轻轻叹了口气继续说道，“是美塞苔丝。” 
“说下去呀。”卡德鲁斯催促说。 
“请给我拿一瓶水来。”教士说道。 
卡德鲁斯急忙完成了客人的吩咐。教士在杯子里倒了一些水，慢慢地喝完了它，又恢复了他往常那种沉着的态度，一面把他的空杯子放到桌子上，一面说：“我们刚才说到什么地方了？” 
“爱德蒙的未婚妻叫美塞苔丝。” 
“一点不错。‘你到马赛去，’唐太斯这样说，你懂吗？” 
“完全懂得。” 
“‘把这颗钻石卖了，然后把钱平分成五份，世界上仅有这几个人爱我，请你每人送他们一份。’” 
“为什么分成五份呢？”卡德鲁斯问，“您才提到了四个人呀。” 
“因为我听说那第五个人已经死了。第五个分享者是他的父亲。” 
“唉，是啊！”卡德鲁斯失声说道，各种情感在他的内心里交战着，几乎使他窒息，“可怜的老人是死了。” 
“这些我都是在马赛听说的，”教士竭力装出满不在乎的样子回答说，“老唐太斯死后，又过了这么多年，所以有关他临终时的详细情形我却探听不到。您知不知道那位老人最后那些日子是怎么过的？” 
“哦！”卡德鲁斯说道，“谁还能比我知道得更清楚了，我可以说就和那可怜的老人同住在一层楼上。啊，是的！他的儿子失踪还不到一年，那可怜的老人就死了。” 
“他是得了什么病死的？” 
“哦，医生说他得了肠胃炎。但熟悉他的人都说他是忧伤而死的。而我，我几乎是看着他死的，我说他死于——” 
“死于什么？”教士急切地问。 
“死于饥饿。” 
“饿死的！”教士从座位一跃而起，大声叫道。“什么，最卑贱的畜生也不该饿死。即使那些在街上四处游荡，无家可归的狗也会遇到一只怜悯的手投给它们一口面包的，一个人，一个基督徒，竟会让他饿死，而他周围又都是些自称为基督徒的人！不可能，噢，这太不可能了！” 
“我所说的可都是实话。”卡德鲁斯答道。 
“你错啦，”楼梯口有一个声音说道，“你何必要管跟与你无关的事呢？” 
两个人转过头去看到了一脸病容的卡尔贡特娘们斜靠在楼梯的栏杆上。她因为被谈话的声音所吸引，所以有气无力地把她自己拖下了楼梯，坐在最下面的楼梯上，把刚才的谈话都听去了。 
“关你什么事，老婆？”卡德鲁斯答道。“这位先生向我打听消息，就一般礼貌而言，我是不该拒绝的。” 
“不错，要是谨慎你该拒绝。你知道那个人叫你讲这些话是何用意呢，傻瓜？” 
“我向您保让，夫人，”教士说道，“我绝无任何想伤害您或您丈夫的用意。您的丈夫只要能如实回答我，他是什么都不必怕的。” 
“什么都不用怕，是的！一开始总是许愿得挺漂亮，接着又说‘什么都不怕’然后，你就走了，把你所说的话都忘记了，等那倒霉的日子来了，祸事就落到了可怜虫的头上，他们甚至还不知道这祸事是从哪儿来的呢。” 
“好心的太太，您尽可以放心，祸事决不会因我而降临到你们身上的，我向您保证。” 
卡尔贡特娘们又嘟哝了几句别人听不清的话，然后，她又把头垂了下去，由于发烧而在不住地发抖，那两个谈话人重新拾起话头。她刚坐在那儿，听着他们所说的每一个字。教士不得不又喝下了一口水，以镇定他的情绪。当他已充分恢复常态的时候，他说道，“那么，您所说的那个可怜的老人既然是那样死去的，一定是其周围的人所抛弃的了？” 
“他倒并没有完全被人抛弃，”卡德鲁斯答道，“那个迦太罗尼亚人美塞苔丝和莫雷尔先生待他都非常好，但那可怜的老人不知怎么极厌恶弗尔南多那个人，”卡德鲁斯带着一个苦笑又说道，“就是您刚才称为唐太斯的忠实而亲爱的朋友之一的那个家伙。” 
“难道他不是这样的吗？”教士问道。 
“葛司柏！葛司柏！”坐在楼梯上的妇人低声埋怨地说，“你想说什么心里可有点数！” 
卡德鲁斯显然很不高兴被人打断讲话，所以他对那女人不予理睬，只是对教士说，“一个人想把别人的老婆夺为己有，还能称为对他朋友忠实吗？唐太斯，他有一颗金子般的心，只要人家自称和他要好，他就会相信。可怜的爱德蒙！但他幸亏始终不曾发觉，否则，在临终的时候要宽恕他们，可太难了。而不管别人怎么说，”卡德鲁斯用他那种充满庸俗的诗意的乡谈继续说道。“我却总觉得死人的诅咒比活人的仇恨更可怕些。” 
“傻瓜！”卡尔贡特娘们大声说道。 
“那么，您是知道弗尔南多怎么害唐太斯的了？”教士问卡德鲁斯。 
“我？谁也不如我知道得更清楚啦。” 
“那就说吧！” 
“葛司柏！”卡尔贡特娘们又大声的叫道，“随你的便吧，你是一家之主，但假如你听我话，就什么也不要说。” 
“好吧，好吧，老婆，”卡德鲁斯回答，“我相信你是对的。我听从你的劝告。” 
“那么您决定不把您刚才要讲的事情讲出来了吗？”教士问道。 
“唉，讲出来又有什么用呢？”卡德鲁斯问。“假如那个可怜的孩子还活着，亲自来求我，我会坦白地告诉他的，谁是他真正的朋友，谁是他的敌人，那时或许我倒不会犹豫。但您告诉我，他已经不在了，他已不再能怀恨或复仇了，所以还是让这一切善与恶都与他一起埋葬了吧。” 
“那么您愿意，”教士说道，“我把那本来预备用来报答忠实的友谊的东西，给你所说的那些虚伪和可耻的人吗？” 
“这倒也是，”卡德鲁斯答道，“您说得对，而且可怜的爱德蒙的遗产，现在对于他们还算得了什么呢？不过是沧海一粟罢了。” 
“你也不想想看，”那女人说道，“那两个人只要动一动手指头，就可以把你压得粉碎的。” 
“怎么会呢？”教士问道。“难道这些人竟会这样有钱有势吗？” 
“您不了解他们的身世吗？” 
“不了解。请你讲给我听听！” 
卡德鲁斯想了一下，然后说，“不，真的，说来话可太长了。” 
“好，我的好朋友，”教士回答说，语气间显示出这件事和他毫无关系，“讲与不讲是您的自由，尽可随便。我尊敬您处事的谨慎态度，这件事就算了吧。我只能凭良心尽我的责任了，去履行我对一个临终的人所许下的诺言。首先要做的就是处理这颗钻石。”说着，教士又从他的口袋里摸出了那只小盒子，打开盒子，让钻石灿烂的光芒直射到卡德鲁斯眼前，使他看得眼花缭乱。 
“老婆，老婆！”他喊道，他的声音被紧张的情绪几乎弄得嘶哑了，“快来看这颗值钱的钻石呀！” 
“钻石！”卡尔贡特娘们一面喊，一面站起身来，用一种相当坚定的步伐走下楼梯来，“你说的是什么钻石？” 
“咦，我们说的话你难道没听到吗？”卡德鲁斯问。“这颗钻石是可怜的爱德蒙·唐太斯遗留下来的，要把它卖了，把钱平分给他父亲，他的未婚妻美茜苔丝，弗尔南多，腾格拉尔和我。 
这颗钻石至少值五万法郎呢。” 
“噢，多漂亮的一颗钻石啊！”那女人喊道。 
“那么，这颗钻石所卖得的钱，五份之一是属于我们的了，是不是？”卡德鲁斯问，一面仍用他的眼睛贪婪地注视着那闪闪发光的钻石。 
“是的，”教士答道，“另外还有本来预备给老唐太斯的那一份，我想，我可以自由作主，平均分配给还活着的四人。” 
“为什么要分给我们四个人呢？”卡德鲁斯问。 
“因为你们是爱德蒙的好朋友啊。” 
“那些出卖你，使你倾家荡产的人，我才不会把他们叫做朋友呢。”那女人自言自语地低声说道。 
“当然不，”卡德鲁斯立刻接上来说，“我也不会。我刚才对这位先生所说的就是这一点，我说，我认为对背信弃义，甚至对罪恶反而加以酬报，是一种污渎神灵的行为。” 
“要记住，”教士一面回答，一面把宝石连盒子一起都放进了他的衣服口袋里，“我这样去做，可是您的错，不关我事。请您告诉我爱德蒙那几位朋友的地址，以便我执行他临终时的嘱托。” 
卡德鲁斯真是紧张到了极点，大滴的汗珠从他的额头上滚了下来。当他看到站起身来，走向门口，象是去看看他的马究竟有没有恢复体力使他能够继续上路的时候，卡德鲁斯和他的老婆互相交换了一个意味深长的眼色。 
“这颗漂亮的钻石可能完全归我们。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“你相信吗？” 
“象他这种神职人员，是不会骗我们的！” 
“好吧，”那女人回答说，“你爱怎么着就怎么着吧。至于我，这件事我可不想插手。”说着，她重新上楼到她的房间去了，浑身痛苦地抖着，虽然，天气非常热，她的牙齿却格格地打战走到楼梯顶上，她又回过头来，用一种警告的口吻对她的丈夫大声说，“葛司柏，你可要想清楚了再做呀！” 
“我已经决定了。”卡德鲁斯答道。 
卡尔贡特娘们于是走进了她的房间，当她脚步踉跄地向她的圈椅走去的时候，她房间的地板吱吱格格地叫了起来，她倒在圈椅里，象是已精疲力尽了似的。 
“你决定了什么？”教士问道。 
“把我所知道的一切都告诉您。”他回答。 
“我认为您这样做是很明智的，”教士说，“倒不是因为我要知道您想对我掩饰的事，我可丝毫没有这种意思，只是因为假如您能帮助我按照遗言人的愿望来分配遗产，嗯，那该多好。” 
“我也希望如此。”卡德鲁斯回答，他的脸上闪耀着希望和贪欲的红光。 
“现在，那么，请您开始吧，”教士说，“我在等着呢。” 
“等一下，”：卡德鲁斯答道，“说不定当我说到最有趣的那部分的时候会有人来打扰我们，那就太可惜了。而且您这次光临，应该只有我们自己知道才好。”他一面说着，一面轻手轻脚地走到门口，把门关了，为了更加小心起见，还把门闩闩上了，象他通常每天晚上所做的一样。这时，教士选了一个可以舒舒服服地听讲的位置。把他的座位搬到了房间的一个角落里，在那儿，他自己处在阴影里，而光线却可全部照射到讲话人的身上，于是，他低下头，握着手，或更确切地说，是把双手紧绞在一起，以备全神贯注地听卡德鲁斯讲说，卡德鲁斯则坐在他对面的一张小矮凳上。 
“要知道，我可并没有逼你这样做呀。”卡尔贡特娘们用颤巍巍的声音说道，她象是能穿透她房间的地板，看到楼下所进行的事似的。 
“够啦，够啦！”卡德鲁斯答道，“这件事你不必多说了。一切后果由我来负责好了。”于是他开始讲起了他的故事。 
Chapter 27 The Story
 "FIRST, SIR," said Caderousse, "you must make me a promise." 
"What is that?" inquired the abbé. 
"Why, if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you, that you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them; for the persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful, and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me, I should break to pieces like glass." 
"Make yourself easy, my friend," replied the abbé. "I am a priest, and confessions die in my breast. Recollect, our only desire is to carry out, in a fitting manner, the last wishes of our friend. Speak, then, without reserve, as without hatred; tell the truth, the whole truth; I do not know, never may know, the persons of whom you are about to speak; besides, I am an Italian, and not a Frenchman, and belong to God, and not to man, and I shall shortly retire to my convent, which I have only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man." This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage. 
"Well, then, under these circumstances," said Caderousse, "I will, I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable." 
"Begin with his father, if you please." said the abbé; "Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love." 
"The history is a sad one, sir," said Caderousse, shaking his head; "perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?" 
"Yes." answered the abbé; "Edmond related to me everything until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles." 
"At La Rèserve! Oh, yes; I can see it all before me this moment." 
"Was it not his betrothal feast?" 
"It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very sorrowful ending; a police commissary, followed by four soldiers, entered, and Dantès was arrested." 
"Yes, and up to this point I know all," said the priest. "Dantès himself only knew that which personally concerned him, for he never beheld again the five persons I have named to you, or heard mention of any one of them." 
"Well, when Dantès was arrested, Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars, and they were very sad. The old man returned alone to his home, folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes, and paced up and down his chamber the whole day, and would not go to bed at all, for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night; and for myself, I assure you I could not sleep either, for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness, and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. The next day Mercédès came to implore the protection of M. de Villefort; she did not obtain it, however, and went to visit the old man; when she saw him so miserable and heart-broken, having passed a sleepless night, and not touched food since the previous day, she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him; but the old man would not consent. 'No,' was the old man's reply, 'I will not leave this house, for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world; and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing, and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I heard all this from the window, for I was anxious that Mercédès should persuade the old man to accompany her, for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment's repose." 
"But did you not go up-stairs and try to console the poor old man?" asked the abbé. 
"Ah, sir," replied Caderousse, "we cannot console those who will not be consoled, and he was one of these; besides, I know not why, but he seemed to dislike seeing me. One night, however, I heard his sobs, and I could not resist my desire to go up to him, but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. I cannot now repeat to you, sir, all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of; it was more than piety, it was more than grief, and I, who am no canter, and hate the Jesuits, said then to myself, 'It is really well, and I am very glad that I have not any children; for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does, and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying, I should throw myself into the sea at once, for I could not bear it.'" 
"Poor father!" murmured the priest. 
"From day to day he lived on alone, and more and more solitary. M. Morrel and Mercédès came to see him, but his door was closed; and, although I was certain he was at home, he would not make any answer. One day, when, contrary to his custom, he had admitted Mercédès, and the poor girl, in spite of her own grief and despair, endeavored to console him, he said to her,--'Be assured, my dear daughter, he is dead; and instead of expecting him, it is he who is awaiting us; I am quite happy, for I am the oldest, and of course shall see him first.' However well disposed a person may be, why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow, they make one melancholy; and so at last old Dantès was left all to himself, and I only saw from time to time strangers go up to him and come down again with some bundle they tried to hide; but I guessed what these bundles were, and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his subsistence. At length the poor old fellow reached the end of all he had; he owed three quarters' rent, and they threatened to turn him out; he begged for another week, which was granted to him. I know this, because the landlord came into my apartment when he left his. For the first three days I heard him walking about as usual, but, on the fourth I heard nothing. I then resolved to go up to him at all risks. The door was closed, but I looked through the keyhole, and saw him so pale and haggard, that believing him very ill, I went and told M. Morrel and then ran on to Mercédès. They both came immediately, M. Morrel bringing a doctor, and the doctor said it was inflammation of the bowels, and ordered him a limited diet. I was there, too, and I never shall forget the old man's smile at this prescription. From that time he received all who came; he had an excuse for not eating any more; the doctor had put him on a diet." The abbé uttered a kind of groan. "The story interests you, does it not, sir?" inquired Caderousse. 
"Yes," replied the abbé, "it is very affecting." 
"Mercédès came again, and she found him so altered that she was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her own home. This was M. Morrel's wish also, who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent; but the old man resisted, and cried so that they were actually frightened. Mercédès remained, therefore, by his bedside, and M. Morrel went away, making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney-piece. But availing himself of the doctor's order, the old man would not take any sustenance; at length (after nine days of despair and fasting), the old man died, cursing those who had caused his misery, and saying to Mercédès, 'If you ever see my Edmond again, tell him I die blessing him.'" The abbé rose from his chair, made two turns round the chamber, and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. "And you believe he died"-- 
"Of hunger, sir, of hunger," said Caderousse. "I am as certain of it as that we two are Christians." 
The abbé, with a shaking hand, seized a glass of water that was standing by him half-full, swallowed it at one gulp, and then resumed his seat, with red eyes and pale cheeks. "This was, indeed, a horrid event." said he in a hoarse voice. 
"The more so, sir, as it was men's and not God's doing." 
"Tell me of those men," said the abbé, "and remember too," he added in an almost menacing tone, "you have promised to tell me everything. Tell me, therefore, who are these men who killed the son with despair, and the father with famine?" 
"Two men jealous of him, sir; one from love, and the other from ambition,--Fernand and Danglars." 
"How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on." 
"They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent." 
"Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?" 
"Both, sir; one with a letter, and the other put it in the post." 
"And where was this letter written?" 
"At La Rèserve, the day before the betrothal feast." 
"'Twas so, then--'twas so, then," murmured the abbé. "Oh, Faria, Faria, how well did you judge men and things!" 
"What did you please to say, sir?" asked Caderousse. 
"Nothing, nothing," replied the priest; "go on." 
"It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand, that his writing might not be recognized, and Fernand who put it in the post." 
"But," exclaimed the abbé suddenly, "you were there yourself." 
"I!" said Caderousse, astonished; "who told you I was there?" 
The abbé saw he had overshot the mark, and he added quickly,--"No one; but in order to have known everything so well, you must have been an eye-witness." 
"True, true!" said Caderousse in a choking voice, "I was there." 
"And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the abbé; "if not, you were an accomplice." 
"Sir," replied Caderousse, "they had made me drink to such an excess that I nearly lost all perception. I had only an indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. I said all that a man in such a state could say; but they both assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on, and perfectly harmless." 
"Next day--next day, sir, you must have seen plain enough what they had been doing, yet you said nothing, though you were present when Dantès was arrested." 
"Yes, sir, I was there, and very anxious to speak; but Danglars restrained me. 'If he should really be guilty,' said he, 'and did really put in to the Island of Elba; if he is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon him, those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices.' I confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics then were, and I held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, but it was not criminal." 
"I understand--you allowed matters to take their course, that was all." 
"Yes, sir," answered Caderousse; "and remorse preys on me night and day. I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, because this action, the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is no doubt the cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she complains, 'Hold your tongue, woman; it is the will of God.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. 
"Well, sir," said the abbé, "you have spoken unreservedly; and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." 
"Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me." 
"He did not know," said the abbé. 
"But he knows it all now," interrupted Caderousse; "they say the dead know everything." There was a brief silence; the abbé rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed his seat. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. Morrel," he said; "who was he?" 
"The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantès." 
"And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the abbé. 
"The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so energetically, that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he came to see Dantès' father, and offered to receive him in his own house; and the night or two before his death, as I have already said, he left his purse on the mantelpiece, with which they paid the old man's debts, and buried him decently; and so Edmond's father died, as he had lived, without doing harm to any one. I have the purse still by me--a large one, made of red silk." 
"And," asked the abbé, "is M. Morrel still alive?" 
"Yes," replied Caderousse. 
"In that case," replied the abbé, "he should be rich, happy." 
Caderousse smiled bitterly. "Yes, happy as myself," said he. 
"What! M. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbé. 
"He is reduced almost to the last extremity--nay, he is almost at the point of dishonor." 
"How?" 
"Yes," continued Caderousse, "so it is; after five and twenty years of labor, after having acquired a most honorable name in the trade of Marseilles, M. Morrel is utterly ruined; he has lost five ships in two years, has suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses, and his only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantès commanded, and which is expected from the Indies with a cargo of cochineal and indigo. If this ship founders, like the others, he is a ruined man." 
"And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the abbé. 
"Yes, he has a wife, who through everything has behaved like an angel; he has a daughter, who was about to marry the man she loved, but whose family now will not allow him to wed the daughter of a ruined man; he has, besides, a son, a lieutenant in the army; and, as you may suppose, all this, instead of lessening, only augments his sorrows. If he were alone in the world he would blow out his brains, and there would be an end." 
"Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. 
"And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue, sir," added Caderousse. "You see, I, who never did a bad action but that I have told you of--am in destitution, with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes, and I unable to do anything in the world for her; I shall die of hunger, as old Dantès did, while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth." 
"How is that?" 
"Because their deeds have brought them good fortune, while honest men have been reduced to misery." 
"What has become of Danglars, the instigator, and therefore the most guilty?" 
"What has become of him? Why, he left Marseilles, and was taken, on the recommendation of M. Morrel, who did not know his crime, as cashier into a Spanish bank. During the war with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French army, and made a fortune; then with that money he speculated in the funds, and trebled or quadrupled his capital; and, having first married his banker's daughter, who left him a widower, he has married a second time, a widow, a Madame de Nargonne, daughter of M. de Servieux, the king's chamberlain, who is in high favor at court. He is a millionaire, and they have made him a baron, and now he is the Baron Danglars, with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont-Blanc, with ten horses in his stables, six footmen in his ante-chamber, and I know not how many millions in his strongbox." 
"Ah!" said the abbé, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy." 
"Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is the secret known but to one's self and the walls--walls have ears but no tongue; but if a large fortune produces happiness, Danglars is happy." 
"And Fernand?" 
"Fernand? Why, much the same story." 
"But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy, without education or resources, make a fortune? I confess this staggers me." 
"And it has staggered everybody. There must have been in his life some strange secret that no one knows." 
"But, then, by what visible steps has he attained this high fortune or high position?" 
"Both, sir--he has both fortune and position--both." 
"This must be impossible!" 
"It would seem so; but listen, and you will understand. Some days before the return of the emperor, Fernand was drafted. The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans, but Napoleon returned, a special levy was made, and Fernand was compelled to join. I went too; but as I was older than Fernand, and had just married my poor wife, I was only sent to the coast. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop, went to the frontier with his regiment, and was at the battle of Ligny. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the enemy. That same night the general was to go over to the English. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him; Fernand agreed to do so, deserted his post, and followed the general. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon had remained on the throne, but his action was rewarded by the Bourbons. He returned to France with the epaulet of sub-lieutenant, and as the protection of the general, who is in the highest favor, was accorded to him, he was a captain in 1823, during the Spanish war--that is to say, at the time when Danglars made his early speculations. Fernand was a Spaniard, and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling of his fellow-countrymen, found Danglars there, got on very intimate terms with him, won over the support of the royalists at the capital and in the provinces, received promises and made pledges on his own part, guided his regiment by paths known to himself alone through the mountain gorges which were held by the royalists, and, in fact, rendered such services in this brief campaign that, after the taking of Trocadero, he was made colonel, and received the title of count and the cross of an officer of the Legion of Honor." 
"Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbé. 
"Yes, but listen: this was not all. The war with Spain being ended, Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. Greece only had risen against Turkey, and had begun her war of independence; all eyes were turned towards Athens--it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks. The French government, without protecting them openly, as you know, gave countenance to volunteer assistance. Fernand sought and obtained leave to go and serve in Greece, still having his name kept on the army roll. Some time after, it was stated that the Comte de Morcerf (this was the name he bore) had entered the service of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructor-general. Ali Pasha was killed, as you know, but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum, with which he returned to France, when he was gazetted lieutenant-general." 
"So that now?"--inquired the abbé. 
"So that now," continued Caderousse, "he owns a magnificent house--No. 27, Rue du Helder, Paris." The abbé opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then, making an effort at self-control, he said, "And Mercédès--they tell me that she has disappeared?" 
"Disappeared," said Caderousse, "yes, as the sun disappears, to rise the next day with still more splendor." 
"Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbé, with an ironical smile. 
"Mercédès is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris," replied Caderousse. 
"Go on," said the abbé; "it seems as if I were listening to the story of a dream. But I have seen things so extraordinary, that what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise might." 
"Mercédès was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M. de Villefort, her devotion to the elder Dantès. In the midst of her despair, a new affliction overtook her. This was the departure of Fernand--of Fernand, whose crime she did not know, and whom she regarded as her brother. Fernand went, and Mercédès remained alone. Three months passed and still she wept--no news of Edmond, no news of Fernand, no companionship save that of an old man who was dying with despair. One evening, after a day of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles from the Catalans, she returned to her home more depressed than ever. Suddenly she heard a step she knew, turned anxiously around, the door opened, and Fernand, dressed in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant, stood before her. It was not the one she wished for most, but it seemed as if a part of her past life had returned to her. Mercédès seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for love, but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world, and seeing at last a friend, after long hours of solitary sorrow. And then, it must be confessed, Fernand had never been hated--he was only not precisely loved. Another possessed all Mercédès' heart; that other was absent, had disappeared, perhaps was dead. At this last thought Mercédès burst into a flood of tears, and wrung her hands in agony; but the thought, which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another, came now in full force upon her mind; and then, too, old Dantès incessantly said to her, 'Our Edmond is dead; if he were not, he would return to us.' The old man died, as I have told you; had he lived, Mercédès, perchance, had not become the wife of another, for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. Fernand saw this, and when he learned of the old man's death he returned. He was now a lieutenant. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercédès; at the second he reminded her that he loved her. Mercédès begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond." 
"So that," said the abbé, with a bitter smile, "that makes eighteen months in all. What more could the most devoted lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of the English poet, "'Frailty, thy name is woman.'" 
"Six months afterwards," continued Caderousse, "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules." 
"The very church in which she was to have married Edmond," murmured the priest; "there was only a change of bride-grooms." 
"Well, Mercédès was married," proceeded Caderousse; "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm, she nearly fainted as she passed La Rèserve, where, eighteen months before, the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart. Fernand, more happy, but not more at his ease--for I saw at this time he was in constant dread of Edmond's return--Fernand was very anxious to get his wife away, and to depart himself. There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans, and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles." 
"Did you ever see Mercédès again?" inquired the priest. 
"Yes, during the Spanish war, at Perpignan, where Fernand had left her; she was attending to the education of her son." The abbé started. "Her son?" said he. 
"Yes," replied Caderousse, "little Albert." 
"But, then, to be able to instruct her child," continued the abbé, "she must have received an education herself. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman, beautiful but uneducated." 
"Oh," replied Caderousse, "did he know so little of his lovely betrothed? Mercédès might have been a queen, sir, if the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest and most intelligent. Fernand's fortune was already waxing great, and she developed with his growing fortune. She learned drawing, music--everything. Besides, I believe, between ourselves, she did this in order to distract her mind, that she might forget; and she only filled her head in order to alleviate the weight on her heart. But now her position in life is assured," continued Caderousse; "no doubt fortune and honors have comforted her; she is rich, a countess, and yet"--Caderousse paused. 
"And yet what?" asked the abbé. 
"Yet, I am sure, she is not happy," said Caderousse. 
"What makes you believe this?" 
"Why, when I found myself utterly destitute, I thought my old friends would, perhaps, assist me. So I went to Danglars, who would not even receive me. I called on Fernand, who sent me a hundred francs by his valet-de-chambre." 
"Then you did not see either of them?" 
"No, but Madame de Morcerf saw me." 
"How was that?" 
"As I went away a purse fell at my feet--it contained five and twenty louis; I raised my head quickly, and saw Mercédès, who at once shut the blind." 
"And M. de Villefort?" asked the abbé. 
"Oh, he never was a friend of mine, I did not know him, and I had nothing to ask of him." 
"Do you not know what became of him, and the share he had in Edmond's misfortunes?" 
"No; I only know that some time after Edmond's arrest, he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran, and soon after left Marseilles; no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest; no doubt he is as rich as Danglars, as high in station as Fernand. I only, as you see, have remained poor, wretched, and forgotten." 
"You are mistaken, my friend," replied the abbé; "God may seem sometimes to forget for a time, while his justice reposes, but there always comes a moment when he remembers--and behold--a proof!" As he spoke, the abbé took the diamond from his pocket, and giving it to Caderousse, said,--"Here, my friend, take this diamond, it is yours." 
"What, for me only?" cried Caderousse, "ah, sir, do not jest with me!" 
"This diamond was to have been shared among his friends. Edmond had one friend only, and thus it cannot be divided. Take the diamond, then, and sell it; it is worth fifty thousand francs, and I repeat my wish that this sum may suffice to release you from your wretchedness." 
"Oh, sir," said Caderousse, putting out one hand timidly, and with the other wiping away the perspiration which bedewed his brow,--"Oh, sir, do not make a jest of the happiness or despair of a man." 
"I know what happiness and what despair are, and I never make a jest of such feelings. Take it, then, but in exchange--" 
Caderousse, who touched the diamond, withdrew his hand. The abbé smiled. "In exchange," he continued, "give me the red silk purse that M. Morrel left on old Dantès' chimney-piece, and which you tell me is still in your hands." Caderousse, more and more astonished, went toward a large oaken cupboard, opened it, and gave the abbé a long purse of faded red silk, round which were two copper runners that had once been gilt. The abbé took it, and in return gave Caderousse the diamond. 
"Oh, you are a man of God, sir," cried Caderousse; "for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond, and you might have kept it." 
"Which," said the abbé to himself, "you would have done." The abbé rose, took his hat and gloves. "Well," he said, "all you have told me is perfectly true, then, and I may believe it in every particular." 
"See, sir," replied Caderousse, "in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood--here on this shelf is my wife's testament; open this book, and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. I will swear to you by my soul's salvation, my faith as a Christian, I have told everything to you as it occurred, and as the recording angel will tell it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment!" 
"'Tis well," said the abbé, convinced by his manner and tone that Caderousse spoke the truth. "'Tis well, and may this money profit you! Adieu; I go far from men who thus so bitterly injure each other." The abbé with difficulty got away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse, opened the door himself, got out and mounted his horse, once more saluted the innkeeper, who kept uttering his loud farewells, and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. When Caderousse turned around, he saw behind him La Carconte, paler and trembling more than ever. "Is, then, all that I have heard really true?" she inquired. 
"What? That he has given the diamond to us only?" inquired Caderousse, half bewildered with joy; "yes, nothing more true! See, here it is." The woman gazed at it a moment, and then said, in a gloomy voice, "Suppose it's false?" Caderousse started and turned pale. "False!" he muttered. "False! Why should that man give me a false diamond?" 
"To get your secret without paying for it, you blockhead!" 
Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of such an idea. "Oh!" he said, taking up his hat, which he placed on the red handkerchief tied round his head, "we will soon find out." 
"In what way?" 
"Why, the fair is on at Beaucaire, there are always jewellers from Paris there, and I will show it to them. Look after the house, wife, and I shall be back in two hours," and Caderousse left the house in haste, and ran rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken. "Fifty thousand francs!" muttered La Carconte when left alone; "it is a large sum of money, but it is not a fortune."  
“首先，”卡德鲁斯说，“先生，我必须请求您答应我一件事。” 
“什么事？”教士问道。 
“就是我将把详细情形讲给您听，如果您将来有利用到它的时候，您可决不能让任何人知道，是我讲出来的。因为我讲到的那些人，都有钱有势，他们只要在我身上动一根手指头，我就会粉身碎骨的。” 
“您放心好了，我的朋友，”教士答道。“我是一个教士，人们的忏悔永远只藏在我的心里。请记住，我们唯一的目的是适当地去执行我们朋友的最后的愿望。所以，说吧，别保留什么，也别意气用事，把真相讲出来，全部的真相。我不认识，也许永远不会认识您将要说到的那些人。而且，我是一个意大利人，不是法国人，是只属于上帝而不属于凡人的，我就要退隐到我的修道院里去了，我此次来只是为了来实现一个人临终时的愿望而已。” 
这最后的保证似乎使卡德鲁斯放心了一些。“好吧，既然如此，”他说，“我就老实对您说吧，我必须坦白地告诉您，那可怜的爱德蒙所深信不疑的友谊是怎么一回事。” 
“请您从他的父亲讲起吧，”教士说，“爱德蒙曾对我讲起许多有关那位老人的事，他是他最爱的人了。” 
“这件事说来令人伤心，先生，”卡德鲁斯摇摇头说，“前面的事大概您都已经知道了吧？” 
“是的，教士回答说，”直至他在马赛附近的一家酒馆里被捕时为止，这以前的一切，爱德蒙都已经讲给我听过了。 
“在瑞瑟夫酒家！噢，是的！那过去一切现在犹如在我的眼前一样。” 
“那次不是他的订婚喜宴吗？” 
“是呀，那次喜宴刚开始是那么令人高兴，但结果却是极其令人悲伤：一位警长，带着四个拿枪的走进来，唐太斯就被捕了。” 
“对，到这一点为止我都知道了，”教士说。“唐太斯本人除了他自己的遭遇外，其它一无所知，我跟您说过的那五个人，他后来再也没有见到他们，也不曾听人提起过他们。” 
“唐太斯被捕以后，莫雷尔先生就赶紧去打听消息，消息糟透了。老人独自回到家里，含着眼泪叠起他那套参加婚礼的衣服，整天地在他的房间里踱来踱去，晚上也不睡觉，我就住在他的下面，所以听到他整夜地走来走去。我也睡不着，因为那位可怜的老父亲的悲哀使我非常不安，他的脚步声每一声都传到了我的心里，就象是他的脚踏在了我的心上一样。第二天，美塞苔丝到马赛去恳求维尔福先生给予保护，结果是一无所获。于是她去看望老人。当她看到他那么伤心，那么心碎，而且知道了他从头一天起就没合过眼，吃过东西的时候，她就想请他和她一起回去，以便可以照顾他，但老人不同意。‘不’他这样回答，‘我决不离开这间屋子，我那可怜的孩子爱我胜过世界上的一切，假如他一旦出狱，他肯定首先来看我，要是我不在这儿等他，他会怎么想呢？’这些话我都是透过窗子听来的，因为我也非常希望美茜蒂丝能劝动老人跟她走，他在我头上老是走来走去的，日夜都不让我有一刻的安宁。” 
“难道您没上楼去设法劝慰一下那可怜的老人吗？”教士问道。 
“啊，先生，”卡德鲁斯答道，“那些不听劝慰的人，我们是无法劝慰他们的，他就是那种人，而且，我也不清楚为什么，他好象不大高兴看见我。可是，有一天夜里，我听到他在那儿哭泣，我再也忍不住了想上去看看他，但当我走到他门口的时候，他不哭了，在那儿祈祷了。先生，我现在无法向您复述他说的那些催人泪下的祈求的话。那简直不是虔诚或悲哀这几个字。我，我不是假虔诚的教徒，我也不喜欢那些伪教徒，我当时对自己说：‘幸亏只是孤身一个人，幸亏善良的上帝没给我儿女，假如我做了父亲，假如我也象这位可怜的老人那样遭遇到了这种伤心的事，我的记忆里或我的心里可找不到他对上帝所说的那些话，我所能做的是立刻跳进海里来逃避我的悲哀。’” 
“可怜的父亲！”教士轻声地说。 
“他一天天地独自生活着，愈来愈孤独。莫雷尔先生和美塞苔丝常来看他，但他的门总是关着的，虽然我确信他的确在家，但他就是不开门。有一天，他一反常态，竟让美塞苔丝进去了，那可怜的姑娘顾不上她自己的悲伤，竭力劝慰他。他对她说：‘相信我的话吧，我亲爱的女儿，他已经死了，现在不是我们在等他，而是他在等我们。我很快乐，因为我年纪最老，当然可以最先见到他。’再善良的人，也不会老去看那些让人见了就伤心的人。所以老唐太斯最后只剩孤零零的一个人了。不过我时常看到有陌生人到他那儿去，下来的时候，总是遮遮掩掩地挟着一包东西。我能猜到这些包里是什么。他是在一点点地卖掉他所有的东西，以便弄些钱来买吃的东西。最后那可怜的老头终于山穷水尽了。他欠下了三个季度的房租，房东威胁要赶他出去。他便恳求再宽限一个星期，房东同意了。我知道这件事，因为房东离开他的房间以后就到我的房间里来了。 
最初的三天，我听到他还是照常地来回踱步，到了第四天，我再也听不到他的声音了。于是我决心不顾一切地到他那儿去。 
门是紧闭着的，我从钥匙孔里望进去，看到他脸色苍白憔悴似乎已病得很重了。我就去告诉了莫雷尔先生，然后又跑到了美塞苔丝那儿。他们两个人立刻就来了，莫雷尔先生还带来了一个医生，医生说是肠胃炎，要他适当地禁食。当时我也在场，我永远忘不了老人在听到这个禁食的时候脸上露出的那个微笑。从那时起，他把门打开了。他这时已有借口可以不再多吃东西，因为是医生嘱咐要他这么做的。” 
教士发出了一声呻吟。 
“这个故事您很感兴趣，是吗，先生？”卡德鲁斯问道。 
“是的，”教士答道，“非常动人。” 
“美塞苔丝又来了一次，她发觉他已大大地变样了，因此就比以前更急切地希望能把他带到她自己住的地方去。莫雷尔先生也是这个想法，他很想不顾老人的反对，硬送他去，但老人就是不肯，并且嚎啕大哭起来，于是他们便不敢再坚持了。美塞苔丝就留在他的床边，莫雷尔先生只好走了，走的时候，向她示意他已把钱袋留在了壁炉架上。但老人借口遵从医生的吩咐，不肯吃任何东西。终于绝望和绝食了九天以后，死了，临死的时候他诅咒着那些使他陷于这种悲惨境地的人，并对美塞苔丝说，‘如果你能再看到我的爱德蒙，告诉他我临死还在为他祝福。’” 
教士离开椅子，站起来在房间里转了两圈，用颤抖的手紧压着他那干焦的喉咙。“您相信他是死于——” 
“饥饿，先生，是饿死的，”卡德鲁斯说。“这一点我敢肯定，就象肯定我们两个人是基督徒一样。” 
教士用一只发抖的手拿起了他身边一只半满的水杯，一口喝了下去，然后又回到了他的座位上，眼睛发红，脸色苍白，“这事实在太可怕了。”他用一种嘶哑的声音说。 
“更可怕的是，先生，这是人为而并非天意。” 
“把那些人告诉我，”教士说道，“要知道，”他用一种近乎威胁的口气继续说，“您曾答应过把一切事情都告诉我的。那么告诉我，用绝望杀死了儿子，用饥饿杀死了父亲的这些人究竟是谁？” 
“嫉妒他的两个人，先生，一个是为了爱，另外一个是由于野心，是弗尔南多和腾格拉尔。” 
“告诉我，这种嫉妒心是怎样表现出来的？” 
“他们去告密，说爱德蒙是一个拿破仑党分子。” 
“两人之中是哪一个去告密的？真正有罪的是哪一个？” 
“两者都是，先生，一个写信，另一个去投入邮筒。” 
“那封信是在哪儿写的？” 
“在瑞瑟夫酒家，就在吃喜酒的前一天。” 
“果然如此，果然如此，”教士轻声自语道。“噢，法利亚，法利亚！你对于人和事判断得多么准确呀！” 
“您在说什么，先生？”卡德鲁斯问。 
“没什么，没什么，”教士答道，“说下去吧。” 
“写告密信的是腾格拉尔，他是用左手写的，那样，他的笔迹就不会被认出来了，把它投入邮筒的是弗尔南多。” 
“这么说来，”教士突然喊道，“你自己当时也在场了？” 
教士意识到自己有点急躁了，就赶快接着说：“谁也没有告诉我，但既然您一切都知道得这样清楚，您一定是个见证人罗。” 
“不错，不错！”卡德鲁斯用一种哽咽的声音说，“我是在场。” 
“您没办法阻止这种无耻的行为吗？”教士问，“要不，您也是一个同谋犯。” 
“先生，”卡德鲁斯答道，“他们灌得我酩酊大醉，以致我的一切知觉几乎都丧失了。我对于周围所发生的事只模模糊糊地知道一些。凡是在那种状态之下的人所能说的话我都说了，但他们再三向我表示，说他们只是开个玩笑而已，完全没有恶意。” 
“第二天呢，先生，第二天，他们所做的事您一定看得很清楚，可是您却什么也没说，唐太斯被捕的时候您不是也在场吗？” 
“是的，先生，我在场，而且很想讲出来，但腾格拉尔拦住了我。’‘假如他真的有罪，’他说，‘真的在厄尔巴岛上过岸，假如他真的负责带了一封信给巴黎的拿破仑党委员会，假如他们真的在他身上搜到了这封信，那么那些帮他说话的人就将被视为是他的同谋，’我很害怕，当时的政治状况充满着隐伏的危险，所以我就闭口不讲了。这是懦怯的行为，我承认，但并不是存心犯罪。” 
“我懂了，您是听之任之，事实如此而已。” 
“是的，先生，”卡德鲁斯回答道，“每当我想起这件事，就日夜悔恨。我常常祈求上帝饶恕我，我向您发誓，我这样祈祷还有另一个理由，那就是我相信，我现在这样穷苦就是做了这件事的报应。这是我一生中惟一的一件深感自责的事情。我现在就是在为那一时的自私赎罪，所以每当卡尔贡特娘们抱怨的时候，我总是对她说，‘别说了，娘们！这是上帝的意志。’”卡德鲁斯低垂着头，表示出真心忏悔的样子。 
“嘿，先生，”教士说道，“你讲得很坦白，您这样自我遣责是会得到宽恕的。” 
“不幸的是，爱德蒙已经死了，他并没有宽恕我。” 
“他并不知这回事呀。”教士说道。 
“但是他现在知道了，”卡德鲁斯急忙说，“人们说，死人是一切都知道的。” 
房间里暂时沉默了一会儿。教士站起身来，神态肃然地踱了一圈，然后又在他的原位上坐了下来。“您曾两次提到一位莫雷尔先生，他是谁？” 
“法老号的船主，唐太斯的雇主。” 
“他在这个悲剧里扮演了怎样的一个角色？”教士问。 
“扮演了一位忠厚的长者，既勇敢，又热情。他曾不下二十次去为爱德蒙说情。当皇帝复位之后，他曾写信，请愿，力争，为他出了不少力，以致在王朝第二次复辟的时候，他几乎被人当作了拿破仑党分子而受到迫害。我已经告诉过您，他曾十多次来看望唐太斯的父亲，并提议把他接到他家里去。那天晚上，就是老唐太斯去世前的一两天，我已经说过，他还把他的钱袋留在壁炉架上，多亏了这零钱人们才能替老人偿清了债务，并象样地埋葬了他。所以爱德蒙的父亲死时和他活着的时候一样，没有使任何人受害。那只钱袋现在还在我这儿，是一只很大的红色的丝带织成的。” 
“哦，”教士问题，“莫雷尔先生还活着吗？” 
“活着。”卡德鲁斯回答。 
“既然那样，教士回答说，”他应该得到上帝的保佑，该很有钱吗，很快乐罗？”卡德鲁斯苦笑了一下。“是的，很快乐，象我一样。” 
“什么，难道莫雷尔先生不快乐吗？”教士大声说道。 
“他几乎已到了山穷水尽的地步了，不，他几乎已快名誉扫地了。” 
“怎么会糟到这种境地呢？” 
“是的，”卡德鲁斯继续说道，“是糟到了那种境地。苦干了二十一年，他在观赛商界获得了一个体面的地位，现在他却彻底完了。他在两年之中丧失了五条船，吃了三家大商行破产的倒帐，他现在惟一的希望就是那艘可怜的唐太斯曾指挥过的法老号了，希望那艘船能从印度带着洋红和靛青回来。假若这艘船也象其他那几艘一样沉没了的话。他就完全破产了。” 
“这个不幸的人有妻子儿女吗？”教士问道。 
“有的，他有一位太太，在这种种的不幸的打击下，她表现得象个圣人一样。他还有一个女儿，快要和她所爱的人结婚了，但那人的家庭现在不许他娶一个破产人家的女儿。此外，他还有一个儿子，在陆军里是名中尉。您可以想象得到，这一切，非但不能安慰他，反而更增加了他的痛苦。假如他在世界上只单身一人，他可以一枪把自己结束掉，那倒也一了百了。” 
“太可怕了！”教士不禁失声悲叹道。 
“老天就是这样来报答有德之人的，先生，”卡德鲁斯接着说。“您瞧我，我除了刚才告诉您的那件事以外，从没做过一件坏事，可是我却穷困不堪，非但眼看着我那可怜的老婆终日发高烧奄奄一息，毫无办法可以救她，就是我自己也会象老唐太斯那样饿死的，而弗尔南多和腾格拉尔却都在钱堆里打滚。” 
“那是怎么回事呢？” 
“因为他们时时走运，而那些诚实的人却处处倒霉。” 
“腾格拉尔，那个教唆犯，就是那个罪名最重的人，他怎么样了？” 
“他怎么样了？他离开马塞的时候，得了莫雷尔先生的一封推荐信，到一家西班牙银行去当出纳员，莫雷尔先生并不知道他的罪过。法国同西班牙战争期间，他受雇于法军的军粮处，发了一笔财，凭了那笔钱，他在公债上做投机生意，本钱翻了三四倍，他第一次娶的是他那家银行行长的女儿，后来老婆死了又成了光棍。第二次结婚，娶了一个寡妇，就是奈刚尼夫人，她是萨尔维欧先生的女儿，萨尔维欧先生是国王的御前大臣，在朝廷里很得宠。他现在是一位百万富翁，他们还封他做了一个男爵，他现在是腾格拉尔男爵了，在蒙勃兰克路有一座大房子，他的马厩里有十匹马，他家的前厅里有六个仆人，我也不知道他的钱箱里究竟有几千几万。” 
“啊！”教士用一种奇怪的腔调说，“他快乐吗？” 
“快乐！谁说得上呢？快乐或不快乐是一个秘密，只有自己和四面墙壁才知道，墙壁虽有耳朵，却没有舌头。要是发了大财就能得到快乐，那么腾格拉尔就算是快乐的了。” 
“那么弗尔南多呢？” 
“弗尔南多！哦，那又是另一回事了。” 
“一个可怜的迦太兰渔夫，既没有钱，也没有受过什么教育，他怎么能发财的呢？这件事的确使我感到很奇怪。” 
“人人都觉得奇怪呀。他的一生中一定有某个谁都不知道的不可思议的秘密。” 
“但表面上，他究竟是怎样一步步地爬到这种发大财或得到高官最禄的呢？” 
“两者兼而有之，先生，他是既有钱又有地位。” 
“您简直在对我编故事啦！” 
“事实如此。您且听着，一会儿就明白了。在皇帝复位之前一些日子，弗尔南多已应征入伍了。波旁王朝还是让他安安静静地住在迦太罗尼亚人村里，但拿破仑一回来，就决定举行一次紧急征兵，弗尔南多就被迫从军去了。我也去了，但因为我的年龄比弗尔南多大，而且才娶了我那可怜的老婆，所以我只被派去防守沿海一带。弗尔南多被编入了作战部队，随着他那一联队开上了前线，参加了里尼战役［在比利时，一八一五年拿破仑与英军大战于此］。那场大战结束的那天晚上，他在一位将军的门前站岗，那位将军原来私通敌军。就在那天晚上，将军要投到英军那里去。他要弗尔南多陪他去弗尔南多同意了，就离开了他的岗位，跟随将军去了。要是拿破仑继续在位，弗尔南多这样私通波旁王朝，非上军事法庭不可。他佩戴着少尉的肩章回到了法国，那位将军在朝廷里非常得宠，在将军的保护和照应之下，他在一八二三年西班牙战争期间就升为上尉，那就是说正是腾格拉尔开始做投机买卖的时候。弗尔南多原是一个西班牙人，他被派到西班牙去研究他同胞的思想动态。他到那儿后遇到了腾格拉尔，两个人打得火热，他得到了首都和各省保全党普遍的支持，他自己再三申请，得到了上司的允许，就带领他的队伍从只有他一个人知道的羊肠小道通过保王党所把守的山谷。在这样短的时间里，他竟取得了这样大的功绩，以致在攻克德罗卡弟洛以后，他就被升为上校，不仅得到了伯爵的衔头，还得到了荣誉团军官的十字章呢。” 
“这是命！这是命！”教士喃喃地说。 
“是的，但你听我往下说，还没完呢。战争结束后，整个欧洲似乎可以得到长期的和平了，而弗尔南多的升官就受了和平的阻碍。当时只有希腊起来反抗土耳其，开始她的独立战争，大家的目光都转向了雅典，一般人都同情并支持希腊人。您知道，法国政府虽没公开保护他们，却容许人民作偏袒的帮助。弗尔南多到处钻营想到希腊去服务，结果他如愿以偿，但仍在法国陆军中挂着名。不久，就听说德蒙尔瑟夫伯爵，这是他的新名字，已在阿里帕夏总督手下服务了，职位是准将。阿里总督后来被杀了，这您是知道的，但在他死之前，他留下了一笔很大的款子给弗尔南多，以酬谢他的效衷，他就带着那一大笔钱回到了法国，而他那中将的衔头也已到手了。” 
“所以现在——”教士问道。 
“所以现在，”卡德鲁斯继续说道，“他拥有一座富丽堂皇的府邸，在巴黎海尔街二十七号。” 
教士想开嘴，欲言又止，象是人们在犹豫不决时一样，然后，强自振作了一下，问道。“那么美塞苔丝呢，他们告诉我说她已经失踪了，是不是？” 
“失踪，”卡德鲁斯说，“是的，就象太阳失踪一样，不过第二天再升起来的时候却更明亮。” 
“难道她也发了一笔财吗？”教士带着一个讽刺的微笑问道。 
“美塞苔丝目前是巴黎最出风头的贵妇人之一了。”卡德鲁斯答道。 
“说下去吧，”教士说道，“看来我象是在听人说梦似的。但我曾见过许多稀奇古怪的事情，所以您所提到的那些事在我似乎没有什么惊人的了。” 
“美塞苔丝因为爱德蒙被捕，受到了打击，最初万分绝望。我已经告诉过您，她曾怎样去向维尔福先生求情，怎样想尽心照顾唐太斯的父亲。她在绝望之中，又遇到了新的困难。这就是弗尔南多的离去，对弗尔南多，她一向把他当作自己的哥哥一样看待的，她并不知道他有罪。弗尔南多走了，美塞苔丝只剩下了一个人。三个月的时光她都是在哭泣中度过的。爱德蒙没有下落，弗尔南多也没有消息，在她面前，除了一个绝望垂死的老人以外，是一无所有了。她整天坐在通马赛和迦太罗尼亚人村那两条路的十字路口上，这已成了她的习惯。有一天傍晚，她心里极其闷闷不乐地走回家去，她的爱人或她的朋友都没有从这两条路上回来，两者都杳无音讯。突然间，她听到一阵熟悉的脚步声，她热切地转过身来，门开了，弗尔南多，穿着少尉的制服，站在了她的面前。这虽不是她所哀悼的那另一个生命，但她过去的生活总算有一部分回来了。美塞苔丝情不自禁地紧紧抓住了弗尔南多的双手，他以为这是爱的表示，实际上她只是高兴在世界上已不再孤独，在长期的悲哀寂寞之后，终于又看到了一个朋友罢了。可是，我们也必须承认，弗尔南多从来没惹过她的讨厌，她只是不爱他罢啦。美塞苔丝的心已整个地被另一个人占据了，那个人已离开，已失踪，或许已经死了。每想到最后这一点，美塞苔丝总是热泪滚滚，痛苦地绞着她的双手。这个念头如万马奔腾般地在她的脑子里驰骋往来，以前，每当有人向她提到这一点的时候，她总要极力反驳，可是，连老唐太斯也不断地对她说：’我们的爱德蒙已经死了，要不，他是会回到我们这儿来的。‘我已经告诉过您，老人死了，如果他还活着，美塞苔丝或许不会成为另外一个人的老婆，因为他会责备她的不忠贞的。弗尔南多知道这一点，所以当他知道老人已死，他就回来了。他现在是一个少尉了。他第一次来，没有向美塞苔丝提及一个爱字，第二次，他提醒她，说他爱她。美塞苔丝请求再等六个月，以期待并哀悼爱德蒙。” 
“那么，”教士带着一个痛苦的微笑说道，“一共是十八个月了。即使感情最专一的情人，也不过只能如此而已了。”然后他轻声地背出了一位英国诗人的诗句：“‘Ｆｒａｉｌｔｙ，ｔｈｙｎａｍｅｉｓｗｏｍａｎ’”［引自莎士比亚的《哈默雷特》一剧中的一句台词。意为：软弱啊，你的名字是女人！”］“六个月以后，”卡德鲁斯继续说，“婚礼就在阿歌兰史教堂里举行了。” 
“正是她要和爱德蒙结婚的那个教堂，”教士喃喃地说道，“只是换了一个新郎而已。” 
  
“美塞苔丝是结婚了，”卡德鲁斯接着说，“虽然在全世界人的眼里，她在外表上看来似乎很镇定，但当经过瑞瑟夫酒家的时候，她差点晕了过去，就在那儿，十八个月以前，曾庆祝过她和另一个人的订婚，那个人，假如她敢正视自己的内心深处，是可以看到她还依旧爱着他。弗尔南多虽比较快乐，但并不很心安理得，因为我现在还觉得，他时时刻刻都怕爱德蒙回来，他极想带着他的老婆一同远走高飞。迦太罗尼亚人村所隐伏的危险和所能引起的回忆太多了，结婚以后的第八天，他们就离开了马赛。” 
“您后来有没有再见过美塞苔丝？”教士问道。 
“见过，西班牙战争期间，曾在佩皮尼昂见过她，她当时正在专心致志教育她的儿子。”教士打了个寒颤。“她的儿子？”他说道。 
“是的，”卡德鲁斯回答，“小阿尔贝。” 
“可是，既然能教育她的孩子，”教士又说道，“她一定自己也受过教育了。我听爱德蒙说，她是一个头脑简单的渔夫的女儿，人虽长得漂亮，却没受过什么教育。” 
“噢！”卡德鲁斯答道，“他对他的未婚妻竟知道得这么少吗？美塞苔丝大可做一位女王，先生，如果皇冠是戴到一位最可爱和最聪明的人的头上的话。她的财产不断地增加，她也随着财产愈来愈伟大了。她学习绘画，音乐，样样都学。而且，我相信，这句话可只是我们两个自己说说的，她所以要这样做，是为了散散心，以便忘掉往事。她之所以要丰富自己的头脑，只是为了要减轻她心上的重压。但现在一切都很明白了，”卡德鲁斯继续说道，“财产和名誉使她得到了一点安慰。她很有钱了，成了一位伯爵夫人，可是——” 
“可是什么？”教士问道。 
“可是我想她并不快乐。”卡德鲁斯说道。 
“这个结论您是怎么得来的？” 
“当我发觉自己处境非常悲惨的时候，我想，我的老朋友们或许会帮助我。于是我就到腾格拉尔那儿去，他甚至连见都不愿意见我。我又去拜访弗尔南多，他只派他的贴身仆人送了我一百法郎。” 
“那么这两个人您一个都没有见到了。” 
“没有，但是德蒙尔瑟夫人却见到了我。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“当我走出来的时候，一只钱袋落到了我的脚边，里面有二十五个路易。我急忙抬起头来，看见了美塞苔丝，她马上把百叶窗关上了。” 
“那么维尔福先生呢？”教士问道。 
“噢，他可不是我的朋友，我不认识他，我也没有什么可要求于他的。” 
“您不知道他的近况吗？他有没有从爱德蒙的不幸中得到好处？” 
“不，我只知道在逮捕他以后，过了一些时间，他就娶了圣·梅朗小姐，不久就离开马赛了。但是，毫无疑问，他一定也象那些人一样的走运。他无疑象腾格拉尔一样的有钱，象弗尔南多一样的得了高官厚禄。只有我，您看，还是这样穷，好象是被上帝所遗忘了的。” 
“您错了，我的朋友，”教士答道，“上帝也许有时会暂时照顾不到，那是当他的正义之神安息的时候，但他总有那么一刻会想起来的。这就是证明。”教士一边说，一边从他的口袋里拿出了钻石，递给了卡德鲁斯，“我的朋友，拿去这颗钻石吧，它是您的了。” 
“什么！给我一个人吗？”卡德鲁斯大声叫道。“啊！先生，您不是在跟我开玩笑吧？” 
“这颗钻石本来是要由他的朋友们分享的。可是现在看来爱德蒙只有一个朋友，所以不必再分了。拿去这颗钻石吧，然后，卖掉它。我已经说过，它可值五万法郎，我相信，这笔款子大概已够让您摆脱贫困的了。” 
“噢，先生，”卡德鲁斯怯生生地伸出了一只手，用另外那只手抹掉了他额上的汗珠，“噢，先生您可别拿一个人的快乐或失望开玩笑！” 
“我知道快乐和失望是怎么回事，我从来不拿这种感情开玩笑。拿去吧，只是，有一个交换条件—”卡德鲁斯本来已经碰到了那粒钻石，听到这句话便又缩回手来。教士微笑了一下。“有一个交换条件，”他继续说道，“请把莫雷尔先生留在老唐太斯壁炉架上的那只红丝带织成的钱袋给我，您告诉过我它还在您的手里。” 
卡德鲁斯愈来愈惊异，他走到一只橡木的大碗柜前面，打开碗柜，拿出了一只红丝带织成的钱袋给了教士，钱袋很长很大，上面有两个铜圈，从前镀过金的。教士一手接过钱袋，一手把钻石交给了卡德鲁斯。 
“噢！您简直是上帝派来的人，先生，”卡德鲁斯喊道，“因为谁都不知道爱德蒙曾把这颗钻石给了您，您完全可以自己留起来的。” 
“看来，”教士自言自语说道，“你是会这样做的。”他站起身来，拿起他的帽子和手套。“好了，”他说，“那么，您所告诉我的一切完全是实情，完全可以相信的了？” 
“看，教士先生，”卡德鲁斯回答说，“这个角落里有一个圣木的十字架，架子上是我老婆的《圣经》。请打开这本书，我可以把手按在十字架上，对着它发誓，凭我灵魂的得救，凭我一个基督徒的信仰，发誓说：我所告诉您的一切都是事实，就象人类的天使在最后审判那一天在上帝的耳边说的那样。” 
“很好。”教士从他的态度和语气上已相信了卡德鲁斯所说的确是实情，就说，“很好，希望这笔钱能有益于您！再会！我要回到我那远离互相残害的人类的地方去了。” 
教士好不容易才离开了千恩万谢并一再挽留的卡德鲁斯，他自己开门，走出店外，骑上马，又对客栈老板行了一个礼，然后就向他来时的那条路上去了，而那客栈老板则不断地大声喊着再会。当卡德鲁斯回过身来的时候，他看到身后站着卡尔贡特娘们，她的脸色比以前更白了，身体也抖得更厉害了。 
“我所听到的那些话的确都是真的吗？”她问道。 
“什么！你是说他把那颗钻石只给了我们吗？”卡德鲁斯问道，他高兴得有点糊涂了。 
“是的。” 
“再真不过了！看！就在这儿。” 
那女人对它凝视了一会儿，然后用一种沉闷的声音说：“说不定是假的呢。” 
卡德鲁斯吃了一惊，脸色立刻变白了。“假的”！他自言自语地说。“假的！那个人为什么要给我一颗假钻石呢？” 
“可以不花钱而得到你的秘密呀，你这笨蛋！” 
卡德鲁斯在这个念头的重压之下，一时弄得面无人色。 
“噢！”他一面说，一面拿起帽子，戴在他那绑着红手帕的头上，“我们不久就会知道的。” 
“怎么知道？” 
“今天是布揆耳的集市，那儿总是有从巴黎来的珠宝商，我拿给他们看看去。看好屋子，老婆，我两小时后回来。”卡德鲁斯急急忙忙地离开了家，迅速地向那个无名的客人所取的相反方向奔去。 
“五万法郎！”当卡尔贡特娘们只剩下独自一个人的时候，她自言自语地说道，“这虽是一笔数目很大的钱，但却算不上是发财。” 
Chapter 28 The Prison Register
 THE DAY AFTER that in which the scene we have just described had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and Beaucaire, a man of about thirty or two and thirty, dressed in a bright blue frock coat, nankeen trousers, and a white waistcoat, having the appearance and accent of an Englishman, presented himself before the mayor of Marseilles. "Sir," said he, "I am chief clerk of the house of Thomson & French, of Rome. We are, and have been these ten years, connected with the house of Morrel & Son, of Marseilles. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts loaned on their securities, and we are a little uneasy at reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink of ruin. I have come, therefore, express from Rome, to ask you for information." 
"Sir," replied the mayor. "I know very well that during the last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. Morrel. He has lost four or five vessels, and suffered by three or four bankruptcies; but it is not for me, although I am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs, to give any information as to the state of his finances. Ask of me, as mayor, what is my opinion of M. Morrel, and I shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree, and who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with scrupulous punctuality. This is all I can say, sir; if you wish to learn more, address yourself to M. de Boville, the inspector of prisons, No. 15, Rue de Nouailles; he has, I believe, two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands, and if there be any grounds for apprehension, as this is a greater amount than mine, you will most probably find him better informed than myself." 
The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy, made his bow and went away, proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. M. de Boville was in his private room, and the Englishman, on perceiving him, made a gesture of surprise, which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. As to M. de Boville, he was in such a state of despair, that it was evident all the faculties of his mind, absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment, did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. The Englishman, with the coolness of his nation, addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles. "Oh, sir," exclaimed M. de Boville, "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded, and you see before you a man in despair. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son; these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter, who was to be married in a fortnight, and these two hundred thousand francs were payable, half on the 15th of this month, and the other half on the 15th of next month. I had informed M. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually, and he has been here within the last half-hour to tell me that if his ship, the Pharaon, did not come into port on the 15th, he would be wholly unable to make this payment." 
"But," said the Englishman, "this looks very much like a suspension of payment." 
"It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. de Boville despairingly. 
The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment, and then said,--"From which it would appear, sir, that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?" 
"To tell you the truth, I consider it lost." 
"Well, then, I will buy it of you!" 
"You?" 
"Yes, I!" 
"But at a tremendous discount, of course?" 
"No, for two hundred thousand francs. Our house," added the Englishman with a laugh, "does not do things in that way." 
"And you will pay"-- 
"Ready money." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of bank-notes, which might have been twice the sum M. de Boville feared to lose. A ray of joy passed across M. de Boville's countenance, yet he made an effort at self-control, and said,--"Sir, I ought to tell you that, in all probability, you will not realize six per cent of this sum." 
"That's no affair of mine," replied the Englishman, "that is the affair of the house of Thomson & French, in whose name I act. They have, perhaps, some motive to serve in hastening the ruin of a rival firm. But all I know, sir, is, that I am ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your assignment of the debt. I only ask a brokerage." 
"Of course, that is perfectly just," cried M. de Boville. "The commission is usually one and a half; will you have two--three--five per cent, or even more? Whatever you say." 
"Sir," replied the Englishman, laughing, "I am like my house, and do not do such things--no, the commission I ask is quite different." 
"Name it, sir, I beg." 
"You are the inspector of prisons?" 
"I have been so these fourteen years." 
"You keep the registers of entries and departures?" 
"I do." 
"To these registers there are added notes relative to the prisoners?" 
"There are special reports on every prisoner." 
"Well, sir, I was educated at home by a poor devil of an abbé, who disappeared suddenly. I have since learned that he was confined in the Chateau d'If, and I should like to learn some particulars of his death." 
"What was his name?" 
"The Abbé Faria." 
"Oh, I recollect him perfectly," cried M. de Boville; "he was crazy." 
"So they said." 
"Oh, he was, decidedly." 
"Very possibly; but what sort of madness was it?" 
"He pretended to know of an immense treasure, and offered vast sums to the government if they would liberate him." 
"Poor devil!--and he is dead?" 
"Yes, sir, five or six months ago--last February." 
"You have a good memory, sir, to recollect dates so well." 
"I recollect this, because the poor devil's death was accompanied by a singular incident." 
"May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with an expression of curiosity, which a close observer would have been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic countenance. 
"Oh dear, yes, sir; the abbé's dungeon was forty or fifty feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries,--one of those who had contributed the most to the return of the usurper in 1815,--a very resolute and very dangerous man." 
"Indeed!" said the Englishman. 
"Yes," replied M. de Boville; "I myself had occasion to see this man in 1816 or 1817, and we could only go into his dungeon with a file of soldiers. That man made a deep impression on me; I shall never forget his countenance!" The Englishman smiled imperceptibly. 
"And you say, sir," he interposed, "that the two dungeons" -- 
"Were separated by a distance of fifty feet; but it appears that this Edmond Dantès"-- 
"This dangerous man's name was"-- 
"Edmond Dantès. It appears, sir, that this Edmond Dantès had procured tools, or made them, for they found a tunnel through which the prisoners held communication with one another." 
"This tunnel was dug, no doubt, with an intention of escape?" 
"No doubt; but unfortunately for the prisoners, the Abbé Faria had an attack of catalepsy, and died." 
"That must have cut short the projects of escape." 
"For the dead man, yes," replied M. de Boville, "but not for the survivor; on the contrary, this Dantès saw a means of accelerating his escape. He, no doubt, thought that prisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in an ordinary burial-ground, and he conveyed the dead man into his own cell, took his place in the sack in which they had sewed up the corpse, and awaited the moment of interment." 
"It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage," remarked the Englishman. 
"As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerous man; and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account." 
"How was that?" 
"How? Do you not comprehend?" 
"No." 
"The Chateau d'If has no cemetery, and they simply throw the dead into the sea, after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet." 
"Well," observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. 
"Well, they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet, and threw him into the sea." 
"Really!" exclaimed the Englishman. 
"Yes, sir," continued the inspector of prisons. "You may imagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himself flung headlong over the rocks! I should like to have seen his face at that moment." 
"That would have been difficult." 
"No matter," replied De Boville, in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs,--"no matter, I can fancy it." And he shouted with laughter. 
"So can I," said the Englishman, and he laughed too; but he laughed as the English do, "at the end of his teeth." 
"And so," continued the Englishman who first gained his composure, "he was drowned?" 
"Unquestionably." 
"So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?" 
"Precisely." 
"But some official document was drawn up as to this affair, I suppose?" inquired the Englishman. 
"Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantès' relations, if he had any, might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive." 
"So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him, they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and no mistake about it." 
"Oh, yes; and they may have the fact attested whenever they please." 
"So be it," said the Englishman. "But to return to these registers." 
"True, this story has diverted our attention from them. Excuse me." 
"Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means; it really seems to me very curious." 
"Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to the poor abbé, who really was gentleness itself." 
"Yes, you will much oblige me." 
"Go into my study here, and I will show it to you." And they both entered M. de Boville's study. Everything was here arranged in perfect order; each register had its number, each file of papers its place. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair, and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d'If, giving him all the time he desired for the examination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner, and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbé Faria; but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly, for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantès. There he found everything arranged in due order,--the accusation, examination, Morrel's petition, M. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up the accusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket; read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it; perused, too, the application dated 10th April, 1815, in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur's advice, exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleon was then on the throne) the services Dantès had rendered to the imperial cause--services which Villefort's certificates rendered indispensable. Then he saw through the whole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back by Villefort, had become, under the second restoration, a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's attorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note, placed in a bracket against his name:-- 
Edmond Dantès. 
An inveterate Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. 
To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closely watched and guarded. 
Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See note above--nothing can be done." He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel's petition, and discovered that the note in the bracket was the some writing as the certificate--that is to say, was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the note which accompanied this, the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantès' situation, but who had, from the remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. 
As we have said, the inspector, from discretion, and that he might not disturb the Abbé Faria's pupil in his researches, had seated himself in a corner, and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Rèserve, and which had the postmark, "Marseilles, 27th Feb., delivery 6 o'clock, P.M." But it must be said that if he had seen it, he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper, and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs, that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do, however irregular it might be. 
"Thanks," said the latter, closing the register with a slam, "I have all I want; now it is for me to perform my promise. Give me a simple assignment of your debt; acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash, and I will hand you over the money." He rose, gave his seat to M. de Boville, who took it without ceremony, and quickly drew up the required assignment, while the Englishman counted out the bank-notes on the other side of the desk.  
上面所描写过的那一幕发生后的第二天，一个年约三十一二岁，身穿颜色鲜艳的蓝色外套，紫花裤子，白色背心的人，来见马赛市长。看他的外表听他的口音，他是个英国人。“阁下，”他说道，“我是罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的高级职员。最近十年来，我们和马赛莫雷尔父子公司有联系。我们大约有十万法郎投资在他们那儿，我们接到报告，听说这家公司有可能破产，所以我们有点不大放心。我是罗马特地派来的，来向您打听关于这家公司的消息。” 
“阁下，”市长答道，“我知道得极其清楚，最近四五年来，灾祸似乎老跟着莫雷尔先生。他损失了四五条船，受了三四家商行倒闭的打击。虽然我也是一个一万法郎的债权人，可是关于他的经济状况，我却无法告诉您什么情况。假如您要我以市长的身份来谈谈我对于莫雷尔先生的看法，那我就该说，他是一个极其可靠的人。到目前为止，每一笔帐，他都是十分严格地按期付款的。阁下，我所能说的仅此而已。如果您想知道得更详细一些，请您自己去问监狱长波维里先生吧，他住在诺黎史街十五号。我相信，他有二十万法郎在莫雷尔的手里，假如有什么可担心的地方，他这笔钱的数目比我的大，他大概会比我知道得更清楚些。” 
英国人似乎很欣赏这番极其委婉的话，他鞠了一躬，跨着大不列颠子民所特有的那种步伐向所说的那条街道走去。波维里先生正在他的书房里，那个英国人一见到他，就做出了一种吃惊的姿态，似乎表明他并非初次见到他。但波维里先生正处在一种沮丧绝望的状态之中，他满脑子似乎都在想着眼下发生的事情，所以他的记忆力或想象力都无暇去回想往事了。 
那英国人以他的民族特有的那种冷峻态度，把他对马赛市长说过的那几句话，又大同小异地说了一遍。 
“噢，先生，”波维里先生叹道，“您的担心是有根据的，您看，您的面前就是一个绝望的人。我有二十万法郎投在莫雷尔父子公司里，这二十万法郎是我女儿的陪嫁，她再过两星期就要结婚了，这笔钱一半在这个月十五日到期，另一半在下个月十五日到期。我已经通知了莫雷尔先生，希望这些款子能按时付清。半小时以前他还到这儿告诉我，如果他的船，那艘法老号，不在十五日进港，他就完全无力偿还这笔款子。” 
“不过，”英国人说，“这看来很象是一次延期付款呀！” 
“还不如说是宣布破产吧！”波维里先生绝望地叹道。 
英国人象是思索了片刻，然后说道：“那么，先生，这笔欠款使您很担心罗？” 
“老实说，我认为这笔钱已经没指望了。” 
“好吧，那么，我来向您买过来吧。” 
“您？” 
“是的，我。” 
“但一定要大大的打一个折扣吧？” 
“不，照二十万法郎原价。我们的银行，”英国人大笑了一声，接着说，“是不做那种事情的。” 
“而您是付——” 
“现款。”英国人说着便从他的口袋里抽出了一叠钞票，那叠钞票大概有两倍于波维里先生所害怕损失的那笔数目。 
波维里先生的脸上掠过一道喜悦的光彩，可是他竟克制住了自己，说道：“先生，我应该告诉您，从各方面估计，这笔款子您最多不过只能收回百分之六。” 
“那不关我的事，”英国人回答说，“那是汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的事，我只是奉命行事。他们或许存心想加速一家敌对商行的垮台。我所知道的，先生，只是我准备把这笔款子交给您，换得您在这笔债务上签一个字。我只要求一点经手之劳。” 
“那当然是十分公道的，”波维里先生大声说道。“普通的佣金是一厘半，您可要二厘，三厘，五厘，或更多？只管请说吧！” 
“先生，”英国人大笑起来，回答说，“我象我的银行一样，是不做这种事的，不，我所要的佣金是另一种性质的。” 
“请说吧，先生，我听着呢。” 
“您是监狱长？” 
“我已经当了十四年啦。” 
“您保管着犯人入狱出狱的档案？” 
“不错。” 
“这些档案上有与犯人有关的记录罗？” 
“每个犯人都有各自的记录。” 
“好了，阁下，我是在罗马读的书，我的老师是一个苦命的神甫，他后来突然失踪了。我听说他是被关在伊夫堡的，我很想知道他临死时的详细情形。” 
“他叫什么名字？” 
“法利亚神甫。” 
“噢，他我记得很清楚，”波维里先生大声说，“他是个疯子。” 
“别人都这么说。” 
“噢，他是的，的确是的。” 
“或许很可能，但他发疯的症状是什么？” 
“他自以为有一个极大的宝藏，假如他能获得自由，他愿意献给政府一笔巨款。” 
“可怜！他死了吗？” 
“是的，先生，差不多在五六个月以前，二月份死的。” 
“你的记忆力强，先生，能把日期记得这样清楚。” 
“我之所以记得这件事，是因为那可怜虫死时还附带发生了一件稀有的怪事。” 
“我可以问问那是件什么事吗？”英国人带着一种好奇的表情问道。他那冷峻的脸上竟会现出这种表情，一个细心的观察者见了大概会很惊奇的。 
“可以，先生，离神甫的地牢四五十尺远的地方，原先有一个拿破仑党分子，是一八一五年逆贼回来时最卖力的那些分子中的一个，他是一个非常大胆，非常危险的人物。” 
“真的吗？”英国人问道。 
“是的，”波维里先生答道，“在一八一六或一八一七年的时候，我曾亲眼见过这个人，我们要到他的地牢里去时，总得带一排兵同去才行。那个人给我的印象很深。我永远忘不了他那张脸！” 
英国人作了一个不易觉察的微笑。“而您说，先生，”他说道，“那两间地牢——” 
“隔着五十尺远，但看来这个爱德蒙·唐太斯——” 
“这个危险人物的名字是叫——” 
“爱德蒙·唐太斯。看来，先生，这个爱德蒙·唐太斯是弄到了工具的，或是他自己制造的，因为他们发现了一条连通那两个犯人的地道。” 
“这条地道，无疑的，是为了想逃走才挖的罗？” 
“当然罗，不过这两个犯人运气不佳，法里亚神甫发了一场痫厥病死了。” 
“我明白了，那样就把逃走的计划打断了。” 
“对死者而言，是如此，”波维里先生答道，“但对那生者却不然。相反的，这个唐太斯却想出了一个加速他逃走的办法。 
他一定以为伊夫堡死掉的犯人是象普通人一样埋葬在坟场里的。他把死人搬到他自己的地牢里，自己假装死人钻在他们准备的口袋里，只等埋葬的时间到来。” 
“这一着很大胆，敢这样做的人是要有勇气的。”英国人说道。 
“我已经告诉过您了，先生，他原是一个非常危险的人物，幸好结果走他自己的这一个举动倒省得政府再为他操心了。” 
“这怎么讲？” 
“怎么？您不明白吗？” 
“不。” 
“伊夫堡是没有坟场的，他们在死者脚上绑一个三十六磅重的铁球，然后朝海里一扔就算了事了。” 
“哦？”英国人应了一声，象是他还不十分明白似的。 
“嗯，他们在他的脚上绑上一个三十六磅的铁球，把他扔到海里去了。” 
“真的吗？”英国人惊喊道。 
“是的，先生，”监狱长继续说道。“您可以想象得到，当那个亡命者发觉他自己笔直地坠入大海的时候，该是多么的吃惊。我倒很想看看他当时地的面部表情。” 
“那是很不容易的。” 
“没关系，”波维里先生因为已确定他那二十万法郎可以收回，所以答话极其轻松幽默，“没关系，我可以想象得出的。” 
他于是大笑起来。 
“我也想象得出，”英国人说着也大笑起来。但他的笑是一种英国人式的笑法，是从他的牙齿缝里笑出来的。“那么，”英国人先恢复了他的常态，继续问道，“他淹死了吗？” 
“这毫无疑问。” 
“那么监狱长倒把凶犯和疯犯同时摆脱掉了？” 
“一点不错。” 
“对于这件事总有某种官方文件记录吧？”英国人问。 
“有的，有的，有死亡证明书。您知道，唐太斯的亲属，假如他还有什么亲属的话，或许会有兴趣想知道他是死了还是活着。” 
“那么现在，假如他有什么遗产的话，他们就可以问心无愧地享用了。他已经死了，这不会有错吧？” 
“噢，是的。他们随时都可来看实际的证据。” 
“应该如此，”英国人说，“但话又说回到这些档案上来了。” 
“真的，这件事分散了我们的注意力。请原谅。” 
“原谅您什么，因为那个故事吗？不，在我听来，真是非常新奇的。” 
“是的，真是的。那么，先生，您想看看关于那可怜的神甫的全部文件吗？他倒真是很温和的。” 
“是的，务必请您方便一下。” 
“请到我的书房里来，我拿给您看。”于是他们走进了波维里先生的书房。这儿的一切都井井有条。每一种档案都编着号码，每一夹文件都有固定的地方。监狱长请英国人坐在一张圈椅里，把有关伊夫堡的档案和文件放到了他的面前，让他随便地去翻阅，而他自己则去坐在了一个角落里，开始读他的报纸。那英国人很容易就找到了有关法利亚神甫的记录，但监狱长讲给他听的那番话似乎使他产生了很大的兴趣，因为在阅读了第一类文件以后，他又往后翻，直到他翻到了有关爱德蒙·唐太斯的文件才停下来。他发现一切都原封不动的在那儿，那封告密信，判决书，莫雷尔的请愿书，维尔福先生的按语。他偷偷地折起那封告密书，迅速地把它放进了他的口袋里，读了一遍判决书，发觉里面并没有提到诺瓦蒂埃那个名字，还看了一遍请愿书，上面的日期是一八一五年四月十日，在这封请愿书里，莫雷尔因为听了代理检察官的劝告，所以善意地（因为那时拿破仑还在位）夸大了唐太斯对帝国的功劳，这种功劳，经维尔福的签署证明，当然是铁定的了。于是他明白是怎么一回事了。这封上呈给拿破仑的请愿书，被维尔福扣留了下来，到王朝第二次复辟的时候，在检察官的手里就变成了一件可怕的攻击他的武器。所以当他在档案里找到这张条子，在他的姓名底下有一个括弧列着他的罪名时，他也就不再显示惊奇了： 
——爱德蒙·唐太斯拿破仑党分子，曾负责协助逆贼自厄尔巴岛归来。 
应严加看守，小心戒备。 
在这几行字下面，还有另一个人的笔迹写着：“已阅，无需复议。”他把括弧下的笔迹同莫雷尔的请愿书底下签署的笔迹比较了一下，发现这两种笔迹是出自同一个人的手，也就是说，是出于维尔福的手笔。至于罪状底下的那两句按语，英国人懂得大概是某位巡察员大人加上去的，那位大员大概忽然一时对唐太斯的情况发生了兴趣，但由于我们上面所说过的那些记录，所以他虽然颇感兴趣，却也提不出什么异议。 
我们已经说过，那位监狱长，为了不打扰法利亚神甫的学生的研究工作，自己去坐在了一个角落里，在那儿读《白旗报》。他没有注意到英国人把那封腾格拉尔在瑞瑟夫酒家的凉棚底下所写的，上面兼有马赛邮局二月二十八日下午六时邮戳的告密信折起来放进了他的口袋里。但是必须说明，即使他注意到了，他也会觉得这片纸无足轻重，而他那二十万法郎才是最重要的，所以不管英国人这种行为是多么的不规矩，他也不会来反对的。 
“谢谢！”英国人“啪”的一声把档案给合上，说道，“我想知道的都已经知道了，现在该由我来履行我的诺言了。只要请您给我一张债务转让证明，上面说明已收到现款，我就把钱付给您。”他站起来，把他的位子让给了波维里先生，后者毫不谦让地坐了下来，急忙写那张对方需要的转让证明，而那英国人则在写字台的对面数钞票。 
Chapter 29 The House of Morrel & Son
 ANY ONE WHO had quitted Marseilles a few years previously, well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse, and had returned at this date, would have found a great change. Instead of that air of life, of comfort, and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment--instead of merry faces at the windows, busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors--instead of the court filled with bales of goods, re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters, one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office, but two remained. One was a young man of three or four and twenty, who was in love with M. Morrel's daughter, and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce him to withdraw; the other was an old one-eyed cashier, called "Coclès," or "Cock-eye," a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee-hive, and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not, in all probability, have replied to any one who addressed him by it. 
Coclès remained in M. Morrel's service, and a most singular change had taken place in his position; he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier, and sunk to the rank of a servant. He was, however, the same Coclès, good, patient, devoted, but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic, the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world, even against M. Morrel; and strong in the multiplication-table, which he had at his fingers' ends, no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house, Coclès was the only one unmoved. But this did not arise from a want of affection; on the contrary, from a firm conviction. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor, so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. Coclès had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their departure. Everything was as we have said, a question of arithmetic to Coclès, and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude, that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment, as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. 
Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Coclès' belief; the last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude; Coclès had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash, and the same evening he had brought them to M. Morrel, who, with a melancholy smile, threw them into an almost empty drawer, saying:-- 
"Thanks, Coclès; you are the pearl of cashiers " 
Coclès went away perfectly happy, for this eulogium of M. Morrel, himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles, flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. But since the end of the month M. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. In order to meet the payments then due; he had collected all his resources, and, fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be reduced to such an extremity, he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and a portion of his plate. By this means the end of the month was passed, but his resources were now exhausted. Credit, owing to the reports afloat, was no longer to be had; and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month, and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. de Boville, M. Morrel had, in reality, no hope but the return of the Pharaon, of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time, and which had already arrived in harbor. But this vessel which, like the Pharaon, came from Calcutta, had been in for a fortnight, while no intelligence had been received of the Pharaon. 
Such was the state of affairs when, the day after his interview with M. de Boville, the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome, presented himself at M. Morrel's. Emmanuel received him; this young man was alarmed by the appearance of every new face, for every new face might be that of a new creditor, come in anxiety to question the head of the house. The young man, wishing to spare his employer the pain of this interview, questioned the new-comer; but the stranger declared that he had nothing to say to M. Emmanuel, and that his business was with M. Morrel in person. Emmanuel sighed, and summoned Coclès. Coclès appeared, and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to M. Morrel's apartment. Coclès went first, and the stranger followed him. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen, who looked with anxiety at the stranger. 
"M. Morrel is in his room, is he not, Mademoiselle Julie?" said the cashier. 
"Yes; I think so, at least," said the young girl hesitatingly. "Go and see, Coclès, and if my father is there, announce this gentleman." 
"It will be useless to announce me, mademoiselle," returned the Englishman. "M. Morrel does not know my name; this worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome, with whom your father does business." 
The young girl turned pale and continued to descend, while the stranger and Coclès continued to mount the staircase. She entered the office where Emmanuel was, while Coclès, by the aid of a key he possessed, opened a door in the corner of a landing-place on the second staircase, conducted the stranger into an ante-chamber, opened a second door, which he closed behind him, and after having left the clerk of the house of Thomson & French alone, returned and signed to him that he could enter. The Englishman entered, and found Morrel seated at a table, turning over the formidable columns of his ledger, which contained the list of his liabilities. At the sight of the stranger, M. Morrel closed the ledger, arose, and offered a seat to the stranger; and when he had seen him seated, resumed his own chair. Fourteen years had changed the worthy merchant, who, in his thirty-sixth year at the opening of this history, was now in his fiftieth; his hair had turned white, time and sorrow had ploughed deep furrows on his brow, and his look, once so firm and penetrating, was now irresolute and wandering, as if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some particular thought or person. The Englishman looked at him with an air of curiosity, evidently mingled with interest. "Monsieur," said Morrel, whose uneasiness was increased by this examination, "you wish to speak to me?" 
"Yes, monsieur; you are aware from whom I come?" 
"The house of Thomson & French; at least, so my cashier tells me." 
"He has told you rightly. The house of Thomson & French had 300,000 or 400,000 francs to pay this month in France; and, knowing your strict punctuality, have collected all the bills bearing your signature, and charged me as they became due to present them, and to employ the money otherwise." Morrel sighed deeply, and passed his hand over his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. 
"So then, sir," said Morrel, "you hold bills of mine?" 
"Yes, and for a considerable sum." 
"What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm. 
"Here is," said the Englishman, taking a quantity of papers from his pocket, "an assignment of 200,000 francs to our house by M. de Boville, the inspector of prisons, to whom they are due. You acknowledge, of course, that you owe this sum to him?" 
"Yes; he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago." 
"When are you to pay?" 
"Half the 15th of this month, half the 15th of next." 
"Just so; and now here are 32,500 francs payable shortly; they are all signed by you, and assigned to our house by the holders." 
"I recognize them," said Morrel, whose face was suffused, as he thought that, for the first time in his life, he would be unable to honor his own signature. "Is this all?" 
"No, I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal, and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles, amounting to nearly 55,000 francs; in all, 287,500 francs." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. "Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs," repeated he. 
"Yes, sir," replied the Englishman. "I will not," continued he, after a moment's silence, "conceal from you, that while your probity and exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged, yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities." At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. "Sir," said he, "up to this time--and it is now more than four-and-twenty years since I received the direction of this house from my father, who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years--never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored." 
"I know that," replied the Englishman. "But as a man of honor should answer another, tell me fairly, shall you pay these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered, and looked at the man, who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. "To questions frankly put," said he, "a straightforward answer should be given. Yes, I shall pay, if, as I hope, my vessel arrives safely; for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents, of which I have been the victim, have deprived me; but if the Pharaon should be lost, and this last resource be gone"--the poor man's eyes filled with tears. 
"Well," said the other, "if this last resource fail you?" 
"Well," returned Morrel, "it is a cruel thing to be forced to say, but, already used to misfortune, I must habituate myself to shame. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment." 
"Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled mournfully. "In business, sir," said he, "one has no friends, only correspondents." 
"It is true," murmured the Englishman; "then you have but one hope." 
"But one." 
"The last?" 
"The last." 
"So that if this fail"-- 
"I am ruined,--completely ruined!" 
"As I was on my way here, a vessel was coming into port." 
"I know it, sir; a young man, who still adheres to my fallen fortunes, passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house, in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me; he has informed me of the arrival of this ship." 
"And it is not yours?" 
"No, she is a Bordeaux vessel, La Gironde; she comes from India also; but she is not mine." 
"Perhaps she has spoken the Pharaon, and brings you some tidings of her?" 
"Shall I tell you plainly one thing, sir? I dread almost as much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt. uncertainty is still hope." Then in a low voice Morrel added,--"This delay is not natural. The Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th February; she ought to have been here a month ago." 
"What is that?" said the Englishman. "What is the meaning of that noise?" 
"Oh, oh!" cried Morrel, turning pale, "what is it?" A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily, and half-stifled sobs. Morrel rose and advanced to the door; but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. The two men remained opposite one another, Morrel trembling in every limb, the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. The noise had ceased; but it seemed that Morrel expected something--something had occasioned the noise, and something must follow. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs; and that the footsteps, which were those of several persons, stopped at the door. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door, and the creaking of hinges was audible. 
"There are only two persons who have the key to that door," murmured Morrel, "Coclès and Julie." At this instant the second door opened, and the young girl, her eyes bathed with tears, appeared. Morrel rose tremblingly, supporting himself by the arm of the chair. He would have spoken, but his voice failed him. "Oh, father!" said she, clasping her hands, "forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings." 
Morrel again changed color. Julie threw herself into his arms. 
"Oh, father, father!" murmured she, "courage!" "The Pharaon has gone down, then?" said Morrel in a hoarse voice. The young girl did not speak; but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's breast. 
"And the crew?" asked Morrel. 
"Saved," said the girl; "saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor." Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and sublime gratitude. "Thanks, my God," said he, "at least thou strikest but me alone." A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman. 
"Come in, come in," said Morrel, "for I presume you are all at the door." 
Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly. Emmanuel followed her, and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half-naked sailors. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step; then restrained himself, and retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the apartment. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took one of his hands in hers, Julie still lay with her head on his shoulder, Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber and seemed to form the link between Morrel's family and the sailors at the door. 
"How did this happen?" said Morrel. 
"Draw nearer, Penelon," said the young man, "and tell us all about it." 
An old seaman, bronzed by the tropical sun, advanced, twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. "Good-day, M. Morrel," said he, as if he had just quitted Marseilles the previous evening, and had just returned from Aix or Toulon. 
"Good-day, Penelon," returned Morrel, who could not refrain from smiling through his tears, "where is the captain?" 
"The captain, M. Morrel,--he has stayed behind sick at Palma; but please God, it won't be much, and you will see him in a few days all alive and hearty." 
"Well, now tell your story, Penelon." 
Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek, placed his hand before his mouth, turned his head, and sent a long jet of tobacco-juice into the antechamber, advanced his foot, balanced himself, and began,--"You see, M. Morrel," said he, "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador, sailing with a fair breeze, south-south-west after a week's calm, when Captain Gaumard comes up to me--I was at the helm I should tell you--and says, 'Penelon, what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then looking at them myself. 'What do I think, captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do, and that they would not be so black if they didn't mean mischief.'--'That's my opinion too,' said the captain, 'and I'll take precautions accordingly. We are carrying too much canvas. Avast, there, all hands! Take in the studding-sl's and stow the flying jib.' It was time; the squall was on us, and the vessel began to heel. 'Ah,' said the captain, 'we have still too much canvas set; all hands lower the mains'l!' Five minutes after, it was down; and we sailed under mizzen-tops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. 'Well, Penelon,' said the captain, 'what makes you shake your head?' 'Why,' I says, 'I still think you've got too much on.' 'I think you're right,' answered he, 'we shall have a gale.' 'A gale? More than that, we shall have a tempest, or I don't know what's what.' You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon; luckily the captain understood his business. 'Take in two reefs in the tops'ls,' cried the captain; 'let go the bowlin's, haul the brace, lower the to'gall'nt sails, haul out the reef-tackles on the yards.'" 
"That was not enough for those latitudes," said the Englishman; "I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker." 
His firm, sonorous, and unexpected voice made every one start. Penelon put his hand over his eyes, and then stared at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his captain. "We did better than that, sir," said the old sailor respectfully; "we put the helm up to run before the tempest; ten minutes after we struck our tops'ls and scudded under bare poles." 
"The vessel was very old to risk that," said the Englishman. 
"Eh, it was that that did the business; after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak. 'Penelon,' said the captain, 'I think we are sinking, give me the helm, and go down into the hold.' I gave him the helm, and descended; there was already three feet of water. 'All hands to the pumps!' I shouted; but it was too late, and it seemed the more we pumped the more came in. 'Ah,' said I, after four hours' work, 'since we are sinking, let us sink; we can die but once.' 'That's the example you set, Penelon,' cries the captain; 'very well, wait a minute.' He went into his cabin and came back with a brace of pistols. 'I will blow the brains out of the first man who leaves the pump,' said he." 
"Well done!" said the Englishman. 
"There's nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons," continued the sailor; "and during that time the wind had abated, and the sea gone down, but the water kept rising; not much, only two inches an hour, but still it rose. Two inches an hour does not seem much, but in twelve hours that makes two feet, and three we had before, that makes five. 'Come,' said the captain, 'we have done all in our power, and M. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with, we have tried to save the ship, let us now save ourselves. To the boats, my lads, as quick as you can.' Now," continued Penelon, "you see, M. Morrel, a sailor is attached to his ship, but still more to his life, so we did not wait to be told twice; the more so, that the ship was sinking under us, and seemed to say, 'Get along--save yourselves.' We soon launched the boat, and all eight of us got into it. The captain descended last, or rather, he did not descend, he would not quit the vessel; so I took him round the waist, and threw him into the boat, and then I jumped after him. It was time, for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man-of-war. Ten minutes after she pitched forward, then the other way, spun round and round, and then good-by to the Pharaon. As for us, we were three days without anything to eat or drink, so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest, when we saw La Gironde; we made signals of distress, she perceived us, made for us, and took us all on board. There now, M. Morrel, that's the whole truth, on the honor of a sailor; is not it true, you fellows there?" A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings. 
"Well, well," said M. Morrel, "I know there was no one in fault but destiny. It was the will of God that this should happen, blessed be his name. What wages are due to you?" 
"Oh, don't let us talk of that, M. Morrel." 
"Yes, but we will talk of it." 
"Well, then, three months," said Penelon. 
"Coclès, pay two hundred francs to each of these good fellows," said Morrel. "At another time," added be, "I should have said, Give them, besides, two hundred francs over as a present; but times are changed, and the little money that remains to me is not my own." 
Penelon turned to his companions, and exchanged a few words with them. 
"As for that, M. Morrel," said he, again turning his quid, "as for that"-- 
"As for what?" 
"The money." 
"Well"-- 
"Well, we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present, and that we will wait for the rest." 
"Thanks, my friends, thanks!" cried Morrel gratefully; "take it--take it; and if you can find another employer, enter his service; you are free to do so." These last words produced a prodigious effect on the seaman. Penelon nearly swallowed his quid; fortunately he recovered. "What, M. Morrel!" said he in a low voice, "you send us away; you are then angry with us!" 
"No, no," said M. Morrel, "I am not angry, quite the contrary, and I do not send you away; but I have no more ships, and therefore I do not want any sailors." 
"No more ships!" returned Penelon; "well, then, you'll build some; we'll wait for you." 
"I have no money to build ships with, Penelon," said the poor owner mournfully, "so I cannot accept your kind offer." 
"No more money? Then you must not pay us; we can scud, like the Pharaon, under bare poles." 
"Enough, enough!" cried Morrel, almost overpowered; "leave me, I pray you; we shall meet again in a happier time. Emmanuel, go with them, and see that my orders are executed." 
"At least, we shall see each other again, M. Morrel?" asked Penelon. 
"Yes; I hope so, at least. Now go." He made a sign to Coclès, who went first; the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear. "Now," said the owner to his wife and daughter, "leave me; I wish to speak with this gentleman." And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French, who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene, in which he had taken no part, except the few words we have mentioned. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten, and retired; but, as she left the apartment, Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance, to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features. The two men were left alone. "Well, sir," said Morrel, sinking into a chair, "you have heard all, and I have nothing further to tell you." 
"I see," returned the Englishman, "that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you, and this only increases my desire to serve you." 
"Oh, sir!" cried Morrel. 
"Let me see," continued the stranger, "I am one of your largest creditors." 
"Your bills, at least, are the first that will fall due." 
"Do you wish for time to pay?" 
"A delay would save my honor, and consequently my life." 
"How long a delay do you wish for?"--Morrel reflected. "Two months," said he. 
"I will give you three," replied the stranger. 
"But," asked Morrel, "will the house of Thomson & French consent?" 
"Oh, I take everything on myself. To-day is the 5th of June." 
"Yes." 
"Well, renew these bills up to the 5th of September; and on the 5th of September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven), I shall come to receive the money." 
"I shall expect you," returned Morrel; "and I will pay you--or I shall he dead." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the stranger could not hear them. The bills were renewed, the old ones destroyed, and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation; and Morrel, overwhelming him with grateful blessings, conducted him to the staircase. The stranger met Julie on the stairs; she pretended to be descending, but in reality she was waiting for him. "Oh, sir"--said she, clasping her hands. 
"Mademoiselle," said the stranger, "one day you will receive a letter signed 'Sinbad the Sailor.' Do exactly what the letter bids you, however strange it may appear." 
"Yes, sir," returned Julie. 
"Do you promise?" 
"I swear to you I will." 
"It is well. Adieu, mademoiselle. Continue to be the good, sweet girl you are at present, and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a husband." 
Julie uttered a faint cry, blushed like a rose, and leaned against the baluster. The stranger waved his hand, and continued to descend. In the court he found Penelon, who, with a rouleau of a hundred francs in either hand, seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. "Come with me, my friend," said the Englishman; "I wish to speak to you."  
凡是几年以前离开马赛而又熟知莫雷尔父子公司的人，要是在现在回来，就会发觉它已大大地变了样，以前从这家兴旺发达的商行里所散发出来的那种活跃，舒适和快乐的空气；以前在窗户里看到的那些愉快的面孔，以前在那条长廊里来去匆匆的忙碌的职员；以前堆满在天井里的一包包的货物，以及搬运工们的嬉笑喊叫，这一切现在都消失了，剩下的只是一种忧郁沉闷的气氛。在那冷落的长廊和空荡荡的办公厅里，以前总是挤满了无数的职员，现在却只剩下了两个人。一个是年约二十三四岁的青年，名叫艾曼纽·赫伯特，他爱上了莫雷尔先生的女儿，尽管他的朋友们都竭力劝他辞职离开这里，但他还是留了下来；另外一个是只有一只眼睛的年老的出纳，名叫独眼柯克莱斯［阿克莱斯是古代罗马的一个英雄，在一次战斗中失去了一只眼睛，这个浑名也是由此而来。］这个绰号是以前老是挤满在这个大蜂窝（现在几乎已空无一人）里的青年人们送给他的，这个绰号已完全代替了他的真名，以致谁要是用真名来喊他，他十有八九是不会答应的。 
柯克莱斯仍然在莫雷尔先生手下工作，他的地位发生了非常奇特的变化。一方面他被提升为出纳员，而同时却又降为一个仆役。可是，他仍是那过去的柯克莱斯，善良，忠诚，不怕麻烦，但在数学问题上却绝不屈服，他在这一点上，会坚决地站起来和全世界抗争，甚至和莫雷尔先生抗争；他还善长于九九乘法表，把它背得滚瓜烂熟，不论设什么诡计圈套去考问他，总也难不倒他。在公司日趋窘困的日子，只有他一个人毫不动遥这倒并非出于某种情感，相反的是出于一种坚定的信念。据说一艘命中注定要在海洋里沉没的船，船上的老鼠会预先溜走的，临到那艘船起锚的时候，这些自私的乘客都逃得精光的，也正是象这样，莫雷尔父子公司所有这样的职员一个个的离开了办公厅和货仓。柯克莱斯只是眼看着他们离开，对于离开的原因连问也不问。我们已经说过，一切在他看来只是一个数学问题。二十年来，他看到所有付款总都是正确地如期付清，所以在他看来，如果说公司有一天竟会付不出款，似乎是不可能的，正如一个磨坊老板不能相信那一向日夜推动他的磨机的河水竟会有一天不流了一样。 
到目前为止还不曾发生过什么事可以动摇柯克莱斯的信仰。上个月的款子是如期付清了的。柯克莱斯查出了一笔有损于莫雷尔十四个苏的错账，当天晚上，他把那十四个铜板交给了莫雷尔先生，后者苦笑了一下，把钱扔进了一只几乎空空如也的抽屉里，说：“谢谢，柯克莱斯，你是出纳人员中的明珠啊！” 
柯克莱斯回去以后十分快乐，因为莫雷尔先生本身就是马赛忠厚者中的明珠，他这样夸奖他，比送给他一份五十艾居的礼还要使他高兴。但自从月底以来，莫雷尔先生曾度过了许多焦虑的日子。为了应付月底，他曾倾尽了他所有的财源。他深怕自己的窘况会在马赛传扬开去，所以到布揆耳的集市，把他妻子和女儿的珠宝卖了，还卖了他的一部分金银器皿。这样，公司的名誉才能依旧维持着。但他现在已经山穷水尽了。 
借款吧，由于社会上所传的那些消息，已借不到了。要偿付波维里先生这个月十五日到期的十万法郎和下个月十五日到期的十万，莫雷尔先生除了等待法老号回来，实在没有别的希望了。他知道法老号已启航了，那是他从一艘和它同时起锚的帆船上听来的，而那艘船却早已到港了。那艘船象法老号一样，也是从加尔各答开来的，但它早在两星期前就到达了，而法老号却至今杳无音讯。 
罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行那位高级职员在见过波维里先生的第二天去拜访莫雷尔先生的时候，这几天情况便是如此。 
接待他的是艾曼纽。这个青年人，每当他看到来人是个新面孔就要吃惊，因为每一个新面孔就是一个闻风来询问公司老板的新债主为了使他的雇主避免受这次会见的痛苦，他就问来客有何贵干。这位陌生人说，他同艾曼纽没什么可说的，他的事需和莫雷尔先生亲自面谈。艾曼纽叹了一口气，就把柯克莱斯叫了来。柯克莱斯来了，以后，青年吩咐把来客带到莫雷尔先生的房间里去。柯克莱斯走在前面，来客跟在他的后面。在楼梯上，他们遇见了一位十六七岁的美丽的姑娘，她目光焦虑地望着眼前这位陌生人。 
“莫雷尔先生在办公室里吗，尤莉小姐？”出纳员问。 
“是的，我想在吧，至少，”年轻姑娘犹豫不决地说。“你可以去看看，柯克莱斯，要是我父亲在那儿，就给这位先生通报一声。” 
“我是无需通报的，小姐，”英国人答道。“我的名字莫雷尔先生并不熟悉，这位可敬的先生只要通报说罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的首席代表求见就行了，那家银行和你父亲是有来往的。” 
青年姑娘的脸色苍白起来，她继续下楼，而陌生客和柯克莱斯则继续上楼去了。她走进了艾曼纽所在的那间办公室，而柯克莱斯则用他身上所带的一把钥匙打开了第二重楼梯拐角上的一扇门，引导那陌生客到了一间会客室里，又打开了第二道门，进去后即把门关上了，让汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的首席代表独自等候了一会儿，然后回身出来，请他进去。英国人走进房间发现莫雷尔正坐在一张桌子前面，翻阅着几本极大的账簿，里面都是他的债务。一看到来客，莫雷尔先生就合上了他的账簿，站起身来，指着一个座位请来客坐下。当他看到来客坐下以后，自己才坐回到他原来椅子上。十四年的光阴已改变了这位可敬的商人的容貌，他，在本书开头的时候是三十六岁，现在已五十岁了。他的头发已变得花白了，时光和忧愁已在他的额头上刻下了深深的皱纹，而他的目光，一度曾是那样的坚定和敏锐，现在却是踌躇而彷徨，象是他怕被迫把自己的注意力集中在一个念头或一个人身上似的。英国人用一种好奇而显然还带着关怀的神气望着他。“先生，”莫雷尔说，他的不安因这种审问似的目光而变得加剧了，“您想跟我谈谈吗？” 
“是的，先生，您明白我是从哪儿来的吧？” 
“汤姆生·弗伦奇银行，我的出纳员是这样告诉我的。” 
“他说的不错。汤姆生·弗伦奇银行本月份得在法国付出三四十万法郎的款子，知道您严守信用，所以把凡是有您签字的期票都收买了过来，叫我负责来按期收款，以便动用。”莫雷尔深深地叹了一口气，用手抹了一下他那满挂着汗珠的前额。 
“哦，那么，先生，”莫雷尔说，“您手上有我的期票了？” 
“是的，而且数目相当大。” 
“多大的数目？”莫雷尔用一种竭力镇定的声音问道。 
“在这儿，”英国人从他的口袋里拿出了一叠纸，说道，“监狱长波维里先生开给我们银行的一张二十万法郎的转让证明，那本来是他的钱。您当然清楚您是欠他这笔款子的吧？” 
“是的，他那笔钱是以四厘半的利息放在我的手里的，差不多有五年了。” 
“您该在什么时候偿还呢？” 
“一半在本月十五号，一半在下个月十五号。” 
“不错，这儿还有三万二千五百法郎是最近付款的。这上面都有您的签字，都是持票人转让给我们银行的。” 
“我认得的，”莫雷尔先生说着，他的脸涨得通红，象是想到他将在一生中第一次保不住他自己签字的尊严似的。“都在这儿了吗？” 
“不，本月底还有这些期票，是巴斯卡商行和马赛威都商行转让给我们银行的，一共大约是五万五千法郎，这样，总数是二十八万七千五百法郎。” 
在这些钱累计的时候，莫雷尔所感到的痛苦简直难以用言词来形容。“二十八万七千五百法郎！”他喃喃地重复了一遍。 
“是的，先生，”英国人答道。“我不必向您隐瞒，”他沉默了一会儿，然后继续说道，“到目前为止，您的信实守约是众所周知的，可是据马赛最近的传闻来看，恐怕您无法偿还您的债务了。” 
听到这段几乎近于残酷的话，莫雷尔的脸顿时变成了死灰色。“先生，”他说，“我从先父手里接过这家公司的经理权到现在已有二十四年多了，先父曾亲自经营了三十五年。凡是有莫雷尔父子公司签名的任何票据，还从来不曾失过信用。” 
“那我知道，”英国人回答道，“但以一个诚实人答复一个诚实人应有的态度来说，请坦白地告诉我，这些期票您到底能不能按时付清？” 
莫雷尔打了一个寒颤，望了一眼这个到刚才为止讲话尚未这样斩钉截铁的人。“问题既然提得这样直截了当，”他说，“答复也就应该直爽。是的，我可以付清的，假如，能如我希望的，我的船能安全到达的话。因为它一到，我因过去许多次意外事件而丧失的信用就又可以恢复了，但假如法老号损失了，这最后一个来源也就没有了。”那可怜的人的眼睛里盈满了泪水。 
“嗯，”对方说，“假如这最后一个来源也靠不住了呢？” 
“唉，”莫雷尔答道，“强迫我说这句话实在是太残酷了，但我是已经惯遭不幸的了，我必须把自己练成厚脸皮。那样的话，我恐怕不得不延期付款了。” 
“难道您没有朋友可以帮助您吗？” 
莫雷尔凄然地苦笑了一下。“在商界，先生，”他说，“是没有朋友，只有交易的。” 
“这倒是真的，”英国人喃喃地说，“那么您只有一个希望了？” 
“只有一个了。” 
“最后的了？” 
“那么要是这一个也耽误——” 
“我就毁了，整个地毁了！” 
“我到这儿来的时候，有一艘船正在进港。” 
“我知道，先生，有一个在我日暮途穷的时候依旧跟随着我的年轻人，每天花一部分时间守在这间屋子的阁楼上，希望能最先向我来报告好消息。这艘船的进港，他已经通知过我了。” 
“那不是您的船吗？” 
“不是，那是一条波尔多的船，是吉隆丹号。它也是从印度来的，但却不是我的。” 
“或许它曾和法老号通过话，给您带来了消息呢？” 
“我可以坦白地告诉您一件事，先生，我怕得到我那条船的任何消息，简直就同我怕陷在疑雾中一样多。不确定倒还使人抱有希望。”于是，莫雷尔又用一种低沉的声音说，“这次的逾期不归是说不通的。法老号在二月五日就离开了加尔各答，它应该在一个月以前就到这儿的。” 
“那是什么？”英国人问道，“这一片闹声是什么意思？” 
“噢，噢！”莫雷尔喊道，脸色立刻苍白，“这是什么？”楼梯上传来一片响声，是人们匆忙的奔走声和半窒息的呜咽声。莫雷尔站起身来，向门口走去，但他的气力支持不住，他倒在了一张椅子里。两个人面对面地互相望着，莫雷尔四肢在不停地发抖，那陌生人则带着一种极其怜悯的神色凝视着他。闹声止了，莫雷尔似乎已预料到了是什么事，那件事引起了闹声，而那件事是一定会到来的。那陌生人觉得他好象听到楼梯上有脚步声，那是几个人的脚步声，而那脚步声在门口停下了，一把钥匙插进了第一道门的锁眼，可以听到门上的铰链声。 
“只有两个人有那扇门的钥匙，”莫雷尔喃喃地说道，“——柯克莱斯和尤莉。”这时，第二道门开了，门口出现了那泪痕满面的年轻姑娘。莫雷尔用手撑着椅背，颤巍巍地站起来。他本来想说话，但却说不出来。“噢，父亲！”她绞着双手说，“原谅你的孩子给你带来了不好的消息。” 
莫雷尔的脸色又一次变白了。尤莉扑入他的怀里。 
“噢，噢，父亲！”她说，“您可要挺住啊！” 
“这么说，法老号沉没了？”莫雷尔问她，声音嘶哑。那年轻姑娘没有说话，只是点了点头，依旧靠在她父亲的胸前。 
“船员呢？”莫雷尔问。 
“救起来了，”姑娘说道，“是刚才进港的那条船的船员救起来的。” 
莫雷尔带着一种听天由命和崇高的感激的表情举手向天。“谢谢，我的上帝，”他说，“至少您只打击了我一个人！” 
那英国人虽然平时极不易动感情，这时却也两眼湿润了。 
“进来，进来吧！”莫雷尔说，“我料到你们都在门口。” 
不等他的话说完，莫雷尔夫人就进来了，她哭得非常伤心。艾曼纽跟在她后面。在客厅里，还有七八个衣不蔽体的水手。一看到这些人，那英国人吃了一惊，向前跨出了一步，但随后他又抑制住了自己，退到了房间最不惹人注意和最远的一个角落里了。莫雷尔夫人在她丈夫的身旁坐了下来，握住他的一只手；尤莉依旧把她的头靠在他的肩上；艾曼纽站在屋子中央，象是担当着莫雷尔一家人和门口的水手们之间的联系人的角色。 
“事情的经过是怎么样的？”莫雷尔问题。 
“过来一点，佩尼隆，”那年轻人说道，“讲讲事情的经过吧。” 
一个被热带的太阳晒成棕褐色的老水手向前走了几步，两手不住地卷着一顶残破的帽子。“您好，莫雷尔先生，”他说道，好象他是昨天晚上离开马赛，刚从埃克斯或土伦回来似的。 
“您好，佩尼隆！”莫雷尔回答，他虽然微笑着，却禁不住满眶热泪，“船长在哪儿？” 
“船长，莫雷尔先生，他生病留在帕乐马了，感谢上帝，他病得并不厉害，几天之后你就可以看到他康复回来的。” 
“很好，现在你把事情讲讲吧，佩尼拢”佩尼隆把他嘴里嚼着的烟草从右面顶到了左面，用手遮住嘴，转过头去，吐了一大口烟汁，然后叉开一只脚，开始讲了起来。“你瞧，莫雷尔先生，”他说，“我们风平浪静的航行了一星期，然后在布兰克海岬和波加达海岬之间的一段海面上乘着一阵和缓的南——西南风航行，忽然茄马特船长走到了我面前，我得告诉你，我那时正在掌舵，他说，‘佩尼隆，你看那边升起的那些云是什么意思？’我那时自己也正在看那些云。‘我看它们升得太快了，不象是没有原因的，我看那不是好兆头，否则不会那样黑。’‘我也是这么看，’船长说，‘我先来防一手。 
我们张的帆太多啦。喂！全体来松帆！拉落三角头帆！’真是千钧一发啊，命令刚下，狂风就赶上了我们，船开始倾斜起来。 
‘嗨，’船长说，‘我们的帆还是扯得太多了，全体来落大帆！’五分钟以后，大帆落下来了，我们只得扯着尾帆和上桅帆航行。 
‘喂，佩尼隆，’船长说，‘你干嘛摇头？’‘咦，’我说，‘我想它不见得就此肯罢休呢。’‘你说得不错，’他回答说，‘我们要遇到大风了’‘大风！不止大风，我们要遇到的是一场暴风，不然就算我看走眼了。’你可以看到那风就象蒙德里顿的灰沙一样的刮过来了，幸亏船长熟悉这种事，‘全体注意！顶帆收两隔！’船长喊道，‘帆脚索放松，绑紧，落上桅帆，扯起帆桁上的滑车！’” 
“在那种纬度的地方这样做是不够的，”那英国人说道。“如果是我，我就把顶帆放四隔，把尾帆扯落。” 
他这坚决，响亮和出人意外的声音使人人都吃了一惊。佩尼隆把手遮在眼睛上，仔细端祥了一下这个批评他船长的技术的人。“我们干得更好，先生，”老水手不无敬意地说道，“我们把船尾对准风头，顺风奔走。十分钟以后，我们扯落顶帆，光着桅杆飞驶。” 
“那艘船太旧了，经不起那样的风险。”英国人说道。 
“哦，就是这把我们断送啦，在颠簸了十二个钟头以后，船出了一个漏洞，进水了，佩尼隆，’船长说，‘我看我们正在往下沉，把舵给我，到下舱去看看。’我把舵交给了他，就下去了，那儿已经有三尺深的水了。我喊道，‘全体来抽水！’可是太晚了，好象我们抽出得愈多，进来的也愈多。‘啊，’在抽了四个钟头水以后，我说，‘既然我们是在往下沉，就让我们沉下去算了，我们总得死一次的。’‘你就是这样做出的榜样吗，佩尼隆！’船长喊道，‘好极了，等一等。’他到他的船舱里去拿了一对手枪回来，‘谁第一个离开抽水泵，我就一枪把他的脑髓打出来！’他说道。” 
“干得好！”英国人说。 
“只要道理讲清了，大家自然勇气也就来了，”那水手继续说，“那个时候，风势减弱了，海也平静下去了，但水却不断地涨上来，虽不多，只是每小时两寸，但它还是不停地涨。每小时两寸似乎不算多，但十二小时就成两尺啦，而两尺加上我们以前有的三尺就变成了五尺。‘来吧，’船长说，‘我们已经尽了我们的力了，莫雷尔先生不能再怪我们什么了。上救生艇去吧，孩子们，越快越好！’” 
“唉，”佩尼隆继续说道，“你知道，莫雷尔先生，一个水手是舍不得丢下他的船的，但却更舍不得他的命，所以我们也没等他再说第二遍就行动了，愈是那样，船就愈沉得快，象是在说：‘走吧，快逃命去吧！’我们马上把小船放到水里，八个人都跳到了里面。船长是最后一个下来的，说得更准确一点，他没有下来，他不肯离开大船，所以我就把他拦腰抱起，扔进了小船，然后我自己也跟着跳了下去。真是千钧一发哪！我刚跳离，甲板就嘣的一声象一艘主力舰上边众炮齐发似的炸裂了。十分钟以后，船就向前倾然后又横倒，连翻了几个身，于是一切就算完了，法老号不见了。至于我们，我们三天没吃没喝，于是我们决定抽签决定命运，看那一个来当其余的人的牺牲品，正在这时，我们看见了吉隆丹号，我们就发出求救的讯号，它看见了我们，向我们驶过来，把我们都救上了船。 
“唉，莫雷尔先生，全部事实就是这样，我以一个水手的名誉发誓！是不是真的？你们其它人也说说吧。”一片“是的”附和声证明这个叙述已忠实详细地讲述了他们的不幸和受苦的情形。 
“好了，好了，”莫雷尔先生说，“我知道你们谁都没有错，这只能怪命。这件事是上帝的意志，我还欠你们多少薪水？” 
“噢，那个我们不该了吧，莫雷尔先生。” 
“不，我们要谈。” 
“好吧，那么，是三个月。”佩尼隆说。 
“柯克莱斯！给这些诚实的人每人付两百法郎，”莫雷尔说道。“要是在别的时候，”他又说，“我本来会说，另外再给他们两百法算是奖金的，但时代不同罗，我现在仅有的一点钱也不是我自己的了。” 
佩尼隆转身和他的同伴商量了几句话。 
“至于那个，莫雷尔先生，”他说道，又转动着嘴里的那块烟草，“至于那个——” 
“至于什么？” 
“那钱。” 
“怎么了？” 
“我们都说，我们目前只要五十法郎就够了，其余的我们可以等到下次再算。” 
“谢谢，我的朋友们，谢谢！”莫雷尔把手按在心口上说道。 
“拿着吧，拿着吧！假如你们能找到另外一个老板，去为他服务吧，你们可以走了。” 
这最后的几句话在水手们身上发生了一种奇异的效果。 
佩尼隆差一点把他的烟草块吞了下去，幸亏他又吐了出来。 
“什么！莫雷尔先生，”他用一种低沉的声音说，“你打发我们走吗？那么你生我们的气了，是吗？” 
“不，不！”莫雷尔先生说道，“我没有生气，我也不是要打发你们走，只是我已经没有船了，所以我不再需要什么水手了。” 
“没有船了，”佩尼隆答道，“嗯，可是，你会再造的呀，我们可以等着呀。” 
“我已没有钱再造船了，佩尼隆，”船主带着一个悲哀微笑说道，“所以我无法接受你们的好意了。” 
“没有钱了！那么你一定不要再付钱给我们了。我们可以象法老号一样，两手空空地走的。” 
“够了，够了，我的朋友们！”莫雷尔喊道，他几乎要被压垮了。“去吧，我求求你们，等我将来情况好一些的时候我们再见吧。艾曼纽，陪他们下去，按我的吩咐去做吧。” 
“至少，我们可以再见面的吧，莫雷尔先生？”佩尼龙隆问。 
“是的，我的朋友们，至少，我希望如此。现在去吧。”他向柯克莱斯示意，柯克莱斯就先走了，水手们跟在他的后面，艾曼纽在最后。“现在，”船主对他的妻子和女儿说，“你们也去吧，我想和这位先生单独谈一会儿。”说着他向汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的首席代表瞥了一眼，后者在这一幕中，始终坐在那个角落里，除了我们上面提到过的那几句话以外，他没有过任何别的举动。两个女人对这个人望了一眼，她们已完全忘记了还有这个人在场，于是就退了出去尤莉在离开房间的时候，对陌生人投去了一个恳求的目光，后者报以她一个微笑，当时如果有一个无利害关系的旁观者在场，看到他那严肃的脸上竟会显出这样的微笑，一定会感到很惊奇的。这时房间里只剩下了两个男人。“唉，先生，”莫雷尔倒入一张椅子里，说道，“您都听见了，我再没有什么可告诉您的了。” 
“我都清楚了，”英国人答道，“一场新的灾难又降临到了您的身上，而这只能增加我为您效劳的愿望。” 
“噢，先生！”莫雷尔轻唤了一声。 
“我看，”那陌生人又说道，“我是您最大的债权人，是不是？” 
“您的期票，至少，是该最先付清的。” 
“您希望延期付款吗？” 
“延期不仅可以挽救我的名誉，也可以拯救我的生命。” 
“那么您希望延期多久呢？” 
莫雷尔想了一下。“两个月吧。”他说道。 
“我愿意给您三个月的时间。”那陌生人回答道。 
“但是，”莫雷尔问道，“汤姆生·弗伦奇银行能同意吗？” 
“噢，一切由我负责好了，今天是六月五日对吧？” 
“是的。” 
“好，请重新开一下这些期票，改到九月五日，到九月五日，十一点钟，时钟的针指在十一点上时，我来收钱。” 
“我等着您，”莫雷尔回答说，“我会付款给你的，不然的话，我就死。”这最后的几个字的音调说得很低，以致那陌生人根本没听到。期票重新开过后，旧的被撕毁了，那可怜的船主发现自己还有三个月的时间可以让他去想办法。英国人以他那个民族所特具的平静的态度接受了他的一番谢意，莫雷尔向他说了许多表示感激的话，亲自送他到楼梯口。那陌生人在楼梯上遇见了尤莉，她假装要下楼，但实际是却在等他。“噢，先生！”她合着双手说道。 
“小姐，”那陌生人说道，“有一天，你会收到一封署名‘水手辛巴德’的信。不论那封信看来有多么奇怪，你一定要按照信上所吩咐你的话去做。” 
“是的，先生。”尤莉回答。 
“你答应这样去做吗？” 
“我向您发誓，我一定照办！” 
“很好。再会了，小姐！愿你永远象现在一样的纯洁高尚，我相信上天会回报你，赐艾曼纽做你的丈夫。” 
尤莉轻轻地叫了一声，面孔红得象一朵玫瑰，伸手扶住了栏杆。那陌生人摆了摆手，继续下楼去了。他在天井里找到了佩尼隆，佩尼隆正两手各拿着一个内装一百法郎的纸包，似乎不能决定究竟是拿了好还是不拿好。 
“跟我来，朋友，”英国人说道，“我想跟你谈一谈。” 　
Chapter 30 The Fifth of September
 THE EXTENSION provided for by the agent of Thomson & French, at the moment when Morrel expected it least, was to the poor shipowner so decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost dared to believe that fate was at length grown weary of wasting her spite upon him. The same day he told his wife, Emmanuel, and his daughter all that had occurred; and a ray of hope, if not of tranquillity, returned to the family. Unfortunately, however, Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French, who had shown themselves so considerate towards him; and, as he had said, in business he had correspondents, and not friends. When he thought the matter over, he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him; and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this:--"We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300,000 francs, and have those 300,000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin, and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again." Unfortunately, whether through envy or stupidity, all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view; and some even came to a contrary decision. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude, and, thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman, were paid by Coclès with equal punctuality. Coclès thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm, that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50,000 francs of M. de Boville, and on the 30th the 32,500 francs of bills, for which, as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons, he had time granted, he must be a ruined man. 
The opinion of all the commercial men was that, under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel, it was impossible for him to remain solvent. Great, therefore, was the astonishment when at the end of the month, he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. Still confidence was not restored to all minds, and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the month. The month passed, and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. Formerly his paper, at any date, was taken with confidence, and was even in request. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only, and none of the banks would give him credit. Fortunately, Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely; and, as they reached him, he found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles; the day after, or two days after his visit to Morrel, he had disappeared; and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor, the inspector of prisons, and M. Morrel, his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. As to the sailors of the Pharaon, they must have found snug berths elsewhere, for they also had disappeared. 
Captain Gaumard, recovered from his illness, had returned from Palma. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's, but the owner, hearing of his arrival, went to see him. The worthy shipowner knew, from Penelon's recital, of the captain's brave conduct during the storm, and tried to console him. He brought him also the amount of his wages, which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. As he descended the staircase, Morrel met Penelon, who was going up. Penelon had, it would seem, made good use of his money, for he was newly clad. When he saw his employer, the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed, drew on one side into the corner of the landing-place, passed his quid from one cheek to the other, stared stupidly with his great eyes, and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire; it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account; he was, no doubt, engaged on board some other vessel, and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having, if we may so express ourselves, worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck, and to offer him employment from his new master. "Worthy fellows!" said Morrel, as he went away, "may your new master love you as I loved you, and be more fortunate than I have been!" 
August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach, and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month, and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel, and his cashier Coclès, to meet the creditors. But, contrary to all expectation, when the 31st of August came, the house opened as usual, and Coclès appeared behind the grating of the counter, examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny, and, from first to last, paid all with the usual precision. There came in, moreover, two drafts which M. Morrel had fully anticipated, and which Coclès paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. All this was incomprehensible, and then, with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news, the failure was put off until the end of September. On the 1st, Morrel returned; he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety, for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. Morrel had thought of Danglars, who was now immensely rich, and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days, since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker, with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs, and had unlimited credit. Danglars, then, without taking a crown from his pocket, could save Morrel; he had but to pass his word for a loan, and Morrel was saved. Morrel had long thought of Danglars, but had kept away from some instinctive motive, and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. And Morrel was right, for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. Yet, on his arrival, Morrel did not utter a complaint, or say one harsh word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter, pressed Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth, and then going to his private room on the second floor had sent for Coclès. "Then," said the two women to Emmanuel, "we are indeed ruined." 
It was agreed in a brief council held among them, that Julie should write to her brother, who was in garrison at N?mes, to come to them as speedily as possible. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. Besides, Maximilian Morrel, though hardly two and twenty, had great influence over his father. He was a strong-minded, upright young man. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him, but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. He had at once declared for a military life, and had in consequence studied hard, passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School, and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. For a year he had held this rank, and expected promotion on the first vacancy. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance, not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier, but also of the duties of a man; and he thus gained the name of "the stoic." We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it, and did not even know what it meant. This was the young man whom his mother and sister called to their aid to sustain them under the serious trial which they felt they would soon have to endure. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event, for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Coclès, Julie saw the latter leave it pale, trembling, and his features betraying the utmost consternation. She would have questioned him as he passed by her, but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation, and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed, "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle, what a dreadful misfortune! Who could ever have believed it!" A moment afterwards Julie saw him go up-stairs carrying two or three heavy ledgers, a portfolio, and a bag of money. 
Morrel examined the ledgers, opened the portfolio, and counted the money. All his funds amounted to 6,000, or 8,000 francs, his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4,000 or 5,000, which, making the best of everything, gave him 14,000 francs to meet debts amounting to 287,500 francs. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. However, when Morrel went down to his dinner, he appeared very calm. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club, and read the Semaphore; this day he did not leave the house, but returned to his office. 
As to Coclès, he seemed completely bewildered. For part of the day he went into the court-yard, seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women, but his eloquence faltered. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house, not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. Night came, the two women had watched, hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them, but they heard him pass before their door, and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. They listened; he went into his sleeping-room, and fastened the door inside. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed, and half an hour after Julie had retired, she rose, took off her shoes, and went stealthily along the passage, to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow; it was Julie, who, uneasy herself, had anticipated her mother. The young lady went towards Madame Morrel. 
"He is writing," she said. They had understood each other without speaking. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole, Morrel was writing; but Madame Morrel remarked, what her daughter had not observed, that her husband was writing on stamped paper. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her; she shuddered, and yet had not strength to utter a word. Next day M. Morrel seemed as calm as ever, went into his office as usual, came to his breakfast punctually, and then, after dinner, he placed his daughter beside him, took her head in his arms, and held her for a long time against his bosom. In the evening, Julie told her mother, that although he was apparently so calm, she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. The next two days passed in much the same way. On the evening of the 4th of September, M. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study. Julie trembled at this request, which seemed to her of bad omen. Why did her father ask for this key which she always kept, and which was only taken from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel. 
"What have I done wrong, father," she said, "that you should take this key from me?" 
"Nothing, my dear," replied the unhappy man, the tears starting to his eyes at this simple question,--"nothing, only I want it." Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. "I must have left it in my room," she said. And she went out, but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to consult Emmanuel. "Do not give this key to your father," said he, "and to-morrow morning, if possible, do not quit him for a moment." She questioned Emmanuel, but he knew nothing, or would not say what he knew. During the night, between the 4th and 5th of September, Madame Morrel remained listening for every sound, and, until three o'clock in the morning, she heard her husband pacing the room in great agitation. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the bed. The mother and daughter passed the night together. They had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. At eight o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. He was calm; but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale and careworn visage. They did not dare to ask him how he had slept. Morrel was kinder to his wife, more affectionate to his daughter, than he had ever been. He could not cease gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. Julie, mindful of Emmanuel's request, was following her father when he quitted the room, but he said to her quickly,--"Remain with your mother, dearest." Julie wished to accompany him. "I wish you to do so," said he. 
This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken, but he said it in a tone of paternal kindness, and Julie did not dare to disobey. She remained at the same spot standing mute and motionless. An instant afterwards the door opened, she felt two arms encircle her, and a mouth pressed her forehead. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. 
"Maximilian, my dearest brother!" she cried. At these words Madame Morrel rose, and threw herself into her son's arms. "Mother," said the young man, looking alternately at Madame Morrel and her daughter, "what has occurred--what has happened? Your letter has frightened me, and I have come hither with all speed." 
"Julie," said Madame Morrel, making a sign to the young man, "go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived." The young lady rushed out of the apartment, but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. 
"Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?" inquired the man, with a strong Italian accent. 
"Yes, sir," replied Julie with hesitation; "what is your pleasure? I do not know you." 
"Read this letter," he said, handing it to her. Julie hesitated. "It concerns the best interests of your father," said the messenger. 
The young girl hastily took the letter from him. She opened it quickly and read:-- 
"Go this moment to the Allées de Meillan, enter the house No. 15, ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor, enter the apartment, take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk, and give it to your father. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o'clock. You promised to obey me implicitly. Remember your oath. 
"Sinbad the Sailor." 
The young girl uttered a joyful cry, raised her eyes, looked round to question the messenger, but he had disappeared. She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time, and saw there was a postscript. She read:-- 
"It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone. If you go accompanied by any other person, or should any one else go in your place, the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it." 
This postscript decreased greatly the young girl's happiness. Was there nothing to fear? was there not some snare laid for her? Her innocence had kept her in ignorance of the dangers that might assail a young girl of her age. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it; indeed, it may be observed, that it is usually unknown perils that inspire the greatest terror. 
Julie hesitated, and resolved to take counsel. Yet, through a singular impulse, it was neither to her mother nor her brother that she applied, but to Emmanuel. She hastened down and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of Thomson & French had come to her father's, related the scene on the staircase, repeated the promise she had made, and showed him the letter. "You must go, then, mademoiselle," said Emmanuel. 
"Go there?" murmured Julie. 
"Yes; I will accompany you." 
"But did you not read that I must be alone?" said Julie. 
"And you shall be alone," replied the young man. "I will await you at the corner of the Rue de Musée, and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy, I will hasten to rejoin you, and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!" 
"Then, Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation, "it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" 
"Yes. Did not the messenger say your father's safety depended upon it?" 
"But what danger threatens him, then, Emmanuel?" she asked. 
Emmanuel hesitated a moment, but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply. 
"Listen," he said; "to-day is the 5th of September, is it not?" 
"Yes." 
"To-day, then, at eleven o'clock, your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?" 
"Yes, we know that." 
"Well, then," continued Emmanuel, "we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house." 
"What will happen then?" 
"Why, if to-day before eleven o'clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid, he will be compelled at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt." 
"Oh, come, then, come!" cried she, hastening away with the young man. During this time, Madame Morrel had told her son everything. The young man knew quite well that, after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father, great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping; but he did not know that matters had reached such a point. He was thunderstruck. Then, rushing hastily out of the apartment, he ran up-stairs, expecting to find his father in his study, but he rapped there in vain. 
While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open, turned, and saw his father. Instead of going direct to his study, M. Morrel had returned to his bed-chamber, which he was only this moment quitting. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son, of whose arrival he was ignorant. He remained motionless on the spot, pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. Maximilian sprang down the staircase, and threw his arms round his father's neck; but suddenly he recoiled, and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast. "Father," he exclaimed, turning pale as death, "what are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?" 
"Oh, this is what I feared!" said Morrel. 
"Father, father, in heaven's name," exclaimed the young man, "what are these weapons for?" 
"Maximilian," replied Morrel, looking fixedly at his son, "you are a man, and a man of honor. Come, and I will explain to you." 
And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study, while Maximilian followed him, trembling as he went. Morrel opened the door, and closed it behind his son; then, crossing the anteroom, went to his desk on which he placed the pistols, and pointed with his finger to an open ledger. In this ledger was made out an exact balance-sheet of his affair's. Morrel had to pay, within half an hour, 287,500 francs. All he possessed was 15,257 francs. "Read!" said Morrel. 
The young man was overwhelmed as he read. Morrel said not a word. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures? "And have you done all that is possible, father, to meet this disastrous result?" asked the young man, after a moment's pause. "I have," replied Morrel. 
"You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" 
"None." 
"You have exhausted every resource?" 
"All." 
"And in half an hour," said Maximilian in a gloomy voice, "our name is dishonored!" 
"Blood washes out dishonor," said Morrel. 
"You are right, father; I understand you." Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols, he said, "There is one for you and one for me--thanks!" Morrel caught his hand. "Your mother--your sister! Who will support them?" A shudder ran through the young man's frame. "Father," he said, "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" 
"Yes, I do so bid you," answered Morrel, "it is your duty. You have a calm, strong mind, Maximilian. Maximilian, you are no ordinary man. I make no requests or commands; I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own, and then judge for yourself." 
The young man reflected for a moment, then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes, and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets, the insignia of his rank. "Be it so, then, my father," he said, extending his hand to Morrel, "die in peace, my father; I will live." Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son, but Maximilian caught him in his arms, and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. "You know it is not my fault," said Morrel. Maximilian smiled. "I know, father, you are the most honorable man I have ever known." 
"Good, my son. And now there is no more to be said; go and rejoin your mother and sister." 
"My father," said the young man, bending his knee, "bless me!" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands, drew him forward, and kissing his forehead several times said, "Oh, yes, yes, I bless you in my own name, and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men, who say through me, 'The edifice which misfortune has destroyed, providence may build up again.' On seeing me die such a death, the most inexorable will have pity on you. To you, perhaps, they will accord the time they have refused to me. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. Go to work, labor, young man, struggle ardently and courageously; live, yourself, your mother and sister, with the most rigid economy, so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. Reflect how glorious a day it will be, how grand, how solemn, that day of complete restoration, on which you will say in this very office, 'My father died because he could not do what I have this day done; but he died calmly and peaceably, because in dying he knew what I should do.'" 
"My father, my father!" cried the young man, "why should you not live?" 
"If I live, all would be changed; if I live, interest would be converted into doubt, pity into hostility; if I live I am only a man who his broken his word, failed in his engagements--in fact, only a bankrupt. If, on the contrary, I die, remember, Maximilian, my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate man. Living, my best friends would avoid my house; dead, all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home. Living, you would feel shame at my name; dead, you may raise your head and say, 'I am the son of him you killed, because, for the first time, he has been compelled to break his word.'" 
The young man uttered a groan, but appeared resigned. 
"And now," said Morrel, "leave me alone, and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away." 
"Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview, and therefore he had suggested it. Morrel shook his head. "I saw her this morning, and bade her adieu." 
"Have you no particular commands to leave with me, my father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. 
"Yes; my son, and a sacred command." 
"Say it, my father." 
"The house of Thomson & French is the only one who, from humanity, or, it may be, selfishness--it is not for me to read men's hearts--has had any pity for me. Its agent, who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287,500 francs, I will not say granted, but offered me three months. Let this house be the first repaid, my son, and respect this man." 
"Father, I will," said Maximilian. 
"And now, once more, adieu," said Morrel. "Go, leave me; I would be alone. You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom." 
The young man remained standing and motionless, having but the force of will and not the power of execution. 
"Hear me, Maximilian," said his father. "Suppose I was a soldier like you, and ordered to carry a certain redoubt, and you knew I must be killed in the assault, would you not say to me, as you said just now, 'Go, father; for you are dishonored by delay, and death is preferable to shame!'" 
"Yes, yes," said the young man, "yes;" and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure, he said, "Be it so, my father." 
And he rushed out of the study. When his son had left him, Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door; then putting forth his arm, he pulled the bell. After a moment's interval, Coclès appeared. 
It was no longer the same man--the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. This thought--the house of Morrel is about to stop payment--bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. 
"My worthy Coclès," said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe, "do you remain in the ante-chamber. When the gentleman who came three months ago--the agent of Thomson & French--arrives, announce his arrival to me." Coclès made no reply; he made a sign with his head, went into the anteroom, and seated himself. Morrel fell back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the clock; there were seven minutes left, that was all. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity, he seemed to see its motion. 
What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. He was still comparatively young, he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family, but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning, illogical perhaps, yet certainly plausible, that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world, even life itself. To form the slightest idea of his feelings, one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear-moistened eyes raised to heaven. The minute hand moved on. The pistols were loaded; he stretched forth his hand, took one up, and murmured his daughter's name. Then he laid it down seized his pen, and wrote a few words. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. Then he turned again to the clock, counting time now not by minutes, but by seconds. He took up the deadly weapon again, his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock, and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow, a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart-strings. He heard the door of the staircase creak on its hinges--the clock gave its warning to strike eleven--the door of his study opened; Morrel did not turn round--he expected these words of Coclès, "The agent of Thomson & French." 
He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. Suddenly he heard a cry--it was his daughter's voice. He turned and saw Julie. The pistol fell from his hands. "My father!" cried the young girl, out of breath, and half dead with joy--"saved, you are saved!" And she threw herself into his arms, holding in her extended hand a red, netted silk purse. 
"Saved, my child!" said Morrel; "what do you mean?" 
"Yes, saved--saved! See, see!" said the young girl. 
Morrel took the purse, and started as he did so, for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. At one end was the receipted bill for the 287,000 francs, and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazel-nut, with these words on a small slip of parchment: 
　 
"JULIE'S DOWRY." 
Morrel passed his hand over his brow; it seemed to him a dream. At this moment the clock struck eleven. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart. "Explain, my child," he said, "Explain, my child," he said, "explain--where did you find this purse?" 
"In a house in the Allées de Meillan, No. 15, on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor." 
"But," cried Morrel, "this purse is not yours!" Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning. 
"And did you go alone?" asked Morrel, after he had read it. 
"Emmanuel accompanied me, father. He was to have waited for me at the corner of the Rue de Musée, but, strange to say, he was not there when I returned." 
"Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs.--"Monsieur Morrel!" 
"It is his voice!" said Julie. At this moment Emmanuel entered, his countenance full of animation and joy. "The Pharaon!" he cried; "the Pharaon!" 
"What--what--the Pharaon! Are you mad, Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost." 
"The Pharaon, sir--they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!" Morrel fell back in his chair, his strength was failing him; his understanding weakened by such events, refused to comprehend such incredible, unheard-of, fabulous facts. But his son came in. "Father," cried Maximilian, "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her, and they say she is now coming into port." 
"My dear friends," said Morrel, "if this be so, it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible, impossible!" 
But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand, the acceptance receipted--the splendid diamond. 
"Ah, sir," exclaimed Coclès, "what can it mean?--the Pharaon?" 
"Come, dear ones," said Morrel, rising from his seat, "let us go and see, and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all went out, and on the stairs met Madame Morrel, who had been afraid to go up into the study. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. There was a crowd on the pier. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. "The Pharaon, the Pharaon!" said every voice. 
And, wonderful to see, in front of the tower of Saint-Jean, was a ship bearing on her stern these words, printed in white letters, "The Pharaon, Morrel & Son, of Marseilles." She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon, and loaded, as that had been, with cochineal and indigo. She cast anchor, clued up sails, and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders, and good old Penelon making signals to M. Morrel. To doubt any longer was impossible; there was the evidence of the senses, and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony. As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head, in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event, a man, with his face half-covered by a black beard, and who, concealed behind the sentry-box, watched the scene with delight, uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy, noble heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds." 
And with a smile expressive of supreme content, he left his hiding-place, and without being observed, descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation, and hailing three times, shouted "Jacopo, Jacopo, Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore, took him on board, and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up, on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor; thence he once again looked towards Morrel, who, weeping with joy, was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him, and thanking with a look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. "And now," said the unknown, "farewell kindness, humanity, and gratitude! Farewell to all the feelings that expand the heart! I have been heaven's substitute to recompense the good--now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked!" At these words he gave a signal, and, as if only awaiting this signal, the yacht instantly put out to sea.  
汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的代表所提出的延期一事，当时是莫雷尔所万万想不到的。在可怜的船主看来，这似乎是他的运气又有了转机，等于命运之神在向人宣布，它已厌倦了在他的身上泄恨了。当天他就把经过的情形讲给了他的妻女和艾曼纽听。全家人即使不能说已恢复安宁，但至少又有了一线希望。汤姆生·弗伦奇银行这个慷慨的举动算作友谊的表示，而只能算作自私的做法，银行方面大概是这样想，“这个人欠我们将近三十万法郎，我们与其逼他破产，只拿到本金的百分之六到八，还不如支持他，在三个月以后收回三十万为妙。”不幸，不知究竟是出于仇恨还是盲目与莫雷尔的往来的商行却并不都是这样想。有几家甚至抱着一种相反的想法。所以莫雷尔所签出去的期票仍毫不客气地如期拿到他的办公室来兑现，而多亏了英国人延期之举，那些期票才得以由柯克莱斯照付。所以柯克莱斯依旧象他往日一样的泰然自若。只有莫雷尔惶恐地想到，假如十五日该付监狱长波维里先生的十万法郎和三十日到期的那几张三万二千五百法郎的期票不曾延期的话，他早已破产了。一般商界的人士，都以为莫雷尔在恶运不断的打击之下，是无法坚持下去。所以当他们看到月底来临，而他却照常能如期兑现他所有的期票时，不禁大为惊奇。 
可是人们仍没有完全恢复对他的信心，一般人都说，那不幸的船主的整个崩溃的日子只能拖延到下个月月底。在那个月里，莫雷尔以闻所未闻的努力来回收他所有的资金。以前他开出去的期票，不论日期长短，人家总是很相信地接受的，甚至还有自动来请求存款的。现在莫雷尔只想贴现三个月的期票，但却发现所有的银行都对他关上了门。幸亏莫雷尔还有几笔钱可收回，那几笔钱收到以后，他才能把七月底的债务应付过去。汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的代表再也没在马赛露过面。在拜访过莫雷尔先生后的第二天或第三天里，他就失踪了，在马赛，他只见过市长，监狱长和莫雷尔先生，所以他这次露面，除了这三个人对他各自留下了一个不同的印象以外，再没有别的踪迹可寻。至于法老号的水手们，他们似乎无疑地已找到了另外的工作，因为他们也不见了。 
茄马特船长病愈后从帕尔马岛回来了。他不敢去见莫雷尔，但船主听说他回来后，就亲自去看望他。这位可敬的船主已从佩尼隆的那里了解了船长在暴风中的英勇行为，所以想去安慰安慰他。他还把他该得的薪水也带了去，那原是茄马特船长不敢开口要的，当莫雷尔从楼梯上下来的时候，他碰见佩尼隆正要上去。佩尼隆似乎把钱花得很正当，因为他从上到下穿着新衣服。当他看到自己的雇主的时候，那可敬的水手似乎十分尴尬，他缩到了楼梯的拐角，把他嘴巴里的烟草块顶来顶去，大眼睛直勾勾地瞪着，只感到在握手的时候莫雷尔照常轻轻地回捏他一下。莫雷尔以为，佩尼隆的窘态是由于他穿了漂亮的新衣服的关系，这个诚实人显然从来不曾在自己身上花过那么多钱。他无疑的已在别的船上找到工作了，所以他的羞怯，说不定就是为了他已不再为法老号致哀的缘故。他或许是来把他的好运告诉茄马特船长，并代表他的新主人来请船长去工作的。“都是好人啊！”莫雷尔一边走一边说，“愿你们的新主人也象我一样的爱你们，并愿他比我幸运！” 
八月份一天天地过去了，莫雷尔不断地努力，到处奔走借债，到了八月二十日那天，马赛盛传他搭乘了一辆邮车走了，据说他的公司月底就要宣告破产了。莫雷尔之所以要离开，就是为了避免目睹这个残酷的场面，而只留下他的助手艾曼纽和会计柯克莱斯去应付。但出乎大家意料之外的是，八月三十一日那天，公司仍照常开门，柯克莱斯坐在账台栅栏后面，照样仔仔细细地察看所有拿来兑现的期票，从第一张到最后一张，照样如数付清，其中有两张还是莫雷尔拿去贴现的保付支票，这柯克莱斯也照样兑付，就象是船主直接发出去的期票一样，这一切简直是不可思议的。可是，预言祸事的人总是不甘心罢休的，所以倒闭的日期又被定在了九月底。九月一日，莫雷尔回来了。全家人都极其焦急地在等着他，因为他们最后的希望就寄托在这次到巴黎去的旅程上了。莫雷尔想起了腾格拉尔，腾格拉尔现在非常有钱了，而以前他曾象受过莫雷尔许多恩惠，因为他那庞大的财富是在进西班牙银行服务以后开始积累起来的，而当时是莫雷尔介绍他去那儿工作的。据说腾格拉尔目前的财产已达六百万到八百万法郎，而且还有无限的信用。所以腾格拉尔如果肯救莫雷尔，他根本用不着从口袋掏一个铜板，而只在借款时说一句话，莫雷尔就得救了。莫雷尔早就想到过腾格拉尔。但他对他有一种无法抑制的本能的反感，所以莫雷尔是到了山穷水尽的地步才去求救于他的。莫雷尔当时的想法是对的，因为他想到了拒绝，屈辱地回家来了。回家以后，莫雷尔即没有一声怨言，也没说一句刻薄的话。 
他同他那哀哀哭泣的妻女拥抱了一下，又带着友情的温暖同艾曼纽握了一下手，然后去他三楼的书房里了，同时派人去叫柯克莱斯来。 
“这样看来”两个女人对艾曼纽说，“我们是真的破产了。” 
他们匆匆商谈了一番，大家一致同意由尤莉写信给驻防在尼姆的哥哥，叫他赶快回家，这两个可怜的女人本能地感觉到她们必须以全部力量来承受这日益迫近的打击。马西米兰·莫雷尔虽还不满二十二岁，却很能左右他的父亲。他是一个刚毅正直的青年。当他决定入伍的时候，他的父亲原无意让他干那一行，于是就叫年轻的马西米兰考虑了一下自己的兴趣以后再做决定。他立刻宣布愿过军人的生活。他后来刻苦学习，在军官学校毕业时成绩极优，高校后就在五十三联队成了一名少尉。他当少尉已一年了，一旦有机会便可以升迁。在他那一联队里，马西米兰·莫雷尔是一个众所周知最严守纪律的人，不仅严守一个军人应尽的义务，而且还严守一个人应尽的责任，所以他获得了“斯多葛派”［斯多葛派是古希腊一种唯心主义哲学派别，摈弃享乐，提介寡欲。后来常以这个名称指刻苦自励的人。］这一美名。不言而喻，许多人喊他这个绰号，只不过是从旁人那儿听来的，有些人甚至根本不知道其真正的含义。 
这位青年人就是他的母亲和他的妹妹求援的目标，她们觉得严重的局势就要到来了，所以召他回来支援她们。她们并没有错估这件事的严重性，因为莫雷尔和柯克莱斯同进办公室以后，尤莉看到后者出来的时候脸色苍白，浑身发抖，神色惊恐不安，当他经过她身边的时候，她本来想问问他，但那老实人一反常态，竟慌慌张张地急忙奔下楼去，只是举手向天，惊叹道：“噢，小姐，小姐！多可怕的祸事！谁能相信啊！”过了一会儿，尤莉又看到他上楼来，手里捧着两三本厚厚的账簿，一册笔记本和一袋钱。 
莫雷尔查看了账簿，翻开了笔记本，数了数钱。他所有的现金约为七八千法郎，他应收的账款，到五号为止，约有四五千，加起来，最多不过只有一万四千法郎，而要付的那些期票却达二十八万七千五百法郎之多。他是无法对债主这样开口的。但是，当莫雷尔下楼去用午餐时，他外表看来却非常的平静。这种平静的态度比最大的忧郁更使两个女人感到惊惶。午餐以后，莫雷尔通常总要出去，照例到佛喜俱乐部去喝咖啡，读《讯号报》的，但这一天他没有离家，却回到了他的办公室里。 
至于柯克莱斯，他似乎完全给弄糊涂了。那天下午他走到天井里，光着头坐在一块石头上，曝晒在炽热的阳光底下。艾曼纽想设法安慰一下两个女人，但他又不知该说些什么。这个年轻人对于公司的业务知道得很清楚，决不会不知道一场大祸已笼罩在莫雷尔全家的头上。夜晚来临了。两个女人没法睡觉，在房间里守着，希望莫雷尔在离开办公室以后会到她们这儿来。但她们听到他经过她们的门口时，故意放轻了脚步。 
她们听见他已走进他的卧室，并在里面把门关上了。莫雷尔夫人叫女儿上床去睡。尤莉走后，她又等了半个钟头，然后站起身来，脱掉鞋子，偷偷地沿着走廊摸过去，想从钥匙孔里看着她的丈夫在做什么。在走廊里，她遇到了一个后退的黑影，那是尤莉，她也心中不安，比她的母亲先来了一步。那年轻姑娘向莫雷尔夫人走过来。“他在写东西。”她说道。她们不必说话就都已互相了解了对方的心思。莫雷尔夫人再从钥匙孔里望进去。莫雷尔果然在写东西，但莫雷尔夫人却注意到了一件她女儿没注意到的事，就是她的丈夫正在一张贴着印花的纸上写字。一个恐怖的念头闪过了她的脑子：他正在写遗嘱。她不禁浑身打了个寒噤，可是却没有力气说出一个字来。第二天，莫雷尔先生似乎象往常一样的平静，照常走进他的办公室，按时来用早餐，但在午餐以后，他就把女儿拉到了自己身边，抱住她的头贴在自己的胸前，拥抱了她很长一段时间。到了晚上尤莉告诉她的母亲，说他在外表上虽然是这样的平静，但她注意到父亲的心跳得很剧烈。以后的两天也是这样地过去了。到了九月四日晚上，莫雷尔向他的女儿要回了他办公室的钥匙。 
尤莉一听到这个要求立刻就发抖了，她觉得这是一个恶兆。这把钥匙一向是由她保存着的，只有在她童年的时代，有时向她讨回只不过当作一种惩罚罢了，而现在她的父亲为什么要讨回这把钥匙呢？那年轻姑娘望着莫雷尔。“我做错了什么事，父亲？”她说，“你要向我讨回这把钥匙？” 
“没什么，我的宝贝，”那不幸的人回答道，一听到这个简单的问题，泪水便盈满了他的双眼，“没什么，只是我要它。” 
尤莉假装在身上摸钥匙。“我一定把它掉在我的房间里了。”她说道。于是她走了出去，但她并没有回她的卧室，却赶快去和艾曼纽商量。“这把钥匙不要给你的父亲，”他说，“明天早晨，要是可能的话，一刻都不要离开他。”她问艾曼纽是怎么回事，但他也什么都不知道，或许是不肯说，在九月四日到五日的那个晚上，莫雷尔尔夫人留心倾听着每一个声音，她听到自己的丈夫焦躁不安地在房间里踱来踱去，一直到早晨三点钟。他是在三点钟才躺到床上去的。那一夜母女两人厮守着挨了过去。她们也在期待着马西米兰，他本该在傍晚时就到的。早晨八点钟，莫雷尔走进了她们的房间。他很平静，但在他那苍白和忧伤的脸上，显然可看出那一夜的焦虑。她们不敢问他睡得好不好。莫雷尔一生中从来也没象今天这样对他的妻子如此温柔，对他的女儿如此充满了父爱。他不断地凝视着娇美的姑娘，不断地吻她。尤莉没忘艾曼纽的话，当她的父亲离开房间的时候，就跟着他一起出去了，但他却急忙对她说，“去陪着你的妈妈吧。”尤莉想陪他。“我要你这样做。”他坚持说。这是莫雷尔生平第一次对女儿说，“我要你这样做。”但他说这句话的时候，语气中仍满带着父亲的慈爱，尤莉不敢不从命。她站在老地方，哑口无言，一动也不动，片刻以后，门开了，她觉得有两只手臂抱住了她，两片嘴唇亲到了她的前额上。她抬头一望，发出一声惊喜的喊声。“马西米兰！哥哥！”她喊道。 
听到这几个字，莫雷尔夫人站起身来，扑入她儿子的怀抱。 
“妈，”青年叫道，他望望莫雷尔夫人，又望望他的妹妹，“怎么啦？你们的信吓了我一跳，所以我尽快赶回来了。” 
“尤莉，”莫雷尔夫人边说，边对那青年作了一个表示，“快去告诉你父亲，说马西米兰回来了。”那年轻姑娘急忙冲出房间，但在楼梯口，她碰到一个人手里正拿着一封信。 
“你是尤莉·莫雷尔小姐吗？”那人带着浓重的意大利口音问道。 
“是的，先生，”尤莉吞吞吐吐地答道，“你有何贵干？我不认识你呀。” 
“请读一读这封信吧，”他说完就把信交给了她。尤莉犹豫了一下。“这封信对令尊大有好处。”信差补充道。 
年轻姑娘急忙接过信赶紧拆开，读道： 
马上到梅朗巷去，走进门牌是十五号的那座房子，向门房要六楼上的房门钥匙。走进那个房间，在壁炉架的角落里有一只红丝带织成的钱袋，拿来给令尊大人。注意，他必须在十一点以前收到这只钱袋。你答应过要照我说的去做的。要履行你的诺言。 
水手辛巴德上。 
年轻姑娘发出一声欣喜的呼喊，抬起头来，四顾寻觅那信差，但他已经不见了。她的目光又回到了那封信上，又读了第二遍，发现原来还有一小段附言。她读道：“记住，你必须亲自去完成这项使命，而且必须单独去。要是让别人去，或由别人陪你去，则门房就会回答说他根本不知道有这回事。” 
这段附言使年轻姑娘的欢喜打了个折扣。她可以毫无担心地去吗？那儿会不会有某种陷阱在等待着她呢？她还很天真，不知道象她这种年龄的年轻姑娘可能遇到的种种危险。但对于危险的恐惧是不必事先知道的，真的，说起来，常常是不可知的危险会使人产生极大的恐怖。 
尤莉心里犹豫不决，决定找人商量一下。可是，由于一种奇特的情感，她所要商量的对象既不是她的母亲也不是她的哥哥，而是艾曼纽。她急忙下楼去，把汤姆生·弗伦奇银行代表来见他父亲那天所发生的事情告诉了他，把楼梯上的那幕情形讲给他听，并说她当时已答应过他，然后又把那封信拿给他看。 
“那么，你一定得去，小姐。”艾曼纽说道。 
“到那儿去吗？”尤莉问。 
“是的，我可以陪你去。” 
“但你没看到上面要求我一定要一个人去吗？”尤莉说。 
“你是一个人去，”青年答道。“我可以在穆萨街的拐角上等你，假如你去得太久了，使我感到了不安，我就赶去接你，谁要是找你麻烦，我就要他好看！” 
“那么，艾曼纽，”年轻姑娘吞吞吐吐地说道，“你的意见是我应该服从这个命令了？” 
“是的，那送信人不是说这关系到你父亲能否得救吗？” 
“他倒底有什么危险呀，艾曼纽？” 
艾曼纽犹豫了一会儿，但为了使尤莉立刻做出决定，他不得不把实话说出来。 
“听着，”他说，“今天是九月五日，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“那么，在今天十一点钟，你的父亲差不多有三十万法郎要付。” 
“是的，那我知道。” 
“但是，”艾曼纽又说道，“我们公司里的现款还不够一万五千法郎。” 
“那可怎么办呢？” 
“所以，假如在今天十一点钟以前，你父亲找不到人来帮他，则到了十二点钟他就不得不宣布破产啦。” 
“噢，来吧，来吧！”她大喊一声，急忙拖了那个青年就跑。 
这时，莫雷尔夫人已把发生的一切都讲给她的儿子听了。 
那青年已知道得很清楚了，自从灾祸接二连三地降临到他的身上以来，家里的生活已起了很大的变化，但他不知道事情竟会发展到这步境地。他吓得呆如木鸡。然后，他冲出房间，奔上楼梯，想在办公室里找到父亲，但他敲了很长时间门，里面毫无动静。当他还站在办公室门口的时候，他听到卧室的门开了，转过身来，看见了自己的父亲。原来莫雷尔先生并没有直接到他的办公室去，而是回到了他的卧室，直到这时才出来。 
莫雷尔一看见自己的儿子，就发出了一声惊喊，他根本不知道他会回来的。他一动不动地站在老地方，用左手紧按着一件藏在他衣服底下的东西。马西米兰三步两步跳下楼梯，扑上去搂住了他父亲的脖子，突然他缩回了身子，用右手按在莫雷尔的胸膛上。“父亲！”他喊道，脸刷地变成死灰色，“你衣服底下藏着这对手枪干什么？” 
“噢，我也害怕这东西！”莫雷尔说道。 
“父亲，父亲！看在老天的份上，”青年惊喊道，“告诉我，您究竟拿这些武器要做什么？” 
“马西米兰，”莫雷尔眼睛一眨不眨地望着自己的儿子回答说，“你是一个男子汉，而且是一个爱名誉的男子汉。来，我解释给你听。” 
于是莫雷尔跨着坚定的步子向他的办公室走去，马西米兰跟在他的后面，一路走，一路发抖。莫雷尔打开门，等他的儿子进来以后就把门关上了，然后，穿过前厅，走到他的写字台前，把手枪放在上面，手指一本摊开的帐簿。这本帐簿准确无误地记录着公司的财务状况。半小时后，莫雷尔就得付出二十八万七千五百法郎。而他现在仅有一万五千二百五十法郎。 
“看吧！”莫雷尔说道。 
青年读着，感到愈来愈绝望。莫雷尔一言不发。他还能说些什么呢？在这样一个绝望的数字面前，还要什么解释呢？ 
“父亲，你已经想尽了一切办法了吗？”青年过了一会儿问道。 
“是的。”莫雷尔答道。 
“你再没有可收回的钱了吗？” 
“一点也没有了。” 
“你在各方面都搜尽了吗？” 
“都搜空了。” 
“这么说半小时之后，”马西米兰用一种阴沉的声音说，“我们的名誉就要蒙受耻辱了。” 
“血可以洗清耻辱的。”莫雷尔说道。 
“你说得对，父亲，我了解你。”于是他伸手去拿手枪，说道，“一支给你，一支给我，谢谢！” 
莫雷尔拉住了他的手。“你的母亲！你的妹妹！谁去养活她们呢？” 
一阵寒颤流过青年的全身。 
“父亲，”他说，“你想好了是要我活下去吗？” 
“是的，我要你这样做，”莫雷尔答道，“这是你的责任。马西米兰，你有一个冷静坚强的头脑。马西米兰，你不是普通人。 
我什么都不希望，我什么命令都没有，我只想对你说，你设身处地仔细为我想一想，然后你自己来作出判断吧。” 
年轻人想了一会儿，他的眼睛流露出一种崇高的听天由命的表情，用一种缓慢的，悲伤的姿势扯下那表示他的军衔的两个肩章。“那么，好吧，父亲，”他伸手给莫雷尔说道，“安心地死去吧，父亲。我会活下去的。” 
莫雷尔几乎要跪到儿子的面前，但马西米兰抱住了他，于是这两颗高贵的心在一霎间紧紧地贴在了一起。“你知道，这不是我的错。”莫雷尔说道。 
马西米兰微笑了一下。“我知道的，父亲，你是我生平所知道的最可尊敬的人。” 
“好了，我的儿子，现在一切都说明白了，现在回到你母亲和妹妹那儿去吧。” 
“父亲，”青年跪下一条腿说道，“祝福我吧！” 
莫雷尔双手捧起他的头，把他拉近了一些，在他的前额上吻了几下，说道：“噢是的，是的，我以自己的名义和三代无可责备的祖先的名义祝福你，他们借我的口说：‘灾祸所摧毁的大厦，天命会使之重建。’看到我这样的死法，即使铁石心肠的人也会怜悯你的。他们拒绝给我宽限，对你，或许会给的。要尽量不说出有失体面的话。要去工作，去劳动，年轻人，要热忱而勇敢地去奋斗，要活下去，你，你的母亲和你的妹妹，都要克勤克俭地生活下去，这样，你的财产或许会一天天地增加，把我所欠下的债还清。到全部还清的那一天，你就可以在这间办公室里说：‘我父亲的死，是因为他无法做到我在今天所做到的事。但他是平静地死去的，因为他在临死的时候知道我会做到的。’想想看，那一天将是多么光荣，多么伟大，多么庄严埃”“父亲！父亲！”青年哭道，“你为什么就不能活下去呢？” 
“假如我活着，一切就都改变了，假如我活着，关心会变成怀疑，怜悯会变成敌意。假如我活着，我只是一个不信守诺言，不能偿清债务的人，实际上，只是一个破了产的人。反过来说，假如我死了，要记得，马西米兰，我的尸首是一个诚实而不幸的人的尸首。活着连我最好的朋友也会避开我的屋子，死了，全马赛的人都会含泪送我到我最后的安息地。活着，你会以我的名字为耻，死了，你可以昂起头来说：‘我父亲是自杀的，因为他生平第一次在迫不得已的情形之下没有履行他的诺言。’”年轻人发出了一声呻吟，但看来已屈服了。因为他的头脑不是他的心已被第二次说服了。 
“现在，”莫雷尔说，“让我单独留在这儿吧，想法带开你母亲和妹妹。” 
“你不再见见妹妹了吗？”马西米兰问道，在这次会见中，青年的心里还藏着一个最后的朦胧的希望，他是为了那个理由才这样建议的。莫雷尔摇了摇头。“我今天早晨见过她了，”他说，“和她告别过了。” 
“你没有特别的嘱咐留给我吗，父亲？”马西米兰哑着嗓子问道。 
“有的，我的孩子，有一个神圣的嘱托。” 
“说吧，父亲。” 
“只有一家汤姆生·弗伦奇银行曾同情过我，是出于人道，还是出于自私，我不知道。它的代理人曾给了我，我不愿说赐给我三个月延期的时间，他在十分钟之后就要来收那笔二十八万七千五百法郎的期票了。这家银行应该最先还清，我的孩子，你必须尊重那个人。” 
“父亲，我会的。”马西米兰说。 
“现在再向你说一次，永别了，”莫雷尔说。“去吧！去吧！ 
我要独自呆在这儿。你可以在我卧室的写字台里找到我的遗嘱。” 
青年仍旧一动不动地站在那里，心里虽想服从，但却没有勇气来实行。 
“听我说，马西米兰，”他的父亲说。“假若我是一个象你这样的军人，受命去攻克某一个城堡，而你知道我肯定会在进攻时被杀的，难道你不愿意象现在这样的对我说一声：‘去吧，父亲，因为倘若您留下来就要名誉扫地，宁愿死，别受辱’！” 
“是的，是的！”青年说道，“是的！”于是又浑身痉挛地用力拥抱了他父亲一次，说，“就这样吧，父亲。”说完他便冲出了办公室。 
在儿子离开以后，莫雷尔两眼盯住门口，静静地站了一会儿，然后他伸手去拉铃。过了一会儿，柯克莱斯进来了。 
他已不再是往常那个人了，最近三天来的可怕的一切已压垮了他。莫雷尔父子公司就要付不出款的这个想法完全把他压倒了，二十年来他从未感到过这样的屈辱。 
“我的好柯克莱斯，”莫雷尔用一种难以形容的表情说道：“你去等在前厅里。当三个月前来过的那位先生，汤姆·弗伦奇银行的代表来的时候，向我通报一声。”柯克莱斯没有回答，他只是点了点头，走进前厅里，坐了下来，莫雷尔倒入他的椅子里，眼睛盯在钟表上，现在还剩七分钟，只有七分钟了。表针的移动快得令人难以相信，他象是能看到它在走动似的。 
这个人，他还依旧年轻，但却为了一种或许是虚妄但至少在表面上看来很正当的理由，就要和世界上他所爱的一切告别，放弃充满家庭乐趣的生命了，在这最后的一刻，他的脑子里究竟在想些什么，实在是无法表达。他的额头挂满了冷汗，可是并不怨天尤人，他的眼睛润湿着，但却是向着天空的。时钟的针继续向前走着。手枪的保险机已打开了。他伸出手去，拿起了一支，喃喃地念着女儿的名字。然后他又放下了这致命的武器，拿起笔，写了几个字。他似乎象是和他那心爱的女儿还告别得不够似的。然后他又把目光盯到了时钟上，他不再计算分数了，而是以秒数来计算了。他又拿起了那致命的武器，他的嘴是半张着，他的眼睛盯在时钟上，当他想到扳动枪机时那格的一声时，不禁打了一个寒颤。这时，一片冷汗湿透了他的额头，一阵要命的剧痛咬着他的心。他听到了楼梯口那扇门的铰链的转动声，时钟轧轧地响了几声，预示要敲十一点了，突然办公室的门开了。莫雷尔没有转身，他在等待着柯克莱斯说这几个字：“汤姆生·弗伦奇银行代表到。”他已把手枪的枪口放在了牙齿中间。突然他听到一声大喊，这是他女儿的喊声。他转过身来，看见了尤莉的枪掉了下来。 
“父亲！”年轻姑娘大声喊道，她欢喜得几乎喘不过气来了，“得救了，你得救啦！”她扑到了他的怀里，一只手高高地举着一只红丝织成的钱袋。 
“得救，我的孩子！”莫雷尔诧异地问道，“你在说什么？” 
“是的，得救啦，得救啦！看，快看呀！”年轻姑娘说道。 
莫雷尔接过钱袋，微微吃了一惊，因为他朦胧地记得，这只钱袋一度是属于他自己的。钱袋的一端缚着那张二十八万七千五百法郎的期票，期票虽然是已经签收了的，另一端则系着一颗榛子般大的钻石，还附有一张羊皮纸的字条，上面写着：“尤莉的嫁妆。” 
莫雷尔用手抹了一下额头，他觉得这似乎是一个梦。正当这时，时钟连敲了十一下，这震颤的声音直穿进他的身体，每一下都象是一把锤子敲在他的心上一样。“快说，我的孩子。” 
他说，“快说说！这个钱袋你是在哪儿找到的？” 
“在梅朗巷十五号六层楼上的一个小房间的壁炉架上找到的。” 
“可是，”莫雷尔大声说道，“这个钱袋不是你的呀！” 
尤莉把早晨收到的那封信交给了父亲。 
“你是单独一个人去的吗？”莫雷尔读了信以后问道。 
“艾曼纽陪我去的，父亲。他本来说好在穆萨街的拐角上等我的，但说来奇怪，我回来的时候他不在那儿了。” 
“莫雷尔先生！”这时楼梯上有一个声音喊道，“莫雷尔先生！” 
“这是他的声音！”尤莉说道。这时艾曼纽已走了进来，他的脸上洋溢着兴奋色彩。“法老号！”他喊道，法老号！” 
“什么！什么！法老号！你疯了吗，艾曼纽？你知道那艘船已经沉没了。” 
“法老号，先生！他们发出的信号是法老号！法老号进港了！” 
莫雷尔倒在他的椅子里。他浑身无力，他的理智无法接受这种闻所未闻，令人难以相信的，不可思议的事。这时他的儿子进来了。 
“父亲！”马西米兰喊道，“你怎么说法老号已沉没呢？了望塔上已经得到了它的信号，他们说它现在正在进港。” 
“我亲爱的朋友们！”莫雷尔说道，“假如的确如此，这一定是上天的一个奇迹，太不可能！太不可能了！” 
但真实而同样令人难以相信的，是他手中所握着的那只钱袋，那张签收了的期票，那光彩夺目的钻石。 
“啊，先生！”柯克莱斯喊道，“那是怎么回事，法老号？” 
“来吧，我亲爱的孩子们，”莫雷尔站起身来说，“我们去看看吧，假如这个消息是假的，愿苍天可怜我们！” 
他们都走出去，在楼梯上遇到了莫雷尔夫人，莫雷尔夫人实在怕到办公室来。一会儿，他们便到了卡尼般丽街。这时码头上已聚满了人。人们都让路给莫雷尔。“法老号！法老号！” 
每一个声音都这样说。 
说来奇怪，在圣·琪安了望塔前面，有一艘帆船的尾部用白漆漆着这些字样：“法老号（马赛莫雷尔父子公司）”，它简直和原先那艘法老号一模一样，而且是满载着货物，大概还是装着洋红和靛青。它抛了锚，收了所有的帆，甲板上是茄马特船长在那儿发号施令，而佩尼隆正在向莫雷尔先生打旗语。再也不容怀疑了！眼前亲眼所见，亲耳所闻的事是真实的。而且一万余人都在场当见证人。莫雷尔父子在岸上激动地拥抱起来，市民们望着这奇迹都在欢呼鼓掌，这时，有一个留着一脸黑胡须的男子，正躲在一处哨兵的岗亭里，望着这个令人激动的场面，低声说道：“快乐吧，高贵的心呀！愿上帝祝福您所做的和将要做的种种善事，让我的感激和您的恩惠都深藏不露吧！” 
于是，带着一个愉快的微笑，他离开那隐身的地方，神不知鬼不觉地走下一侧岸边的便梯，高呼三声：“雅格布！雅格布！雅格布！”于是一艘小艇向岸边划来，接他上了船，送他到了一艘豪华的游艇旁边，他象一个水手那样灵活地跃上游艇的甲板，从那儿再回过身来望了一眼莫雷尔，只见莫雷尔正欢喜得热泪盈眶，正在极其亲热地和他周围的人一一握手，并以感激的目光望着天空，似乎想在天上寻觅那不可知的造福者似的。 
“现在，”那位无名客说道，“永别了，仁慈，人道和感激！永别了，一切高贵的情意，我已代天报答了善人。现在复仇之神授于我以权力，命我去惩罚恶人！”随着这些话，他发出一个信号，而象是就只等待这个信号似的，游艇立刻向港外开去了。
Chapter 31 Italy: Sinbad the Sailor
 TOWARDS THE BEGINNING of the year 1838, two young men belonging to the first society of Paris, the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d'Epinay, were at Florence. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year, and that Franz, who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy, should act as cicerone to Albert. 
As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome, especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo, or the Campo Vaccino, they wrote to Signor Pastrini, the proprietor of the H?tel de Londres, Piazza di Spagna, to reserve comfortable apartments for them. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a parlor on the third floor, which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem. They accepted his offer; but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left, Albert started for Naples. As for Franz, he remained at Florence, and after having passed a few days in exploring the paradise of the Cascine, and spending two or three evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility, he took a fancy into his head (having already visited Corsica, the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba, the waiting-place of Napoleon. 
One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn, wrapped himself in his coat and lay down, and said to the crew,--"To the Island of Elba!" The boat shot out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at Porto-Ferrajo. He traversed the island, after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left, and re-embarked for Marciana. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa, where he was assured that red partridges abounded. The sport was bad; Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges, and, like every unsuccessful sportsman, he returned to the boat very much out of temper. "Ah, if your excellency chose," said the captain, "you might have capital sport." 
"Where?" 
"Do you see that island?" continued the captain, pointing to a conical pile rising from the indigo sea. 
"Well, what is this island?" 
"The Island of Monte Cristo." 
"But I have no permission to shoot over this island." 
"Your excellency does not require a permit, for the island is uninhabited." 
"Ah, indeed!" said the young man. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity." 
"It is very natural; this island is a mass of rocks, and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation." 
"To whom does this island belong?" 
"To Tuscany." 
"What game shall I find there!" 
"Thousands of wild goats." 
"Who live upon the stones, I suppose," said Franz with an incredulous smile. 
"No, but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks." 
"Where can I sleep?" 
"On shore in the grottos, or on board in your cloak; besides, if your excellency pleases, we can leave as soon as you like--we can sail as well by night as by day, and if the wind drops we can use our oars." 
As Franz had sufficient time, and his apartments at Rome were not yet available, he accepted the proposition. Upon his answer in the affirmative, the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. "Well," asked he, "what now? Is there any difficulty in the way?" 
"No." replied the captain, "but we must warn your excellency that the island is an infected port." 
"What do you mean?" 
"Monte Cristo although uninhabited, yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica, Sardinia, and Africa, and if it becomes known that we have been there, we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn." 
"The deuce! That puts a different face on the matter. Six days! Why, that's as long as the Almighty took to make the world! Too long a wait--too long." 
"But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?" 
"Oh, I shall not," cried Franz. 
"Nor I, nor I," chorused the sailors. 
"Then steer for Monte Cristo." 
The captain gave his orders, the helm was put up, and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. Franz waited until all was in order, and when the sail was filled, and the four sailors had taken their places--three forward, and one at the helm--he resumed the conversation. "Gaetano," said he to the captain, "you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates, who are, it seems to me, a very different kind of game from the goats." 
"Yes, your excellency, and it is true." 
"I knew there were smugglers, but I thought that since the capture of Algiers, and the destruction of the regency, pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat." 
"Your excellency is mistaken; there are pirates, like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII., and who yet, every day, rob travellers at the gates of Rome. Has not your excellency heard that the French chargé d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?" 
"Oh, yes, I heard that." 
"Well, then, if, like us, your excellency lived at Leghorn, you would hear, from time to time, that a little merchant vessel, or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia, at Porto-Ferrajo, or at Civita Vecchia, has not arrived; no one knows what has become of it, but, doubtless, it has struck on a rock and foundered. Now this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat, manned by six or eight men, who have surprised and plundered it, some dark and stormy night, near some desert and gloomy island, as bandits plunder a carriage in the recesses of a forest." 
"But," asked Franz, who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the boat, "why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French, Sardinian, or Tuscan governments?" 
"Why?" said Gaetano with a smile. 
"Yes, why?" 
"Because, in the first place, they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking, then they bind the crew hand and foot, they attach to every one's neck a four and twenty pound ball, a large hole is chopped in the vessel's bottom, and then they leave her. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle down. First one gun'l goes under, then the other. Then they lift and sink again, and both go under at once. All at once there's a noise like a cannon--that's the air blowing up the deck. Soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting, the vessel gives a last groan, spins round and round, and disappears, forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean, and then all is over, so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the sea. Do you understand now," said the captain, "why no complaints are made to the government, and why the vessel never reaches port?" 
It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition, Franz would have hesitated, but now that they had started, he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger, but if danger presents itself, combat it with the most unalterable coolness. Calm and resolute, he treated any peril as he would an adversary in a duel,--calculated its probable method of approach; retreated, if at all, as a point of strategy and not from cowardice; was quick to see an opening for attack, and won victory at a single thrust. "Bah!" said he, "I have travelled through Sicily and Calabria--I have sailed two months in the Archipelago, and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate." 
"I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project," replied Gaetano, "but you questioned me, and I have answered; that's all." 
"Yes, and your conversation is most interesting; and as I wish to enjoy it as long as possible, steer for Monte Cristo." 
The wind blew strongly, the boat made six or seven knots an hour, and they were rapidly reaching the end of their voyage. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the sea, and the air was so clear that they could already distinguish the rocks heaped on one another, like cannon balls in an arsenal, with green bushes and trees growing in the crevices. As for the sailors, although they appeared perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the alert, and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing, and on which a few fishing-boats, with their white sails, were alone visible. They were within fifteen miles of Monte Cristo when the sun began to set behind Corsica, whose mountains appeared against the sky, showing their rugged peaks in bold relief; this mass of rock, like the giant Adamastor, rose dead ahead, a formidable barrier, and intercepting the light that gilded its massive peaks so that the voyagers were in shadow. Little by little the shadow rose higher and seemed to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day; at last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain, where it paused an instant, like the fiery crest of a volcano, then gloom gradually covered the summit as it had covered the base, and the island now only appeared to be a gray mountain that grew continually darker; half an hour after, the night was quite dark. 
Fortunately, the mariners were used to these latitudes, and knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago; for in the midst of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness--Corsica had long since disappeared, and Monte Cristo itself was invisible; but the sailors seemed, like the lynx, to see in the dark, and the pilot who steered did not evince the slightest hesitation. An hour had passed since the sun had set, when Franz fancied he saw, at a quarter of a mile to the left, a dark mass, but he could not precisely make out what it was, and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors by mistaking a floating cloud for land, he remained silent; suddenly a great light appeared on the strand; land might resemble a cloud, but the fire was not a meteor. "What is this light?" asked he. 
"Hush!" said the captain; "it is a fire." 
"But you told me the island was uninhabited?" 
"l said there were no fixed habitations on it, but I said also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers." "And for pirates?" 
"And for pirates," returned Gaetano, repeating Franz's words. "It is for that reason I have given orders to pass the island, for, as you see, the fire is behind us." 
"But this fire?" continued Franz. "It seems to me rather reassuring than otherwise; men who did not wish to be seen would not light a fire." 
"Oh, that goes for nothing," said Gaetano. "If you can guess the position of the island in the darkness, you will see that the fire cannot be seen from the side or from Pianosa, but only from the sea." 
"You think, then, this fire indicates the presence of unpleasant neighbors?" 
"That is what we must find out," returned Gaetano, fixing his eyes on this terrestrial star. 
"How can you find out?" 
"You shall see." Gaetano consulted with his companions, and after five minutes' discussion a manoeuvre was executed which caused the vessel to tack about, they returned the way they had come, and in a few minutes the fire disappeared, hidden by an elevation of the land. The pilot again changed the course of the boat, which rapidly approached the island, and was soon within fifty paces of it. Gaetano lowered the sail, and the boat came to rest. All this was done in silence, and from the moment that their course was changed not a word was spoken. 
Gaetano, who had proposed the expedition, had taken all the responsibility on himself; the four sailors fixed their eyes on him, while they got out their oars and held themselves in readiness to row away, which, thanks to the darkness, would not be difficult. As for Franz, he examined his arms with the utmost coolness; he had two double-barrelled guns and a rifle; he loaded them, looked at the priming, and waited quietly. During this time the captain had thrown off his vest and shirt, and secured his trousers round his waist; his feet were naked, so he had no shoes and stockings to take off; after these preparations he placed his finger on his lips, and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea, swam towards the shore with such precaution that it was impossible to hear the slightest sound; he could only be traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. This track soon disappeared; it was evident that he had touched the shore. Every one on board remained motionless for half an hour, when the same luminous track was again observed, and the swimmer was soon on board. "Well?" exclaimed Franz and the sailors in unison. 
"They are Spanish smugglers," said he; "they have with them two Corsican bandits." 
"And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish smugglers?" 
"Alas," returned the captain with an accent of the most profound pity, "we ought always to help one another. Very often the bandits are hard pressed by gendarmes or carbineers; well, they see a vessel, and good fellows like us on board, they come and demand hospitality of us; you can't refuse help to a poor hunted devil; we receive them, and for greater security we stand out to sea. This costs us nothing, and saves the life, or at least the liberty, of a fellow-creature, who on the first occasion returns the service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our goods without interruption." 
"Ah!" said Franz, "then you are a smuggler occasionally, Gaetano?" 
"Your excellency, we must live somehow," returned the other, smiling impenetrably. 
"Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?" 
"Oh, yes, we sailors are like freemasons, and recognize each other by signs." 
"And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?" 
"Nothing at all; smugglers are not thieves." 
"But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz, calculating the chances of peril. 
"It is not their fault that they are bandits, but that of the authorities." 
"How so?" 
"Because they are pursued for having made a stiff, as if it was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself." 
"What do you mean by having made a stiff?--having assassinated a man?" said Franz, continuing his investigation. 
"I mean that they have killed an enemy, which is a very different thing," returned the captain. 
"Well," said the young man, "let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits. Do you think they will grant it?" 
"Without doubt." 
"How many are they?" 
"Four, and the two bandits make six." 
"Just our number, so that if they prove troublesome, we shall be able to hold them in check; so, for the last time, steer to Monte Cristo." 
"Yes, but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions." 
"By all means, be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses; I do more than permit, I exhort you." 
"Silence, then!" said Gaetano. 
Every one obeyed. For a man who, like Franz, viewed his position in its true light, it was a grave one. He was alone in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know, and who had no reason to be devoted to him; who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt, and who had often examined his weapons,--which were very beautiful,--if not with envy, at least with curiosity. On the other hand, he was about to land, without any other escort than these men, on an island which had, indeed, a very religious name, but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The history of the scuttled vessels, which had appeared improbable during the day, seemed very probable at night; placed as he was between two possible sources of danger, he kept his eye on the crew, and his gun in his hand. The sailors had again hoisted sail, and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose eyes were now more accustomed to it, could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing, and then, as they rounded a rocky point, he saw the fire more brilliant than ever, and about it five or six persons seated. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around. Gaetano skirted the light, carefully keeping the boat in the shadow; then, when they were opposite the fire, he steered to the centre of the circle, singing a fishing song, of which his companions sung the chorus. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing-place, their eyes fixed on the boat, evidently seeking to know who the new-comers were and what were their intentions. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one, who remained at the shore) to their fire, at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore, the man on the beach, who carried a carbine, presented arms after the manner of a sentinel, and cried, "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand, but which evidently concerned him. "Will your excellency give your name, or remain incognito?" asked the captain. 
"My name must rest unknown,--merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer, the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire, who rose and disappeared among the rocks. Not a word was spoken, every one seemed occupied, Franz with his disembarkment, the sailors with their sails, the smugglers with their goat; but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left; he made a sign with his head to the sentinel, who, turning to the boat, said, "S'accommodi." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable; it means at once, "Come, enter, you are welcome; make yourself at home; you are the master." It is like that Turkish phrase of Molière's that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its utterance. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation; four strokes of the oar brought them to land; Gaetano sprang to shore, exchanged a few words with the sentinel, then his comrades disembarked, and lastly came Franz. One of his guns was swung over his shoulder, Gaetano had the other, and a sailor held his rifle; his dress, half artist, half dandy, did not excite any suspicion, and, consequently, no disquietude. The boat was moored to the shore, and they advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac; but, doubtless, the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel, for he cried out, "Not that way, if you please." 
Gaetano faltered an excuse, and advanced to the opposite side, while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way. They advanced about thirty paces, and then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks, in which seats had been cut, not unlike sentry-boxes. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. Franz lowered a torch, and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the first to discover this retreat, which was, doubtless, one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. As for his suspicions, once on terra firma, once that he had seen the indifferent, if not friendly, appearance of his hosts, his anxiety had quite disappeared, or rather, at sight of the goat, had turned to appetite. He mentioned this to Gaetano, who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat, bread, wine, half a dozen partridges, and a good fire to roast them by. "Besides," added he, "if the smell of their roast meat tempts you, I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice." 
"You are a born diplomat," returned Franz; "go and try." 
Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches with which they made a fire. Franz waited impatiently, inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat, when the captain returned with a mysterious air. 
"Well," said Franz, "anything new?--do they refuse?" 
"On the contrary," returned Gaetano, "the chief, who was told you were a young Frenchman, invites you to sup with him." 
"Well," observed Franz, "this chief is very polite, and I see no objection--the more so as I bring my share of the supper." 
"Oh, it is not that; he has plenty, and to spare, for supper; but he makes one condition, and rather a peculiar one, before he will receive you at his house." 
"His house? Has he built one here, then?" 
"No; but he has a very comfortable one all the same, so they say." 
"You know this chief, then?" 
"I have heard talk of him." 
"Favorably or otherwise?" 
"Both." 
"The deuce!--and what is this condition?" 
"That you are blindfolded, and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you." Franz looked at Gaetano, to see, if possible, what he thought of this proposal. "Ah," replied he, guessing Franz's thought, "I know this is a serious matter." 
"What should you do in my place?" 
"I, who have nothing to lose,--I should go." 
"You would accept?" 
"Yes, were it only out of curiosity." 
"There is something very peculiar about this chief, then?" 
"Listen," said Gaetano, lowering his voice, "I do not know if what they say is true"--he stopped to see if any one was near. 
"What do they say?" 
"That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing." 
"What nonsense!" said Franz, reseating himself. 
"It is no nonsense; it is quite true. Cama, the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand, went in once, and he came back amazed, vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales." 
"Do you know," observed Franz, "that with such stories you make me think of Ali Baba's enchanted cavern?" 
"I tell you what I have been told." 
"Then you advise me to accept?" 
"Oh, I don't say that; your excellency will do as you please; I should be sorry to advise you in the matter." Franz pondered the matter for a few moments, concluded that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had, and seeing only the prospect of a good supper, accepted. Gaetano departed with the reply. Franz was prudent, and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host. He turned towards the sailor, who, during this dialogue, had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office, and asked him how these men had landed, as no vessel of any kind was visible. 
"Never mind that," returned the sailor, "I know their vessel." 
"Is it a very beautiful vessel?" 
"I would not wish for a better to sail round the world." 
"Of what burden is she?" 
"About a hundred tons; but she is built to stand any weather. She is what the English call a yacht." 
"Where was she built?" 
"I know not; but my own opinion is she is a Genoese." 
"And how did a leader of smugglers," continued Franz, "venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?" 
"I did not say that the owner was a smuggler," replied the sailor. 
"No; but Gaetano did, I thought." 
"Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance, he had not then spoken to any one." 
"And if this person be not a smuggler, who is he?" 
"A wealthy signor, who travels for his pleasure." 
"Come," thought Franz, "he is still more mysterious, since the two accounts do not agree." 
"What is his name?" 
"If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor; but I doubt if it be his real name." 
"Sinbad the Sailor?" 
"Yes." 
"And where does he reside?" 
"On the sea." 
"What country does he come from?" 
"I do not know." 
"Have you ever seen him?" 
"Sometimes." 
"What sort of a man is he?" 
"Your excellency will judge for yourself." 
"Where will he receive me?" 
"No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of." 
"Have you never had the curiosity, when you have landed and found this island deserted, to seek for this enchanted palace?" 
"Oh, yes, more than once, but always in vain; we examined the grotto all over, but we never could find the slightest trace of any opening; they say that the door is not opened by a key, but a magic word." 
"Decidedly," muttered Franz, "this is an Arabian Nights' adventure." 
"His excellency waits for you," said a voice, which he recognized as that of the sentinel. He was accompanied by two of the yacht's crew. Franz drew his handkerchief from his pocket, and presented it to the man who had spoken to him. Without uttering a word, they bandaged his eyes with a care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some indiscretion. Afterwards he was made to promise that he would not make the least attempt to raise the bandage. He promised. Then his two guides took his arms, and he went on, guided by them, and preceded by the sentinel. After going about thirty paces, he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid that was roasting, and knew thus that he was passing the bivouac; they then led him on about fifty paces farther, evidently advancing towards that part of the shore where they would not allow Gaetano to go--a refusal he could now comprehend. Presently, by a change in the atmosphere, he knew that they were entering a cave; after going on for a few seconds more he heard a crackling, and it seemed to him as though the atmosphere again changed, and became balmy and perfumed. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft carpet, and his guides let go their hold of him. There was a moment's silence, and then a voice, in excellent French, although, with a foreign accent, said, "Welcome, sir. I beg you will remove your bandage." It may be supposed, then, Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission, but took off the handkerchief, and found himself in the presence of a man from thirty-eight to forty years of age, dressed in a Tunisian costume--that is to say, a red cap with a long blue silk tassel, a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold, pantaloons of deep red, large and full gaiters of the same color, embroidered with gold like the vest, and yellow slippers; he had a splendid cashmere round his waist, and a small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his girdle. Although of a paleness that was almost livid, this man had a remarkably handsome face; his eyes were penetrating and sparkling; his nose, quite straight, and projecting direct from the brow, was of the pure Greek type, while his teeth, as white as pearls, were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. 
His pallor was so peculiar, that it seemed to pertain to one who had been long entombed, and who was incapable of resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. He was not particularly tall, but extremely well made, and, like the men of the south, had small hands and feet. But what astonished Franz, who had treated Gaetano's description as a fable, was the splendor of the apartment in which he found himself. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade, worked with flowers of gold. In a recess was a kind of divan, surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards, and the handles resplendent with gems; from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass, of beautiful shape and color, while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet, in which they sunk to the instep; tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered, and also in front of another door, leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise, and, moreover, returned look for look, not even taking his eyes off him. "Sir," he said, after a pause, "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither; but as, during the greater portion of the year, this island is deserted, if the secret of this abode were discovered. I should doubtless, find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder, which would be exceedingly annoying, not for the loss it occasioned me, but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness, and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here--that is to say, a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds." 
"Ma foi, my dear sir," replied Franz, "make no apologies. I have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces, for instance, those of Raoul in the Huguenots, and really I have nothing to complain of, for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the Arabian Nights." 
"Alas, I may say with Lucullus, if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit, I would have prepared for it. But such as is my hermitage, it is at your disposal; such as is my supper, it is yours to share, if you will. Ali, is the supper ready?" 
At this moment the tapestry moved aside, and a Nubian, black as ebony, and dressed in a plain white tunic, made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. 
"Now," said the unknown to Franz, "I do not know if you are of my opinion, but I think nothing is more annoying than to remain two or three hours together without knowing by name or appellation how to address one another. Pray observe, that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing you. As for myself, that I may put you at your ease, I tell you that I am generally called 'Sinbad the Sailor.'" 
"And I," replied Franz, "will tell you, as I only require his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin, that I see no reason why at this moment I should not be called Aladdin. That will keep us from going away from the East whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some good genius." 
"Well, then, Signor Aladdin," replied the singular amphitryon, "you heard our repast announced, will you now take the trouble to enter the dining-room, your humble servant going first to show the way?" 
At these words, moving aside the tapestry, Sinbad preceded his guest. Franz now looked upon another scene of enchantment; the table was splendidly covered, and once convinced of this important point he cast his eyes around him. The dining-room was scarcely less striking than the room he had just left; it was entirely of marble, with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value; and at the four corners of this apartment, which was oblong, were four magnificent statues, having baskets in their hands. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit; there were Sicily pine-apples, pomegranates from Malaga, oranges from the Balearic Isles, peaches from France, and dates from Tunis. 
The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with Corsican blackbirds; a boar's ham with jelly, a quarter of a kid with tartar sauce, a glorious turbot, and a gigantic lobster. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. The dishes were of silver, and the plates of Japanese china. 
Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this was not a dream. Ali alone was present to wait at table, and acquitted himself so admirably, that the guest complimented his host thereupon. "Yes," replied he, while he did the honors of the supper with much ease and grace--"yes, he is a poor devil who is much devoted to me, and does all he can to prove it. He remembers that I saved his life, and as he has a regard for his head, he feels some gratitude towards me for having kept it on his shoulders." Ali approached his master, took his hand, and kissed it. 
"Would it be impertinent, Signor Sinbad," said Franz, "to ask you the particulars of this kindness?" 
"Oh, they are simple enough," replied the host. "It seems the fellow had been caught wandering nearer to the harem of the Bey of Tunis than etiquette permits to one of his color, and he was condemned by the bey to have his tongue cut out, and his hand and head cut off; the tongue the first day, the hand the second, and the head the third. I always had a desire to have a mute in my service, so learning the day his tongue was cut out, I went to the bey, and proposed to give him for Ali a splendid double-barreled gun which I knew he was very desirous of having. He hesitated a moment, he was so very desirous to complete the poor devil's punishment. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces, the bey yielded, and agreed to forgive the hand and head, but on condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in Tunis. This was a useless clause in the bargain, for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa, he runs down below, and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the globe." 
Franz remained a moment silent and pensive, hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness, half-cruelty, with which his host related the brief narrative. "And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed," he said, by way of changing the conversation, "you pass your life in travelling?" 
"Yes. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it," said the unknown with a singular smile; "and I made some others also which I hope I may fulfil in due season." Although Sinbad pronounced these words with much calmness, his eyes gave forth gleams of extraordinary ferocity. 
"You have suffered a great deal, sir?" said Franz inquiringly. 
Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him, as he replied, "What makes you suppose so?" 
"Everything," answered Franz,--"your voice, your look, your pallid complexion, and even the life you lead." 
"I?--I live the happiest life possible, the real life of a pasha. I am king of all creation. I am pleased with one place, and stay there; I get tired of it, and leave it; I am free as a bird and have wings like one; my attendants obey my slightest wish. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law. Then I have my mode of dispensing justice, silent and sure, without respite or appeal, which condemns or pardons, and which no one sees. Ah, if you had tasted my life, you would not desire any other, and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there." 
"Revenge, for instance!" observed Franz. 
The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts. "And why revenge?" he asked. 
"Because," replied Franz, "you seem to me like a man who, persecuted by society, has a fearful account to settle with it." 
"Ah," responded Sinbad, laughing with his singular laugh which displayed his white and sharp teeth. "You have not guessed rightly. Such as you see me I am, a sort of philosopher, and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival Monsieur Appert, and the little man in the blue cloak." 
"And will that be the first time you ever took that journey?" 
"Yes; it will. I must seem to you by no means curious, but I assure you that it is not my fault I have delayed it so long--it will happen one day or the other." 
"And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?" 
"I do not know; it depends on circumstances which depend on certain arrangements." 
"I should like to be there at the time you come, and I will endeavor to repay you, as far as lies in my power, for your liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte Cristo." 
"I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure," replied the host, "but, unfortunately, if I go there, it will be, in all probability, incognito." 
The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz, for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. Then Ali brought on the dessert, or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a silver cover. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz's curiosity. He raised the cover and saw a kind of greenish paste, something like preserved angelica, but which was perfectly unknown to him. He replaced the lid, as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he had looked at it, and then casting his eyes towards his host he saw him smile at his disappointment. "You cannot guess," said he, "what there is in that small vase, can you?" 
"No, I really cannot." 
"Well, then, that green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter." 
"But," replied Franz, "this ambrosia, no doubt, in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and assumed a human name; in vulgar phrase, what may you term this composition, for which, to tell the truth, I do not feel any particular desire?" 
"Ah, thus it is that our material origin is revealed," cried Sinbad; "we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing, without regarding it, or if we do see and regard it, yet without recognizing it. Are you a man for the substantials, and is gold your god? taste this, and the mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are you a man of imagination--a poet? taste this, and the boundaries of possibility disappear; the fields of infinite space open to you, you advance free in heart, free in mind, into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. Are you ambitious, and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France, Spain, or England, but king of the world, king of the universe, king of creation; without bowing at the feet of Satan, you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth. Is it not tempting what I offer you, and is it not an easy thing, since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the substance so lauded, took a teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat, raised it to his lips, and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat, but when he had finished, he inquired,--"What, then, is this precious stuff?" 
"Did you ever hear," he replied, "of the Old Man of the Mountain, who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?" 
"Of course I have." 
"Well, you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah, and in these gardens isolated pavilions. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect, and there, says Marco Polo, gave them to eat a certain herb, which transported them to Paradise, in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs, ever-ripe fruit, and ever-lovely virgins. What these happy persons took for reality was but a dream; but it was a dream so soft, so voluptuous, so enthralling, that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them, and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity, struck down the designated victim, died in torture without a murmur, believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb, now before you had given them a slight foretaste." 
"Then," cried Franz, "it is hashish! I know that--by name at least." 
"That is it precisely, Signor Aladdin; it is hashish--the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria,--the hashish of Abou-Gor, the celebrated maker, the only man, the man to whom there should be built a palace, inscribed with these words, 'A grateful world to the dealer in happiness.'" 
"Do you know," said Franz, "I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies." 
"Judge for yourself, Signor Aladdin--judge, but do not confine yourself to one trial. Like everything else, we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression, gentle or violent, sad or joyous. There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance,--in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. Nature subdued must yield in the combat, the dream must succeed to reality, and then the dream reigns supreme, then the dream becomes life, and life becomes the dream. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence, that you would desire to live no longer, but to dream thus forever. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter--to quit paradise for earth--heaven for hell! Taste the hashish, guest of mine--taste the hashish." 
Franz's only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the marvellous preparation, about as much in quantity as his host had eaten, and lift it to his mouth. 
"Diable!" he said, after having swallowed the divine preserve. "I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe, but the thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say." 
"Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the sublimity of the substances it flavors. Tell me, the first time you tasted oysters, tea, porter, truffles, and sundry other dainties which you now adore, did you like them? Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida, and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh? no! Well, it is the same with hashish; only eat for a week, and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor, which now appears to you flat and distasteful. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber, which is your apartment, and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes." They both arose, and while he who called himself Sinbad--and whom we have occasionally named so, that we might, like his guest, have some title by which to distinguish him--gave some orders to the servant, Franz entered still another apartment. It was simply yet richly furnished. It was round, and a large divan completely encircled it. Divan, walls, ceiling, floor, were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets; there were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas, striped tiger-skins from Bengal; panther-skins from the Cape, spotted beautifully, like those that appeared to Dante; bear-skins from Siberia, fox-skins from Norway, and so on; and all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other, so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf, or reclining on the most luxurious bed. Both laid themselves down on the divan; chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach, and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. Each of them took one, which Ali lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. There was a moment's silence, during which Sinbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly, even in the midst of his conversation; and Franz abandoned himself to that mute revery, into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco, which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind, and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. Ali brought in the coffee. 
"How do you take it?" inquired the unknown; "in the French or Turkish style, strong or weak, sugar or none, cool or boiling? As you please; it is ready in all ways." 
"I will take it in the Turkish style," replied Franz. 
"And you are right," said his host; "it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. Ah, those Orientals; they are the only men who know how to live. As for me," he added, with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man, "when I have completed my affairs in Paris, I shall go and die in the East; and should you wish to see me again, you must seek me at Cairo, Bagdad, or Ispahan." 
"Ma foi!" said Franz, "it would be the easiest thing in the world; for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my shoulders, and with those wings I could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours." 
"Ah, yes, the hashish is beginning its work. Well, unfurl your wings, and fly into superhuman regions; fear nothing, there is a watch over you; and if your wings, like those of Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to ease your fall." He then said something in Arabic to Ali, who made a sign of obedience and withdrew, but not to any distance. As to Franz a strange transformation had taken place in him. All the bodily fatigue of the day, all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep, when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness, his perception brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand; but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms, and which he had seen before he slept, but a blue, transparent, unbounded horizon, with all the blue of the ocean, all the spangles of the sun, all the perfumes of the summer breeze; then, in the midst of the songs of his sailors,--songs so clear and sonorous, that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down,--he saw the Island of Monte Cristo, no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves, but as an oasis in the desert; then, as his boat drew nearer, the songs became louder, for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven, as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither, or Amphion, the enchanter, intended there to build a city. 
At length the boat touched the shore, but without effort, without shock, as lips touch lips; and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. He descended, or rather seemed to descend, several steps, inhaling the fresh and balmy air, like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe, formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming, and such fires as burn the very senses; and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep, from Sinbad, his singular host, to Ali, the mute attendant; then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes, like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished, and he was again in the chamber of statues, lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. They were the same statues, rich in form, in attraction. and poesy, with eyes of fascination, smiles of love, and bright and flowing hair. They were Phryne, Cleopatra, Messalina, those three celebrated courtesans. Then among them glided like a pure ray, like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus, one of those chaste figures, those calm shadows, those soft visions, which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love, and approached the couch on which he was reposing, their feet hidden in their long white tunics, their throats bare, hair flowing like waves, and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist, but which saints withstood, and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird; and then he gave way before looks that held him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a voluptuous kiss. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes, and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled; and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect. Lips of stone turned to flame, breasts of ice became like heated lava, so that to Franz, yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug, love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture, as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips, and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces. The more he strove against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded to its thrall, and at length, weary of a struggle that taxed his very soul, he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses, and the enchantment of his marvellous dream.  
一八三八年初，巴黎上流社会的两个青年，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫子爵和弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵，到了佛罗伦萨。他们约定好了来观看那一年的罗马狂欢节，弗兰兹事先说定充当阿尔贝的向导，因为他最近这三四年来一直住在意大利。在罗马度狂欢节不是一件轻而易举的事，尤其是如果你不愿意在呸布尔广场或凡西诺广场上过夜。所以他们写信给爱斯巴广场伦敦旅馆的老板派里尼，吩咐为他们保留几个舒适的房间。派里尼老板回信说，他只有两间寝室和一间内房，在三楼上，租金很低廉，每天只要一个路易。他们接受了这个条件，但为了尽可能好好地利用空暇的时间，阿尔贝就动身到那不勒斯去游览。而弗兰兹则留在佛罗伦萨。在这儿过了几天以后，他去过那家叫卡西诺的俱乐部，并且在佛罗伦萨的几家贵族家里过了两三个夜晚，在他访问了波拿巴的摇篮科西嘉以后，他忽然想去访问一下拿破仑的监禁地厄尔巴岛。 
一天傍晚，他解开一艘拴在里窝那港内铁环上的小船，跳到船上，用他的披风裹住身体，在船里躺下，对船员们说：“开到厄尔巴岛去！”小船就飞也似的驶出了港口，第二天早晨，弗兰兹便在费拉约港弃舟登岸。在沿着那位巨人所留下的足迹走过一遍以后，他又在岛上游览了一番，然后重新上船，向马西亚纳驶去。两小时以后，他在皮亚诺扎上岸，他曾听人煞有介事地说过，那儿到处都是红色的鹧鸪。但打猎的成绩却不佳，他只打下来几只鹧鸪，于是他如同每一个失败的猎人一样，回到船上就大发脾气。 
“啊，如果大人愿意，”船长说，“您可以找到一个绝对好的地方打猎。” 
“在哪儿？” 
“您看见那个岛了吗？”船长指着耸立在蔚蓝色的海面上一片圆锥形状的岛屿说。 
“嗯，这是什么岛？” 
“基督山岛。” 
“可是我没有在这个岛上打猎的许可证呀。” 
“大人不必要许可证，因为那个岛上没人居住。” 
“啊，真的！”青年说，“地中海上竟有一个荒岛，真是一件怪事。” 
“这是很自然，小岛上是一大堆岩石，岛上没有一亩可耕的土地。” 
“这个岛归属哪个国家？” 
“属于托斯卡纳。” 
“那儿可以打到什么？” 
“数不尽的野山羊。” 
“我想它们大概是靠舔石头过日子吧。”弗兰兹怀疑地笑了笑说。 
“不，石缝里可以长出小树，它们可以啃嫩叶吃。” 
“我睡在哪儿呢？” 
“岸上的岩洞，或者裹上披风睡在船上，而且，要是大人高兴的话，我们可以打完猎以后马上就走。我们夜里白天都一样能航行，如果风停了，我们可以用桨。” 
弗兰兹觉得和他同伴会聚的日子还早，而且在罗马的寓所也没什么别的麻烦，所以他就接受了这个建议。一听说他同意了，水手们就互相低语了几句。“喂，”他问道，“怎么？还有什么困难吗？” 
“不？”船长答道。“但我们得告诉大人知道，那个岛很不安全。” 
“这是什么意思？” 
“就是，基督山虽然没有人在上面住，但偶尔也被走私贩子和海盗用作避难所，他们都是从科西嘉、撒丁，或是非洲来的。假如有人告我们曾到过那儿，那么我们回到里窝那的时候，就得上检疫所扣留六天。” 
“见鬼！那就得好好考虑考虑了！六天正好是上帝创世用的时间。伙计们，这个时间是不是太长了一点。” 
“但谁会去报告大人到过基督山呢？” 
“噢，我肯定不会。”弗兰兹喊道。 
“我也不，我也不！”水手们同声说。 
“那么就转舵向基督山。” 
船长下了几个命令，船头开始朝那个岛调转过去，不多会儿小船便朝着那个方向驶过去。弗兰兹等船一切都调整好，船帆鼓起了风，四个水手站定了位置，三个在船头，一个在船尾，然后又重新接上话头。“盖太诺，”他对船长说，“你跟我说基督山是海盗的一个避难所，我想他们可并不象山羊那么好玩吧。” 
“是大人，话没错。” 
“我知道确实有走私贩子，但我想，自从阿尔及尔被攻克，摄政制度被摧毁以来，海盗只是库柏和玛里亚特上尉的传奇小说中的人物了吧。” 
“大人有所不知，海盗确实有，就象现在还有强盗一样——大家不是都以为强盗已经让教皇利奥十二世灭绝了吗？可是他们天天还在罗马的城门口抢劫来往过客。难道大人没有听说过，六个月前，法国代理公使在离韦莱特里五百步的距离里内被抢的那件事吗？” 
“噢，是的，我听说过。” 
“那么好，如果大人也象我们一样一直生在里窝那，您就会常常听人说，一艘小商船，或是一艘英国游艇，本来是要开到巴斯蒂亚、费拉约港，或契维塔·韦基亚去的，结果却没了影儿。谁也不知道那条船出什么事了，肯定是触到岩石上沉没了。哼，它碰上的这块岩后大概是一艘又长又狭的船，船上有六个人或者八个人，他们趁着一个风高月黑的晚上，不知在哪一个荒凉的小岛附近袭击了它，抢劫了它，就象强盗在一处树林的拐角上抢劫一辆马车一样。” 
“但是，”裹紧了披风躺在小船里的弗兰兹问道，“那些遭抢的人为什么不向法国、撒丁，或是托斯卡纳政府去控告呢？” 
“为什么？”盖太诺微笑起来。 
“是的，为什么？” 
“因为他们先是把帆船上所有他们觉得值得拿的东西都搬到他们自己的小船上，然后把船员的手脚都绑起来，往每个人的脖子上都绑上一个二十四磅重的铁球，在帆船底上凿一个大洞，然后就离开。十分钟以后，帆船就开始前后左右地摇荡起来，然后就向下沉，一会儿往这边倾倒，一会儿又往那一边倾倒。几番沉浮后，突然间放出大炮一样的一声巨响——这是甲板里的空气爆炸了。一会儿，排水孔里就象鲸鱼的喷水口一样喷出水来，帆船最后哼哼一声，打几个转转，就不见了，只在水面上形成了一个大漩涡，于是一切就都完了。仅五分钟之内，只有上帝的眼睛才看得到帆船究竟躺在海底的哪一个角落。现在你明白了，”船长大笑着说，“为什么没有人去向政府去控告，为什么帆船到不了港的原因了吧？” 
要是盖太诺在提议去岛上行猎以前讲了这番话，弗兰兹在接受他的建议时大概会犹豫一下，但是他们现在已经出发了，他认为后退就是示弱。有些人不会轻率地自甘冒险，但假如有危险临头，却能处之泰然，他便是那种人。有些人十分镇定果敢，他们把危险看成是决斗时的敌手，他们琢磨它的动作，研究它的路数，他们的后退不过是为了喘息一下而已，并不是表示懦怯。他们表示捕捉一切于自己有利的地方，而一下置敌人于死地，他也是那种人。“哼！”他说，“我游遍了西西里和卡拉布里亚，我在爱琴海上曾经航行过两个月，什么海盗强盗我连影子都从没见过一个。” 
“我给大人讲多些，并不是要您改变计划，”盖太诺答道，“只是您问到我，我就回答您，如此而已。” 
“是的，我亲爱的盖太诺，你讲这些很有趣，我希望能好好地玩味玩味。往基督山开吧。” 
风势很猛，小船以每小时六七海里的速度前进。他们十分快地接近航行的目的地。当他们接近那个岛的时候，它象是从海底里冒出来的一个庞然大物，透过明净天际下的薄暮余辉，他们辨得出岩石一块一块地堆积在一起，象一座弹药库里的炮弹一样；石缝里则生长着青绿色的灌木和小树。至于水手们，表面上看似十分平静，但显然都十分警惕，小心翼翼的注视着展开在他们前面的玻璃般光洁的海面。海面上只能看到几艘渔船和船上的白帆。当他们离基督山只有十五哩的时候，太阳开始沉落到科西嘉的后面，科西嘉的群山在天空的衬托下划出明晰轮廓，雄劲地呈现出峥嵘的山峰。这座大岩山象巨人亚达麦斯脱似的气势汹汹地俯视着小船，遮住了太阳，而太阳又染红了它的山巅。阴影渐渐从海上升起，好似在驱逐落日的余辉。最后，太阳的余辉驻足在山顶上，在那儿逗留了一会儿，把山顶染得火红，如同一座火山顶。然后，阴影渐渐吞蚀了山顶，象它刚才吞蚀山脚一样，于是整个岛子现在变成了一座灰蒙蒙的山，愈来愈阴沉。半小时后，黑夜就完全笼罩了。 
好在海员们常走这些航线，熟悉托斯卡纳群岛一带的每一块礁石。毕竟在这样的昏黑之中，弗兰兹并不那么镇定自若。科西嘉早已看不见了，基督山也不知隐蔽在了何处，可水手们却象大山猫一样，能暗中识物，并且掌舵人也没有显露出丝毫犹豫。太阳落山后一个钟头了，弗兰兹好象觉得在左侧四分之一哩处看到一大堆黑乎乎的东西，但辨不出到底是什么。 
为了怕把一片浮云错认作陆地而引起水手们的嘲笑，他一直保持着沉默。突然间，那里出现一大片光，陆地或许会象一片云，但火光却不可能是一颗殒星。 
“这片光是什么？”他问。 
“别出声！”船长说，“是火光。” 
“可你告诉我岛上没人住呀！” 
“我说上面没有固定的居民，但我也说过有时它是走私贩子港口。” 
“而且还有海盗？” 
“还有海盗，”盖太诺把弗兰兹的话重复一遍。“就是因为那，我才吩咐驶过那个岛，所以您也可以看到，那片火光现在在我们身后了。” 
“但这个火光，”弗兰兹又说，”在我看来，倒是不必让我们警惕反而应当让我们放心，凡是不想被人发现的人是不会烧火的呀。” 
“噢，这倒不见得，”盖太诺说，”如果您能在黑暗中猜到这个岛的方位，您就会知道，那一片火光从侧面或从皮亚诺扎岛那边看过去是望不见的，只有从海面上才看得到。” 
“那么，你认为这一片火光等于是说有不速之客在岛上吗？” 
“我们正要把这事弄明白。”盖太诺回答，他的眼睛盯着这颗岛上之星。 
“你怎么弄明白呢？” 
“您呆会儿就知道了。” 
盖太诺和他的伙计们开始商量起来。五分钟以后，他们采取了一个行动，把小船掉过头来。他们朝来时的方向转回去，几分钟以后，就不见火光了，一片隆起的高地遮住了它。掌舵人又改变了小帆船的方向，船就急速地向岛子靠拢过去，不久就离岛只有五十步之遥了。盖太诺扯落了船帆，小船就停了下来。所有这一切都在沉默中完成，自从他们改变方向以来，就不曾再说过一个字。 
这次前来行猎是盖太诺提议的，所以他自动负起全责。四个水手的眼睛都盯在他的身上，同时都把他们的桨准备好，以便随时可以划开去。在这一点，靠了黑暗帮忙，大概是做起来不难。至于弗兰兹，他极其冷静地检查了一下他自己的武器。 
他有两支双铳枪和一支马枪。他上了子弹，望着枪机，静静地等着。这时，船长已脱掉他的背心和衬衫，紧了紧他的裤子；他原来就赤着脚，所以根本没有鞋袜可脱。完成这些以后，他把手指放在嘴唇上做一个要大家保持肃静的动作，就一点儿声响没有地滑入海里，极其小心的游向岸边，没有一丝哪怕最轻微的动静。只有从那条闪着磷光的水痕才能跟踪到他。这道水痕迹一会儿也不见了；显然他已上了岸。在半个小时内，船上的每一个人都一动不动，当那道发光的水痕又出现时，他用力划了两划就回到了船上。 
“怎么样？”弗兰兹和水手们齐声问。 
“他们是些西班牙走私贩子，”他说，“两个科西嘉强盗也和他们在一起。” 
“科西嘉强盗怎么会和西班牙走私贩子一起在这儿呢？” 
“唉！”船长用基督教徒般的悲天悯人的口吻回答说，“我们应该永远互相帮助。强盗常常让宪兵和马枪兵逼得走投无路。唉，他们看到一条小船，而船上是象我们这样的好人，他们就来要求我们庇护。对于一个走投无路的可怜虫，你怎么能拒绝帮忙呢？我们就收留了他们。而为了更加安全起见，我们就驾船到海上来。我们并不因此破费什么，但却救了一个相同命运人的性命，或至少使一个伙伴获得了自由，而他，一有机会就会报告我们，指示一个安全地点，使我们可以把货物顺顺利利地卸到岸上。” 
“啊！”弗兰兹说，“那么你偶尔也干点走私的活了，盖太诺？” 
“阁下，人总得什么都干一点儿，我们总得要过日子哪。” 
对方带着一个难以形容的微笑回答说。 
“那么你认识基督山岛上现在那些人罗？” 
“哦，是的，我们水手就象是互济会会员，可凭某种暗号互相认识的。” 
“如果我们上岸去，你认为不要紧吗？” 
“一点用不着害怕！走私贩子不是强盗。” 
“但那两个科西嘉强盗呢？”弗兰兹说道，心中盘算着危险的可能性。 
“哦！”盖太诺说，“他们做强盗可不是他们的错，那是当局的错。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“他们被追得走投无路，就因为‘摘了一个瓢儿’，而当局似乎认为科西嘉人的天性里不该有复仇的念头似的。” 
“你这‘摘了一个瓢儿’是什么意思，是指暗杀了一个人吗？”弗兰兹继续刨根问底地说道。 
“我的意思是他们杀了一个仇人，那和普通的暗杀可大不相同。”船长答道。 
“好吧，”青年说，“那么我们去请求这些走私贩子和强盗的接待吧。你认为他们肯吗？” 
“一定肯的。” 
“他们有多少人？” 
“四个，加上那两个强盗，一共六个。” 
“正和我们相等，那么他们假如要找麻烦，我们也能够对付他们。我最后再对你说一遍，到基督山去吧。” 
“是，但阁下得允许我们采取某种预防措施。” 
“只管做吧，要象斯托一样的聪明和尤利西斯一样的慎重。我不但允许，而且还鼓励你这样做。” 
“那么，别出声！”盖太诺说。 
每一个人都不再作声了。象弗兰兹这样一个看事明了的人，知道所处的位置很重要，他现在是孤零零地独自和一群水手在黑暗里，他并不认识他们，他们没有理
Chapter 32 The Waking
 WHEN FRANZ returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a dream. He thought himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. He stretched forth his hand, and touched stone; he rose to his seat, and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather, very soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled; and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb, they had vanished at his waking. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came, and to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He found that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun; on the shore the sailors were sitting, chatting and laughing; and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor, undulating gracefully on the water. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow, and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach, that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature, specially after a fantastic dream; then gradually this view of the outer world, so calm, so pure, so grand, reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision, and once more awakened memory. He recalled his arrival on the island, his presentation to a smuggler chief, a subterranean palace full of splendor, an excellent supper, and a spoonful of hashish. It seemed, however, even in the very face of open day, that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed, so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream, and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors, seated on a rock, or undulating in the vessel, one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. Otherwise, his head was perfectly clear, and his body refreshed; he was free from the slightest headache; on the contrary, he felt a certain degree of lightness, a faculty for absorbing the pure air, and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. 
He went gayly up to the sailors, who rose as soon as they perceived him; and the patron, accosting him, said, "The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency, and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person; but he trusts you will excuse him, as very important business calls him to Malaga." 
"So, then, Gaetano," said Franz, "this is, then, all reality; there exists a man who has received me in this island, entertained me right royally, and his departed while I was asleep?" 
"He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread; and if you will use your glass, you will, in all probability, recognize your host in the midst of his crew." So saying, Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica. Franz adjusted his telescope, and directed it towards the yacht. Gaetano was not mistaken. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore, and holding a spy-glass in his hand. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening, and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals. After a second, a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel, which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air, and then Franz heard a slight report. "There, do you hear?" observed Gaetano; "he is bidding you adieu." The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air, but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. 
"What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. 
"In the first place, light me a torch." 
"Ah, yes, I understand," replied the patron, "to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. With much pleasure, your excellency, if it would amuse you; and I will get you the torch you ask for. But I too have had the idea you have, and two or three times the same fancy has come over me; but I have always given it up. Giovanni, light a torch," he added, "and give it to his excellency." 
Giovanni obeyed. Franz took the lamp, and entered the subterranean grotto, followed by Gaetano. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was there; but it was in vain that he carried his torch all round the exterior surface of the grotto. He saw nothing, unless that, by traces of smoke, others had before him attempted the same thing, and, like him, in vain. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall, as impenetrable as futurity, without strict scrutiny; he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it, or a projecting point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would give way. All was vain; and he lost two hours in his attempts, which were at last utterly useless. At the end of this time he gave up his search, and Gaetano smiled. 
When Franz appeared again on the shore, the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. He looked again through his glass, but even then he could not distinguish anything. Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats, which he had utterly forgotten. He took his fowling-piece, and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty, rather than enjoying a pleasure; and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. These animals, though wild and agile as chamois, were too much like domestic goats, and Franz could not consider them as game. Moreover, other ideas, much more enthralling, occupied his mind. Since, the evening before, he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the Thousand and One Nights, and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. Then, in spite of the failure of his first search, he began a second, after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. The second visit was a long one, and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper; and he saw the little yacht, now like a sea-gull on the wave, continuing her flight towards Corsica. "Why," he remarked to Gaetano, "you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga, while it seems he is in the direction of Porto-Vecchio." 
"Don't you remember," said the patron, "I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" 
"True; and he is going to land them," added Franz. 
"Precisely so," replied Gaetano. "Ah, he is one who fears neither God nor Satan, they say, and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service." 
"But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy," said Franz. 
"And what cares he for that," replied Gaetano with a laugh, "or any authorities? He smiles at them. Let them try to pursue him! Why, in the first place, his yacht is not a ship, but a bird, and he would beat any frigate three knots in every nine; and if he were to throw himself on the coast, why, is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" 
It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad, Franz's host, had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean, and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. As to Franz, he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. He had lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto; he consequently despatched his breakfast, and, his boat being ready, he hastened on board, and they were soon under way. At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of the yacht, as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto-Vecchio. With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night; and then supper, Sinbad, hashish, statues,--all became a dream for Franz. The boat sailed on all day and all night, and next morning, when the sun rose, they had lost sight of Monte Cristo. When Franz had once again set foot on shore, he forgot, for the moment at least, the events which had just passed, while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence, and then thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion, who was awaiting him at Rome. 
He set out, and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the mail-coach. An apartment, as we have said, had been retained beforehand, and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini's hotel. But this was not so easy a matter, for the streets were thronged with people, and Rome was already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great events; and at Rome there are four great events in every year,--the Carnival, Holy Week, Corpus Christi, and the Feast of St. Peter. All the rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy, between life and death, which renders it similar to a kind of station between this world and the next--a sublime spot, a resting-place full of poetry and character, and at which Franz had already halted five or six times, and at each time found it more marvellous and striking. At last he made his way through the mob, which was continually increasing and getting more and more turbulent, and reached the hotel. On his first inquiry he was told, with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackney-coachmen and inn-keepers with their houses full, that there was no room for him at the H?tel de Londres. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini, and asked for Albert de Morcerf. This plan succeeded; and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him, excusing himself for having made his excellency wait, scolding the waiters, taking the candlestick from the porter, who was ready to pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert, when Morcerf himself appeared. 
The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. The two rooms looked onto the street--a fact which Signor Pastrini commented upon as an inappreciable advantage. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese; but the host was unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged. "Very good, signor Pastrini," said Franz; "but we must have some supper instantly, and a carriage for tomorrow and the following days." "As to supper," replied the landlord, "you shall be served immediately; but as for the carriage"-- 
"What as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. "Come, come, Signor Pastrini, no joking; we must have a carriage." 
"Sir," replied the host, "we will do all in our power to procure you one--this is all I can say." 
"And when shall we know?" inquired Franz. 
"To-morrow morning," answered the inn-keeper. 
"Oh, the deuce! then we shall pay the more, that's all, I see plainly enough. At Drake's or Aaron's one pays twenty-five lire for common days, and thirty or thirty-five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days; add five lire a day more for extras, that will make forty, and there's an end of it." 
"I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a carriage." 
"Then they must put horses to mine. It is a little worse for the journey, but that's no matter." 
"There are no horses." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand. 
"Do you understand that, my dear Franz--no horses?" he said, "but can't we have post-horses?" 
"They have been all hired this fortnight, and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting." 
"What are we to say to this?" asked Franz. 
"I say, that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension, I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing, but to pass to another. Is supper ready, Signor Pastrini?" 
"Yes, your excellency." 
"Well, then, let us sup." 
"But the carriage and horses?" said Franz. 
"Be easy, my dear boy; they will come in due season; it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them." Morcerf then, with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well-lined pocketbook, supped, went to bed, slept soundly, and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses.  
当弗兰兹醒来的时候，外界的景物似乎成了他梦的延续。 
他以为自己是躺在一个坟墓里，一缕阳光象一道怜悯的眼光似的从外面透进来。他伸出手去，触着了石头。他坐起身来，发觉自己和衣躺在一张非常柔软而芳香的干芰草所铺成的床上。幻景完全消失了。他向光线透进来的那个地方走前几步，在梦的兴奋激动过后，跟着就来了现实的宁静，发觉自己是在一个岩洞里，他向洞口走去，透过一座拱形的门廊，他看到一片蔚蓝色的海和一片淡青色的天空，空气和海水在清晨的阳光里闪闪发光，水手们坐在海滩上，在那儿叽哩咕噜地谈笑着，离他们十码远的地方，静静的停着那艘小船。他在洞口站了一会儿，尽情地享受着那拂过他额头的清新的微风，倾听着那卷到海滩上来的、在岩石四周留下一圈白色泡沫波浪的轻微拍击声。此时他让自己完全沉醉在大自然的圣洁妩媚里了，一切回忆和思虑都抛在了一边，当人们在一场迷乱的怪梦以后，通常总是这样的；于是，眼前的这个宁静，纯洁，宏伟的现实世界渐渐的向他证实了梦的虚幻，他开始回忆起来。他想起了自己是怎样到达这个小岛，怎样被介绍给了一个走私贩子的首领，怎样进入了一座富丽堂皇的地下宫殿，怎样享用了一顿山珍海味的晚餐，怎样咽下了一匙大麻。但是，面对着白天，所经过的这一切如是一年以前发生的事情一般，那个梦在他的脑子里所留下的印象是这样的深刻，在他的想象里所占据的位置是这样的重要。他不时地在幻想中，看到梦中垂青于他并投以香吻的女仙中的一个在水手中；时而幻想着看到她坐在岩石上，时而坐在船里，随着船儿左右摇摆。除了这一点以外，他的头脑却十分清醒，他的身体也已完全从疲劳中恢复了过来。他的头脑毫无迟钝的感觉，相反的，他却感觉相当轻松，他从来没象现在这样尽情地呼吸清新的空气或欣赏明媚的阳光。 
他兴冲冲地向水手们走过去，他们一看见他，就马上站起来，船长招呼他说：“辛巴德先生留言向您致意，他不能亲自向您告别，托我们转达他的歉意，但他相信您一定会原谅他的，因为有非常重要的大事召他到马拉加去了。” 
“那么，盖太诺，”弗兰兹说，“这一切，那么，都是真的了？这个岛上真有一个人请我去过，极其殷勤地款待过我，而在我睡着的时候走了，是吗？” 
“真得不能更真啦，您还可以看到他那艘扯着满帆的小游艇呢。假如您拿您的望远镜来观看，你多半还能在他的船员之中认出您的那个东道主哩。” 
说着，盖太诺就向一个方向指了指，果然那儿有一艘小帆船正在扬帆向科西嘉的南端驶去。弗兰兹调正了一下他的望远镜，向所指的那个方向望去。盖太诺没有说错。在那艘船的尾部，那位神秘的陌生人也正在拿着一个望远镜，向岸边望来。他还是穿着昨天晚上的那套衣服，正舞着他的手帕向客人告别，弗兰兹也同样地挥舞着他的手回答他的敬意。过了一会儿，帆船的尾部发出了一蓬轻烟，象一朵白云似的升到了空中散了开来，接着弗兰兹就听到了一下隐约的炮声。“喏，你听到了吗？”盖太诺说，“他在向你告别呢。”青年拿起他的枪来，向空中放了一枪，也不去多想枪声是否能从岸上边传到这一大段距离而被游艇上的人听到。 
“先生您有什么吩咐？”盖太诺问道。 
“啊，是有，我懂了，”船长高声回答说，“您是要去寻那间魔室的进口，遵命，先生，只要您高兴，我就把火把给您拿来。我也有过您这样的念头，也这样想过两三次，但最后还是放弃了这个念头。琪奥凡尼，去点一支火把来，”他又说，“拿来给先生。” 
琪奥尼遵命照办。弗兰兹拿着火把走进了地下岩洞，后面跟着盖太诺。他认得他睡觉的地方，那张芰草铺成的床还在那儿，但他虽然用火把照遍了岩洞的上下左右，却仍是枉然。除了一些煤烟的痕迹，别的他什么也看不到，这些煤烟的痕迹是前人作这种同样尝试的结果，而象他一样，他们也扑了一个空。可是，这些象“未来”一样难以渗透的花岗石壁，他把别的地方都仔仔细细的检查过了。他每看到一线裂缝，就用那把剑的剑锋插进去撬，每看到一块凸出地面的地方，就去撞去推，希望它会陷进去。但一切都毫无用处，他费了两个钟头来检查，结果是一无所得。最后，他放弃了搜索，盖太诺胜利了。 
当弗兰兹又回到岸边的时候，那艘游艇已经象是地平线上的一个小白点了。他又拿起望远镜来看，但即便从望远镜里看出去，他也分辨不出什么东西了。盖太诺提醒他，他原是为猎山羊而来的，这一点他可完全忘记了。他这才拿起猎枪，开始在岛上打起猎来，从神色上看，他倒象是在了却一种责任而不象在寻欢作乐，一刻钟内，他已猎杀了一只大山羊和两只小山羊。这些动物虽然是野生的，而且敏捷得象羚羊一样，但实在太象家养的山羊了，所以弗兰兹认为这不能算是打猎。而且还有其他更有力的念头占据着他的脑子。自从昨天傍晚以来，他已真的变成《一千零一夜》神话里的角色之一了，他身不由己地又被吸引到岩洞面前。他叫盖太诺在两只小山羊里挑一只来烤着吃，然后，不顾第一次的失败，他又开始了第二次搜索。这第二次花了很长的时间，当他回来的时候，小山羊已经烤熟了，大家正在等他用餐了。弗兰兹坐在前一天晚上他那位神秘的东道主来邀他去用晚餐的地方，看到那艘小游艇现在象是一只在海面上的海鸥，继续向科西嘉飞去。 
“咦，”他对盖太诺说，“你告诉我说辛巴德先生是到马拉加去。但在我看来，他倒是笔直地在向韦基奥港去呀。” 
“您不记得了吗，”船长说，“我告诉过您船员里面还有两个科西嘉强盗呢。” 
“对的了！他要送他们上岸吗？” 
“一点不错，”盖太诺答道。“他们说，他这个人是天不怕地不怕的，随时都会多绕一百五十哩路给一个可怜虫帮一次忙。” 
“但这样的帮忙一定会连累到他自己的呀，他在一个地方实行这种博爱主义，那么地方当局不是找他麻烦吗？”弗兰兹说道。 
“哦，”盖太诺大笑着回答说。“他还怕什么当局？他嘲笑他们，让他们去追他试试看吧！嘿，第一，他那艘游艇就不是一条船，而是一只鸟，不论什么巡逻船，每走十二海里就得被他超出三海里，假如他到了岸上，嘿，他不是到处都肯定会找得到朋友的吗？” 
从这一番话中就可以知道，弗兰兹的东道主辛巴德翻天覆地显然和地中海沿岸的走私贩子和强盗都保持着极其友善的关系，单是这点就使他显得够奇特的了，至于弗兰兹，他已丝毫不再想在基督山逗留了。他对于探索岩洞的秘密已感到毫无希望了。所以匆匆用完早餐，急忙上了船，他的船本来就已准备好了，他们不久便开船了。当小船开始它的航程的时候，他们已望不到那艘游艇了，因为它已消失在韦基奥港的港湾里了。随着它的消失，昨天晚上最后的痕迹也渐渐地抹去了，晚餐，辛巴德，大麻，石像，这一节全都被埋葬在同一个梦里了。小船整日整夜地前进着，第二天早晨，当太阳升起来的时候，他们已望不见基督山岛了。弗兰兹登岸以后，先前所经历过的种种事情都被他暂时忘记，他把他在佛罗伦萨寻欢作乐的事情告一段落，然后一心一意地设想着怎样再同那位在罗马等他的朋友相会。于是他就乘车出发，在星期六傍晚到达了邮局旁边的杜阿纳广场。我们已经说过，房间是事先预定了的，所以他只要到派里尼老板的旅馆去就得了。但这可不是一件容易的事，因为街上挤满了人，到处都已充满了粗鄙狂热的街谈巷议，这是罗马每件大事以前常有的现象。罗马每年有四件大事——狂欢节，复活节，圣体瞻礼节和圣·彼得节。一年中其余的日子，全城都在一种不死不活阴沉清冷的状态之中，看来象是阳世和阴世之间的一个中间站，是一个超尘绝俗的地点，一个充满着诗意和特色的安息地，弗兰兹曾来此小住过五六次，而每次总发觉它比以前更神奇妙绝。他终于从那不断地愈来愈多，愈来愈兴奋的人群中挤出来，到了旅馆里。最初一问，侍者就用车夫生意很忙和旅馆已经客满时那种特有的傲慢神气告诉他，伦敦旅馆已经没收有他住的份儿了。于是他拿出名片来，求见派里尼老板和阿尔贝·马尔塞夫。这一着很成功，派里尼老板亲自跑出来迎接他，一面道歉失迎，一面责骂那侍者，一面又从那准备招揽旅客的向导手里接过蜡烛台。 
当他正要领他去见阿尔贝的时候，阿尔贝却自己出来了。 
他们的寓所包括两个小房间和一个套间。那两间卧室是朝向大街的，这一点，派里尼老板认为是一个无可评价的优点。这层楼上其它的房间都被一位非常有钱的绅士租去了，他大概是一个西西里人或马耳他人；但这位旅客究竟是哪个地方的人，旅馆老板也不能确定。 
“好极了，派里尼老板，”弗兰兹说，“但我们必须立刻用晚餐，从明天起给我们雇一辆马车。” 
“晚餐嘛，”旅馆老板回答说，“马上就可以给两位拿来。只是马车” 
“马车怎么了？”阿尔贝大声叫道，“喂，喂，派里尼老板，别开玩笑了，我们一定要有一辆马车才行呀。” 
“阁下，”店主回答说，“我们尽力给您去找就是了，我只能这样说。” 
“我们什么时候才能知道呢？”弗兰兹问道。 
“明天早晨。”旅馆老板回答说。 
“噢，见鬼！”阿尔贝说，“那么我们得多付一点钱了，不过如此而已。我早就看明白了。在德雷克和亚隆，平常日子租一辆马车只要二十五法朗，可到了星期天和节日就要三十或三十五法郎，外加五法郎的小费，加起来就是四十了，那就了结啦。” 
“我怕，”店主说道，“即使您给他们两倍于那个数目的钱，那些先生也无法给你找到一辆马车。” 
“那么叫他们把马套到我的车子上来好了，”阿尔贝说道。”我的车子坐起来虽然并不十分舒服，但那也没关系了。” 
“连马也没有。” 
阿尔贝望着弗兰兹，象是不懂这句回答是什么意思似的。 
“你听见了吗，我亲爱的弗兰兹？连马也没有！”他又说，“难道我们就不能租用驿马吗？” 
“驿马在这两周内早已租光了，留下来的几匹都是应急用的。” 
“这件事你说怎么办才好呢？”弗兰兹问道。 
“我说当一件事情完全超出我的理解力之外的时候，我不愿去钻牛角尖，而情愿去想想另外的事，晚餐好了吗，派里尼老板？” 
“好了，先生。” 
“好吧，那么，我们来用晚餐吧。” 
“但那车和马怎么办呢？”弗兰兹说道。 
“放心吧，我的好孩子，到时候它们自然会来的。问题只在于我们要花多少钱而已。” 
马尔塞夫相信只要有了一只鼓鼓的钱袋和支票本，天下就不会有办不到的事情，他就抱着那种令人钦佩的哲学用完了餐，然后爬上床，呼呼地睡着了，他做了一个梦，梦到自己乘着一辆六匹马拉的轿车在度狂欢节。 
Chapter 33 Roman Bandits
 THE NEXT MORNING Franz woke first, and instantly rang the bell. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered. 
"Well, excellency," said the landlord triumphantly, and without waiting for Franz to question him, "I feared yesterday, when I would not promise you anything, that you were too late--there is not a single carriage to be had--that is, for the last three days of the carnival." 
"Yes," returned Franz, "for the very three days it is most needed." 
"What is the matter?" said Albert, entering; "no carriage to be had?" 
"Just so," returned Franz, "you have guessed it." 
"Well, your Eternal City is a nice sort of place." 
"That is to say, excellency," replied Pastrini, who was desirous of keeping up the dignity of the capital of the Christian world in the eyes of his guest, "that there are no carriages to be had from Sunday to Tuesday evening, but from now till Sunday you can have fifty if you please." 
"Ah, that is something," said Albert; "to-day is Thursday, and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" 
"Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive," replied Franz, "which will make it still more difficult." 
"My friend," said Morcerf, "let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future." 
"At least we can have a window?" 
"Where?" 
"In the Corso." 
"Ah, a window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini,--"utterly impossible; there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace, and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day." 
The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction. 
"Well," said Franz to Albert, "do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice; there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages." 
"Ah, the devil, no," cried Albert; "I came to Rome to see the Carnival, and I will, though I see it on stilts." 
"Bravo! an excellent idea. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes, and we shall have complete success." 
"Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?" 
"Parbleu!" said Albert, "do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome, like lawyer's clerks?" 
"I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes; only, I tell you beforehand, the carriage will cost you six piastres a day." 
"And, as I am not a millionaire, like the gentleman in the next apartments," said Franz, "I warn you, that as I have been four times before at Rome, I know the prices of all the carriages; we will give you twelve piastres for to-day, tomorrow, and the day after, and then you will make a good profit." 
"But, excellency"--said Pastrini, still striving to gain his point. 
"Now go," returned Franz, "or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore, who is mine also; he is an old friend of mine, who has plundered me pretty well already, and, in the hope of making more out of me, he will take a less price than the one I offer you; you will lose the preference, and that will be your fault." 
"Do not give yourselves the trouble, excellency," returned Signor Pastrini, with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat; "I will do all I can, and I hope you will be satisfied." 
"And now we understand each other." 
"When do you wish the carriage to be here?" 
"In an hour." 
"In an hour it will be at the door." 
An hour after the vehicle was at the door; it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion, but, in spite of its humble exterior, the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. "Excellency," cried the cicerone, seeing Franz approach the window, "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?" 
Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology, his first impulse was to look round him, but these words were addressed to him. Franz was the "excellency," the vehicle was the "carriage," and the H?tel de Londres was the "palace." The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase. 
Franz and Albert descended, the carriage approached the palace; their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats; the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. "Where do your excellencics wish to go?" asked he. 
"To Saint Peter's first, and then to the Colosseum," returned Albert. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's, and a month to study it. The day was passed at Saint Peter's alone. Suddenly the daylight began to fade away; Franz took out his watch--it was half-past four. They returned to the hotel; at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight, as he had shown him Saint Peter's by daylight. When we show a friend a city one has already visited, we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo, skirt the outer wall, and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni; thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol, the Forum, the Arch of Septimus Severus, the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, and the Via Sacra. They sat down to dinner. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet; he gave them a tolerable repast. At the end of the dinner he entered in person. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised, and began accordingly, but at the first words he was interrupted. "Excellency," said Pastrini, "I am delighted to have your approbation, but it was not for that I came." 
"Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" asked Albert, lighting his cigar. 
"No; and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer; at Rome things can or cannot be done; when you are told anything cannot he done, there is an end of it." 
"It is much more convenient at Paris,--when anything cannot be done, you pay double, and it is done directly." 
"That is what all the French say," returned Signor Pastrini, somewhat piqued; "for that reason, I do not understand why they travel." 
"But," said Albert, emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs, "only madmen, or blockheads like us, ever do travel. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder, their walk on the Boulevard de Gand, and the Café de Paris." 
It is of course understood that Albert resided in the aforesaid street, appeared every day on the fashionable walk, and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine, that is, if you are on good terms with its frequenters. Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time; it was evident that he was musing over this answer, which did not seem very clear. "But," said Franz, in his turn interrupting his host's meditations, "you had some motive for coming here, may I beg to know what it was?" 
"Ah, yes; you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock precisely?" 
"I have." 
"You intend visiting Il Colosseo." 
"You mean the Colosseum?" 
"It is the same thing. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo, to drive round the walls, and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" 
"These are my words exactly." 
"Well, this route is impossible." 
"Impossible!" 
"Very dangerous, to say the least." 
"Dangerous!--and why?" 
"On account of the famous Luigi Vampa." 
"Pray, who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert; "he may be very famous at Rome, but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris." 
"What! do you not know him?" 
"I have not that honor." 
"You have never heard his name?" 
"Never." 
"Well, then, he is a bandit, compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children." 
"Now then, Albert," cried Franz, "here is a bandit for you at last." 
"I forewarn you, Signor Pastrini, that I shall not believe one word of what you are going to tell us; having told you this, begin." 
"Once upon a time"-- 
"Well, go on." Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz, who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two; we must do him justice,--he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house, but had never been able to comprehend them. "Excellency," said he gravely, addressing Franz, "if you look upon me as a liar, it is useless for me to say anything; it was for your interest I"-- 
"Albert does not say you are a liar, Signor Pastrini," said Franz, "but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us,--but I will believe all you say; so proceed." 
"But if your excellency doubt my veracity"-- 
"Signor Pastrini," returned Franz, "you are more susceptible than Cassandra, who was a prophetess, and yet no one believed her; while you, at least, are sure of the credence of half your audience. Come, sit down, and tell us all about this Signor Vampa." 
"I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla." 
"Well, what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo, and to re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" 
"This," replied Signor Pastrini, "that you will go out by one, but I very much doubt your returning by the other." 
"Why?" asked Franz. 
"Because, after nightfall, you are not safe fifty yards from the gates." 
"On your honor is that true?" cried Albert. 
"Count," returned Signor Pastrini, hurt at Albert's repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions, "I do not say this to you, but to your companion, who knows Rome, and knows, too, that these things are not to be laughed at." 
"My dear fellow," said Albert, turning to Franz, "here is an admirable adventure; we will fill our carriage with pistols, blunderbusses, and double-barrelled guns. Luigi Vampa comes to take us, and we take him--we bring him back to Rome, and present him to his holiness the Pope, who asks how he can repay so great a service; then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses, and we see the Carnival in the carriage, and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol, and proclaim us, like Curtius and the veiled Horatius, the preservers of their country." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme, Signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe. 
"And pray," asked Franz, "where are these pistols, blunderbusses, and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?" 
"Not out of my armory, for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife." 
"I shared the same fate at Aquapendente." 
"Do you know, Signor Pastrini," said Albert, lighting a second cigar at the first, "that this practice is very convenient for bandits, and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising, for he only answered half the question, and then he spoke to Franz, as the only one likely to listen with attention. "Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits." 
"What!" cried Albert, whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely, "not make any resistance!" 
"No, for it would be useless. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit, ruin, or aqueduct, and level their pieces at you?" 
"Eh, parbleu!--they should kill me." 
The inn-keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say, "Your friend is decidedly mad." 
"My dear Albert," returned Franz, "your answer is sublime, and worthy the 'Let him die,' of Corneille, only, when Horace made that answer, the safety of Rome was concerned; but, as for us, it is only to gratify a whim, and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive." Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi, which he sipped at intervals, muttering some unintelligible words. 
"Well, Signor Pastrini," said Franz, "now that my companion is quieted, and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are, tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman?--young or old?--tall or short? Describe him, in order that, if we meet him by chance, like Bugaboo John or Lara, we may recognize him." 
"You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these points, for I knew him when he was a child, and one day that I fell into his hands, going from Ferentino to Alatri, he, fortunately for me, recollected me, and set me free, not only without ransom, but made me a present of a very splendid watch, and related his history to me." 
"Let us see the watch," said Albert. 
Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet, bearing the name of its maker, of Parisian manufacture, and a count's coronet. 
"Here it is," said he. 
"Peste!" returned Albert, "I compliment you on it; I have its fellow"--he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket--"and it cost me 3,000 francs." 
"Let us hear the history," said Franz, motioning Signor Pastrini to seat himself. 
"Your excellencies permit it?" asked the host. 
"" cried Albert, "you are not a preacher, to remain standing!" 
The host sat down, after having made each of them a respectful bow, which meant that he was ready to tell them all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. "You tell me," said Franz, at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to open his mouth, "that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a child--he is still a young man, then?" 
"A young man? he is only two and twenty;--he will gain himself a reputation." 
"What do you think of that, Albert?--at two and twenty to be thus famous?" 
"Yes, and at his age, Alexander, C?sar, and Napoleon, who have all made some noise in the world, were quite behind him." 
"So," continued Franz, "the hero of this history is only two and twenty?" 
"Scarcely so much." 
"Is he tall or short?" 
"Of the middle height--about the same stature as his excellency," returned the host, pointing to Albert. 
"Thanks for the comparison," said Albert, with a bow. 
"Go on, Signor Pastrini," continued Franz, smiling at his friend's susceptibility. "To what class of society does he belong?" 
"He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice, situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri; he was born at Pampinara, and entered the count's service when he was five years old; his father was also a shepherd, who owned a small flock, and lived by the wool and the milk, which he sold at Rome. When quite a child, the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity. One day, when he was seven years old, he came to the curate of Palestrina, and asked to be taught to read; it was somewhat difficult, for he could not quit his flock; but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which, having no other name, was called Borgo; he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return, and that then he would give him a lesson, warning him that it would be short, and that he must profit as much as possible by it. The child accepted joyfully. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo; every day, at nine o'clock in the morning, the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside, and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest's breviary. At the end of three months he had learned to read. This was not enough--he must now learn to write. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets--one large, one middling, and one small; and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate, and thus learn to write. The same evening, when the flock was safe at the farm, the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina, took a large nail, heated and sharpened it, and formed a sort of stylus. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and began. At the end of three months he had learned to write. The curate, astonished at his quickness and intelligence, made him a present of pens, paper, and a penknife. This demanded new effort, but nothing compared to the first; at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. The curate related the incident to the Count of San-Felice, who sent for the little shepherd, made him read and write before him, ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics, and to give him two piastres a month. With this, Luigi purchased books and pencils. He applied his imitative powers to everything, and, like Giotto, when young, he drew on his slate sheep, houses, and trees. Then, with his knife, he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood; it was thus that Pinelli, the famous sculptor, had commenced. 
"A girl of six or seven--that is, a little younger than Vampa--tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina; she was an orphan, born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. The two children met, sat down near each other, let their flocks mingle together, played, laughed, and conversed together; in the evening they separated the Count of San-Felice's flock from those of Baron Cervetri, and the children returned to their respective farms, promising to meet the next morning. The next day they kept their word, and thus they grew up together. Vampa was twelve, and Teresa eleven. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. Beside his taste for the fine arts, which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude, he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm, was often angry and capricious, and always sarcastic. None of the lads of Pampinara, Palestrina, or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. Teresa alone ruled by a look, a word, a gesture, this impetuous character, which yielded beneath the hand of a woman, and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken, but could never have been bended. Teresa was lively and gay, but coquettish to excess. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San-Felice's steward, and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome, were expended in ear-rings, necklaces, and gold hairpins. So that, thanks to her friend's generosity, Teresa was the most beautiful and the best-attired peasant near Rome. The two children grew up together, passing all their time with each other, and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. Thus, in all their dreams, their wishes, and their conversations, Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel, general of an army, or governor of a province. Teresa saw herself rich, superbly attired, and attended by a train of liveried domestics. Then, when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air, they separated their flocks, and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. 
"One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains, and prowl around his flock. The steward gave him a gun; this was what Vampa longed for. This gun had an excellent barrel, made at Breschia, and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle; but one day the count broke the stock, and had then cast the gun aside. This, however, was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa; he examined the broken stock, calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder, and made a fresh stock, so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres, had he chosen to sell it. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts. For a long time a gun had been the young man's greatest ambition. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty, the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon, which at once renders him capable of defence or attack, and, by rendering its owner terrible, often makes him feared. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon; he purchased powder and ball, and everything served him for a mark--the trunk of some old and moss-grown olive-tree, that grew on the Sabine mountains; the fox, as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion; the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert, that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report, and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased, with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. 
"One evening a wolf emerged from a pine-wood hear which they were usually stationed, but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. Proud of this exploit, Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders, and carried him to the farm. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable reputation. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers, go where he will. He was spoken of as the most adroit, the strongest, and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around; and although Teresa was universally allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines, no one had ever spoken to her of love, because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection; they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled, whose branches intertwined, and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. Only their wish to see each other had become a necessity, and they would have preferred death to a day's separation. Teresa was sixteen, and Vampa seventeen. About this time, a band of brigands that had established itself in the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. Sometimes a chief is wanted, but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. 
"The celebrated Cucumetto, pursued in the Abruzzo, driven out of the kingdom of Naples, where he had carried on a regular war, had crossed the Garigliano, like Manfred, and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. He strove to collect a band of followers, and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone, whom he hoped to surpass. Many young men of Palestrina, Frascati, and Pampinara had disappeared. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude; but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention; the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. One day he carried off a young girl, the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. The bandit's laws are positive; a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off, then the rest draw lots for her, and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom, a messenger is sent to negotiate; the prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger; should the ransom be refused, the prisoner is irrevocably lost. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's troop; his name was Carlini. When she recognized her lover, the poor girl extended her arms to him, and believed herself safe; but Carlini felt his heart sink, for he but too well knew the fate that awaited her. However, as he was a favorite with Cucumetto, as he had for three years faithfully served him, and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down, he hoped the chief would have pity on him. He took Cucumetto one side, while the young girl, seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest, made a veil of her picturesque head-dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. There he told the chief all--his affection for the prisoner, their promises of mutual fidelity, and how every night, since he had been near, they had met in some neighboring ruins. 
"It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village, so that he had been unable to go to the place of meeting. Cucumetto had been there, however, by accident, as he said, and had carried the maiden off. Carlini besought his chief to make an exception in Rita's favor, as her father was rich, and could pay a large ransom. Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend's entreaties, and bade him find a shepherd to send to Rita's father at Frosinone. Carlini flew joyfully to Rita, telling her she was saved, and bidding her write to her father, to inform him what had occurred, and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred piastres. Twelve hours' delay was all that was granted--that is, until nine the next morning. The instant the letter was written, Carlini seized it, and hastened to the plain to find a messenger. He found a young shepherd watching his flock. The natural messengers of the bandits are the shepherds who live between the city and the mountains, between civilized and savage life. The boy undertook the commission, promising to be in Frosinone in less than an hour. Carlini returned, anxious to see his mistress, and announce the joyful intelligence. He found the troop in the glade, supping off the provisions exacted as contributions from the peasants; but his eye vainly sought Rita and Cucumetto among them. He inquired where they were, and was answered by a burst of laughter. A cold perspiration burst from every pore, and his hair stood on end. He repeated his question. One of the bandits rose, and offered him a glass filled with Orvietto, saying, 'To the health of the brave Cucumetto and the fair Rita.' At this moment Carlini heard a woman's cry; he divined the truth, seized the glass, broke it across the face of him who presented it, and rushed towards the spot whence the cry came. After a hundred yards he turned the corner of the thicket; he found Rita senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. At the sight of Carlini, Cucumetto rose, a pistol in each hand. The two brigands looked at each other for a moment--the one with a smile of lasciviousness on his lips, the other with the pallor of death on his brow. A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent; but by degrees Carlini's features relaxed, his hand, which had grasped one of the pistols in his belt, fell to his side. Rita lay between them. The moon lighted the group. 
"'Well,' said Cucumetto, 'have you executed your commission?' 
"'Yes, captain,' returned Carlini. 'At nine o'clock to-morrow Rita's father will be here with the money.'--'It is well; in the meantime, we will have a merry night; this young girl is charming, and does credit to your taste. Now, as I am not egotistical, we will return to our comrades and draw lots for her.'--'You have determined, then, to abandon her to the common law?" said Carlini. 
"'Why should an exception be made in her favor?' 
"'I thought that my entreaties'-- 
"'What right have you, any more than the rest, to ask for an exception?'--'It is true.'--'But never mind,' continued Cucumetto, laughing, 'sooner or later your turn will come.' Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. 
"'Now, then,' said Cucumetto, advancing towards the other bandits, 'are you coming?'--'I follow you.' 
"Cucumetto departed, without losing sight of Carlini, for, doubtless, he feared lest he should strike him unawares; but nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part. He was standing, his arms folded, near Rita, who was still insensible. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly; but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his; and as for the money, three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it. He continued to follow the path to the glade; but, to his great surprise, Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself. 'Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!' cried all the brigands, when they saw the chief. 
"Their demand was fair, and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand, and the red light of the fire made them look like demons. The names of all, including Carlini, were placed in a hat, and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket; the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief, and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. A large wound, extending from the temple to the mouth, was bleeding profusely. Diovalaccio, seeing himself thus favored by fortune, burst into a loud laugh. 'Captain,' said he, 'just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him; propose mine to him, and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me.' Every one expected an explosion on Carlini's part; but to their great surprise, he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other, and filling it,--'Your health, Diavolaccio,' said he calmly, and he drank it off, without his hand trembling in the least. Then sitting down by the fire, 'My supper,' said he; 'my expedition has given me an appetite.'--'Well done, Carlini!' cried the brigands; 'that is acting like a good fellow;' and they all formed a circle round the fire, while Diavolaccio disappeared. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps. They turned round, and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms. Her head hung back, and her long hair swept the ground. As they entered the circle, the bandits could perceive, by the firelight, the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. This apparition was so strange and so solemn, that every one rose, with the exception of Carlini, who remained seated, and ate and drank calmly. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound silence, and laid Rita at the captain's feet. Then every one could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita's left breast. Every one looked at Carlini; the sheath at his belt was empty. 'Ah, ah,' said the chief, 'I now understand why Carlini stayed behind.' All savage natures appreciate a desperate deed. No other of the bandits would, perhaps, have done the same; but they all understood what Carlini had done. 'Now, then,' cried Carlini, rising in his turn, and approaching the corpse, his hand on the butt of one of his pistols, 'does any one dispute the possession of this woman with me?'--'No,' returned the chief, 'she is thine.' Carlini raised her in his arms, and carried her out of the circle of firelight. Cucumetto placed his sentinels for the night, and the bandits wrapped themselves in their cloaks, and lay down before the fire. At midnight the sentinel gave the alarm, and in an instant all were on the alert. It was Rita's father, who brought his daughter's ransom in person. 'Here,' said he, to Cucumetto, 'here are three hundred piastres; give me back my child. But the chief, without taking the money, made a sign to him to follow. The old man obeyed. They both advanced beneath the trees, through whose branches streamed the moonlight. Cucumetto stopped at last, and pointed to two persons grouped at the foot of a tree. 
"'There,' said he, 'demand thy child of Carlini; he will tell thee what has become of her;' and he returned to his companions. The old man remained motionless; he felt that some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. At length he advanced toward the group, the meaning of which he could not comprehend. As he approached, Carlini raised his head, and the forms of two persons became visible to the old man's eyes. A woman lay on the ground, her head resting on the knees of a man, who was seated by her; as he raised his head, the woman's face became visible. The old man recognized his child, and Carlini recognized the old man. 'I expected thee,' said the bandit to Rita's father.--'Wretch!' returned the old man, 'what hast thou done?' and he gazed with terror on Rita, pale and bloody, a knife buried in her bosom. A ray of moonlight poured through the trees, and lighted up the face of the dead.--'Cucumetto had violated thy daughter,' said the bandit; 'I loved her, therefore I slew her; for she would have served as the sport of the whole band.' The old man spoke not, and grew pale as death. 'Now,' continued Carlini, 'if I have done wrongly, avenge her;' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita's bosom, he held it out to the old man with one hand, while with the other he tore open his vest.--'Thou hast done well!' returned the old man in a hoarse voice; 'embrace me, my son.' Carlini threw himself, sobbing like a child, into the arms of his mistress's father. These were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept. 'Now,' said the old man, 'aid me to bury my child.' Carlini fetched two pickaxes; and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of a huge oak, beneath which the young girl was to repose. When the grave was formed, the father kissed her first, and then the lover; afterwards, one taking the head, the other the feet, they placed her in the grave. Then they knelt on each side of the grave, and said the prayers of the dead. Then, when they had finished, they cast the earth over the corpse, until the grave was filled. Then, extending his hand, the old man said; 'I thank you, my son; and now leave me alone.'--'Yet'--replied Carlini.--'Leave me, I command you.' Carlini obeyed, rejoined his comrades, folded himself in his cloak, and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. An hour before daybreak, Cucumetto aroused his men, and gave the word to march. But Carlini would not quit the forest, without knowing what had become of Rita's father. He went toward the place where he had left him. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other. But he was unable to complete this oath, for two days afterwards, in an encounter with the Roman carbineers, Carlini was killed. There was some surprise, however, that, as he was with his face to the enemy, he should have received a ball between his shoulders. That astonishment ceased when one of the brigands remarked to his comrades that Cucumetto was stationed ten paces in Carlini's rear when he fell. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness, and heard this oath of vengeance, and, like a wise man, anticipated it. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief, each more singular than the other. Thus, from Fondi to Perusia, every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. 
"These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories; but Vampa reassured her with a smile, tapping the butt of his good fowling-piece, which threw its ball so well; and if that did not restore her courage, he pointed to a crow, perched on some dead branch, took aim, touched the trigger, and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. Time passed on, and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. They were both orphans, and had only their employers' leave to ask, which had been already sought and obtained. One day when they were talking over their plans for the future, they heard two or three reports of firearms, and then suddenly a man came out of the wood, near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks, and hurried towards them. When he came within hearing, he exclaimed. 'I am pursued; can you conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit; but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the former. Vampa, without saying a word, hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto, drew it away, made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there, in a retreat unknown to every one, closed the stone upon him, and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. Instantly afterwards four carbineers, on horseback, appeared on the edge of the wood; three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive, while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side, saw the young peasants, and galloping up, began to question them. They had seen no one. 'That is very annoying,' said the brigadier; for the man we are looking for is the chief.'--'Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. 
"'Yes,' replied the brigadier; 'and as his head is valued at a thousand Roman crowns, there would have been five hundred for you, if you had helped us to catch him.' The two young persons exchanged looks. The brigadier had a moment's hope. Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire, and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. 
"'Yes, it is very annoying,' said Vampa; 'but we have not seen him.' 
"Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions, but in vain; then, after a time, they disappeared. Vampa then removed the stone, and Cucumetto came out. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers, and guessed the subject of their parley. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him, and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold, which he offered to them. But Vampa raised his head proudly; as to Teresa, her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. 
"Cucumetto was a cunning fiend, and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent, and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve, and he returned to the forest, pausing several times on his way, under the pretext of saluting his protectors. Several days elapsed, and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. The time of the Carnival was at hand. The Count of San-Felice announced a grand masked ball, to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. Luigi asked permission of his protector, the steward, that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house. This was granted. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter Carmela, whom he adored. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa, and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best, her most brilliant ornaments in her hair, and gayest glass beads,--she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time. They both mingled, as they had leave to do, with the servants and peasants. 
"The festa was magnificent; not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated, but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the garden; and very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces, and the terraces to the garden-walks. At each cross-path was an orchestra, and tables spread with refreshments; the guests stopped, formed quadrilles, and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. Her cap was embroidered with pearls, the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds, her girdle was of Turkey silk, with large embroidered flowers, her bodice and skirt were of cashmere, her apron of Indian muslin, and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. Two of her companions were dressed, the one as a woman of Nettuno, and the other as a woman of La Riccia. Four young men of the richest and noblest families of Rome accompanied them with that Italian freedom which has not its parallel in any other country in the world. They were attired as peasants of Albano, Velletri, Civita-Castellana, and Sora. We need hardly add that these peasant costumes, like those of the young women, were brilliant with gold and jewels. 
"Carmela wished to form a quadrille, but there was one lady wanting. Carmela looked all around her, but not one of the guests had a costume similar to her own, or those of her companions. The Count of San-Felice pointed out Teresa, who was hanging on Luigi's arm in a group of peasants. 'Will you allow me, father?' said Carmela.--'Certainly,' replied the count, 'are we not in Carnival time?'--Carmela turned towards the young man who was talking with her, and saying a few words to him, pointed with her finger to Teresa. The young man looked, bowed in obedience, and then went to Teresa, and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by the count's daughter. Teresa felt a flush pass over her face; she looked at Luigi, who could not refuse his assent. Luigi slowly relinquished Teresa's arm, which he had held beneath his own, and Teresa, accompanied by her elegant cavalier, took her appointed place with much agitation in the aristocratic quadrille. Certainly, in the eyes of an artist, the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very different character from that of Carmela and her companions; and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish, and thus the embroidery and muslins, the cashmere waist-girdles, all dazzled her, and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds almost turned her giddy brain. 
"Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his mind. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart, and then thrilled through his whole body. He followed with his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier; when their hands touched, he felt as though he should swoon; every pulse beat with violence, and it seemed as though a bell were ringing in his ears. When they spoke, although Teresa listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation of her cavalier, as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of the good-looking young man that his language was that of praise, it seemed as if the whole world was turning round with him, and all the voices of hell were whispering in his ears ideas of murder and assassination. Then fearing that his paroxysm might get the better of him, he clutched with one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning, and with the other convulsively grasped the dagger with a carved handle which was in his belt, and which, unwittingly, he drew from the scabbard from time to time. Luigi was jealous! He felt that, influenced by her ambitions and coquettish disposition, Teresa might escape him. 
"The young peasant girl, at first timid and scared, soon recovered herself. We have said that Teresa was handsome, but this is not all; Teresa was endowed with all those wild graces which are so much more potent than our affected and studied elegancies. She had almost all the honors of the quadrille, and if she were envious of the Count of San-Felice's daughter, we will not undertake to say that Carmela was not jealous of her. And with overpowering compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place whence he had taken her, and where Luigi awaited her. Twice or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at Luigi, and each time she saw that he was pale and that his features were agitated, once even the blade of his knife, half drawn from its sheath, had dazzled her eyes with its sinister glare. Thus, it was almost tremblingly that she resumed her lover's arm. The quadrille had been most perfect, and it was evident there was a great demand for a repetition, Carmela alone objecting to it, but the Count of San-Felice besought his daughter so earnestly, that she acceded. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite Teresa, without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to be formed, but the young girl had disappeared. The truth was, that Luigi had not felt the strength to support another such trial, and, half by persuasion and half by force, he had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden. Teresa had yielded in spite of herself, but when she looked at the agitated countenance of the young man, she understood by his silence and trembling voice that something strange was passing within him. She herself was not exempt from internal emotion, and without having done anything wrong, yet fully comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. Why, she did not know, but yet she did not the less feel that these reproaches were merited. However, to Teresa's great astonishment, Luigi remained mute, and not a word escaped his lips the rest of the evening. When the chill of the night had driven away the guests from the gardens, and the gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa in-doors, he took Teresa quite away, and as he left her at her home, he said,-- 
"'Teresa, what were you thinking of as you danced opposite the young Countess of San-Felice?'--'I thought,' replied the young girl, with all the frankness of her nature, 'that I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore.' 
"'And what said your cavalier to you?'--'He said it only depended on myself to have it, and I had only one word to say.' 
"'He was right,' said Luigi. 'Do you desire it as ardently as you say?'--'Yes.'--'Well, then, you shall have it!' 
"The young girl, much astonished, raised her head to look at him, but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words froze to her lips. As Luigi spoke thus, he left her. Teresa followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she could, and when he had quite disappeared, she went into the house with a sigh. 
"That night a memorable event occurred, due, no doubt, to the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to extinguish the lights. The Villa of San-Felice took fire in the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely Carmela. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames, she sprang out of bed, wrapped herself in a dressing-gown, and attempted to escape by the door, but the corridor by which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. She then returned to her room, calling for help as loudly as she could, when suddenly her window, which was twenty feet from the ground, was opened, a young peasant jumped into the chamber, seized her in his arms, and with superhuman skill and strength conveyed her to the turf of the grass-plot, where she fainted. When she recovered, her father was by her side. All the servants surrounded her, offering her assistance. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down; but what of that, as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her preserver was everywhere sought for, but he did not appear; he was inquired after, but no one had seen him. Carmela was greatly troubled that she had not recognized him. As the count was immensely rich, excepting the danger Carmela had run,--and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped, made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a real misfortune,--the loss occasioned by the conflagration was to him but a trifle. 
"The next day, at the usual hour, the two young peasants were on the borders of the forest. Luigi arrived first. He came toward Teresa in high spirits, and seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. The young girl was very pensive, but seeing Luigi so cheerful, she on her part assumed a smiling air, which was natural to her when she was not excited or in a passion. Luigi took her arm beneath his own, and led her to the door of the grotto. Then he paused. The young girl, perceiving that there was something extraordinary, looked at him steadfastly. 'Teresa,' said Luigi, 'yesterday evening you told me you would give all the world to have a costume similar to that of the count's daughter.'--'Yes,' replied Teresa with astonishment; 'but I was mad to utter such a wish.'--'And I replied, "Very well, you shall have it."'--'Yes,' replied the young girl, whose astonishment increased at every word uttered by Luigi, 'but of course your reply was only to please me.' 
"'I have promised no more than I have given you, Teresa,' said Luigi proudly. 'Go into the grotto and dress yourself.' At these words he drew away the stone, and showed Teresa the grotto, lighted up by two wax lights, which burnt on each side of a splendid mirror; on a rustic table, made by Luigi, were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins, and on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. 
"Teresa uttered a cry of joy, and, without inquiring whence this attire came, or even thanking Luigi, darted into the grotto, transformed into a dressing-room. Luigi pushed the stone behind her, for on the crest of a small adjacent hill which cut off the view toward Palestrina, he saw a traveller on horseback, stopping a moment, as if uncertain of his road, and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern climes. When he saw Luigi, he put his horse into a gallop and advanced toward him. Luigi was not mistaken. The traveller, who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli, had mistaken his way; the young man directed him; but as at a distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into three ways, and on reaching these the traveller might again stray from his route, he begged Luigi to be his guide. Luigi threw his cloak on the ground, placed his carbine on his shoulder, and freed from his heavy covering, preceded the traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer, which a horse can scarcely keep up with. In ten minutes Luigi and the traveller reached the cross-roads. On arriving there, with an air as majestic as that of an emperor, he stretched his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller was to follow.--"That is your road, excellency, and now you cannot again mistake.'--'And here is your recompense,' said the traveller, offering the young herdsman some small pieces of money. 
"'Thank you,' said Luigi, drawing back his hand; 'I render a service, I do not sell it.'--'Well,' replied the traveller, who seemed used to this difference between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the mountaineer, 'if you refuse wages, you will, perhaps, accept a gift.'--'Ah, yes, that is another thing.'--'Then,' said the traveller, 'take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your bride, to make herself a pair of earrings.' 
"'And then do you take this poniard,' said the young herdsman; 'you will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita-Castellana.' 
"'I accept it,' answered the traveller, 'but then the obligation will be on my side, for this poniard is worth more than two sequins.'--'For a dealer perhaps; but for me, who engraved it myself, it is hardly worth a piastre.' 
"'What is your name?' inquired the traveller.--'Luigi Vampa,' replied the shepherd, with the same air as he would have replied, Alexander, King of Macedon.--'And yours?'--'I,' said the traveller, 'am called Sinbad the Sailor.'" Franz d'Epinay started with surprise. 
"Sinbad the Sailor." he said. 
"Yes," replied the narrator; "that was the name which the traveller gave to Vampa as his own." 
"Well, and what may you have to say against this name?" inquired Albert; "it is a very pretty name, and the adventures of the gentleman of that name amused me very much in my youth, I must confess."--Franz said no more. The name of Sinbad the Sailor, as may well be supposed, awakened in him a world of recollections, as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. 
"Proceed!" said he to the host. 
"Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket, and slowly returned by the way he had gone. As he came within two or three hundred paces of the grotto, he thought he heard a cry. He listened to know whence this sound could proceed. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. The cry proceeded from the grotto. He bounded like a chamois, cocking his carbine as he went, and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa, as Nessus, the centaur, carried Dejanira. This man, who was hastening towards the wood, was already three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. Vampa measured the distance; the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him, and there was not a chance of overtaking him. The young shepherd stopped, as if his feet had been rooted to the ground; then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder, took aim at the ravisher, followed him for a second in his track, and then fired. The ravisher stopped suddenly, his knees bent under him, and he fell with Teresa in his arms. The young girl rose instantly, but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa; for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her, and she had dropped on her knees, so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy, had also wounded his betrothed. Fortunately, she was unscathed, and it was fright alone that had overcome Teresa. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed, he turned towards the wounded man. He had just expired, with clinched hands, his mouth in a spasm of agony, and his hair on end in the sweat of death. His eyes remained open and menacing. Vampa approached the corpse, and recognized Cucumetto. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants, he had been enamoured of Teresa, and had sworn she should be his. From that time he had watched them, and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone, had carried her off, and believed he at length had her in his power, when the ball, directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman, had pierced his heart. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion; while, on the contrary, Teresa, shuddering in every limb, dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees, and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress:--'Ah,' said he--'good, good! You are dressed; it is now my turn to dress myself.' 
"Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of San-Felice's daughter. Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto, while in her turn Teresa remained outside. If a second traveller had passed, he would have seen a strange thing,--a shepherdess watching her flock, clad in a cashmere grown, with ear-rings and necklace of pearls, diamond pins, and buttons of sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. He would, no doubt, have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian, and would have declared, on reaching Paris, that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto; his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. He wore a vest of garnet-colored velvet, with buttons of cut gold; a silk waistcoat covered with embroidery; a Roman scarf tied round his neck; a cartridge-box worked with gold, and red and green silk; sky-blue velvet breeches, fastened above the knee with diamond buckles; garters of deerskin, worked with a thousand arabesques, and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors; two watches hung from his girdle, and a splendid poniard was in his belt. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert, or Schnetz. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed, and a smile of pride passed over his lips.--'Now,' he said to Teresa, 'are you ready to share my fortune, whatever it may be?'--'Oh, yes!' exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically.--'And follow me wherever I go?'--'To the world's end.'--'Then take my arm, and let us on; we have no time to lose.'--The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her, for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome, proud, and powerful as a god. They went towards the forest, and soon entered it. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa; he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation, although there was no beaten track, but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes, and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. A torrent, whose bed was dry, led into a deep gorge. Vampa took this wild road, which, enclosed between two ridges, and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines, seemed, but for the difficulties of its descent, that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her, and pressed closely against her guide, not uttering a syllable; but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance, she endeavored to repress her emotion. Suddenly, about ten paces from them, a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa.--'Not another step,' he said, 'or you are a dead man.'--'What, then,' said Vampa, raising his hand with a gesture of disdain, while Teresa, no longer able to restrain her alarm, clung closely to him, 'do wolves rend each other?'--'Who are you?' inquired the sentinel.--'I am Luigi Vampa, shepherd of the San-Felice farm.'--'What do you want?'--'I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca.'--'Follow me, then,' said the sentinel; 'or, as you know your way, go first.'--Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit, went before Teresa, and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. The two young persons obeyed. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow; a croak answered this signal.--'Good!' said the sentry, 'you may now go on.'--Luigi and Teresa again set forward; as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain, which no doubt in former days had been a volcano--an extinct volcano before the days when Remus and Romulus had deserted Alba to come and found the city of Rome. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit, and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits. 'Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you,' said the sentinel.--'What has he to say?' inquired the young man who was in command in the chief's absence.--'I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd's life,' was Vampa's reply.--'Ah, I understand,' said the lieutenant; 'and you seek admittance into our ranks?'--'Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino, Pampinara, and Anagni, who had recognized Luigi Vampa.--'Yes, but I came to ask something more than to be your companion.'--'And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment.--'I come to ask to be your captain,' said the young man. The bandits shouted with laughter. 'And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant.--'I have killed your chief, Cucumetto, whose dress I now wear; and I set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain, vice Cucumetto deceased." 
"Well, my dear Albert," said Franz, turning towards his friend; "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" 
"I say he is a myth," replied Albert, "and never had an existence." 
"And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini. 
"The explanation would be too long, my dear landlord," replied Franz. 
"And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at this moment in the environs of Rome?" 
"And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave an example." 
"Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" 
"Why, you see, he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains, the fishermen of the Tiber, and the smugglers of the coast. They seek for him in the mountains, and he is on the waters; they follow him on the waters, and he is on the open sea; then they pursue him, and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands, at Giglio, Guanouti, or Monte Cristo; and when they hunt for him there, he reappears suddenly at Albano, Tivoli, or La Riccia." 
"And how does he behave towards travellers?" 
"Alas! his plan is very simple. It depends on the distance he may be from the city, whether he gives eight hours, twelve hours, or a day wherein to pay their ransom; and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace. At the sixtieth minute of this hour, if the money is not forthcoming, he blows out the prisoner's brains with a pistol-shot, or plants his dagger in his heart, and that settles the account." 
"Well, Albert," inquired Franz of his companion, "are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?" 
"Quite so," said Albert, "if the way be picturesque." The clock struck nine as the door opened, and a coachman appeared. "Excellencies," said he, "the coach is ready." 
"Well, then," said Franz, "let us to the Colosseum." 
"By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets, your excellencies?" 
"By the streets, morbleu, by the streets!" cried Franz. 
"Ah, my dear fellow," said Albert, rising, and lighting his third cigar, "really, I thought you had more courage." So saying, the two young men went down the staircase, and got into the carriage.  
第二天早晨，弗兰兹先醒了，他一醒来就拉铃叫人。铃声未绝，派里尼老板就亲自进来了。 
“啊，阁下，”店主不等弗兰兹问他，就得意地说，“昨天我不敢答应你们，因为你们来得太晚了，马车一辆都雇不到了，就是说，在狂欢节的最后三天里。” 
“是的，”弗兰兹答道，“就是在那最最关键的几天里。” 
“什么事？”阿尔贝进来问道，“雇不到马车吗？” 
“一点不错，我的好人，”弗兰兹说道，“你是第一遭碰到这样的事吧。” 
“好吧！你们这座名垂千古的大城真是一个呱呱叫的好城市。” 
“我是说，先生，”派里尼很想在他的客人面前保持基督世界首都的尊严，就回答说，“从星期天到星期二晚上没有车，但从现在到星期天，您要五十辆都有。” 
“啊！那还有点想头，”阿尔贝说道，“今天是星期二，谁能料到从现在到星期天之间会发生什么事呢？” 
“会有一万个或一万二千个旅客到来，”弗兰兹答道，“那找车子就会更困难。” 
“我的朋友，”马尔塞夫说道，“让我们尽情享受现在吧，别去担心将来了。” 
“至少，”弗兰兹问道，“我们可以租到一个窗口吧？” 
“哪儿的？ 
“当然要望得到高碌街的呀。” 
“啊，一个窗口！”派里尼老板大声说道，“绝对不可能。杜丽亚宫的六层楼上本来还剩一个，但已经以每天二十威尼斯金洋的租金租给一位俄国亲王了。” 
两个青年人瞠目结舌地互相望了一下。 
“喂，”弗兰兹对阿尔贝说，“你知道我们最好的办法是什么？是到威尼斯去度狂欢节，那儿我们即使雇不到马车，一定可以弄到一只小艇的。” 
“啊，见鬼！不，”阿尔贝大声说道。“我到罗马就是来看狂欢节的，我非看到它不可，就是叫我踩着高跷也要看。” 
“这个念头妙极了，那样对吹灭蜡烛头再方便不过了。我们可以扮成滑稽鬼怪或是兰德斯牧童，就可以大获全胜了。” 
“从现在到星期天早晨，两位阁下还要雇马车吗？” 
“咦！”阿尔贝说，“你以为我们准备象律师的小伙计那样用两只脚在罗马的街上跑吗？” 
“我
Chapter 34 The Colosseum
 FRANZ HAD so managed his route, that during the ride to the Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin, so that no preliminary impression interfered to mitigate the colossal proportions of the gigantic building they came to admire. The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina; then by cutting off the right angle of the street in which stands Santa Maria Maggiore and proceeding by the Via Urbana and San Pietro in Vincoli, the travellers would find themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. This itinerary possessed another great advantage,--that of leaving Franz at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject of Signor Pastrini's story, in which his mysterious host of Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up. Seated with folded arms in a corner of the carriage, he continued to ponder over the singular history he had so lately listened to, and to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching its various circumstances without, however, arriving at a satisfactory reply to any of them. One fact more than the rest brought his friend "Sinbad the Sailor" back to his recollection, and that was the mysterious sort of intimacy that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors; and Pastrini's account of Vampa's having found refuge on board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen, reminded Franz of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably with the crew of the little yacht, which had even deviated from its course and touched at Porto-Vecchio for the sole purpose of landing them. The very name assumed by his host of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the H?tel de Londres, abundantly proved to him that his island friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of Piombino, Civita-Vecchio, Ostia, and Gaeta, as on those of Corsica, Tuscany, and Spain; and further, Franz bethought him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of Tunis and Palermo, proving thereby how largely his circle of acquaintances extended. 
But however the mind of the young man might he absorbed in these reflections, they were at once dispersed at the sight of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum, through the various openings of which the pale moonlight played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes of the wandering dead. The carriage stopped near the Meta Sudans; the door was opened, and the young men, eagerly alighting, found themselves opposite a cicerone, who appeared to have sprung up from the ground, so unexpected was his appearance. 
The usual guide from the hotel having followed them, they had paid two conductors, nor is it possible, at Rome, to avoid this abundant supply of guides; besides the ordinary cicerone, who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your hotel, and never quits you while you remain in the city, there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument--nay, almost to each part of a monument. It may, therefore, be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides at the Colosseum, that wonder of all ages, which Martial thus eulogizes: "Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous miracles of her pyramids, and the wonders of Babylon be talked of no more among us; all must bow to the superiority of the gigantic labor of the C?sars, and the many voices of Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this incomparable monument." 
As for Albert and Franz, they essayed not to escape from their ciceronian tyrants; and, indeed, it would have been so much the more difficult to break their bondage, as the guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with torches in their hands. Thus, then, the young men made no attempt at resistance, but blindly and confidingly surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their conductors. Albert had already made seven or eight similar excursions to the Colosseum, while his less favored companion trod for the first time in his life the classic ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian; and, to his credit be it spoken, his mind, even amid the glib loquacity of the guides, was duly and deeply touched with awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw; and certainly no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed save by such as have visited them, and more especially by moonlight, at which time the vast proportions of the building appear twice as large when viewed by the mysterious beams of a southern moonlit sky, whose rays are sufficiently clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to the soft twilight of an eastern clime. Scarcely, therefore, had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the interior porticoes of the ruin, than, abandoning Albert to the guides (who would by no means yield their prescriptive right of carrying their victims through the routine regularly laid down, and as regularly followed by them, but dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal, beginning, as a matter of course, with the Lions' Den, and finishing with C?sar's "Podium,"), to escape a jargon and mechanical survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded, Franz ascended a half-dilapidated staircase, and, leaving them to follow their monotonous round, seated himself at the foot of a column, and immediately opposite a large aperture, which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. 
Franz had remained for nearly a quarter of an hour perfectly hidden by the shadow of the vast column at whose base he had found a resting-place, and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides, who, holding torches in their hands, had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum, and then again disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins, resembling, as they glided along, some restless shades following the flickering glare of so many ignes-fatui. All at once his ear caught a sound resembling that of a stone rolling down the staircase opposite the one by which he had himself ascended. There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below; but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot, and also that some one, who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard, was approaching the spot where he sat. Conjecture soon became certainty, for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz, gradually emerging from the staircase opposite, upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. 
The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who, like Franz, preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it; but the hesitation with which he proceeded, stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took, convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. By a sort of instinctive impulse, Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were, the roof had given way, leaving a large round opening, through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven, thickly studded with stars. Around this opening, which had, possibly, for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile, grew a quantity of creeping plants, whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament, while large masses of thick, strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm, and hung floating to and fro, like so many waving strings. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half-light, that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features, although his dress was easily made out. He wore a large brown mantle, one fold of which, thrown over his left shoulder, served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance, while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon, which, entering through the broken ceiling, shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather, over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. 
From the imperfect means Franz had of judging, he could only come to one conclusion,--that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. Some few minutes had elapsed, and the stranger began to show manifest signs of impatience, when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof, and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it, and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him; then, as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle, he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs, and glided down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground, and then leaped lightly on his feet. The man who had performed this daring act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume. "I beg your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting," said the man, in the Roman dialect, "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time, ten o'clock his just struck on the Lateran." 
"Say not a word about being late," replied the stranger in purest Tuscan; "'tis I who am too soon. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while, I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours." 
"Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking," said the man; "I came here direct from the Castle of St. Angelo, and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo." 
"And who is Beppo?" 
"Oh, Beppo is employed in the prison, and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's castle." 
"Indeed! You are a provident person, I see." 
"Why, you see, no one knows what may happen. Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped, like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net, and so help me out of prison." 
"Briefly, what did you glean?" 
"That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to-morrow at two o'clock, as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals. One of the culprits will be mazzolato; [1] he is an atrocious villain, who murdered the priest who brought him up, and deserves not the smallest pity. The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato; [2] and he, your excellency, is poor Peppino." 
"The fact is, that you have inspired not only the pontifical government, but also the neighboring states, with such extreme fear, that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example." 
"But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd, whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions." 
"Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes. But mark the distinction with which he is treated; instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you, he is simply sentenced to be guillotined, by which means, too, the amusements of the day are diversified, and there is a spectacle to please every spectator." 
"Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with." 
"My good friend," said the man in the cloak, "excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act." 
"Perhaps I am; but one thing I have resolved on, and that is, to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty, who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity." 
"And what do you mean to do?" 
"To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men, who, at a signal from me, will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution, and, by the assistance of their stilettos, drive back the guard, and carry off the prisoner." 
"That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain, and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours." 
"And what is your excellency's project?" 
"Just this. I will so advantageously bestow 2,000 piastres, that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino; and during that year, another skilfully placed 1,000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison." 
"And do you feel sure of succeeding?" 
"" exclaimed the man in the cloak, suddenly expressing himself in French. 
"What did your excellency say?" inquired the other. 
"I said, my good fellow, that I would do more single-handed by the means of gold than you and all your troop could effect with stilettos, pistols, carbines, and blunderbusses included. Leave me, then, to act, and have no fears for the result." 
"At least, there can be no harm in myself and party being in readiness, in case your excellency should fail." 
"None whatever. Take what precautions you please, if it is any satisfaction to you to do so; but rely upon my obtaining the reprieve I seek." 
"Remember, the execution is fixed for the day after tomorrow, and that you have but one day to work in." 
"And what of that? Is not a day divided into twenty-four hours, each hour into sixty minutes, and every minute sub-divided into sixty seconds? Now in 86,400 seconds very many things can be done." 
"And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded or not." 
"Oh, that is very easily arranged. I have engaged the three lower windows at the Café Rospoli; should I have obtained the requisite pardon for Peppino, the two outside windows will be hung with yellow damasks, and the centre with white, having a large cross in red marked on it." 
"And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the officer directing the execution?" 
"Send one of your men, disguised as a penitent friar, and I will give it to him. His dress will procure him the means of approaching the scaffold itself, and he will deliver the official order to the officer, who, in his turn, will hand it to the executioner; in the meantime, it will be as well to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on, if it be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses, because in either case a very useless expense will have been incurred." 
"Your excellency," said the man, "you are fully persuaded of my entire devotion to you, are you not?" 
"Nay, I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it," replied the cavalier in the cloak. 
"Well, then, only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino, and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion, but the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me that one human being can render to another." 
"Have a care how far you pledge yourself, my good friend, for I may remind you of your promise at some, perhaps, not very distant period, when I, in my turn, may require your aid and influence." 
"Let that day come sooner or later, your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble; and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing, you may regard it as done, for done it shall be, on the word and faith of"-- 
"Hush!" interrupted the stranger; "I hear a noise." 
"'Tis some travellers, who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight." 
"'Twere better we should not be seen together; those guides are nothing but spies, and might possibly recognize you; and, however I may be honored by your friendship, my worthy friend, if once the extent of our intimacy were known, I am sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer thereby." 
"Well, then, if you obtain the reprieve?" 
"The middle window at the Café Rospoli will be hung with white damask, bearing a red cross." 
"And if you fail?" 
"Then all three windows will have yellow draperies." 
"And then?" 
"And then, my good fellow, use your daggers in any way you please, and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess." 
"We understand each other perfectly, then. Adieu, your excellency; depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you." 
Saying these words, the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase, while his companion, muffling his features more closely than before in the folds of his mantle, passed almost close to Franz, and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert, who made the lofty building re-echo with the sound of his friend's name. Franz, however, did not obey the summons till he had satisfied himself that the two men whose conversation he had overheard were at a sufficient distance to prevent his encountering them in his descent. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed, Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni, listening with studied indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by Albert, after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius, touching the iron-pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. Franz let him proceed without interruption, and, in fact, did not hear what was said; he longed to be alone, and free to ponder over all that had occurred. One of the two men, whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed, was an entire stranger to him, but not so the other; and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features, from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow, the tones of his voice had made too powerful an impression on him the first time he had heard them for him ever again to forget them, hear them when or where he might. It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting, half bitter, that Franz's ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous, yet well-pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo, and which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. And the more he thought, the more entire was his conviction, that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer, "Sinbad the Sailor." 
Under any other circumstances, Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage, and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance; but in the present instance, the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him, with propriety, judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. As we have seen, therefore, he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition, but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him; in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. Slumber refused to visit his eyelids and the night was passed in feverish contemplation of the chain of circumstances tending to prove the identity of the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum with the inhabitant of the grotto of Monte Cristo; and the more he thought, the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. Worn out at length, he fell asleep at daybreak, and did not awake till late. Like a genuine Frenchman, Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion; he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino; and Franz, having a number of letters to write, relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. At five o'clock Albert returned, delighted with his day's work; he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction, and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept; besides this, he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. Yes, in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino, and also what performers appeared in it. 
The opera of Parisina was announced for representation, and the principal actors were Coselli, Moriani, and La Specchia. The young men, therefore, had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of Lucia di Lammermoor, supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres, with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see, and the absence of balconies, or open boxes; all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes, and had shared a lower box at the Opera. Still, in spite of this, Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres; but, alas, his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away, and one of the most worthy representatives of Parisian fashion had to carry with him the mortifying reflection that he had nearly overrun Italy without meeting with a single adventure. 
Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success; but internally he was deeply wounded, and his self-love immensely piqued, to think that Albert de Morcerf, the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day, should thus be passed over, and merely have his labor for his pains. And the thing was so much the more annoying, as, according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman, Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him, and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love-affairs. Alas, poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way; the lovely Genoese, Florentines, and Neapolitans were all faithful, if not to their husbands, at least to their lovers, and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf; and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France, that they are faithful even in their infidelity. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy, as elsewhere, there might be an exception to the general rule. Albert, besides being an elegant, well-looking young man, was also possessed of considerable talent and ability; moreover, he was a viscount--a recently created one, certainly, but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent, and a genealogical tree is equally estimated, whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815; but to crown all these advantages, Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50,000 livres, a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. It was therefore no small mortification to him to have visited most of the principal cities in Italy without having excited the most trifling observation. Albert, however, hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival, knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated, Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives, and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. 
The Carnival was to commence on the morrow; therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes, expectations, and claims to notice. With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre, and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle; although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic, and is, for this reason, generally styled the "nobility's boxes," and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons, it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection of his seat,--who knew but that, thus advantageously placed, he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman, and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage, or a place in a princely balcony, from which he might behold the gayeties of the Carnival? These united considerations made Albert more lively and anxious to please than he had hitherto been. Totally disregarding the business of the stage, he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman, aided by a powerful opera-glass; but, alas, this attempt to attract notice wholly failed; not even curiosity had been excited, and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures, into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing, were all so much engrossed with themselves, their lovers, or their own thoughts, that they had not so much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass. 
The truth was, that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival, with the "holy week" that was to succeed it, so filled every fair breast, as to prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of; at certain conventional moments, the spectators would suddenly cease their conversation, or rouse themselves from their musings, to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's, a well-executed recitative by Coselli, or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia; but that momentary excitement over, they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation. Towards the close of the first act, the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened; a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris, where indeed, he had imagined she still was. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival, and, turning to him, he said hastily, "Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?" 
"Yes; what do you think of her?" 
"Oh, she is perfectly lovely--what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?" 
"No; a Venetian." 
"And her name is--" 
"Countess G----." 
"Ah, I know her by name!" exclaimed Albert; "she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's ball." 
"Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked Franz. 
"My dear fellow, are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?" 
"Why, I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life; but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask." At that instant, the countess perceived Franz, and graciously waved her hand to him, to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. "Upon my word," said Albert, "you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess." 
"You are mistaken in thinking so," returned Franz calmly; "but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders,--I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions; believe me, nothing is more fallacious than to form any estimate of the degree of intimacy you may suppose existing among persons by the familiar terms they seem upon; there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess--nothing more." 
"Is there, indeed, my good fellow? Pray tell me, is it sympathy of heart?" 
"No; of taste," continued Franz gravely. 
"And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?" 
"By the countess's visiting the Colosseum, as we did last night, by moonlight, and nearly alone." 
"You were with her, then?" 
"I was." 
"And what did you say to her?" 
"Oh, we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!" 
"Upon my word," cried Albert, "you must have been a very entertaining companion alone, or all but alone, with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum, and yet to find nothing better a talk about than the dead! All I can say is, if ever I should get such a chance, the living should be my theme." 
"And you will probably find your theme ill-chosen." 
"But," said Albert, breaking in upon his discourse, "never mind the past; let us only remember the present. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?" 
"Certainly, directly the curtain falls on the stage." 
"What a confounded time this first act takes. I believe, on my soul, that they never mean to finish it." 
"Oh, yes, they will; only listen to that charming finale. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part." 
"But what an awkward, inelegant fellow he is." 
"Well, then, what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?" 
"Why, you know, my dear fellow, when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag, such singers as these don't make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others." 
"At least, you must admire Moriani's style and execution." 
"I never fancied men of his dark, ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman's." 
"My good friend," said Franz, turning to him, while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre, "you seem determined not to approve; you are really too difficult to please." The curtain at length fell on the performances, to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of Morcerf, who seized his hat, rapidly passed his fingers through his hair, arranged his cravat and wristbands, and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. Franz, who had mutely interrogated the countess, and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome, sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's eager impatience, but began at once the tour of the house, closely followed by Albert, who availed himself of the few minutes required to reach the opposite side of the theatre to settle the height and smoothness of his collar, and to arrange the lappets of his coat. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. At the knock, the door was immediately opened, and the young man who was seated beside the countess, in obedience to the Italian custom, instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers, who, in turn, would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. 
Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day, both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents; nor did he say more than the truth, for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount moved, he was looked upon and cited as a model of perfection. Franz added that his companion, deeply grieved at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the countess during her sojourn in Paris, was most anxious to make up for it, and had requested him (Franz) to remedy the past misfortune by conducting him to her box, and concluded by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon himself to do so. The countess, in reply, bowed gracefully to Albert, and extended her hand with cordial kindness to Franz; then, inviting Albert to take the vacant seat beside her, she recommended Franz to take the next best, if he wished to view the ballet, and pointed to the one behind her own chair. Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing upon Paris and Parisian matters, speaking to the countess of the various persons they both knew there. Franz perceived how completely he was in his element; and, unwilling to interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt, took up Albert's glass, and began in his turn to survey the audience. Sitting alone, in the front of a box immediately opposite, but situated on the third row, was a woman of exquisite beauty, dressed in a Greek costume, which evidently, from the ease and grace with which she wore it, was her national attire. Behind her, but in deep shadow, was the outline of a masculine figure; but the features of this latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. Franz could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently interesting conversation passing between the countess and Albert, to inquire of the former if she knew who was the fair Albanian opposite, since beauty such as hers was well worthy of being observed by either sex. "All I can tell about her," replied the countess, "is, that she has been at Rome since the beginning of the season; for I saw her where she now sits the very first night of the season, and since then she has never missed a performance. Sometimes she is accompanied by the person who is now with her, and at others she is merely attended by a black servant." 
"And what do you think of her personal appearance?" 
"Oh, I consider her perfectly lovely--she is just my idea of what Medora must have been." 
Franz and the countess exchanged a smile, and then the latter resumed her conversation with Albert, while Franz returned to his previous survey of the house and company. The curtain rose on the ballet, which was one of those excellent specimens of the Italian school, admirably arranged and put on the stage by Henri, who has established for himself a great reputation throughout Italy for his taste and skill in the choregraphic art--one of those masterly productions of grace, method, and elegance in which the whole corps de ballet, from the principal dancers to the humblest supernumerary, are all engaged on the stage at the same time; and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen exhibiting the same attitude, or elevating the same arm or leg with a simultaneous movement, that would lead you to suppose that but one mind, one act of volition, influenced the moving mass--the ballet was called "Poliska." However much the ballet might have claimed his attention, Franz was too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any note of it; while she seemed to experience an almost childlike delight in watching it, her eager, animated looks contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her companion, who, during the whole time the piece lasted, never even moved, not even when the furious, crashing din produced by the trumpets, cymbals, and Chinese bells sounded their loudest from the orchestra. Of this he took no heed, but was, as far as appearances might be trusted, enjoying soft repose and bright celestial dreams. The ballet at length came to a close, and the curtain fell amid the loud, unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted audience. 
Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of the opera with a ballet, the pauses between the performances are very short, the singers in the opera having time to repose themselves and change their costume, when necessary, while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and exhibiting their graceful steps. The overture to the second act began; and, at the first sound of the leader's bow across his violin, Franz observed the sleeper slowly arise and approach the Greek girl, who turned around to say a few words to him, and then, leaning forward again on the railing of her box, she became as absorbed as before in what was going on. The countenance of the person who had addressed her remained so completely in the shade, that, though Franz tried his utmost, he could not distinguish a single feature. The curtain rose, and the attention of Franz was attracted by the actors; and his eyes turned from the box containing the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the business of the stage. 
Most of my readers are aware that the second act of Parisina opens with the celebrated and effective duet in which Parisina, while sleeping, betrays to Azzo the secret of her love for Ugo. The injured husband goes through all the emotions of jealousy, until conviction seizes on his mind, and then, in a frenzy of rage and indignation, he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. This duet is one of the most beautiful, expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. Franz now listened to it for the third time; yet it's notes, so tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and passions, thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor, Franz rose with the audience, and was about to join the loud, enthusiastic applause that followed; but suddenly his purpose was arrested, his hands fell by his sides, and the half-uttered "bravos" expired on his lips. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed; for he left his seat to stand up in front, so that, his countenance being fully revealed, Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo, and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum, and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. All doubt of his identity was now at an end; his singular host evidently resided at Rome. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features; for the countess, after gazing with a puzzled look at his face, burst into a fit of laughter, and begged to know what had happened. "Countess," returned Franz, totally unheeding her raillery, "I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite; I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?" 
"Nay," answered the countess, "I know no more of him than yourself." 
"Perhaps you never before noticed him?" 
"What a question--so truly French! Do you not know that we Italians have eyes only for the man we love?" 
"True," replied Franz. 
"All I call say is," continued the countess, taking up the lorgnette, and directing it toward the box in question, "that the gentleman, whose history I am unable to furnish, seems to me as though he had just been dug up; he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave-digger to quit his tomb for a while, and revisit this earth of ours, than anything human. How ghastly pale he is!" 
"Oh, he is always as colorless as you now see him," said Franz. 
"Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess. "Oh, pray do, for heaven's sake, tell us all about--is he a vampire, or a resuscitated corpse, or what?" 
"I fancy I have seen him before; and I even think he recognizes me." 
"And I can well understand," said the countess, shrugging up her beautiful shoulders, as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins, "that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him." The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself; another, and wholly uninterested person, felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving. "Well." inquired Franz, after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box, "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" 
"Why, that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form." This fresh allusion to Byron drew a smile to Franz's countenance; although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires, it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him. 
"I must positively find out who and what he is," said Franz, rising from his seat. 
"No, no," cried the countess; "you must not leave me. I depend upon you to escort me home. Oh, indeed, I cannot permit you to go." 
"Is it possible," whispered Franz, "that you entertain any fear?" 
"I'll tell you," answered the countess. "Byron had the most perfect belief in the existence of vampires, and even assured me that he had seen them. The description he gave me perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the man before us. Oh, he is the exact personification of what I have been led to expect! The coal-black hair, large bright, glittering eyes, in which a wild, unearthly fire seems burning,--the same ghastly paleness. Then observe, too, that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of her sex. She is a foreigner--a stranger. Nobody knows who she is, or where she comes from. No doubt she belongs to the same horrible race he does, and is, like himself, a dealer in magical arts. I entreat of you not to go near him--at least to-night; and if to-morrow your curiosity still continues as great, pursue your researches if you will; but to-night you neither can nor shall. For that purpose I mean to keep you all to myself." Franz protested he could not defer his pursuit till the following day, for many reasons. "Listen to me," said the countess, "and do not be so very headstrong. I am going home. I have a party at my house to-night, and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end of the opera. Now, I cannot for one instant believe you so devoid of gallantry as to refuse a lady your escort when she even condescends to ask you for it." 
There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat, open the door of the box, and offer the countess his arm. It was quite evident, by her manner, that her uneasiness was not feigned; and Franz himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread--so much the stronger in him, as it arose from a variety of corroborative recollections, while the terror of the countess sprang from an instinctive belief, originally created in her mind by the wild tales she had listened to till she believed them truths. Franz could even feel her arm tremble as he assisted her into the carriage. Upon arriving at her hotel, Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of expecting company; on the contrary, her own return before the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. "Excuse my little subterfuge," said the countess, in reply to her companion's half-reproachful observation on the subject; "but that horrid man had made me feel quite uncomfortable, and I longed to be alone, that I might compose my startled mind." Franz essayed to smile. "Nay," said she, "do not smile; it ill accords with the expression of your countenance, and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. however, promise me one thing." 
"What is it?" 
"Promise me, I say." 
"I will do anything you desire, except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is, from whence he came, and whither he is going." 
"Where he comes from I am ignorant; but I can readily tell you where he is going to, and that is down below, without the least doubt." 
"Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make," said Franz. 
"Well, then, you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel, and make no attempt to follow this man to-night. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. For heaven's sake, do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you please; but never bring him near me, if you would not see me die of terror. And now, good-night; go to your rooms, and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. For my own part, I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes." So saying, the countess quitted Franz, leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense, or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. 
Upon his return to the hotel, Franz found Albert in his dressing-gown and slippers, listlessly extended on a sofa, smoking a cigar. "My dear fellow." cried he, springing up, "is it really you? Why, I did not expect to see you before to-morrow." 
"My dear Albert," replied Franz, "I am glad of this opportunity to tell you, once and forever, that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. I should have thought the continual failures you have met with in all your own love affairs might have taught you better by this time." 
"Upon my soul, these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright. Why, here--they give you their hand--they press yours in return--they keep up a whispering conversation--permit you to accompany them home. Why, if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention, her reputation would be gone forever." 
"And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions, is because they live so much in public, and have really nothing to conceal. Besides, you must have perceived that the countess was really alarmed." 
"At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now, for my part, I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece; and hang me, if I can guess where you took your notions of the other world from. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine-looking fellow--admirably dressed. Indeed, I feel quite sure, from the cut of his clothes, they are made by a first-rate Paris tailor--probably Blin or Humann. He was rather too pale, certainly; but then, you know, paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding." Franz smiled; for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. 
"Well, that tends to confirm my own ideas," said Franz, "that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?" 
"I did; but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. I don't know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather--rather strong in Greek." 
"He spoke the Romaic language, did he?" 
"I think so." 
"That settles it," murmured Franz. "'Tis he, past all doubt." 
"What do you say?" 
"Nothing, nothing. But tell me, what were you thinking about when I came in?" 
"Oh, I was arranging a little surprise for you." 
"Indeed. Of what nature?" 
"Why, you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage." 
"Certainly; and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one." 
"Now, then, in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain." Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination. "I tell you what, Sir Franz," cried Albert, "you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now." 
"And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert." 
"Well, then, hearken to me." 
"I listen." 
"You agree, do you not, that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?" 
"I do." 
"Neither can we procure horses?" 
"True; we have offered any sum, but have failed." 
"Well, now, what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had." 
"Very possibly." 
"And a pair of oxen?" 
"As easily found as the cart." 
"Then you see, my good fellow, with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed. The cart must be tastefully ornamented; and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers, we may get up a striking tableau, after the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. Our group would then be quite complete, more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna." 
"Well," said Franz, "this time, Albert, I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea." 
"And quite a national one, too," replied Albert with gratified pride. "A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. Ha, ha, ye Romans! you thought to make us, unhappy strangers, trot at the heels of your processions, like so many lazzaroni, because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city. But you don't know us; when we can't have one thing we invent another." 
"And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?" 
"Only to our host. Upon my return home I sent for him, and I then explained to him what I wished to procure. He assured me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired. One thing I was sorry for; when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded, he told me there would not be time, as it would require three days to do that; so you see we must do without this little superfluity." 
"And where is he now?" 
"Who?" 
"Our host." 
"Gone out in search of our equipage, by to-morrow it might be too late." 
"Then he will be able to give us an answer to-night." 
"Oh, I expect him every minute." 
At this instant the door opened, and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. 
"Permesso?" inquired he. 
"Certainly--certainly," cried Franz. "Come in, mine host." 
"Now, then," asked Albert eagerly, "have you found the desired cart and oxen?" 
"Better than that!" replied Signor Pastrini, with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself. 
"Take care, my worthy host," said Albert, "better is a sure enemy to well." 
"Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me," returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded self-confidence. 
"But what have you done?" asked Franz. "Speak out, there's a worthy fellow." 
"Your excellencies are aware," responded the landlord, swelling with importance, "that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the same floor with yourselves!" 
"I should think we did know it," exclaimed Albert, "since it is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small rooms, like two poor students in the back streets of Paris." 
"When, then, the Count of Monte Cristo, hearing of the dilemma in which you are placed, has sent to offer you seats in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli." The friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise. 
"But do you think," asked Albert, "that we ought to accept such offers from a perfect stranger?" 
"What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" asked Franz of his host. "A very great nobleman, but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say; but this I know, that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine." 
"It seems to me," said Franz, speaking in an undertone to Albert, "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord, he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel, and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. He would have written--or"-- 
At this instant some one knocked at the door. "Come in," said Franz. A servant, wearing a livery of considerable style and richness, appeared at the threshold, and, placing two cards in the landlord's hands, who forthwith presented them to the two young men, he said, "Please to deliver these, from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M. Franz d'Epinay. The Count of Monte Cristo," continued the servant, "begs these gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor, and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him." 
"Faith, Franz," whispered Albert, "there is not much to find fault with here." 
"Tell the count," replied Franz, "that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him." The servant bowed and retired. 
"That is what I call an elegant mode of attack," said Albert, "You were quite correct in what you said, Signor Pastrini. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate breeding and knowledge of the world." 
"Then you accept his offer?" said the host. 
"Of course we do," replied Albert. "Still, I must own I am sorry to be obliged to give up the cart and the group of reapers--it would have produced such an effect! And were it not for the windows at the Palazzo Rospoli, by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme, I don't know but what I should have held on by my original plan. What say you, Franz?" 
"Oh, I agree with you; the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me." The truth was, that the mention of two places in the Palazzo Rospoli had recalled to Franz the conversation he had overheard the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum between the mysterious unknown and the Transteverin, in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal; and if this muffled-up individual proved (as Franz felt sure he would) the same as the person he had just seen in the Teatro Argentino, then he should be able to establish his identity, and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor, and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce. The next day must clear up every doubt; and unless his near neighbor and would-be friend, the Count of Monte Cristo, possessed the ring of Gyges, and by its power was able to render himself invisible, it was very certain he could not escape this time. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed, while Albert, who had not the same motives for early rising, was still soundly asleep. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord, who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. 
"Pray, Signor Pastrini," asked Franz, "is not some execution appointed to take place to-day?" 
"Yes, your excellency; but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from, you are much too late." 
"Oh, no," answered Franz, "I had no such intention; and even if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle, I might have done so from Monte Pincio--could I not?" 
"Ah!" exclaimed mine host, "I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that hill, which, indeed, they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves." 
"Very possibly I may not go," answered Franz; "but in case I feel disposed, give me some particulars of to-day's executions." 
"What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" 
"Why, the number of persons condemned to suffer, their names, and description of the death they are to die." 
"That happens just lucky, your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas." 
"What are they?" 
"Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution, on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons, their crimes, and mode of punishment. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is, that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits, and, above all, beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance." 
"And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to those of the faithful, are they?" asked Franz somewhat incredulously. 
"Oh, dear, no, your excellency! I have not time for anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests; but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers, and he brings them to me as he would the playbills, that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution, he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc." 
"Upon my word, that is a most delicate attention on your part, Signor Pastrini," cried Franz. 
"Why, your excellency," returned the landlord, chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency, "I think I may take upon myself to say I neglect nothing to deserve the support and patronage of the noble visitors to this poor hotel." 
"I see that plainly enough, my most excellent host, and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go. Meanwhile, oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas." 
"Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish," said the landlord, opening the door of the chamber; "I have caused one to be placed on the landing, close by your apartment." Then, taking the tablet from the wall, he handed it to Franz, who read as follows:-- 
"'The public is informed that on Wednesday, February 23d, being the first day of the Carnival, executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo, by order of the Tribunal of the Rota, of two persons, named Andrea Rondola, and Peppino, otherwise called Rocca Priori; the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest, named Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran; and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit, Luigi Vampa, and his band. The first-named malefactor will be mazzolato, the second culprit, decapitato. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men, that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt, and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes.'" 
This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum. No part of the programme differed,--the names of the condemned persons, their crimes, and mode of punishment, all agreed with his previous information. In all probability, therefore, the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself, and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad the Sailor," but who, no doubt, was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome, as he had already done at Porto-Vecchio and Tunis. Time was getting on, however, and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert; but at the moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber, his friend entered the room in perfect costume for the day. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. "Now, my excellent Signor Pastrini," said Franz, addressing his landlord, "since we are both ready, do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"Most assuredly," replied he. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser; and I can answer for his having been up these two hours." 
"Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?" 
"Oh, I am quite sure. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error." 
"Well, then, if it be so, are you ready, Albert?" 
"Perfectly." 
"Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy." 
"Yes, let us do so." The landlord preceded the friends across the landing, which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count, rang at the bell, and, upon the door being opened by a servant, said, "I signori Francesi." 
The domestic bowed respectfully, and invited them to enter. They passed through two rooms, furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini, and were shown into an elegantly fitted-up drawing-room. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor, and the softest and most inviting couches, easy-chairs, and sofas, offered their high-piled and yielding cushions to such as desired repose or refreshment. Splendid paintings by the first masters were ranged against the walls, intermingled with magnificent trophies of war, while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the different doors of the room. "If your excellencies will please to be seated," said the man, "I will let the count know that you are here." 
And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried portières. As the door opened, the sound of a guzla reached the ears of the young men, but was almost immediately lost, for the rapid closing of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. Franz and Albert looked inquiringly at each other, then at the gorgeous furnishings of the apartment. Everything seemed more magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first rapid survey. 
"Well," said Franz to his friend, "what think you of all this?" 
"Why, upon my soul, my dear fellow, it strikes me that our elegant and attentive neighbor must either be some successful stock-jobber who has speculated in the fall of the Spanish funds, or some prince travelling incog." 
"Hush, hush!" replied Franz; "we shall ascertain who and what he is--he comes!" As Franz spoke, he heard the sound of a door turning on its hinges, and almost immediately afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside, and the owner of all these riches stood before the two young men. Albert instantly rose to meet him, but Franz remained, in a manner, spellbound on his chair; for in the person of him who had just entered he recognized not only the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum, and the occupant of the box at the Teatro Argentino, but also his extraordinary host of Monte Cristo.  
弗兰兹所指定的路线很巧妙，使他们到斗兽场去的路上一座古迹也不经过，这样，头脑里便不会因为看多了这些古迹，而影响了他们去欣赏那座庞大建筑物的兴致。他所选定的路线是先沿着西斯蒂纳街走，到圣·玛丽亚教堂向右转，顺着乌巴那街和圣·彼得街折入文卡利街，到了文卡利街，游客们就会发现他们已正对着斗兽场了。走这条路线另外还有一大优点，就是可以让弗兰兹自由自在地去深思冥想，把派里尼老板讲述给他听的那个故事思索一番，因为，他那位住在基督山岛的神秘的东道主竟也出现在那个故事里。他交叉着两臂靠在马车的一个角落里，揣摩着刚才所听到的那一篇奇闻，他想出了无数有关的问题来自问，但没有一个问题能得到满意的答复。在一个事实最能使他联想起他的朋友“水手辛巴德”来，就是，在土匪和水手之间，似乎存在着一种密切的神秘关系。 
派里尼说万帕常常躲避到走私贩子和渔夫的船上去，这使弗兰兹想起他自己也曾看到那两个科西嘉强盗和那艘小游艇的船员们一起融洽地用餐，那艘小游艇甚至还改变了它的航程，到韦基奥港去靠了一靠，专程送他们上岸。伦敦旅馆的老板也曾提到基督山他那位东道主的化名，他觉得单是这一个名字就足以证明他那位岛上的朋友的博爱行为不但遍及科西嘉，托斯卡纳和西班牙沿岸，而且还同样的遍及皮昂比诺，契维塔·韦基亚，奥斯尼斯和巴勒莫，这可以证明他的交游范围是多么的广大。 
但是，不论这个年轻人是如何专心一致地沉溺在这种种回忆里，他的思绪还是被伟大的斗兽场废墟那一片黑森森的景象打断了，透过废墟的各个门洞，惨白的月光时隐时现地闪烁着，象是孤魂野鬼的眼睛里所射出来的光。马车在苏丹台附近停下来，门是大开着的，这两个青年急忙跳下马车，发觉他们面前已站着一个向导，象是从地底
Chapter 35 La Mazzolata
 "GENTLEMEN," said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered, "I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated; but I feared to disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments; besides, you sent me word that you would come to me, and I have held myself at your disposal." 
"Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times, count," returned Albert; "you extricated us from a great dilemma, and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us." 
"Indeed," returned the count, motioning the two young men to sit down. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini, that I did not sooner assist you in your distress. He did not mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me, when he knows that, alone and isolated as I am, I seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. As soon as I learned I could in any way assist you, I most eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services." The two young men bowed. Franz had, as yet, found nothing to say; he had come to no determination, and as nothing in the count's manner manifested the wish that he should recognize him, he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past, or wait until he had more proof; besides, although sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening, he could not be equally positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. He resolved, therefore, to let things take their course without making any direct overture to the count. Moreover, he had this advantage, he was master of the count's secret, while the count had no hold on Franz, who had nothing to conceal. However, he resolved to lead the conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts. 
"Count," said he, "you have offered us places in your carriage, and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can you tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?" 
"Ah," said the count negligently, looking attentively at Morcerf, "is there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?" 
"Yes," returned Franz, finding that the count was coming to the point he wished. 
"Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this; perhaps I can render you this slight service also." He extended his hand, and rang the bell thrice. 
"Did you ever occupy yourself," said he to Franz, "with the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your servants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet; twice, for my majordomo; thrice, for my steward,--thus I do not waste a minute or a word. Here he is." A man of about forty-five or fifty entered, exactly resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern; but he did not appear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders. "Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "you have procured me windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered you yesterday " 
"Yes, excellency," returned the steward; "but it was very late." 
"Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count, frowning. 
"And your excellency has one, which was let to Prince Lobanieff; but I was obliged to pay a hundred"-- 
"That will do--that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio; spare these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. You have the window, that is sufficient. Give orders to the coachman; and be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it." The steward bowed, and was about to quit the room. "Ah," continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account of the execution." 
"There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out his tablets; "for I saw the account, and copied it down." 
"Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us know when breakfast is ready. These gentlemen," added he, turning to the two friends, "will, I trust, do me the honor to breakfast with me?" 
"But, my dear count," said Albert, "we shall abuse your kindness." 
"Not at all; on the contrary, you will give me great pleasure. You will, one or other of you, perhaps both, return it to me at Paris. M. Bertuccio, lay covers for three." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. "'We announce,' he read, in the same tone with which he would have read a newspaper, 'that to-day, the 23d of February, will be executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on the person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran, and Peppino, called Rocca Priori, convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.' Hum! 'The first will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.' Yes," continued the count, "it was at first arranged in this way; but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony." 
"Really?" said Franz. 
"Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's, and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men." 
"For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz. 
"No," replied the count, carelessly; "for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name), for Peppino, called Rocca Priori. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined; but the mazzuola still remains, which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time, and even the second, while the other, as you must know, is very simple. The [1] never fails, never trembles, never strikes thirty times ineffectually, like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais, and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer. Ah," added the count, in a contemptuous tone, "do not tell me of European punishments, they are in the infancy, or rather the old age, of cruelty." 
"Really, count," replied Franz, "one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world." 
"There are, at least, few that I have not seen," said the count coldly. 
"And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?" 
"My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, the third curiosity." 
"Curiosity--that is a terrible word." 
"Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death; is it not then, curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part; and how, according to their different characters, temperaments, and even the different customs of their countries, different persons bear the transition from life to death, from existence to annihilation? As for myself, I can assure you of one thing,--the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to die yourself; and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but it is not an expiation." 
"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz; "pray explain your meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch." 
"Listen," said the count, and deep hatred mounted to his face, as the blood would to the face of any other. "If a man had by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father, your mother, your betrothed,--a being who, when torn from you, left a desolation, a wound that never closes, in your breast,--do you think the reparation that society gives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of the guillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezal muscles of the murderer, and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?" 
"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice is insufficient to console us; she can give blood in return for blood, that is all; but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant." 
"I will put another case to you," continued the count; "that where society, attacked by the death of a person, avenges death by death. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them, or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks, the augers of the Persians, the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians, are inadequate tortures, and which are unpunished by society? Answer me, do not these crimes exist?" 
"Yes," answered Franz; "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated." 
"Ah, duelling," cried the count; "a pleasant manner, upon my soul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to expect from heaven that portion of happiness God his promised to every one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your heart. And remember, moreover, that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world. No, no," continued the count, "had I to avenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge." 
"Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange theory. 
"Oh, yes," replied the count; "understand me, I would fight a duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the more so that, thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises, and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired, I should be almost certain to kill my man. Oh, I would fight for such a cause; but in return for a slow, profound, eternal torture, I would give back the same, were it possible; an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalists say,--our masters in everything,--those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities." 
"But," said Franz to the count, "with this theory, which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause, it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. Hatred is blind, rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught." 
"Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich and skilful; besides, the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken, and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. What matters this punishment, as long as he is avenged? On my word, I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded, as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts, and whether it is worth even mentioning; but, really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival, gentlemen; how did it arise? Ah, I recollect, you asked for a place at my window; you shall have it; but let us first sit down to table, for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready." As he spoke, a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment, saying--"Al suo commodo!" The two young men arose and entered the breakfast-room. 
During the meal, which was excellent, and admirably served, Franz looked repeatedly at Albert, in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer; but whether with his usual carelessness he had paid but little attention to him, whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with regard to duelling had satisfied him, or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone, he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them, but on the contrary ate like a man who for the last four or five months had been condemned to partake of Italian cookery--that is, the worst in the world. As for the count, he just touched the dishes; he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests, and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in spite of himself, the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G----, and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. "Well," said the count, "what are you doing?" 
"You must excuse us, count," returned Franz, "but we have still much to do." 
"What may that be?" 
"We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procure them." 
"Do not concern yourself about that; we have, I think, a private room in the Piazza del Popolo; I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us, and you can dress there." 
"After the execution?" cried Franz. 
"Before or after, whichever you please." 
"Opposite the scaffold?" 
"The scaffold forms part of the fête." 
"Count, I have reflected on the matter," said Franz, "I thank you for your courtesy, but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace, and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo." 
"But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight," returned the count. 
"You will describe it to me," replied Franz, "and the recital from your lips will make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. I have more than once intended witnessing an execution, but I have never been able to make up my mind; and you, Albert?" 
"I," replied the viscount,--"I saw Castaing executed, but I think I was rather intoxicated that day, for I had quitted college the same morning, and we had passed the previous night at a tavern." 
"Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhere else; when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked, 'How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply, 'I do not know'! And, besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel, who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son. Diable! when a churchman is killed, it should be with a different weapon than a log, especially when he has behaved like a father. If you went to Spain, would you not see the bull-fight? Well, suppose it is a bull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of the Circus, and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators, the sage matrons who took their daughters, and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said, 'Come, despatch the dying.'" 
"Shall you go, then, Albert?" asked Franz. 
"Ma foi! yes; like you, I hesitated, but the count's eloquence decides me." 
"Let us go, then," said Franz, "since you wish it; but on our way to the Piazza del Popolo, I wish to pass through the Corso. Is this possible, count?" 
"On foot, yes, in a carriage, no." 
"I will go on foot, then." 
"Is it important that you should go that way?" 
"Yes, there is something I wish to see." 
"Well, we will go by the Corso. We will send the carriage to wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo, by the Strada del Babuino, for I shall be glad to pass, myself, through the Corso, to see if some orders I have given have been executed." 
"Excellency," said a servant, opening the door, "a man in the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you." 
"Ah, yes" returned the count, "I know who he is, gentlemen; will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on the centre table. I will be with you directly." The young men rose and returned into the salon, while the count, again apologizing, left by another door. Albert, who was a great smoker, and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be deprived of the cigars of the Café de Paris, approached the table, and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable pueros. 
"Well," asked Franz, "what think you of the Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"What do I think?" said Albert, evidently surprised at such a question from his companion; "I think he is a delightful fellow, who does the honors of his table admirably; who has travelled much, read much, is, like Brutus, of the Stoic school, and moreover," added he, sending a volume of smoke up towards the ceiling, "that he has excellent cigars." Such was Albert's opinion of the count, and as Franz well knew that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon long reflection, he made no attempt to change it. "But," said he, "did you observe one very singular thing?" 
"What?" 
"How attentively he looked at you." 
"At me?" 
"Yes."--Albert reflected. "Ah," replied he, sighing, "that is not very surprising; I have been more than a year absent from Paris, and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut; the count takes me for a provincial. The first opportunity you have, undeceive him, I beg, and tell him I am nothing of the kind." Franz smiled; an instant after the count entered. 
"I am now quite at your service, gentlemen," said he. "The carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo, and we will go another; and, if you please, by the Corso. Take some more of these cigars, M. de Morcerf." 
"With all my heart," returned Albert; "Italian cigars are horrible. When you come to Paris, I will return all this." 
"I will not refuse; I intend going there soon, and since you allow me, I will pay you a visit. Come, we have not any time to lose, it is half-past twelve--let us set off." All three descended; the coachman received his master's orders, and drove down the Via del Babuino. While the three gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via Frattina, which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli palaces, Franz's attention was directed towards the windows of that last palace, for he had not forgotten the signal agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the Transtevere peasant. "Which are your windows?" asked he of the count, with as much indifference as he could assume. "The three last," returned he, with a negligence evidently unaffected, for he could not imagine with what intention the question was put. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three windows. The side windows were hung with yellow damask, and the centre one with white damask and a red cross. The man in the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin, and there could now be no doubt that he was the count. The three windows were still untenanted. Preparations were making on every side; chairs were placed, scaffolds were raised, and windows were hung with flags. The masks could not appear; the carriages could not move about; but the masks were visible behind the windows, the carriages, and the doors. 
Franz, Albert, and the count continued to descend the Corso. As they approached the Piazza del Popolo, the crowd became more dense, and above the heads of the multitude two objects were visible: the obelisk, surmounted by a cross, which marks the centre of the square, and in front of the obelisk, at the point where the three streets, del Babuino, del Corso, and di Ripetta, meet, the two uprights of the scaffold, between which glittered the curved knife of the mandaia. At the corner of the street they met the count's steward, who was awaiting his master. The window, let at an exorbitant price, which the count had doubtless wished to conceal from his guests, was on the second floor of the great palace, situated between the Via del Babuino and the Monte Pincio. It consisted, as we have said, of a small dressing-room, opening into a bedroom, and, when the door of communication was shut, the inmates were quite alone. On chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and white satin. "As you left the choice of your costumes to me," said the count to the two friends, "I have had these brought, as they will be the most worn this year; and they are most suitable, on account of the confetti (sweetmeats), as they do not show the flour." 
Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes; for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine,--we say guillotine, because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. [2] The knife, which is shaped like a crescent, that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height, and that is all the difference. Two men, seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid, were eating their breakfasts, while waiting for the criminal. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. One of them lifted the plank, took out a flask of wine, drank some, and then passed it to his companion. These two men were the executioner's assistants. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. The prisoners, transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed the night, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closed by a grating, before which were two sentinels, who were relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placed on each side of the door of the church, reached to the scaffold, and formed a circle around it, leaving a path about ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. Many women held their infants on their shoulders, and thus the children had the best view. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators; the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed; the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea, that was impelled towards the portico; every niche in the wall held its living statue. What the count said was true--the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughter and jests arose from the crowd. It was evident that the execution was, in the eyes of the people, only the commencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult ceased, as if by magic, and the doors of the church opened. A brotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding in their hands lighted tapers, appeared first; the chief marched at the head. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. He was naked, with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge-hammer. This man was the executioner. He had, moreover, sandals bound on his feet by cords. Behind the executioner came, in the order in which they were to die, first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was accompanied by two priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino walked with a firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea was supported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time, kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. He looked at Albert--he was as white as his shirt, and mechanically cast away his cigar, although he had not half smoked it. The count alone seemed unmoved--nay, more, a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey, and his lips, half opened, disclosed his white teeth, small and sharp like those of a jackal. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz had never before witnessed in them; his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. However, the two culprits advanced, and as they approached their faces became visible. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty, bronzed by the sun; he carried his head erect, and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. Andrea was short and fat; his visage, marked with brutal cruelty, did not indicate age; he might be thirty. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow; his head fell on his shoulder, his legs bent beneath him, and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious. 
"I thought," said Franz to the count, "that you told me there would be but one execution." 
"I told you true," replied he coldly. 
"And yet here are two culprits." 
"Yes; but only one of these two is about to die; the other has many years to live." 
"If the pardon is to come, there is no time to lose." 
"And see, here it is," said the count. At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia, a priest arrived in some haste, forced his way through the soldiers, and, advancing to the chief of the brotherhood, gave him a folded paper. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. The chief took the paper, unfolded it, and, raising his hand, "Heaven be praised, and his holiness also," said he in a loud voice; "here is a pardon for one of the prisoners!" 
"A pardon!" cried the people with one voice--"a pardon!" At this cry Andrea raised his head. "Pardon for whom?" cried he. 
Peppino remained breathless. "A pardon for Peppino, called Rocca Priori," said the principal friar. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read and returned it to him. 
"For Peppino!" cried Andrea, who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged. "Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together. I was promised he should die with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. I will not die alone--I will not!" And he broke from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast, and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?" asked Franz of the count; for, as all the talk was in the Roman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. "Do you not see?" returned the count, "that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not perish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear him to pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy the life he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man--race of crocodiles," cried the count, extending his clinched hands towards the crowd, "how well do I recognize you there, and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!" Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground, and he kept exclaiming, "He ought to die!--he shall die!--I will not die alone!" 
"Look, look," cried the count. seizing the young men's hands--"look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate, who was going to the scaffold to die--like a coward, it is true, but he was about to die without resistance. Do you know what gave him strength?--do you know what consoled him? It was, that another partook of his punishment--that another partook of his anguish--that another was to die before him. Lead two sheep to the butcher's, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, and make one of them understand that his companion will not die; the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow with joy. But man--man, whom God created in his own image--man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment, to love his neighbor--man, to whom God has given a voice to express his thoughts--what is his first cry when he hears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man, this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation!" And the count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadful to witness. The people all took part against Andrea, and twenty thousand voices cried, "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, and held him before the window. "What are you doing?" said he. "Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of 'Mad dog!' you would take your gun--you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast, who, after all, was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. And yet you pity a man who, without being bitten by one of his race, has yet murdered his benefactor; and who, now unable to kill any one, because his hands are bound, wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. No, no--look, look!" 
The command was needless. Franz was fascinated by the horribly spectacle. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold, and there, in spite of his struggles, his bites, and his cries, had forced him to his knees. During this time the executioner had raised his mace, and signed to them to get out of the way; the criminal strove to rise, but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. A dull and heavy sound was heard, and the man dropped like an ox on his face, and then turned over on his back. The executioner let fall his mace, drew his knife, and with one stroke opened his throat, and mounting on his stomach, stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank, half fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed, was standing grasping the window-curtains. The count was erect and triumphant, like the Avenging Angel!    
“二位先生，”基督山伯爵一边走进来，一边说道，“请原谅我没有先登们拜访，我怕去得太早，不太合适，而且，你们已传话给我，说你们愿意先来看我，所以我也就恭敬不如从命了。” 
“弗兰兹和我对您万分感谢，伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝答道。“我们正在左右为难，大伤脑筋的时候，您给我们解了围，我们接到您那恳切的邀请的时候，正在发明一种异想天开的车子呢。” 
“真的！”伯爵一边回答，一边请两个青年就座。“这都是那个糊涂的派里尼不好，以致我不能随时帮助你们解决困难。他没有对我提到你们的窘况，我，我很孤单寂寞，很想找一个机会来认识一下我的邻居。我一听到可以帮助你们一下，我就赶紧抓住这个可以效劳的机会。” 
两个青年欠了欠身子。弗兰兹还没有想到该说什么话，他还没有确定该如何行动，从伯爵的态度丝毫看出他愿意承认他们已曾相识过，他不知究竟是提起过去的事情好呢，还是看看情形再定。而且，尽管他确实就是昨天晚上对面包厢里的那个人，但也不能肯定他就是斗兽场的那个人。所以他决定让事情顺其自然发展，而不向伯爵作任何正面的提议。再说，他现在比他占优势，他已经掌握了他的秘密，而他却没有提到弗兰兹什么东西，因为弗兰兹根本没有什么须要掩饰的事情。但是，他决心要把谈话引到一个或许可以弄清他的疑虑的题目上去。 
“伯爵阁下，”他说，“您让我们坐您的马车，还让我们分享您在罗斯波丽宫所定的窗口。您能不能告诉我们可以在那儿看一看波波罗广场！” 
“啊！”伯爵漠不关心地说道，他的目光紧紧地注视着马尔塞夫，“波波罗广场上不是说好象要处决犯人吗？” 
“是的。”弗兰兹答道，觉得伯爵已转到他所希望的话题上来了。 
“等一下，我记得昨天曾告诉我的管家，叫他去办这件事的，或许这一点我也可以为你们帮一下忙的。”他伸出手去，拉了三下铃。“您有没有想过，”他对弗兰兹说，“可以用什么方法来简化召唤仆人的手续呢？我倒是有：我拉一次铃，是叫我的跟班，两次，叫旅馆老板，三次，叫我的管家。这样我就可以不必浪费一分钟或一句话。他来啦！” 
进来的那个人年约四十五至五十岁，很象那个领弗兰兹进岩洞的走私贩子，但他似乎并不认识他。显然他是受了吩咐的。 
“日尔图乔先生，”伯爵说，“昨天我吩咐你去弄一个可以望得到波波罗广场的窗口，你给我办到了没有？” 
“是，大人，”管家答道，“但当时已经很晚了。” 
“我不是告诉你我想要一个吗？”伯爵面有怒色地说道。 
“已经给大人弄到了一个，那本来是租给洛巴尼夫亲王的，但我花了一百” 
“那就得了，那就得了，贝尔图乔先生，这种家务琐事别在这两位先生面前唠叨好吧。你已经弄到了窗口，那就够了。告诉车夫，叫他在门口等着，准备送我们去。”管家鞠了一躬，正要离开房间，伯爵又说道，“啊！劳驾你去问问派里尼，问他有没有收到‘祈祷单’，能否给我们拿一张行刑的报单来。” 
“不必了，”弗兰兹一边说，一边把他的那张报单拿了出去，“我已经看到了报单，而且已抄下来一份。” 
“好极了，你去吧，贝尔图乔先生，早餐准备好了的时候来通知我们一声。这两位先生，”他转向两个朋友说，“哦，我相信，大概可以赏光和我一起用早餐吧？” 
“但是，伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝说，“这就太打扰啦。” 
“哪里的话，正相反，你们肯赏光我非常高兴。你们之中，总有一位，或许两位都可以在巴黎回请我的。贝尔图乔先生，放三副刀叉。”他从弗兰兹的手里把传单接过来。 
“‘公告：’”他用读报纸一样的语气念道，“‘奉宗教审判厅令，二月二十二日星期三，即狂欢节之第一日，死囚二名将于波波罗广场被处以极刑，一名为安德烈·伦陀拉，一名为庇皮诺。即罗卡·庇奥立；前者犯谋害罪，谋杀了德高望众的圣·拉德兰教堂教士西塞·德列尼先生；后者则系恶名昭彰之大盗罗吉·万帕之党羽。’哼！‘第一名处以锤刑，第二名处以斩刑’。” 
“是啊，”伯爵继续说道，“本来是预定这样做的，但我想这个节目昨天已经有某种改变了吧。” 
“真的！”弗兰兹说道。 
“是的昨天晚上我在红衣主教罗斯辟格里奥赛那儿，听人提到说，那两人之中有一个好象已经被缓期执行处决了。” 
“是安德烈·伦陀拉吗？” 
“不，”伯爵随随便便地说道，“是另外那一个，”他向传单瞟了一眼，象是已记不得那个人的名字了似的，“是庇皮诺，即罗卡·庇奥立。所在你们看不到另一个人上断头台了，但锤刑还是有的，那种刑法你们初次看的时候会觉得非常奇特，甚至第二次看仍不免有这种感觉，至于斩刑，你们一定知道，是很简单的。那断头机是决不会失灵，决不会颤抖，也决不会象杀夏莱伯爵的那个兵那样连砍三十次的。红衣主教黎布留无疑是因为看到夏七伯爵被杀头时的那种惨景，动了恻隐之心，才改良刑法的。啊！”伯爵用一种轻视的口吻继续说道，“别向我谈起欧洲的刑法，以残酷而论，与其说还在婴儿时代，倒不如说，简直已到了暮年啦。” 
“真的，伯爵阁下，”弗兰兹答道，“人家会以为您是研究世界各国各种不同刑法的呢。” 
“至少可以说，我没见过的不多了。”伯爵冷冷地说道。 
“您很高兴看这种可怕的情景吗？” 
“我最初觉得恐怖，后来就麻木了，最后就觉得好奇。” 
“好奇！这两字太可怕了。” 
“为什么？在人的一生中，我们所最担心的就是死。那么，来研究灵魂和肉体分离的各种方法，并根据各人不同的个性，不同的气质，甚至各国不同的风俗，来测定从生到死，从存在到消灭这个转变过程上每一个人所能承受的限度，这难道算是好奇吗？至于我，我可以向你们保证一件事，你愈多看见人死，你死的时候就愈容易。依我看，死或许是一种刑罚，但不就等于赎罪。” 
“我不很明白您的意思，”弗兰兹答道，“请把您的意思解释一下，因为您已经把我的好奇心引到了最高点。” 
“听着，”伯爵说道，他的脸上流露出深深的仇恨，要是换了别人，这时一定会涨得满脸通红。“要是一个人以闻所未闻，最残酷，最痛苦的方法摧毁了你的父亲，你的母亲，你的爱人，总之，夺去你最心爱的人，在你的胸膛上留下一个永远无法愈合的伤口，而社会所给你的补偿，只是用断头机上的刀在那个凶手的脖子上割一下，让那个使你精神上痛苦了很多年的人只受几秒钟肉体上的罪，你觉得那种补偿够吗？” 
“是的，我知道，”弗兰兹说道，“人类的正义是无法使我们得到慰藉的，她只能以血还血，如此而已，但你也只能向她提出要求，而且只能在她力所能及的范围之内要求呀。” 
“我再举一个例子给你听，”伯爵继续说道，“社会上，每当一个人受到死亡的攻击时，社会就以死来报复死。但是，难道不是有人受到千百种惨刑，而社会对这些连知道都不知道。甚至连我们刚才所说的那种不是补偿的报复方式都不提供给他吗？有几种罪恶，即使用土耳其人的刺刑，波斯人的钻刑，印第安人的炮烙和火印也嫌惩罚得不够的，而社会却不闻不见，丝毫未加以处罚吗？请回答我，这些罪恶难道存在吗？” 
“是的，“弗兰兹答道，“而正是为了惩罚这种罪恶，社会上才容许人们决斗。” 
“啊，决斗！”伯爵大声说道，“凭良心说，当你的目的是报复时，用这种方法来达到人的目的未免太轻松啦！一个人抢去了你的爱人，一个人奸淫了你的妻子，一个人玷污了你的女儿，你本来有权利可以向上天要求幸福的，因为上帝创造了人，允许人人都能得到幸福，而他却破坏了你的一生，使你终生痛苦蒙羞。他使你的头脑疯狂，让你的心里绝望，而你，只因为你已经把一颗子弹射进了人的脑袋，或用一把剑刺穿了他的胸膛，就自以为已经报了仇了，却想不到，决斗之后，胜利者却往往是他，因为在全世界人的眼里，他已是清白的了，在上帝眼里，已是抵罪了！不，不，”伯爵继续说道，“要是我为自己复仇，就不会这样去报复。” 
“那么您是不赞成决斗的罗，您无论如何也不和人决斗吗？”这次轮到阿尔贝发问了，他对于这种奇怪的理论很是惊讶。 
“噢，要决斗的！”伯爵答道，“请了解我，我会为一件小事而决斗，譬如说，为了一次侮辱，为了一记耳光，而且很愿意决斗，因为，凭我在各种体格训练上所获得的技巧和我逐渐养成的漠视危险的习惯，我敢肯定一定可以杀死我的对手。噢，为了这些原因我会决斗的。但要报复一种迟缓的，深切的，永久的痛苦，假如可能的话，我却要以同样的痛苦来回报，以血还血，以牙还牙，如东方人所说的那样，东方人在各方面都是我们的大师。那些得天独厚的人在梦中过活，因此倒给他们自己造成了一个现实的乐园。” 
“但是，”弗兰兹对伯爵说道，“抱着这种理论，则等于你自己既是原告，同时又是法官和刽子手，这是很难实行的，因为你得时刻提防落到法律的手里。仇恨是盲目的，愤怒会使你失去理智，凡是倾泄复仇的苦酒的人，他自己也冒着危险，或许会尝到一种更苦的滋味。” 
“是的，假如他既没有钱又没有经验是会这样的，但假如他有钱又有技巧，则就不然了。而且，即使他受到惩罚，最坏也不过是我们已经说过的那一种罢了，而博爱的法国大革命又代替了五马分尸或车轮辗死。只要他已报了仇，这种刑罚又算得了什么呢？这个可怜的庇皮诺多半是不会被杀头的了，老实说，我倒有点觉得可惜，不然你们倒有一个机会可以看看这种刑罚所产生的痛苦是多么短促，究竟是否值得一提，哦，真的，在狂欢节该这样的事不免太奇怪了，二位，先生，我们是怎么谈起来的？啊，我记起来了！你们要在我的窗口弄一个位置。可以的，但我们还是先去入席吧，因为仆人已经来通知我们去用早餐啦。”在他说话的时候，一个仆人打开了客厅四座门中的一扇，说道，“酒筵齐备！”两个青年站了起来，走进了早餐厅。 
早餐极其丰盛，在用餐的时候，弗兰兹屡次察看阿尔贝，以观察他们东道主的那一篇话在阿尔贝身上所产生的影响，但不知是由于他那种一向万事不介意的习性使他没有注意到他呢，还是伯爵关于决斗的那一番解释使他很满意，还是因为弗兰兹知道了过去的几件事，所以对伯爵的理论特别感到惊惧，他发现他的同伴脸上毫无忧虑的表情，而是大吃特吃，象是四五个月以来除了意大利菜，即世界是最坏的菜以外，不曾吃过别的什么东西似的。至于伯爵，他对于各种菜只是碰一碰而已，他似乎只在尽一个东道主的义务，陪他的客人坐坐，等他们走后，再来吃某种稀珍而更美味的食物。这使弗兰兹不由自主地想到了伯爵在Ｇ伯爵夫人身上所引起的恐怖和她那坚决的态度，以为她对面包厢里的那个男人是个僵尸。早餐完毕时，弗兰兹掏出表来看了一眼。 
“哦，”伯爵说道，“你们还有什么事吗？” 
“请您务必原谅我们，伯爵阁下，”弗兰兹答道，“我们还有很多事要办呢。” 
“是些什么事呢？” 
“我们还没有化装的衣服，那是一定要去弄到的。” 
“那件事你们不必担心。我想我在波波罗广场大概能有一间私室。你们不论选中了什么服装，我都可以叫人送去，你们可以到那儿去换装。” 
“在行刑以后吗？”弗兰兹问道。 
“以前或以后，尽可悉听尊便。” 
“就在断头台对面？” 
“断头台是狂欢节必不可少的一部分。” 
“伯爵阁下，那件事刚才我又想了一想。”弗兰兹说道，“我很感谢您的热情招待，但我只要在您的马车里和您在罗斯波丽宫的窗口占一个位置就满足了，至于波波罗广场的那个位置，请您只管另作支配吧。” 
“但我得先提醒您，那样您将失去一次千载难逢的观看奇景的机会的。”伯爵答道。 
“您以后讲给我听好了。”弗兰兹回答说，“事情由您的嘴里讲出来，给人的印象比我亲眼目睹的会深刻。我好几次都想去亲眼看一看杀人，但我总是下不了这个决心，你是不是也这样，阿尔贝？” 
“我，”伯爵答道，“我看过杀卡斯泰，但我好象记得那天我已喝醉了酒，因为我是在那天早晨离开了学校，从酒店里闹了一个通宵出来的。” 
“一件事不能因为您在巴黎没做过，到国外来也就不做，这不算是理由。一个人出来旅行，是样样都得看一看的。将来有人问您：‘罗马杀人是怎么杀法呀？’而您回答说：‘我不知道。’那时您多难堪。据说，那个犯人是一个无耻的流氓，一个教士原是把他当作亲生儿子一般抚养长大的，而他竟用一块大木柴打死那位可敬的教士。真该死！杀教堂里的人，应该用另外一种武器，不应用木柴，尤其是假如他是一个慈爱和蔼的教士。哎，要是您到了西班牙，您能不去看斗牛吗？就算我们现在去看的是一场斗牛好了。请想想古代竞技场上的罗马人，他们在竞技场上杀死三百只狮子和一百个人呢。你想想那八万个热烈喝采的观众们吧，贤惠的主妇带着她们的女儿同来，那些妖娆动人的姑娘们，用她雪白的手翘起大拇指，象是在对狮子说：‘来吧，别呆着呀！来给我杀死那个人吧，他已经吓得半死啦。’” 
“那么，你去不去，阿尔贝？” 
“当然啦！是的。我也和你一样，本来有点犹豫，但伯爵的雄辩使我下了决心！” 
“既然你高兴，那么我们走吧，”弗兰兹说道，“但我们到波波罗广场去的时候，我想经过高碌街。这样做行不行，伯爵阁下？” 
“步行去，可以，坐车去，不行！” 
“那么，我愿意步行去！” 
“您有很重要的事一定要经过那条街吗？” 
“是的，我想在那儿看一样东西。” 
“好吧，我们从高碌街走吧。我们可以叫马车在波波罗场靠巴布诺街口的地方等着我们，因为我也很高兴能经过高碌街，我想去看看我所吩咐的一件事情办妥了没有。” 
“大人。“一个仆人开门进来说道，“有一个穿苦修士衣服的人想和您说话。” 
“啊，是的！”伯爵答道，“我知道他是谁。二位，请你们回到客厅里去坐一会儿好吗？你们可以在中央那张桌子上找到上等的哈瓦那雪茄。我马上就来奉陪。” 
两个青年站起身来，回到了客厅里，伯爵又向他们道了一声歉，就从另外一扇门出去了。阿尔贝是一个大烟鬼，他以为这次出国，再也抽不到巴黎咖啡馆里的雪茄了，这可是一个不小的损失，当他走近桌子，看到几支真正的蒲鲁斯雪茄时，就高兴得大喊了一声。 
“噢，”弗兰兹问道，“你觉得基督山伯爵这个人怎么样？” 
“我觉得怎么样？”阿尔贝说道，他显然很惊奇他的同伴会提出这样一个问题。“我觉得他是一个很有趣的人，他吃东西很讲究，他到过很多地方，读过很多书，而且，象布鲁特斯一样，也是一个坚忍主义者；再说，”他向天花板吐出一大股烟，然后才说，“他还有上等的雪茄。” 
阿尔贝对伯爵的看法仅此而已，弗兰兹却知道得很清楚，阿尔贝一向自认非经过长期的考虑是不发表任何意见的，所以他也就不想去改变它了。”但是，”他说，“你有没有注意到一件非常奇怪的事？” 
“什么事？” 
“他盯着你看。” 
“看我？” 
“是的。阿尔贝想了一想。“唉！”他叹了一气答道，“那算不上十分稀奇。我离开巴黎已有一年多了，我的衣服式样已经很旧了，伯爵大概把我看成一个乡下人。我求求你，你一有机会就向他解释一下，告诉他我不是那种人。” 
弗兰兹笑了一下，一会儿，伯爵进来了。“二位，我现在可以悉听吩咐了，”他说了，“马车已到波波罗广场去了，我们可以从另一条路走，假如你们高兴的话，就走高碌街。带几支雪茄去，马尔塞夫先生。” 
“非常的赞成，”阿尔贝答道，“意大利的雪茄太可怕了。您到巴黎来的时候，我可以回敬您这种雪茄。” 
“我不会拒绝的。我准备不久就要到那儿去，既然蒙您允许，我一定来拜访您。走吧，我们不能再浪费时间啦，已经十二点半了，我们出发吧！” 
三个人一同下了楼，车夫已得到主人的吩咐，驱车到巴布诺街去了，三位先生就经弗拉铁那街向爱斯巴广场走去，这样，他们就可以从菲亚诺宫和罗勘斯丽宫之间经过。弗兰兹的全部注意力都集中到罗斯波丽宫的窗口上去了，因为他没有忘记那个穿披风的人和那个勒司斐人所约定的暗号。 
“哪几个窗口是您的？”他问伯爵，语气极力装出无所谓的样子。 
“最后那三个。”伯爵漫不经心地回答着，但他的态度显然并非是装出来的，因为他决想不到这句问话的含意。弗兰兹很快地向那三个窗口瞟了一眼，旁边两个窗口挂着黄缎窗帘，中间那个是白缎的，上面有一个红十字。那个穿披风的人的确实践了他对勒司斐人的许诺，而现在毫无疑义，可以确定他是伯爵了。那三个窗口里还没有人。四面八方都在匆忙地准备着，椅子都已排好了，断头台已架起来了，窗口上都挂着旗子，钟声不响，面具还不能出现，马车也不能出动，但在各个窗口里，已可以看到面具在那里晃动，而马车都在大门后面等着了。 
弗兰兹，阿尔贝和伯爵继续顺着高碌街走着。当他们接近波波罗广场的时候，人群愈来愈密了，在万头攒动的上空，可以看到两样东西，即方身尖顶的石塔，塔顶上有一个十字架，标明这是广场的中心和耸立在石塔前面，耸立在巴布诺街，高索街，立庇得街三条路的交叉口上的断头台的那两根直柱，在这两根直柱之间，悬挂着一把闪闪发光的弯刀。他们在街角上遇到了伯爵的管家，管家原来在那儿等候他的主人。伯爵花了很高的价钱租得的那个窗口是在那座大宫殿的三楼上，位于巴布诺街和平西奥山之间。我们已经说过，这原是一间小小的更衣室，从更衣室进去还有一间寝室，只要通外面的那扇门一关，房间里的人便可以与外界隔绝。椅子上已放着高雅的小丑服装，是用蓝白色的绸缎做的。 
“你们既然让我为你们挑选服装，”伯爵对二位朋友说，“我就拿了这几套来，因为今年穿这种服装的最多，而且也最合用，逢到人家向你们撒纸花，也不会沾在身上。” 
伯爵的这一篇话弗兰兹没有全都听进去，他或许并不完全理解伯爵的一番好意，他的注意力已全部被波波罗广场上的情景所吸引住了。在目前，广场上主要的点缀品就是那可怕的杀人工具。弗兰兹生平还是第一次看到一架断头机，我们说断头机，因为罗马的这种杀人工具式样简直和法国的完全相同。那把刀是新月形的，刀口向外凸出，刀上的坠子份量较轻，全部差别只在于此。有两个人坐在那块搁犯人的活动木板上，正在那儿一边用早餐，一边等候犯人。其中的一个掀起那块木板，从木板下面拿出了一瓶酒，喝了几口，然后递给他的同伴。 
这两个人是刽子手的助手，一看到这种情形，弗兰兹觉得他的额头上已在开始冒冷汗了。 
犯人已在前一天傍晚从诺伏监狱移禁到了波波罗广场口的圣·玛丽亚小教堂里，就在那儿过夜，每一名犯人有两位教士作伴。他们给关在一间有铁栅门的礼拜堂里，门前有两个轮流换班的哨兵。教堂门口，每边都有一列双排的宪兵，从门口直排到断头台前，并在断头机周围成了一个圆圈，留出一条约莫十尺宽的通道，在断头机周围，则留下一片将近一百尺的空地。其余一切地方都被男男女女的头填满了。许多女人把她们的小孩子扛在她们的肩头上，所以孩子们看得最清楚。平西奥山象是一家挤满了看客的露天大戏院。巴布诺街和立庇得街拐角上的两座教堂的阳台上也挤得满满的。台阶上象是一股杂色斑驳的海流，向门廊下拼命的挤，墙上每一年凹进去的地方都拱着活的雕像。伯爵说得不错，人生最动人的奇观就是死。 
可是，虽然这一幕庄严的情景似乎应该令人肃静无哗，但人群里反而浮起一片很大的闹声，那是一片笑和欢呼所组成的闹声，显然在人们的眼里，这次杀人只是狂欢节的开幕典礼。突然间，象是中了魔似的，骚动停止了，教堂的门开了。最先出现的，是一小队苦修士，其中有一个领头走在前边；他们从头到脚都裹在一件灰色粗布的长袍里，只在眼睛的地方有两个洞，他们的手里都拿着点燃了的小蜡烛，在苦修士的后面，走着一个身材高大的人。他浑身赤裸，只穿着一条布短裤，左腰上佩着一把插在鞘里的牛耳尖刀，右肩上扛着一把笨重的长锤。这个人就是刽子手。他的脚上还绑着一双草鞋。在刽子手的后面，根据处死的先后顺序，先出来的是庇皮诺，然后才是安德烈，每一个都由两位教士陪伴着。他们两个人的眼睛都没有被蒙着。庇皮诺走的步子很坚定，无疑他已明白会发生什么事，而安德则由两位教士扶着走。他们都时不时地去吻一个忏悔师送上来的十字架。单单看到这一幕情景，弗兰兹就觉得他的那两条腿已在发抖了。他望了望阿尔贝；阿尔贝的脸色白得象他的衬衫一样了，他机械地丢掉了他的雪茄，虽然那支雪茄还没抽到一半。只有伯爵似乎无动于衷，不，他激动得很，一层浅红色似乎正在拼命地从他那苍白的面颊上透出来。 
他的鼻孔张得大大的，象是一只野兽嗅到了它的牺牲品似的。 
他的嘴巴半张着，露出了他那雪白的，又细又尖，象狼一样的牙齿。可是，他的脸却露出了一种温柔的微笑。这种表情弗兰兹以前是从未在他的脸上看到过的，他那一对黑眼睛充满慈悲和怜悯。两个犯人继续向前走着，当他们走近的时候，他们的脸可以看得一清二楚了。庇皮诺是一个英俊的年青人，约二十四五岁，皮肤被太阳晒成了棕褐色。他昂着头，似乎在嗅空气，以确定他的解救者会从哪边出现。安德烈是一个矮胖子，他的脸上布满着残忍刻毒的皱纹，但那些皱纹和他的年轻并无关系，他大概在三十岁左右，他的胡子在狱中长得长长的，他的头垂在肩上，他的两腿发软，他似乎在做着一种不自觉的机械的动作。 
“我记得，”弗兰兹对伯爵说道，“您告诉我说只杀一个人的吧。” 
“我对您讲的是实话。”伯爵冷冷地答道。 
“但是，这儿有两个犯人呀。“是的，但这两之中，要死的却只有一个，另外那一个还有很多年活呢。” 
“假如赦罪令要来，可不能再迟了呀。“看那不是来了！”伯爵说道。 
正当庇皮诺到达断头台脚下的时候，一个苦修士，他象是苦修士队中迟到的一个，拼命挤开士兵，走到领头的那个苦修士前面，交给他一张折拢的纸，庇皮诺的锐利的目光已把这一切都看到了，领头的那个苦修士接过这张纸，打开来，于是他举起了一只手，“赞美上帝！”他大声说道，“有令赦犯人一名！” 
“赦罪令！”人们同声喊道，“赦罪令！” 
听到这种喊声，安德烈把头抬了起来。“赦谁！”他喊道。庇皮诺仍旧屏息静气地等着。 
“赦庇皮诺，即罗卡·庇奥立。”那个领头的苦修士说道，于是他把那张纸交给了宪兵的长官，那军官读完以后交还给了他。 
“赦庇皮诺！”安德烈喊道，他似乎已从先前的麻痹状态中醒了过来了。“为什么赦他不赦我？我们应该一同死的。你们讲定了他和我一起死的呀。你们没有权利单单要我一个人死。我不愿意一个人死！我不愿意！”于是他挣脱开了那两个教士，象一头野兽似地挣扎着咆哮着，拼命想扭断那条绑住他双手的绳子。刽子手做了一个手势，于是他的助手从断头台上跳下来捉住了他。 
“他怎么了？”弗兰兹问伯爵，因为那些话都是罗马语说，所以他听不太懂。 
“您没看见吗？”伯爵答道。“这个人快要死了，他之所以发狂，是因为他的难友没有和他同归于尽，要是可能的话，他会用他的牙齿和指甲把他撕得粉碎，也决不肯让他去享有他自己快要被剥夺的生命的。噢，人呀，人呀！鳄鱼的子孙呀！”伯爵把他紧握成拳头的双手伸向人群，大声说道，“我早就认识你们了。你们在任何时候都是自作自受呀！” 
在这说话期间，安德烈一直在地上和那两个刽子手滚作了一团，他还是在那儿大喊：“他应该死的！我要他死！我不愿意一个人死！” 
“看，看哪！”伯爵抓住那两个年青人的手大声说道，“看吧，凭良心说，真奇怪，这个人本来已向他的命运低头了，他就要上断头台了，象个丑夫一样，这是真的，他是准备服服帖帖地去死的。你们知道他为什么会那样，是什么安慰了他吗？那是因为另外还有一个人要和他一同处死；一同分享他的痛苦；而且比他先死！牵两只羊到屠夫那儿，牵两条牛进屠宰场，使两只里的一只懂得它的同伴可以不死，羊会欢喜地咩叫，牛会高兴得乱吼。但人，上帝照他自己的形状创造出来的人，上帝给他的每条最重要的诫条就是叫他爱他的邻居，上帝给他声音以表达他的思想，所以当他听到他的同类人得救的时候，他的第一声喊叫是什么！是一声谩骂！够光荣的了吧，人呀，你这自然的杰作，你这万物之灵！”于是伯爵爆发出一声大笑，但那种笑是令人可怕的，显示出他的内心一定受过非常痛苦的煎熬。 
这时，搏斗依旧在继续着，看了真可怕。人们都反对安德烈，两万个声音都在喊，“杀死他！杀死他！”弗兰兹吓得直向后跳，但伯爵抓住他的手臂，拉他站在窗前。“您怎么啦？”他说，“难道您可怜他吗？假如您听到有人喊‘疯狗！’您就会抓起枪来，毫不犹豫地打死那可怜的畜生，但它的罪过，却只是咬了另一条狗而已。而这个人，人家没去咬他，他反而谋杀了他的恩人，现在他的手被绑住了，不能再杀人了，可是他还希望囚伴和他同归于尽，这样的一个人，您还可怜他！不，不，看，看哪！” 
这种介绍实在是不必要的。弗兰兹早已全神贯注地在望这一场可怕的情景了。那两个助手已把安德烈拖到了断头台上，不管怎么挣扎，怎么咬，怎么喊，已经按着他跪了下来。这时，刽子手已在他的旁边站稳了步子，举起那把长锤，示意叫两助手走开。那犯人想挣扎着起来，但还不等他站起来，那把锤已打到了他的左面太阳穴上，随着一下重浊的声音，那个人象一条牛似的面朝下倒了下去，接着又一个翻身仰面躺在了台上，刽子手摔开锤，抽出刀，一刀割开了他的喉咙，又跳到他的肚皮上，猛力用脚踏，每一踏，伤口里便喷出来一股鲜血。 
弗兰兹再也受不了了，昏昏沉沉地倒在了一张椅子里。阿尔贝则闭着眼睛，紧紧地抓住窗帘站着。只有伯爵笔挺地站着，面露胜利的神色，象是复仇的天使。
Chapter 36 The Carnival at Rome
 WHEN FRANZ recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking a glass of water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stood in great need; and the count, who was assuming his masquerade costume. He glanced mechanically towards the square--the scene was wholly changed; scaffold, executioners, victims, all had disappeared; only the people remained, full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte Citorio, which only sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival, was ringing a joyous peal. "Well," asked he of the count, "what has, then, happened?" 
"Nothing," replied the count; "only, as you see, the Carnival his commenced. Make haste and dress yourself." 
"In fact," said Franz, "this horrible scene has passed away like a dream." 
"It is but a dream, a nightmare, that has disturbed you." 
"Yes, that I have suffered; but the culprit?" 
"That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?" 
"But Peppino--what has become of him?" 
"Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who are happy in proportion as they are noticed, was delighted to see that the general attention was directed towards his companion. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd, without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal. But dress yourself; see, M. de Morcerf sets you the example." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. "Well, Albert," said Franz, "do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come, answer frankly." 
"Ma foi! no," returned Albert. "But I am really glad to have seen such a sight; and I understand what the count said--that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar spectacle, it is the only one that causes you any emotion." 
"Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character," said the count; "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed. It must be allowed that Andrea was not very handsome, the hideous scoundrel! Come, dress yourselves, gentlemen, dress yourselves." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow his two companions' example. He assumed his costume, and fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of his own face. Their toilet finished, they descended; the carriage awaited them at the door, filled with sweetmeats and bouquets. They fell into the line of carriages. It is difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had taken place. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent death, the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay and noisy mirth and revelry. A crowd of masks flowed in from all sides, emerging from the doors, descending from the windows. From every street and every corner drove carriages filled with clowns, harlequins, dominoes, mummers, pantomimists, Transteverins, knights, and peasants, screaming, fighting, gesticulating, throwing eggs filled with flour, confetti, nosegays, attacking, with their sarcasms and their missiles, friends and foes, companions and strangers, indiscriminately, and no one took offence, or did anything but laugh. Franz and Albert were like men who, to drive away a violent sorrow, have recourse to wine, and who, as they drink and become intoxicated, feel a thick veil drawn between the past and the present. They saw, or rather continued to see, the image of what they had witnessed; but little by little the general vertigo seized them, and they felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and confusion. A handful of confetti that came from a neighboring carriage, and which, while it covered Morcerf and his two companions with dust, pricked his neck and that portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred pins, incited him to join in the general combat, in which all the masks around him were engaged. He rose in his turn, and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats, with which the carriage was filled, cast them with all the force and skill he was master of. 
The strife had fairly begun, and the recollection of what they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from the young men's minds, so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now beheld. As for the Count of Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant shown any appearance of having been moved. Imagine the large and splendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces, with their balconies hung with carpets, and their windows with flags. At these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators--Romans, Italians, strangers from all parts of the world, the united aristocracy of birth, wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to the influence of the scene, bend over their balconies, or lean from their windows, and shower down confetti, which are returned by bouquets; the air seems darkened with the falling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets the lively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes--gigantic cabbages walk gravely about, buffaloes' heads below from men's shoulders, dogs walk on their hind legs; in the midst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as in Callot's Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, which we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by troops of fiends. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. At the second turn the Count stopped the carriage, and requested permission to withdraw, leaving the vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up--they were opposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the one hung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina. "Gentlemen," said the count, springing out, "when you are tired of being actors, and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know you have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my coachman, my carriage, and my servants." We have forgotten to mention, that the count's coachman was attired in a bear-skin, exactly resembling Odry's in The Bear and the Pasha; and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces at every one who passed. Franz thanked the count for his attention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. Unfortunately for him, the line of carriages moved on again, and while he descended the Piazza del Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo di Venezia. 
"Ah, my dear fellow," said he to Franz; "you did not see?" 
"What?" 
"There,--that calash filled with Roman peasants." 
"No." 
"Well, I am convinced they are all charming women." 
"How unfortunate that you were masked, Albert," said Franz; "here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments." 
"Oh," replied he, half laughing, half serious; "I hope the Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other." 
But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked by any incident, excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman peasants. At one of these encounters, accidentally or purposely, Albert's mask fell off. He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his gallantry; for, as the carriage of the two friends passed her, she threw a bunch of violets. Albert seized it, and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him, he suffered Albert to retain it. Albert placed it in his button-hole, and the carriage went triumphantly on. 
"Well," said Franz to him; "there is the beginning of an adventure." 
"Laugh if you please--I really think so. So I will not abandon this bouquet." 
"Pardieu!" returned Franz, laughing, "in token of your ingratitude." The jest, however, soon appeared to become earnest; for when Albert and Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini, the one who had thrown the violets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them in his button-hole. "Bravo, bravo," said Franz; "things go wonderfully. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?" 
"No," replied he; "I will not be caught like a fool at a first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as they say at the opera-balls. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further, we shall find her, or rather, she will find us to-morrow; then she will give me some sign or other, and I shall know what I have to do." 
"On my word," said Franz, "you are wise as Nestor and prudent as Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind." Albert was right; the fair unknown had resolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no farther; for although the young men made several more turns, they did not again see the calash, which had turned up one of the neighboring streets. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace; but the count and the blue domino had also disappeared; the two windows, hung with yellow damask, were still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. At this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning of the mascherata sounded the retreat. The file on the Corso broke the line, and in a second all the carriages had disappeared. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle Maratte; the coachman, without saying a word, drove up it, passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and stopped at the door of the hotel. Signor Pastrini came to the door to receive his guests. Franz hastened to inquire after the count, and to express regret that he had not returned in sufficient time; but Pastrini reassured him by saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second carriage for himself, and that it had gone at four o'clock to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. The count had, moreover, charged him to offer the two friends the key of his box at the Argentina. Franz questioned Albert as to his intentions; but Albert had great projects to put into execution before going to the theatre; and instead of making any answer, he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him a tailor. "A tailor," said the host; "and for what?" 
"To make us between now and to-morrow two Roman peasant costumes," returned Albert. The host shook his head. "To make you two costumes between now and to-morrow? I ask your excellencies' pardon, but this is quite a French demand; for the next week you will not find a single tailor who would consent to sew six buttons on a waistcoat if you paid him a crown a piece for each button." 
"Then I must give up the idea?" 
"No; we have them ready-made. Leave all to me; and to-morrow, when you awake, you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied." 
"My dear Albert," said Franz, "leave all to our host; he has already proved himself full of resources; let us dine quietly, and afterwards go and see The Algerian Captive." 
"Agreed," returned Albert; "but remember, Signor Pastrini, that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to-morrow the costumes we have asked for." The host again assured them they might rely on him, and that their wishes should be attended to; upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as he took off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch of violets; it was his token reserved for the morrow. The two friends sat down to table; but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo's table and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count, to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. During dessert, the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at each other, fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. The servant understood them. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had," he said, "given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day, and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion." 
They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy, and ordered the horses to be harnessed, while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. This precaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installed themselves in the count's box. During the first act, the Countess G----entered. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening, so that she perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to Franz. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them, that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity; and, availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxes to hold receptions, the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, in his turn, sat behind. 
"Well," said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are already the best friends in the world." 
"Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess," returned Franz, "I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day." 
"All day?" 
"Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in his carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his box." 
"You know him, then?" 
"Yes, and no." 
"How so?" 
"It is a long story." 
'Tell it to me." 
"It would frighten you too much." 
"So much the more reason." 
"At least wait until the story has a conclusion." 
"Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?" 
"No; it was he who introduced himself to us." 
"When?" 
"Last night, after we left you." 
"Through what medium?" 
"The very prosaic one of our landlord." 
"He is staying, then, at the H?tel de Londres with you?" 
"Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor." 
"What is his name--for, of course, you know?" 
"The Count of Monte Cristo." 
"That is not a family name?" 
"No, it is the name of the island he has purchased." 
"And he is a count?" 
"A Tuscan count." 
"Well, we must put up with that," said the countess, who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. "What sort of a man is he?" 
"Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf." 
"You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you," said the countess. 
"We should be very hard to please, madam," returned Albert, "did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us, or with a more perfect courtesy." 
"Come," observed the countess, smiling, "I see my vampire is only some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild; and you have seen her?" 
"Her?" 
"The beautiful Greek of yesterday." 
"No; we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but she remained perfectly invisible." 
"When you say invisible," interrupted Albert, "it is only to keep up the mystery; for whom do you take the blue domino at the window with the white curtains?" 
"Where was this window with white hangings?" asked the countess. 
"At the Rospoli Palace." 
"The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?" 
"Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count's windows?" 
"Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three windows were worth?" 
"Two or three hundred Roman crowns?" 
"Two or three thousand." 
"The deuce." 
"Does his island produce him such a revenue?" 
"It does not bring him a baiocco." 
"Then why did he purchase it?" 
"For a whim." 
"He is an original, then?" 
"In reality," observed Albert, "he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony." At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. This circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the conversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow; and he assured them that they would be perfectly satisfied. The next morning, at nine o'clock, he entered Franz's room, followed by a tailor, who had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm; they selected two exactly alike, and charged the tailor to sew on each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon, and to procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors with which the lower orders decorate themselves on fête-days. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in his new dress--a jacket and breeches of blue velvet, silk stockings with clocks, shoes with buckles, and a silk waistcoat. This picturesque attire set him off to great advantage; and when he had bound the scarf around his waist, and when his hat, placed coquettishly on one side, let fall on his shoulder a stream of ribbons, Franz was forced to confess that costume has much to do with the physical superiority we accord to certain nations. The Turks used to be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes, but are they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to the chin, and their red caps, which make them look like a bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert, who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile of satisfaction. They were thus engaged when the Count of Monte Cristo entered. 
"Gentlemen," said he, "although a companion is agreeable, perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I come to say that to-day, and for the remainder of the Carnival, I leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. The host will tell you I have three or four more, so that you will not inconvenience me in any way. Make use of it, I pray you, for your pleasure or your business." 
The young men wished to decline, but they could find no good reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with them, conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. He was, as we have already said, perfectly well acquainted with the literature of all countries. A glance at the walls of his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a connoisseur of pictures. A few words he let fall showed them that he was no stranger to the sciences, and he seemed much occupied with chemistry. The two friends did not venture to return the count the breakfast he had given them; it would have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini. They told him so frankly, and he received their excuses with the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. Albert was charmed with the count's manners, and he was only prevented from recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason of his varied knowledge. The permission to do what he liked with the carriage pleased him above all, for the fair peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the preceding evening, and Albert was not sorry to be upon an equal footing with them. At half-past one they descended, the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their disguises, which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than ever, and which gained them the applause of Franz and Albert. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to his button-hole. At the first sound of the bell they hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. 
At the second turn, a bunch of fresh violets, thrown from a carriage filled with harlequins, indicated to Albert that, like himself and his friend, the peasants had changed their costume, also; and whether it was the result of chance, or whether a similar feeling had possessed them both, while he had changed his costume they had assumed his. 
Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button-hole, but he kept the faded one in his hand; and when he again met the calash, he raised it to his lips, an action which seemed greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it, but her joyous companions also. The day was as gay as the preceding one, perhaps even more animated and noisy; the count appeared for an instant at his window. but when they again passed he had disappeared. It is almost needless to say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant continued all day. In the evening, on his return, Franz found a letter from the embassy, informing him that he would have the honor of being received by his holiness the next day. At each previous visit he had made to Rome, he had solicited and obtained the same favor; and incited as much by a religious feeling as by gratitude, he was unwilling to quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his respectful homage at the feet of one of St. Peter's successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. He did not then think of the Carnival, for in spite of his condescension and touching kindness, one cannot incline one's self without awe before the venerable and noble old man called Gregory XVI. On his return from the Vatican, Franz carefully avoided the Corso; he brought away with him a treasure of pious thoughts, to which the mad gayety of the maskers would have been profanation. 
At ten minutes past five Albert entered overjoyed. The harlequin had reassumed her peasant's costume, and as she passed she raised her mask. She was charming. 
Franz congratulated Albert, who received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious that they are merited. He had recognized by certain unmistakable signs, that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day. Franz remarked, while he gave these details, that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him, but that he was unwilling to ask it. He insisted upon it, declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required, and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in the middle of an adventure that promised to prove so agreeable to his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened; and as, during three years that he had travelled all over Italy, a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share, Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace. 
The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass, holding an enormous bouquet, which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous epistle. This belief was changed into certainty when Franz saw the bouquet (conspicuous by a circle of white camellias) in the hand of a charming harlequin dressed in rose-colored satin. The evening was no longer joy, but delirium. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him, and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal. Albert was not deceived, for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. "Well," said he, "was I mistaken?" 
"She has answered you!" cried Franz. 
"Read." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. Franz took the letter, and read: 
Tuesday evening, at seven o'clock, descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may be recognized. Until then you will not see me. 
CONSTANCY AND DISCRETION. 
"Well," asked he, when Franz had finished, "what do you think of that?" 
"I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance." 
"I think so, also," replied Albert; "and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker. 
"Take care, Albert," said Franz. "All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society, she must go there." 
"Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the same," returned Albert. "You have read the letter?" 
"Yes." 
"You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito [1] are educated in Italy?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and find if you can, any blemish in the language or orthography." (The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthography irreproachable.) "You are born to good fortune," said Franz, as he returned the letter. 
"Laugh as much as you will," replied Albert, "I am in love." 
"You alarm me," cried Franz. "I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's, but also return to Florence alone." 
"If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful," said Albert, "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least. I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste for archaeology." 
"Come, two or three more such adventures, and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy." 
Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. He hastened with Franz to seat himself, free to recommence the discussion after dinner. After dinner, the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. They had not seen him for two days. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. He had started the previous evening, and had only returned an hour since. He was charming. Whether he kept a watch over himself, or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched, he was to-night like everybody else. The man was an enigma to Franz. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him; and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them. On his side, however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview, the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre, and were told they were all let. In consequence, he brought them the key of his own--at least such was the apparent motive of his visit. Franz and Albert made some difficulty, alleging their fear of depriving him of it; but the count replied that, as he was going to the Palli Theatre, the box at the Argentina Theatre would he lost if they did not profit by it. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it. 
Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor, which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features, the only defect, or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronic hero! Franz could not, we will not say see him, but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders, or beneath Lara's helmet. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts; he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip that gives to the words it utters a peculiar character that impresses them on the minds of those to whom they are addressed. The count was no longer young. He was at least forty; and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. And, to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet, the count seemed to have the power of fascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. Franz was less enthusiastic; but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris; and he had no doubt but that, with his eccentric character, his characteristic face, and his colossal fortune, he would produce a great effect there. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. 
The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres; that is, not in listening to the music, but in paying visits and conversing. The Countess G----wished to revive the subject of the count, but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her, and, in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty, he informed the countess of the great event which had preoccupied them for the last three days. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy, if we may credit travellers, the countess did not manifest the least incredulity, but congratulated Albert on his success. They promised, upon separating, to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball, to which all Rome was invited. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word; she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after. 
At length Tuesday came, the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. On Tuesday, the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning, as Lent begins after eight at night. On Tuesday, all those who through want of money, time, or enthusiasm, have not been to see the Carnival before, mingle in the gayety, and contribute to the noise and excitement. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fête, exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians, who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident, a single dispute, or a single fight. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. The author of this history, who has resided five or six years in Italy, does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. In order that there might be no confusion, Franz wore his peasant's costume. 
As the day advanced, the tumult became greater. There was not on the pavement, in the carriages, at the windows, a single tongue that was silent, a single arm that did not move. It was a human storm, made up of a thunder of cries, and a hail of sweetmeats, flowers, eggs, oranges, and nosegays. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks, let off on the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia (heard with difficulty amid the din and confusion) announced that the races were about to begin. The races, like the moccoli, are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks, and retired by the adjacent streets. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity, without the police interfering in the matter. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls; then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. A detachment of carbineers, fifteen abreast, galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia, a second volley of fireworks was discharged, to announce that the street was clear. Almost instantly, in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry, seven or eight horses, excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators, passed by like lightning. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. Immediately, without any other signal, the carriages moved on, flowing on towards the Corso, down all the streets, like torrents pent up for a while, which again flow into the parent river; and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. 
A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. The moccoli, or moccoletti, are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight, and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with,--first, how to keep his own moccoletto alight; and secondly, how to extinguish the moccoletti of others. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it, and that one comes from God. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away, and the devil has somewhat aided him. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto?--the gigantic bellows, the monstrous extinguishers, the superhuman fans. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti--Franz and Albert among the rest. 
The night was rapidly approaching; and already, at the cry of "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors, two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. It was a signal. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered, descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo, and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. It seemed like the fête of jack-o'-lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth; the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. The facchino follows the prince, the Transteverin the citizen, every one blowing, extinguishing, relighting. Had old ?olus appeared at this moment, he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli, and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours; the Corso was light as day; the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch; at length it pointed to seven. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. Albert sprang out, bearing his moccoletto in his hand. Two or three masks strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand; but Albert, a first-rate pugilist, sent them rolling in the street, one after the other, and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. The steps were crowded with masks, who strove to snatch each other's torches. Franz followed Albert with his eyes, and saw him mount the first step. Instantly a mask, wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman, snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. Franz was too far off to hear what they said; but, without doubt, nothing hostile passed, for he saw Albert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. He watched them pass through the crowd for some time, but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded, and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. Franz found himself in utter darkness. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home; nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. The Carnival was over.  
当弗兰兹神志清醒过来的时候，他看见阿尔贝正拿着一只杯子在喝水，从阿尔贝那苍白的脸色看来，这杯水实在是他极其需要的，同时，他看见伯爵正在换上那套小丑的服装。他机械地向广场上望去。一切都不见了——断头台，刽子手，尸体，一切都不见了，剩下的只是人群，到处都是嘈杂而兴奋的人群。雪多里奥山上那口只在教皇逝世和狂欢节开始时才敲响的钟，正在嗡嗡地发出一片令人欢欣鼓舞的响声。“喂，”他问伯爵，“刚才还发生了什么事？” 
“没什么，”伯爵回答，”只是，如您所见，狂欢节已经开始了。赶快换衣服吧。” 
“的确，”弗兰兹说，“这一幕可怕的情景已象一场梦似的过去了。” 
“是的，对我是如此，但对那犯人呢？” 
“那也是一场梦。只是他仍睡着，而您却已醒来了，谁知道你们之中哪一个更幸福呢？” 
“庇皮诺是个很乖巧的小伙子，他不象一般人那样，一般人得不到别人的注意就要大发脾气，而他却很高兴看到大众的注意力都集中在他的同伴身上。他就利用大家不注意他的时候混入人群里溜走了，甚至对那两个陪他来的可敬的教士谢都没谢一声。唉，人真是一种忘恩负义，自私自利的动物。您快换衣服吧。瞧，马尔塞夫先生已经给您作出了榜样。” 
阿尔贝的确已把那条绸裤套在了他的黑裤和那擦得雪亮的长统皮靴上。“喂，阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说，“你真的很想去参加狂欢节吗？来吧，坦白地告诉我。” 
“老实说，不！”阿尔贝答道。“但我真的很高兴能见识一下这里刚才的场面，我现在懂得伯爵阁下所说的话的含义了，当你一旦看惯了这种情景以后，你对于其他的一切就不容易动情了。” 
“而且这是您可以研究个性的唯一时机，”伯爵说道。“在断头台的踏级上，死撕掉了人一生所戴的假面具，露出了真面目。老实说，安德烈的表现实在丑恶，这可恶的流氓！来，穿衣服吧，二位，穿衣服吧！” 
弗兰兹觉得要是不学他两位同伴的样子，未免太荒唐了。 
于是他穿上了衣服，绑上面具。那面具当然并不比他自己的脸更苍白。他们化装完毕以后，就走下楼去。马车已在门口等着他们了，车子里堆满了五颜六色的碎纸和花球。他们混入了马车的行列里。这个突变真是难以想象。在波波罗广场上，代替死的阴郁和沉寂的是一片兴高采烈和嘈杂的狂欢景象。四面八方，一群群戴着面具的人涌了过来，有从门里跑出来的，有离开窗口奔下来的。从每一条街道，每一个角落，都有马车拥过来。马车上坐满了白衣白裤白面具的小丑，身穿花衣手持木刀的滑稽角色，戴半边面具的男男女女，侯爵夫人，勒司斐人，骑士和农民。大家尖声喊叫着，打打闹闹，装腔作势，满天飞舞着装满了面粉的蛋壳，五颜六色的纸，花球，用他们的冷言冷语和种种可投掷的物品到处攻击人，也不分是敌是友，是同伴是陌生人，谁都不动气，大家都只是笑。 
弗兰兹和阿尔贝象借酒消愁的人一样，在喝醉了之后，觉得有一重厚厚的纱幕隔开了过去和现在。可是他们却老是看到，或说得更确切些，他们仍然在心里想着刚才他们所目睹的那一幕。但渐渐地，那到处弥漫着的兴奋情绪也传染到了他们身上，他们觉得自己也不得不加入到那种嘈杂和混乱之中。附近的一辆马车里抛来了一把彩纸，把车上的三位同伴撒得满身都是，马尔塞夫的脖子上和面具未遮住的那部分脸上象是受了一百个小针刺戳似地给弄得怪痒痒的，于是他被卷进了周围正在进行的一场混战里。他站起身来，抓起几把装在马车里的彩纸使劲儿向他左边近处的人投去，以此表示他也是精于此道的老手。战斗顺利地展开了。半小时前所见的那一幕景象渐渐地在两个青年的脑子里消失了，他们现在所全神贯注的只有这兴高采烈，五彩缤纷的游行队伍。而基督山伯爵，却始终无动于衷。 
试想那一条宽阔华丽的高碌街，从头到尾都耸立着巍巍的大厦，阳台上悬挂着花毯，窗口上飘扬着旗子，在这些阳台上和窗口里，有三十万看客——罗马人，意大利人，还有从世界各地来的外国人，都是出身高贵，又有钱，又聪明的三位一体的贵族，可爱的女人们也被这种场面感动得忘了彤，或倚着阳台，或靠着窗口，向经过的马车抛撒彩纸，马车里的人则以花球作回报。整个天空似乎都被落下来的彩纸和抛上去的花朵给遮住了。街上挤满了生气勃勃的人群，大家都穿着奇形怪状的服装——硕大无比的大头鬼大摇大摆地走着，牛头从人的肩膀后面伸过来嘶吼，狗被挤得直立起来用两条后腿趟路。 
在这种种纷乱嘈杂之中，一只假面具向上揭了一下，象卡洛的《圣安东尼之诱惑》里所描绘的那样，露出了一个可爱的面孔，你本来很想钉梢上去的，但忽然一队魔鬼过来把你和她冲散了，上述的一切可以使你对于罗马的狂欢节有一个大概的了解。 
转到第二圈时，伯爵停住了马车，向他的同伴告辞，留下马车给他们用。弗兰兹抬头一看，原来他们已到了罗斯波丽宫前面。在中间那个挂白缎窗帘上绣红十字的窗口里，坐着一个戴蓝色半边面具的人，这个人，弗兰兹很容易认出就是戏院里的那个希腊美人。 
“二位，”伯爵跳到车子外面说道，“当你们在这场戏里厌倦了做演员而想做看客的时候，你们知道我的窗口里为你们留着位置的。现在，请只管用我的车夫，我的马车和我的仆人吧。” 
我们该补充一下，伯爵的车夫是穿着一套熊皮的衣服，和《熊与巴乞》一剧里奥德莱所穿的那种服装一模一样，站在马车后面的两个跟班则打扮成两只绿毛猴子，脸上戴着活动面具，对每个经过的人做着鬼脸。 
弗兰兹谢谢伯爵的关照。阿尔贝此时正忙着向一辆停在他附近，满载着罗马农民的马车上抛花球。不幸得很，马车的行列又走动了，他往波波罗广场去，而那一辆却向威尼斯宫去。“啊！我亲爱的！”他对弗兰兹说道，“你看见没有？” 
“什么？” 
“那儿，那辆满载着罗马农民的低轮马车。” 
“没有。” 
“嘿，我相信她们都是些漂亮的女人。” 
“你多不幸呀，阿尔贝，偏偏戴着面具！”弗兰兹说道，“这本来倒是可以弥补你过去的失意的一个机会。” 
“噢，”他半开玩笑半认真地回答，“我希望在狂欢节结束以前，能给我带来一点补偿。” 
但不管阿尔贝的希望如何，当天并没发生任何意外的奇遇，只是那辆满载罗马农民的低轮马车，后来又遇到过两三次。有一次邂逅相逢的时候，不知阿尔贝是故意的还是无意的，他的面具掉了下来。他立刻站起来，把马车里剩下的花球都抛了过去。漂亮女人——这是阿尔贝从她们风骚的化装上推测出来的——中的一个无疑地被他的殷勤献媚所打动了。 
因为，当那两个朋友的马车经过她的时候，她居然也抛了一束紫罗兰过来。阿尔贝急忙抓住了，而弗兰兹因为没有理由可以假定这是送给他自己的，所以也只能让阿尔贝占有了它。阿尔贝把花插在他的纽扣眼里，于是马车胜利地继续前进了。 
“喂，”弗兰兹向他说道，“这是一次奇遇的开始呀。” 
“随你去笑吧，我倒真是这样想。所以我决不肯放弃这束花球。” 
“当然啦！”弗兰兹大笑着答道，“我相信你，这是定情之物呢。” 
但是，这种玩笑不久似乎变成真的了，因为当阿尔贝和弗兰兹再遇到农妇们的那辆马车的时候，那个抛紫罗兰给阿尔贝的女人看到他已把花插在了纽扣眼里，就拍起手来。“妙！妙！”弗兰兹说，“事情来得真妙。要不要我离开你一下？也许你愿意一个人进行吧？” 
“不，”他答道，“我可不愿意象傻瓜似的才送一个秋波就束手被擒。假如这位漂亮的农妇愿意有所发展，明天我们还可以找到她的，或说得更确切些，她会来找我们的，那时，她会对我有所表示，而我也就知道该怎么做了。” 
“凭良心说，”弗兰兹说，“你真可谓聪明如涅斯托而慎重如尤利西斯了。你那位漂亮的塞茜要是想把你变成一只不论哪一种的走兽，她一定得非常机巧或非常神通广大才行。” 
阿尔贝说得不错，那位无名情人无疑的已决定当天不再出什么新花样，那两个年轻人虽然又兜了几个圈子，他们却再也看不到那辆低轮马车了，大概它已转到附近别的街上去了。 
于是他们回到了罗斯波丽宫，但伯爵和那个戴蓝色半边面具的人已不见了。那两个挂黄缎窗帘的窗口里还有人，他们大概是伯爵请来的客人。正在这时，那口宣布狂欢节开幕的钟发出了结束的讯号。弗兰兹和阿尔贝这时正在马拉特街的对面。车夫一言不发，驱车向那条街驰去，驰过爱斯巴广场和罗斯波丽宫，在旅馆门口停了下来。派里尼老板到门口来迎接他的客人。弗兰兹一开口就问伯爵，并表示很抱歉没能及时去接他回来，但派里尼的话使他放了心，他说基督山伯爵曾吩咐另外为他自己备了一辆马车，已在四点钟的时候把他从罗斯波丽宫接来了。伯爵并且还托他把爱根狄诺戏院的包厢钥匙交给这两位朋友。弗兰兹问阿尔贝接不接受他的好意，但阿尔贝在到戏院去以前，还有大计划要实行，所以他并没答复弗兰兹的话，却问派里尼老板能不能给他找一个裁缝。 
“裁缝！”店东说，“找裁缝来干什么？” 
“给我们做两套罗马农民穿的衣服，明天要用。”阿尔贝回答。 
店东摇摇头。“马上给你们做两套衣服，明天要用？请两位大人原谅，这个要求法国气太重了，因为在这一个星期以内，即使你们要找一个裁缝在一件背心上钉六粒钮扣，每钉一粒纽扣给他一个艾居，他也不会干的。” 
“那么我只能放弃这个念头了？” 
“不，我们有现成做好的。一切交给我好了，明天早晨，当您醒来的时候，您就会找到一套样样齐备的服装，保证您满意。” 
“我亲爱的阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说，“一切让我们的店家去办好了，他已经证明过他是满有办法的。我们放心吃饭吧，吃完以后去看意大利歌剧去。” 
“同意，”阿尔贝回答说，“但要记住，派里尼老板，我的朋友和我明天早晨一定要用刚才所说的那种衣服，这是最最重要的。” 
店主重新向他们保证，请他们只管放心，一定按他们的要求去办。于是，弗兰兹和阿尔贝上楼到了他们的房间里，开始脱衣服。阿尔贝把衣服脱下来的时候，小心翼翼地把那束紫罗兰保存了起来，这是他明天识别的标记。两位朋友在餐桌前坐了下来。阿尔贝禁不住谈论起基督山伯爵的餐桌和派里尼老板的餐桌之间的不同。弗兰兹虽然似乎并不喜欢伯爵，却也不得不承认优势并不在派里尼这一边。当他们吃最后一道点心的时候，仆人进来问他们希望在什么时候备车。阿尔贝和弗兰兹互相望着对方，深怕真的滥用了伯爵的好意。那仆人懂得他们的意思。“基督山伯爵大人已确确实实地吩咐过了，”他说，“马车今天整天听两位大人的吩咐，所以两位大人只管请用好了，不必怕失礼。” 
他们决定尽情地享受伯爵的殷勤招待，于是就吩咐去把马套起来，在套马的期间，他们换了一套晚礼服，因为他们身上所穿的这套衣服，经过了无数次战斗，已多少有点不怎么好了。经过这一番小心打扮之后，他们就到了戏院里，坐在了伯爵的包厢里。第一幕上演的时候，Ｇ伯爵夫人走进了她的包厢。她首先就向昨天晚上伯爵呆的那个包厢看了看，因此她一眼便看到弗兰兹和阿尔贝坐在她曾对弗兰兹发表过怪论的那个人的包厢里。她的观剧望远镜就这样一动不动地对准着他们，弗兰兹觉得如果不去满足她的好奇心，那就未免太残酷了，于是他就利用意大利戏院里观众的特权，包括利用他们的包厢作接待室，带着他的朋友离开了他们自己的包厢去向伯爵夫人致意。他们刚一踏进包厢，她就示意请弗兰兹去坐那个荣誉座。这一次轮到阿尔贝坐在后面了。 
“哎，”她简直不等弗兰兹坐下就问道，“您简直象没有别的好事可干了似的，光想去认识这位罗思文勋爵，阿唷，你们成了世界上最要好的朋友了吧。” 
“还没到那种程度，伯爵夫人，”弗兰兹回答说，“但我不能否认我们已打扰了他一整天。” 
“一整天？” 
“是的，从今天早晨起，我们跟他一起用餐，后来我们整天坐他的马车，而现在又占据了他的包厢。” 
“那么您以前认识他吗？” 
“是的，但也可以说不是。” 
“这话怎么讲？” 
“说来话长。” 
“讲给我听听。” 
“恐怕要吓坏您的。” 
“另外举个理由吧。” 
“至少请等到这个故事告一段落了再说。” 
“好极了。我爱听有头有尾的故事。但先告诉我你们怎么认识他的？是有人把你们介绍给他的吗？” 
“不，是他把自己介绍给我们的。” 
“什么时候？” 
“昨天晚上，我们离开您以后。” 
“谁做的中间人？” 
“说来也十分平淡无味，是我们的旅馆老板。” 
“那么，他和你们住在伦敦旅馆了？” 
“不但同住在一家旅馆，而且同住在一层楼上。” 
“他叫什么名字呢？你们当然知道罗。” 
“基督山伯爵。” 
“那是种什么名字呀？这可不是个族名。” 
“不，这是一个岛的名字，那个岛是他买下来的。” 
“而他是一位伯爵？” 
“一位托斯卡纳的伯爵。” 
“哦，那一点我们还是不谈了吧，”伯爵夫人说道，因为她本人就是威尼斯历史最悠久的一家贵族出身的。“他是怎么样的一种人呢？” 
“去问马尔塞夫子爵吧。” 
“您听着，马尔塞夫先生，我在听您指教呢。”伯爵夫人说。 
“夫人，”阿尔贝答道，“要是我们再不觉得他的为人有趣，我们也实在太难讨好啦，一个交往十年的朋友也不会象他这样待我们更好的了，他态度高雅，应付巧妙，礼貌周到，显然是一位交际场的人物。” 
“嘿，”伯爵夫人微笑着说道，“依我看那位僵尸只不过是一位百万富翁罢了。你们没有看见她吗？” 
“她？” 
“昨天那个希腊美人。” 
“没有。我想，我们听到了她弹ｇｕｚｌａ琴声音，但人却没有看到。” 
“你说没有看到，”阿尔贝插嘴说，“别故作神秘了吧。那个戴蓝色半边面具，坐在挂白窗帘窗口的人你当她是谁？” 
“这个挂白窗帘的窗口在什么地方？？伯爵夫人问道。 
“在罗斯波丽宫。” 
“伯爵在罗斯波丽宫有三个窗口吗？” 
“是的。您有没有经过高碌街？” 
“经过了。” 
“好了，您有没有注意到两个挂黄缎窗帘的窗口和一个挂白缎窗帘上绣红十字的窗口？那就是伯爵的窗口。” 
“咦，他一定是一个印度王公啦！你们知道那三个窗口要值多少钱？” 
“得两三百罗马艾居吧！” 
“两三千欧！” 
“见鬼！” 
“他的岛上有这么大的出产吗？” 
“那里是一个铜板都生不出来的。” 
“那么他为什么要买下它呢？” 
“只是为了一种狂想而已。” 
“那么他真是一个奇人了？” 
“的确，”阿尔贝说，“在我看来，他多少有点怪僻。假如他在巴黎，而且是戏院里的一个老观众，我就要说他是一个把世界当舞台的愤世嫉俗的丑角，或是一个读小说着了迷的书呆子。的确，他今天早晨所演的那两三手，真大有达第亚或安多尼的作风。” 
这时，来了一位新客，弗兰兹就按照惯例，把他的位置让给了他。这一来，话题也转变了，一小时以后，两位朋友已回到了他们的旅馆里。派里尼老板已经在着手为他们弄明天化装的衣服，他向他们保证，一定会使他们十分满意的。 
第二天早晨九点钟，店主走进弗兰兹的房间，后面跟着一个裁缝，裁缝的手臂上搭着八九套罗马农民的服装。他们挑选了两套一式一样合身的服装，然后叫裁缝在他们每人的帽子上缝上二十码左右的缎带，再给两绺下层阶级在节日时装饰用的各种颜色的长丝穗。阿尔贝急于想知道他穿上这套新装以后究竟风度如何。他穿的是蓝色天鹅绒的短褂和裤子，绣花的丝袜，搭扣的皮鞋和一件绸背心。这一漂亮的打扮简直使他帅劲十足。当他把风流花阔带围到腰上，戴上帽子，并把帽子很潇洒地歪在一边，使一绺丝带垂到肩头上的时候，弗兰兹不得不承认那种装束颇富于自然美。所谓自然美，是指某种民族特别适宜于穿某种服装而言，譬如说土耳其人，他们以前老爱穿飘飘然的长袍，那是很富于诗情画意的，而他们现在穿的是纽扣到下巴的蓝色制服，戴上红帽子，看上去活象一只红盖子的酒瓶，不是难看透了吗？弗兰兹向阿尔贝恭维了一番，阿尔贝自己也对着镜子照了照，脸上带着踌躇满志的微笑。他们正在这样打扮时，基督山伯爵进来了。 
“二位，”他说，“有一个同伴虽然很令人高兴，但完全自由有时更让人高兴。我是来告诉你们，在今天和狂欢节其余的日子里，我那辆马车完全听你们支配。店主也许告诉你们了，我另外还有三四辆马车，所以你们不会使我自己没车子坐的。请随便用吧，用来去玩也好，用来去办正经事情也好。” 
两个青年很想谢绝，但他们又找不到一个很好的理由来拒绝一个这样正合他们心愿的好意。基督山伯爵在他们的房间里呆了一刻钟光景，极其从容地谈论着各式各样的问题。我们已经说过，他对于各国的文学是很熟悉的。一看他客厅里的墙壁，弗兰兹和阿尔培就知道他是一个美术爱好者。而从他无意间吐露的几句话里，他们知道他对于科学也并不陌生，而对药物学似乎尤其感兴趣。两位朋友不敢回请伯爵吃早餐，因为，用派里尼老板非常蹩脚的饭菜来和他那上等酒筵交换，未免太荒唐了。他们就这样很坦白地告诉了他，他接受了他们的歉意，神色之间表示他很能体谅他们处境的为难。阿尔贝被伯爵风度给迷住了，要不是伯爵曾显露出对科学方面的知识，他真要把他看成是一个老牌绅士了。最使他们高兴的是他们可以随意支配那辆马车，因为昨天下午那些漂亮的农民所乘的是一辆非常雅致的马车，而阿尔贝对于要和他们并驾齐驱，并不感到遗憾。下午一点半时，他们下了楼，车夫和跟班在他们化装衣服上又套上了制服，这使他们看来更滑稽可笑，同时也为弗兰兹和阿尔贝博得不少喝采。阿尔贝已把那束萎谢了的紫罗兰插在了他的纽扣眼上。钟声一响，他们就急忙从维多利亚街驶入了高碌街。兜到第二圈，从一辆满载着女丑角的马车里抛来了一束新鲜的紫罗兰，阿尔贝马上明白了，象他和他的朋友一样，那些农民也换了装，而不知究竟是由于偶然的结果，还是由于双方有了一种心心相印的感觉，以致他换上了她们的服装，而她们却换上了他的。 
阿尔贝把那束新鲜的花插在了他的纽扣眼里，但那束萎谢了的仍拿在手里。当他又遇到那辆低轮马车的时候，他有声有色的把花举到他的唇边，这一举动不但使那个抛花的美人大为高兴，而且她那些快乐的同伴们似乎也很欣喜若狂。这一天象前一天一样愉快，甚至更热闹更嘈杂些。他们有一次曾看到伯爵在他的窗口里，但当他们再经过的时候，他已经不见了。不用说，阿尔贝和那个农家美女之间的调情持续了一整天。傍晚回来的时候，弗兰兹发现有一封大使馆送来的信，通知他明天就可以光荣地得到教皇的接见。他以前每次到罗马来，总要恳求并获得这种恩典，在宗教情绪和感恩的鼓舞之下，他若到这位集各种美德于一身的圣·彼得的继承人脚下去表示一番敬意，就不愿离开这基督世界的首都。所以那天，他没多少心恩去想狂欢节了，因为格里高利十六虽然极其谦诚慈爱，但人一到了这位尊严高贵的老人面前，就会不自觉地产生一种敬畏之感。 
从梵蒂冈回来的时候，弗兰兹故意避免从高碌街经过。他那满脑子虔诚的思想，碰上狂欢节这种疯狂的欢乐，是要被亵渎的。五点十分，阿尔贝回来了。他高兴极了。那些女丑角又换上了农家的服装，当她经过的时候，她曾抬起了她的面具。 
她长得很漂亮。弗兰兹向阿尔贝表示祝贺，阿尔贝带着一种当之无愧的神气接受了他的贺喜。他已从某些蛛丝马迹上看出那个无名美人是贵族社会中的人。他决定明天就写信给她。弗兰兹注意到，阿尔贝在详详细细讲这件事的时候，他似乎想要求他做一件事，但他又不愿意讲出来。于是他自己便声明说，不论要求他作出什么牺牲，他都愿意。阿尔贝再三推托，一直推托到在朋友交情上已经说得过去的时候，他才向弗兰兹直说，要是明天肯让他独用那辆马车，那就可算帮了他一个大忙，阿尔贝认为那个美丽的农家女肯抬一抬她的面具，应当归功于弗兰兹的不在，弗兰兹当然不会自私到竟在一件奇遇的中途去妨碍阿尔贝，而且这次奇遇看来一定能够满足的好奇心和鼓起他的自信心。他确信他的这位心里藏不住事的朋友一定会把经过的一切都告诉他的，他自己虽然在意大利游历了两三年，却从来没机会亲自尝试一个这样的经历，弗兰兹也很想知道遇到这种场合应该怎样来对付。所以他答应阿尔贝，明天狂欢节的情形，他只能从罗斯波丽宫的窗口里看看就行了。 
第二天早晨，他看现阿尔贝一次又一次经过。他捧着一个极大的花球，无疑把它当作了传递情书的使者。这种猜测不久便得到了确定，因为弗兰兹看到那个花球（有一圈白色的山茶花为记）已到了一个身穿玫瑰红绸衫的可爱的女丑角手里。所以当天傍晚阿尔贝得意洋洋地回来了，他不单是高兴，简直有点要热昏了头。他相信那位无名美人一定会以同样的方式答复他。弗兰兹已料到了他的心思，就告诉他说，这种吵闹使他有点厌倦了，明天想记账，并把以前的账查看一遍。 
阿尔贝没有猜错，因为第二天傍晚，弗兰兹看到他手里拿着一张折拢的纸，兴高采烈地挥舞着走了进来。“喂，”他说，“我没猜错吧？” 
“她答复你了！”弗兰兹喊道。 
“你念吧！”她说这句话时的神气是无法描述的。弗兰兹接过信，念道：“星期二晚上七点钟，在蓬特飞西街下车，跟随那个夺掉您手中的‘长生烛’的罗马农民走。当您到达圣·甲珂摩教堂第一级台阶的时候，务必请在您那套小丑服装的肩头绑上一绺玫瑰色缎带，以便借此辨认。在此之前，暂不相见。望坚贞和谨慎。” 
“怎么样？”弗兰兹一读完，阿尔贝就问道，“你觉得如何？” 
“我也这么想，”阿尔贝答道，“恐怕勃拉西诺公爵的舞会你只能一个人去参加了。” 
原来弗兰兹和阿尔贝在当天早晨曾接到了那位大名鼎鼎的罗马银行家送来的一张请帖。“小心哪，阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说道。“罗马的贵族全体都会到的。假如你那位无名美人是上流社会中的人，她也一定会到那儿去的。” 
“不管她去不去，我的主意已定了。”阿尔贝回答说。 
“你读过那封信啦？”他又问。 
“是的。” 
“你知道意大利中产阶级的妇女所受的教育是多么欠缺吗？” 
“知道。” 
“那好吧，再读读那封信吧，瞧吧那一手字，再找一找有没有白字或文句不通的地方。”那一手字的确很漂亮，白字也一个都没有。 
“你是个天生的幸运儿。”弗兰兹边说边把信还给他。 
“随你去笑话我吧，”阿尔贝答道，“反正我是堕入情网了。” 
“你说得我心慌啦，”弗兰兹大吼道。“这看我不仅得一个人到勃拉西诺公爵那儿去，而且还得一个人回佛罗伦萨哩。” 
“假如我那位无名美人儿的脾气也象她美丽的容貌一样柔和，”阿尔贝说道，“那我在罗马至少还要住六个星期。我崇拜罗马，而且我对于考古学一向很感兴趣。” 
“喂，再多来两三次这样的奇遇，我看你就很有希望成为皇家学会会员啦。” 
无疑阿尔贝很想严肃地讨论他加入皇家学会的资格问题，但这时侍者来通报说晚餐已经准备好了。阿尔贝的浪漫经历并没有影响他的胃口。他赶紧和弗兰兹一同入席，准备把这一场讨论留到晚餐以后。用完晚餐，侍者又来通报说基督山伯爵来访。他们已经有两天没看见他了。派里尼老板告诉他们说，他到契维塔·韦基亚办正经事去了。他昨天傍晚动身的，一小时前才回来。他真是个可爱的人。不知道他究竟是勉强克制着他自己呢，还是时机尚未到来，唤醒已经有二、三次在他感伤的谈话中反映出来的刻薄的禀赋，总之，他的神态非常安闲。这个人在弗兰兹眼中是一个谜。伯爵一定看出来了认识他，可是他却从不吐露一个字表示他以前曾经见过他。弗兰兹呢，他虽极想提一下他们以前的那次会晤，但他深恐一经提起，会引起对方的不高兴，而对方又是这样慷慨地招待他和他的朋友，所
Chapter 37 The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian
 IN HIS whole life, perhaps, Franz had never before experienced so sudden an impression, so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness, as in this moment. It seemed as though Rome, under the magic breath of some demon of the night, had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. By a chance, which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness, the moon, which was on the wane, did not rise until eleven o'clock, and the streets which the young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. The distance was short, and at the end of ten minutes his carriage, or rather the count's, stopped before the H?tel de Londres. Dinner was waiting, but as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon, Franz sat down without him. Signor Pastrini, who had been accustomed to see them dine together, inquired into the cause of his absence, but Franz merely replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation which he had accepted. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti, the darkness which had replaced the light, and the silence which had succeeded the turmoil, had left in Franz's mind a certain depression which was not free from uneasiness. He therefore dined very silently, in spite of the officious attention of his host, who presented himself two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. 
Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. He ordered the carriage, therefore, for eleven o'clock, desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. At eleven o'clock Albert had not come back. Franz dressed himself, and went out, telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of Bracciano's. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most delightful in Rome, the duchess, one of the last heiresses of the Colonnas, does its honors with the most consummate grace, and thus their fetes have a European celebrity. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them, and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli, and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. "Then he has not returned?" said the duke. 
"I waited for him until this hour," replied Franz. "And do you know whither he went?" 
"No, not precisely; however, I think it was something very like a rendezvous." 
"Diavolo!" said the duke, "this is a bad day, or rather a bad night, to be out late; is it not, countess!" These words were addressed to the Countess G----, who had just arrived, and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia, the duke's brother. 
"I think, on the contrary, that it is a charming night," replied the countess, "and those who are here will complain of but one thing--its too rapid flight." 
"I am not speaking," said the duke with a smile, "of the persons who are here; the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you, and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely; I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome." 
"Ah," asked the countess, "who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour, unless it be to go to a ball?" 
"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf, countess, whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening," said Franz, "and whom I have not seen since." 
"And don't you know where he is?" 
"Not at all." 
"Is he armed?" 
"He is in masquerade." 
"You should not have allowed him to go," said the duke to Franz; "you, who know Rome better than he does." 
"You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi, who gained the prize in the race to-day," replied Franz; "and then moreover, what could happen to him?" 
"Who can tell? The night is gloomy, and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello." Franz felt a shudder run through his veins at observing that the feeling of the duke and the countess was so much in unison with his own personal disquietude. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here, duke," said Franz, "and desired them to come and inform me of his return." 
"Ah," replied the duke, "here I think, is one of my servants who is seeking you." 
The duke was not mistaken; when he saw Franz, the servant came up to him. "Your excellency," he said, "the master of the H?tel de Londres has sent to let you know that a man is waiting for you with a letter from the Viscount of Morcerf." 
"A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz. 
"Yes." 
"And who is the man?" 
"I do not know." 
"Why did he not bring it to me here?" 
"The messenger did not say." 
"And where is the messenger?" 
"He went away directly he saw me enter the ball-room to find you." 
"Oh," said the countess to Franz, "go with all speed--poor young man! Perhaps some accident has happened to him." 
"I will hasten," replied Franz. 
"Shall we see you again to give us any information?" inquired the countess. 
"Yes, if it is not any serious affair, otherwise I cannot answer as to what I may do myself." 
"Be prudent, in any event," said the countess. 
"Oh, pray be assured of that." Franz took his hat and went away in haste. He had sent away his carriage with orders for it to fetch him at two o'clock; fortunately the Palazzo Bracciano, which is on one side in the Corso, and on the other in the Square of the Holy Apostles, is hardly ten minutes' walk from the H?tel de Londres. As he came near the hotel, Franz saw a man in the middle of the street. He had no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert. The man was wrapped up in a large cloak. He went up to him, but, to his extreme astonishment, the stranger first addressed him. "What wants your excellency of me?" inquired the man, retreating a step or two, as if to keep on his guard. 
"Are not you the person who brought me a letter," inquired Franz, "from the Viscount of Morcerf?" 
"Your excellency lodges at Pastrini's hotel?" 
"I do." 
"Your excellency is the travelling companion of the viscount?" 
"I am." 
"Your excellency's name"-- 
"Is the Baron Franz d'Epinay." 
"Then it is to your excellency that this letter is addressed." 
"Is there any answer?" inquired Franz, taking the letter from him. 
"Yes--your friend at least hopes so." 
"Come up-stairs with me, and I will give it to you." 
"I prefer waiting here," said the messenger, with a smile. 
"And why?" 
"Your excellency will know when you have read the letter." 
"Shall I find you here, then?" 
"Certainly." 
Franz entered the hotel. On the staircase he met Signor Pastrini. "Well?" said the landlord. 
"Well--what?" responded Franz. 
"You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from your friend?" he asked of Franz. 
"Yes, I have seen him," he replied, "and he has handed this letter to me. Light the candles in my apartment, if you please." The inn-keeper gave orders to a servant to go before Franz with a light. The young man had found Signor Pastrini looking very much alarmed, and this had only made him the more anxious to read Albert's letter; and so he went instantly towards the waxlight, and unfolded it. It was written and signed by Albert. Franz read it twice before he could comprehend what it contained. It was thus worded:-- 
My Dear Fellow,--The moment you have received this, have the kindness to take the letter of credit from my pocket-book, which you will find in the square drawer of the secretary; add your own to it, if it be not sufficient. Run to Torlonia, draw from him instantly four thousand piastres, and give them to the bearer. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. I do not say more, relying on you as you may rely on me. Your friend, 
ALBERT DE MORCERF. 
P.S.--I now believe in Italian banditti. 
Below these lines were written, in a strange hand, the following in Italian:-- 
Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani, alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. 
LUIGI VAMPA. 
"If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not in my hands, by seven o'clock the Count Albert will have ceased to live." 
This second signature explained everything to Franz, who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment; the street was safer for him. Albert, then, had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief, in whose existence he had for so long a time refused to believe. There was no time to lose. He hastened to open the secretary, and found the pocket-book in the drawer, and in it the letter of credit. There were in all six thousand piastres, but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand. As to Franz, he had no letter of credit, as he lived at Florence, and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days; he had brought but a hundred louis, and of these he had not more than fifty left. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. True, he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. He was, therefore, about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time, when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini, when that worthy presented himself. "My dear sir," he said, hastily, "do you know if the count is within?" 
"Yes, your excellency; he has this moment returned." 
"Is he in bed?" 
"I should say no." 
"Then ring at his door, if you please, and request him to be so kind as to give me an audience." Signor Pastrini did as he was desired, and returning five minutes after, he said,--"The count awaits your excellency." Franz went along the corridor, and a servant introduced him to the count. He was in a small room which Franz had not yet seen, and which was surrounded with divans. The count came towards him. "Well, what good wind blows you hither at this hour?" said he; "have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of you." 
"No; I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter." 
"A serious matter," said the count, looking at Franz with the earnestness usual to him; "and what may it be?" 
"Are we alone?" 
"Yes," replied the count, going to the door, and returning. Franz gave him Albert's letter. "Read that," he said. The count read it. 
"Well, well!" said he. 
"Did you see the postscript?" 
"I did, indeed. 
"'Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani, alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. 
"'LUIGI VAMPA.'" 
"What think you of that?" inquired Franz. 
"Have you the money he demands?" 
"Yes, all but eight hundred piastres." The count went to his secretary, opened it, and pulling out a drawer filled with gold, said to Franz,--"I hope you will not offend me by applying to any one but myself." 
"You see, on the contrary, I come to you first and instantly," replied Franz. 
"And I thank you; have what you will; "and he made a sign to Franz to take what he pleased. 
"Is it absolutely necessary, then, to send the money to Luigi Vampa?" asked the young man, looking fixedly in his turn at the count. 
"Judge for yourself," replied he. "The postscript is explicit." 
"I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting, you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation," said Franz. 
"How so?" returned the count, with surprise. 
"If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa, I am sure he would not refuse you Albert's freedom." 
"What influence can I possibly have over a bandit?" 
"Have you not just rendered him a service that can never be forgotten?" 
"What is that?" 
"Have you not saved Peppino's life?" 
"Well, well, said the count, "who told you that?" 
"No matter; I know it." The count knit his brows, and remained silent an instant. "And if I went to seek Vampa, would you accompany me?" 
"If my society would not be disagreeable." 
"Be it so. It is a lovely night, and a walk without Rome will do us both good." 
"Shall I take any arms?" 
"For what purpose?" 
"Any money?" 
"It is useless. Where is the man who brought the letter?" 
"In the street." 
"He awaits the answer?" 
"Yes." 
"I must learn where we are going. I will summon him hither." 
"It is useless; he would not come up." 
"To your apartments, perhaps; but he will not make any difficulty at entering mine." The count went to the window of the apartment that looked on to the street, and whistled in a peculiar manner. The man in the mantle quitted the wall, and advanced into the middle of the street. 
"Salite!" said the count, in the same tone in which he would have given an order to his servant. The messenger obeyed without the least hesitation, but rather with alacrity, and, mounting the steps at a bound, entered the hotel; five seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room. 
"Ah, it is you, Peppino," said the count. 
But Peppino, instead of answering, threw himself on his knees, seized the count's hand, and covered it with kisses. 
"Ah," said the count, "you have, then, not forgotten that I saved your life; that is strange, for it is a week ago." 
"No, excellency; and never shall I forget it," returned Peppino, with an accent of profound gratitude. 
"Never? That is a long time; but it is something that you believe so. Rise and answer." Peppino glanced anxiously at Franz. "Oh, you may speak before his excellency," said he; "he is one of my friends. You allow me to give you this title?" continued the count in French, "it is necessary to excite this man's confidence." 
"You can speak before me," said Franz; "I am a friend of the count's." 
"Good!" returned Peppino. "I am ready to answer any questions your excellency may address to me." 
"How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi's hands?" 
"Excellency, the Frenchman's carriage passed several times the one in which was Teresa." 
"The chief's mistress?" 
"Yes. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet; Teresa returned it--all this with the consent of the chief, who was in the carriage." 
"What?" cried Franz, "was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with the Roman peasants?" 
"It was he who drove, disguised as the coachman," replied Peppino. 
"Well?" said the count. 
"Well, then, the Frenchman took off his mask; Teresa, with the chief's consent, did the same. The Frenchman asked for a rendezvous; Teresa gave him one--only, instead of Teresa, it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San Giacomo." 
"What!" exclaimed Franz, "the peasant girl who snatched his moccoletto from him"-- 
"Was a lad of fifteen," replied Peppino. "But it was no disgrace to your friend to have been deceived; Beppo has taken in plenty of others." 
"And Beppo led him outside the walls?" said the count. 
"Exactly so; a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via Macello. Beppo got in, inviting the Frenchman to follow him, and he did not wait to be asked twice. He gallantly offered the right-hand seat to Beppo, and sat by him. Beppo told him he was going to take him to a villa a league from Rome; the Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the world. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta San Paola; and when they were two hundred yards outside, as the Frenchman became somewhat too forward, Beppo put a brace of pistols to his head, the coachman pulled up and did the same. At the same time, four of the band, who were concealed on the banks of the Almo, surrounded the carriage. The Frenchman made some resistance, and nearly strangled Beppo; but he could not resist five armed men, and was forced to yield. They made him get out, walk along the banks of the river, and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi, who were waiting for him in the catacombs of St. Sebastian." 
"Well," said the count, turning towards Franz, "it seems to me that this is a very likely story. What do you say to it?" 
"Why, that I should think it very amusing," replied Franz, "if it had happened to any one but poor Albert." 
"And, in truth, if you had not found me here," said the count, "it might have proved a gallant adventure which would have cost your friend dear; but now, be assured, his alarm will be the only serious consequence." 
"And shall we go and find him?" inquired Franz. 
"Oh, decidedly, sir. He is in a very picturesque place--do you know the catacombs of St. Sebastian?" 
"I was never in them; but I have often resolved to visit them." 
"Well, here is an opportunity made to your hand, and it would be difficult to contrive a better. Have you a carriage?" 
"No." 
"That is of no consequence; I always have one ready, day and night." 
"Always ready?" 
"Yes. I am a very capricious being, and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise, or after my dinner, or in the middle of the night, I resolve on starting for some particular point, and away I go." The count rang, and a footman appeared. "Order out the carriage," he said, "and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. You need not awaken the coachman; Ali will drive." In a very short time the noise of wheels was heard, and the carriage stopped at the door. The count took out his watch. "Half-past twelve," he said. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time, but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night, and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels. Are you still resolved to accompany me?" 
"More determined than ever." 
"Well, then, come along." 
Franz and the count went downstairs, accompanied by Peppino. At the door they found the carriage. Ali was on the box, in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. Franz and the count got into the carriage. Peppino placed himself beside Ali, and they set off at a rapid pace. Ali had received his instructions, and went down the Corso, crossed the Campo Vaccino, went up the Strada San Gregorio, and reached the gates of St. Sebastian. Then the porter raised some difficulties, but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome, allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night; the portcullis was therefore raised, the porter had a louis for his trouble, and they went on their way. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way, and bordered with tombs. From time to time, by the light of the moon, which began to rise, Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins, and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped, Peppino opened the door, and the count and Franz alighted. 
"In ten minutes," said the count to his companion, "we shall be there." 
He then took Peppino aside, gave him an order in a low voice, and Peppino went away, taking with him a torch, brought with them in the carriage. Five minutes elapsed, during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna; and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage, which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. "Now," said the count, "let us follow him." Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path, which, at the distance of a hundred paces, led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity. "Ought we to go on?" asked Franz of the count; "or shall we wait awhile?" 
"Let us go on; Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming." One of the two men was Peppino, and the other a bandit on the lookout. Franz and the count advanced, and the bandit saluted them. "Your excellency," said Peppino, addressing the count, "if you will follow me, the opening of the catacombs is close at hand." 
"Go on, then," replied the count. They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks, by which a man could scarcely pass. Peppino glided first into this crevice; after they got along a few paces the passage widened. Peppino passed, lighted his torch, and turned to see if they came after him. The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent, enlarging as they proceeded; still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture, and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way, and then were stopped by, "Who comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. 
"A friend!" responded Peppino; and, advancing alone towards the sentry, he said a few words to him in a low tone; and then he, like the first, saluted the nocturnal visitors, making a sign that they might proceed. 
Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. Franz and the count descended these, and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star, and the walls, dug into niches, which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins, showed that they were at last in the catacombs. Down one of the corridors, whose extent it was impossible to determine, rays of light were visible. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired. 
"Exceedingly," replied Franz. 
"Come with me, then. Peppino, put out the torch." Peppino obeyed, and Franz and the count were in utter darkness, except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare, more evident since Peppino had put out his torch, was visible along the wall. They advanced silently, the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. Franz himself, however, saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light, which served in some manner as a guide. Three arcades were before them, and the middle one was used as a door. These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were, and on the other into a large square chamber, entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. In the midst of this chamber were four stones, which had formerly served as an altar, as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. A lamp, placed at the base of a pillar, lighted up with its pale and flickering flame the singular scene which presented itself to the eyes of the two visitors concealed in the shadow. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column, and was reading with his back turned to the arcades, through the openings of which the newcomers contemplated him. This was the chief of the band, Luigi Vampa. Around him, and in groups, according to their fancy, lying in their mantles, or with their backs against a sort of stone bench, which went all round the columbarium, were to be seen twenty brigands or more, each having his carbine within reach. At the other end, silent, scarcely visible, and like a shadow, was a sentinel, who was walking up and down before a grotto, which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. When the count thought Franz had gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau, he raised his finger to his lips, to warn him to be silent, and, ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium, entered the chamber by the middle arcade, and advanced towards Vampa, who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. 
"Who comes there?" cried the sentinel, who was less abstracted, and who saw by the lamp-light a shadow approaching his chief. At this challenge, Vampa rose quickly, drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet, and twenty carbines were levelled at the count. "Well," said he in a voice perfectly calm, and no muscle of his countenance disturbed, "well, my dear Vampa, it appears to me that you receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony." 
"Ground arms," exclaimed the chief, with an imperative sign of the hand, while with the other he took off his hat respectfully; then, turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene, he said, "Your pardon, your excellency, but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit, that I did not really recognize you." 
"It seems that your memory is equally short in everything, Vampa," said the count, "and that not only do you forget people's faces, but also the conditions you make with them." 
"What conditions have I forgotten, your excellency?" inquired the bandit, with the air of a man who, having committed an error, is anxious to repair it. 
"Was it not agreed," asked the count, "that not only my person, but also that of my friends, should be respected by you?" 
"And how have I broken that treaty, your excellency?" 
"You have this evening carried off and conveyed hither the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. Well," continued the count, in a tone that made Franz shudder, "this young gentleman is one of my friends--this young gentleman lodges in the same hotel as myself--this young gentleman has been up and down the Corso for eight hours in my private carriage, and yet, I repeat to you, you have carried him off, and conveyed him hither, and," added the count, taking the letter from his pocket, "you have set a ransom on him, as if he were an utter stranger." 
"Why did you not tell me all this--you?" inquired the brigand chief, turning towards his men, who all retreated before his look. "Why have you caused me thus to fail in my word towards a gentleman like the count, who has all our lives in his hands? By heavens, if I thought one of you knew that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency, I would blow his brains out with my own hand!" 
"Well," said the count, turning towards Franz, "I told you there was some mistake in this." 
"Are you not alone?" asked Vampa with uneasiness. 
"I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed, and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word. Come, your excellency," the count added, turning to Franz, "here is Luigi Vampa, who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed." Franz approached, the chief advancing several steps to meet him. "Welcome among us, your excellency," he said to him; "you heard what the count just said, and also my reply; let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend's ransom, that this had happened." 
"But," said Franz, looking round him uneasily, "where is the Viscount?--I do not see him." 
"Nothing has happened to him, I hope," said the count frowningly. 
"The prisoner is there," replied Vampa, pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard, "and I will go myself and tell him he is free." The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert's prison, and Franz and the count followed him. "What is the prisoner doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel. 
"Ma foi, captain," replied the sentry, "I do not know; for the last hour I have not heard him stir." 
"Come in, your excellency," said Vampa. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief, who drew back a bolt and opened a door. Then, by the gleam of a lamp, similar to that which lighted the columbarium, Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him, lying in a corner in profound slumber. "Come," said the count, smiling with his own peculiar smile, "not so bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o'clock to-morrow morning." Vampa looked at Albert with a kind of admiration; he was not insensible to such a proof of courage. 
"You are right, your excellency," he said; "this must be one of your friends." Then going to Albert, he touched him on the shoulder, saying, "Will your excellency please to awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms, rubbed his eyelids, and opened his eyes. "Oh," said he, "is it you, captain? You should have allowed me to sleep. I had such a delightful dream. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the Countess G----." Then he drew his watch from his pocket, that he might see how time sped. 
"Half-past one only?" said he. "Why the devil do you rouse me at this hour?" 
"To tell you that you are free, your excellency." 
"My dear fellow," replied Albert, with perfect ease of mind, "remember, for the future, Napoleon's maxim, 'Never awaken me but for bad news;' if you had let me sleep on, I should have finished my galop, and have been grateful to you all my life. So, then, they have paid my ransom?" 
"No, your excellency." 
"Well, then, how am I free?" 
"A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you." 
"Come hither?" 
"Yes, hither." 
"Really? Then that person is a most amiable person." Albert looked around and perceived Franz. "What," said he, "is it you, my dear Franz, whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?" 
"No, not I," replied Franz, "but our neighbor, the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"Oh. my dear count." said Albert gayly, arranging his cravat and wristbands, "you are really most kind, and I hope you will consider me as under eternal obligations to you, in the first place for the carriage, and in the next for this visit," and he put out his hand to the Count, who shuddered as he gave his own, but who nevertheless did give it. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement; he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him, and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered; as for Franz, he was enchanted at the way in which Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of the bandit. "My dear Albert," he said, "if you will make haste, we shall yet have time to finish the night at Torlonia's. You may conclude your interrupted galop, so that you will owe no ill-will to Signor Luigi, who has, indeed, throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman." 
"You are decidedly right, and we may reach the Palazzo by two o'clock. Signor Luigi," continued Albert, "is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" 
"None, sir," replied the bandit, "you are as free as air." 
"Well, then, a happy and merry life to you. Come, gentlemen, come." 
And Albert, followed by Franz and the count, descended the staircase, crossed the square chamber, where stood all the bandits, hat in hand. "Peppino," said the brigand chief, "give me the torch." 
"What are you going to do?" inquired the count. 
"l will show you the way back myself," said the captain; "that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman, he preceded his guests, not as a servant who performs an act of civility, but like a king who precedes ambassadors. On reaching the door, he bowed. "And now, your excellency," added he, "allow me to repeat my apologies, and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred." 
"No, my dear Vampa," replied the count; "besides, you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way, that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them." 
"Gentlemen," added the chief, turning towards the young men, "perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you; but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit, wherever I may be, you shall be welcome." Franz and Albert bowed. The count went out first, then Albert. Franz paused for a moment. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said Vampa with a smile. 
"Yes, I have," replied Franz; "I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered." 
"C?sar's Commentaries," said the bandit, "it is my favorite work." 
"Well, are you coming?" asked Albert. 
"Yes," replied Franz, "here I am," and he, in his turn, left the caves. They advanced to the plain. "Ah, your pardon," said Albert, turning round; "will you allow me, captain?" And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch. "Now, my dear count," he said, "let us on with all the speed we may. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano's." 
They found the carriage where they had left it. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali, and the horses went on at great speed. It was just two o'clock by Albert's watch when the two friends entered into the dancing-room. Their return was quite an event, but as they entered together, all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased instantly. 
"Madame," said the Viscount of Morcerf, advancing towards the countess, "yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop; I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise, but here is my friend, whose character for veracity you well know, and he will assure you the delay arose from no fault of mine." 
And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz, Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess, and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers. In the meanwhile Franz was considering the singular shudder that had passed over the Count of Monte Cristo at the moment when he had been, in some sort, forced to give his hand to Albert.  
在他一生中，弗兰兹也许从来没有过这样突兀的一个印象，从没经验过象目前这样从欢乐到悲哀的急速转变。似乎整个罗马，在一个夜游神的一口魔气之下，突然变成了一座大坟墓，刚好时逢月缺，月亮要到十一点钟才会升起来，这就更增加了黑暗的浓度。这个青年人所经过的街道，都被包围在深深的阴暗里。路途原是很短的，十分钟以后，他的马车，更确切地说，伯爵的马车，已在伦敦旅馆门前停了下来。晚餐已准备好了，由于阿尔贝已说过，他不会很快就回来的，所以弗兰兹也就不等他了，独自一个人在餐桌前坐了下来。派里尼老板一向总是看到他们一同用餐的，于是便问他阿尔贝为什么不在，弗兰慈回答说，阿尔贝昨天晚上接到一张请帖，赴宴去了。长生烛的突然熄灭，接替光明的黑暗，和那继骚闹喧嚣而来的沉寂，都在弗兰兹的头脑里留下了某种不安的抑郁之感。所以，尽管店主向他表示过分殷勤的关切，并几次三番亲自来问他还需要什么，他用餐的时候还是非常沉静。 
弗兰兹决定尽可能的等一等阿尔贝。吩咐马车在十一点钟的时候准备好，并希望到那时派里尼老板来通报说阿尔贝回来了。到了十一点钟，阿尔贝仍没有回来。弗兰兹就穿上衣服出去了。告诉店主说他到勃拉西诺公爵府去了，今晚不回来了。勃拉西诺公爵府是罗马最令人愉快的家庭之一，他的夫人是哥伦纳斯王国最后一支的继承人之一，她把公爵府布置得十分雅致优美，他们的宴会是在全欧洲闻名的。弗兰兹和阿尔贝曾带着介绍信来拜会过他们，所以弗兰兹一到，第一个问题便是他的同伴到哪儿去了。弗兰兹回答说，他是在长生烛快熄灭的时候离开他的，后来就混到玛西罗街的人群里不见了。 
“那么他还没有回来吗？”公爵问。 
“我一直等他到现在。”弗兰兹答道。 
“您不知道他去哪儿吗？” 
“不，不十分清楚，但，我想大概是去赴幽会了。” 
  
  
“见鬼！”公爵说道，“今天这样的日子，或说得更确切些，在今晚上，深夜出门，实在是很不妙的呀，是不是，伯爵夫人？” 
这几句话是对Ｇ伯爵夫人说的，她刚刚到，正倚着公爵的弟弟托洛尼亚先生的肩膀走过来。 
“恰恰相反，我认为今天晚上很有趣，”伯爵夫人答道，“这儿的人只恨一件事——恨夜晚过得太快。” 
“我不是说这儿的人。”公爵微笑着说道，“这儿唯一的危险在于男人，他们爱上了您，而在于女人，她们看到您这样可爱就不免妒嫉生气。我是指那些在罗马街上奔波的人而言。” 
“啊！”伯爵夫人问道，“这个时候谁还会在罗马街道上奔波，除非是去赴舞会的？” 
“伯爵夫人，我们那位朋友阿尔贝·马尔塞夫，今天晚上七点钟左右离开了我，追他那位无名美人去了，”弗兰兹说道，“直到现在我还没看见他。” 
“您不知道他在哪儿吗？” 
“一点都不知道。” 
“他有没有带武器去？” 
“他是穿着小丑的服装去的。” 
“您不该让他去的，”公爵对弗兰兹说道，“您对于罗马的情况知道得比他清楚的多呀。” 
“想要他不去，就等于要拉住今天赛马夺标的那匹三号马，”弗兰兹说道，“而且，他会有什么危险呢？” 
“那谁敢说？今天晚上天色很阴沉，而玛西罗街离狄伯门又非常近。” 
弗兰兹看到公爵和伯爵夫人的感觉和他自己的焦虑这样一致，就觉得一阵寒颤透过了他的全身。“公爵，我曾告诉旅馆里的人，说我今天很荣幸能在这儿过夜，”弗兰兹说，“我叫他们等他一回来就来通知我。” 
“啊！”公爵答道，“我想，我这个仆人大概是来找您的。” 
公爵没有猜错，因为那个仆人一看见弗兰兹，就向他走过来。“大人，”他说道，“伦敦旅馆的老板派人来禀告您，说有一个给马尔塞夫子爵送信的人在那儿等您。” 
“给马尔塞夫子爵送信的！”弗兰兹惊叫道。 
“是的。” 
“那人是谁？” 
“我不知道。” 
“他为什么不把信给我送到这儿来？” 
“那个信差没有说。” 
“信差在哪儿？” 
“他一看到我进舞厅来找您，就马上走了。” 
“噢！”伯爵夫人对弗兰兹说，“赶快去吧！可怜的小伙子！或许他遇到什么意外了吧。” 
“我得赶紧去。”弗兰兹答道。 
“要是事情并不严重，我会回来的，不然的话，我自己也不知道我该做些什么呢。” 
“不管发生什么事，要慎重呀。”伯爵夫人说道。 
“噢！放心好了。” 
弗兰兹拿起他的帽子，急忙走了出去。他已经把他的马车打发走了，原吩咐叫他们在两点钟来接他的。幸亏勃拉西诺府一边靠高碌街，一边临圣·阿彼得广场，离伦敦旅馆不到十分钟的路。当弗兰兹走近旅馆的时候，他看见有一个人正站在街中心。他相信这一定是阿尔贝派来的信差。那个人全身裹在一件大披风里。弗兰兹向他走过去，但使他极其惊讶的是，那个人反而先向他开口了。“大人找我干吗？”他一边问，一边后退了一步，象是很戒备的样子。 
“你是马尔塞夫子爵派来的送信给我的那个人吗？”弗兰兹问道。 
“大人是住在派里尼的旅馆里的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“大人是子爵的同伴吗？” 
“不错。” 
“大人的尊称是——” 
“弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵。” 
“那么这封信是送给大人的了。” 
“要不要回信？”弗兰兹一边从他手里接过那封信，一边问。 
“要的，至少您的朋友希望如此。” 
“跟我上楼来吧，我写回信给你。” 
“我还是等在这儿的好。”那信差微笑着说。 
“为什么？” 
“大人读了信就知道了。” 
“那么，我一会儿还能在这儿找到你吗？” 
“当然啦。” 
弗兰兹往旅馆里走去。他在楼梯上遇到了派里尼老板。 
“怎么样？”旅馆老板问。 
“什么怎么样？”弗兰兹反问道。 
“您见到您的朋友派来找您的那个人了吗？”他问弗兰兹。 
“是的，我见到他了，”他答道。“他把这封信给了我。请把我房间里的蜡烛点上好吗？” 
旅馆老板吩咐点一支蜡烛来拿到弗兰兹的房间里去。这个年轻人看到派里尼老板的神色非常惊惶，就更急于要看阿尔贝的来信，所以他立刻走到蜡烛前面，拆开了那封信。信是阿尔贝写的，底下有他的签名。弗兰兹读了两遍才明白信里的意思。 
信的内容如下： 
“我亲爱的朋友，收到此信时，务请劳神立刻在我的皮夹里找出那张汇票（皮夹子在写字台的大抽屉里），如数目不够，把你的也加上。赶快到托洛尼亚那儿，在他那儿当场点出四千毕阿士特，将款子交与来人。我急于要这笔钱，不能拖迟。我不多说了，一切信托你了，象你可以信托我一样。 
——你的朋友阿尔贝·马尔塞夫 
附笔我现在相信意大利的确有强盗了。” 
在这几行字之下，还有两行笔迹陌生的意大利文：“那四千毕阿士特假如在早晨六点钟到不了我的手里，阿尔贝马尔塞夫子爵在七点钟就活不成了。——罗吉·万帕” 
弗兰兹一看这第二个签名，就一切都明白了，他现在懂得那个信差为什么不肯到他的房间里来的原因了：街上对他要比较安全一些。这么说，阿尔贝是落在那个大名鼎鼎的强盗头子手里了，而那个强盗头子的存在是他一向拒绝相信的。不能再浪费时间了。他急忙打开写字台，从抽屉里拿出皮夹子，从皮夹子里拿出汇票，那张汇票的总数是六千毕阿士特；而在这六千之中，阿尔贝已花去了三千。至于弗兰兹，他根本没有汇票，因为他原住在佛罗伦萨，到罗马来只玩七八天的，他只带了一百路易来，现在剩下的已不足五十了。所以两个人的钱加起来，距阿尔贝所要的那笔数目还差七八百毕阿士特。不错，在这种情形之下，他相信托洛尼亚先生一定肯帮忙的。他不敢浪费时间，正想回到勃拉西诺府去，突然他的脑子里闪过了一个念头。他想起了基督山伯爵。弗兰兹正要拉铃叫派里尼老板，那可敬的人却自己来了。“我的好先生，”他急急地说，“你知道伯爵是否在家？” 
“在家，大人，他已经回来了。” 
“他上床了没有？” 
“我想还没有吧。” 
“那么请你去敲一下他的门，问他能不能见我一下。” 
派里尼老板遵命而去，五分钟以后，他回来了，说：“伯爵恭候大人。” 
弗兰兹顺着走廊走，一个仆人把他领到了伯爵那儿。他正在一间小书房里，这个房间四周都是靠背长椅，弗兰兹以前没见过，伯爵向他迎上来。“哦，是什么风把您在这个时候吹到这儿来了？”他说，“您是来和我一同用晚餐的吧？您真太赏脸了。” 
“不，我是来跟您谈一件非常严重的事情的。” 
“一件严重的事情！”伯爵说道，并带着他那一贯的真挚的态度望着弗兰兹，“是什么事？” 
“这儿只有我们两个人吗？” 
“是的。”伯爵回答，一面走到了门口去看了看又回来。弗兰兹把阿尔贝的那封信交给了他。 
“您看一下这封信吧。”他说道。 
伯爵看了一遍。“哦，哦！”他说道。 
“您看到那批注了吗？” 
“看到了，的确。” 
“那四千毕阿士特假如在早晨六点钟到不了我的手里，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫子爵在七点钟就活不成了。——罗吉·万帕’” 
“您觉得这件事该怎么办？”弗兰兹问道。 
“您有没有他要的那笔钱？” 
“有，但还差八百毕阿士特。” 
伯爵走到他的写字台前，打开一只满装金币的抽屉，对弗兰兹说：“我希望您不会不给面子抛开我而向别人去借钱。” 
“您瞧，恰恰相反，我第一个就立刻来找您了。” 
“为此我谢谢您，请您自己过去拿吧。”于是他向弗兰兹做了一个手势，表示随便他拿多少。 
“那么，我们必需送钱给罗吉·万帕罗？”那青年人问道，这次轮到他来目不转眼地望着伯爵了。 
“您自己决定吧，”他答道，“那批注说得很明白。” 
“我想，假如您肯劳神动一动脑筋，您可以想出一个办法来简化这一场谈判的。”弗兰兹说。 
“怎么会呢？”伯爵带着惊奇的神色回答说。 
“假如我们一同到罗吉·万帕那儿去，我相信他一定会答应您释放阿尔贝的。” 
“我有什么力量可以指使一个强盗呢？” 
“您不是才帮了他一次永世难忘的大忙吗？” 
“帮了什么忙？” 
“您不是才帮他救了庇皮诺的命吗？” 
“什么！”伯爵说道，“是谁告诉您的？” 
“别管了，我知道就是了。” 
伯爵皱紧眉头沉默了一会儿。“假如我去找万帕，您肯陪我一起去吗？” 
“只要我同去不惹人讨厌的话。” 
“就这么办吧。今晚的夜色很美，在罗马郊外散一散步对我们都是很有益的。” 
“我要不要带什么武器去？” 
“带去做什么？” 
“钱呢？” 
“钱带去也没用。来送这封信的人在哪儿？” 
“在街上。” 
“他在等回信吗？” 
“是的。” 
“我必须先知道我们究竟要到哪儿去。我去叫他到这儿来。” 
“那是白费力的，他不会上来的。” 
“到您的房间或许不肯，但到我这儿来，他是不会为难的。” 
伯爵走到面向街的窗口前面，怪声怪气地吹了一声口哨。 
那个穿披风的人就离开了墙壁，走到街中心来。“上来！”伯爵说道，他的语气就象吩咐他的仆人一样，那信差竟毫不犹豫地服从了这个命令，而且还显得很高兴的样子，他蹦蹦跳跳地奔上台阶，窜进了旅馆。五秒钟以后，他已出现在书房的门口了。 
“啊，是你呀，庇皮诺。”伯爵说道。庇皮诺并没回答，只是扑身跪了下来，拿起伯爵的手，在手上印了无数个吻。 
“啊，”伯爵说道，“这么说你还没有忘了是我救了你的命，这真奇怪，因为那是一星期以前的事了呀！” 
“不，大人，我是永远不会忘记的。”庇皮诺回答说，语气间流露出十分感激的样子。 
“永远！那是一个很长的时间啊，你大概是这样相信的。起来吧。”庇皮诺不安地瞟了一眼弗兰兹。“噢，在这位大人面前，你尽说无妨，”伯爵说道，“他是我的朋友。您允许我给您这个头衔吗？”伯爵又用法语说道，“要想获得这个人的信任，必需这样做。” 
“你当着我的面说好了，”弗兰兹说道，“我是伯爵的朋友。” 
“好吧！”庇皮诺答道，“大人随便问我什么问题，我都可以回答。” 
“阿尔贝子爵是怎么落到罗吉手里的？” 
“大人，那个法国人的马车几次经过德丽莎所坐的那辆车子。” 
“就是首领的那位情人吗？” 
“是的。那个法国人抛了一个花球给她，德丽莎还了他一个，这是得到首领同意的，他当时也在车子里。” 
“什么！”弗兰兹不禁失声叫道，”罗吉·万帕也在罗马农民的那辆马车里？” 
“那赶车的就是他，他化装成了车夫。”庇皮诺答道。 
“嗯？”伯爵说。 
“嗯，后来，那个法国人摘下了他的面具，德丽莎，经首领的同意，也照样做了一次。那个法国人便要求和她见一次面，德丽莎答应了他，只是，等在圣·甲珂摩教堂台阶上的不是德丽莎，而是俾波。” 
“什么！”弗兰兹惊叫道，那个抢掉他长生烛的农家姑娘？” 
“是一个十五岁的男孩，”庇皮诺回答说。“您的朋友这次上当算不得什么丢脸，把俾波认错的人多得很呢。” 
“于是俾波就领他出了城，是不是？”伯爵问道。 
“一点不错，一辆马车已等候在玛西罗街街尾。俾波钻进马车里，请那个法国人跟他来，那个法国人没等他请第二次就殷勤地把右手的座位让给了俾波，自己则坐在他的旁边。俾波告诉他说，他要带他到离罗马三哩外的一座别墅去。那个法国人向他保证说，就是要他跟到世界的尽头他都愿意去。车子经立庇得街出了圣·保罗门。当他们出了城的两百码以后，由于那个法国人未免多少有点过份了，所以俾波就摸出一支手枪顶住了他的脑袋。车夫勒住车子，也照样来了一套。同时，那躲在阿尔摩河岸边的两个队员也跳出来把马车围住了。那个法国人抵抗了一会儿，差一点勒死了俾波，但毕竟无法抗拒五个有武装的人，最后只能屈服了。他们把他拖出来，沿着河岸走，带他到了德丽莎和罗吉那儿，他们正在圣·塞巴斯蒂安的陵墓里等他呢。” 
“哦，”伯爵转过脸去对弗兰兹说，“依我看，这倒是一个非常动人的故事。您觉得怎么样？” 
“嘿，我会觉得这个故事非常有趣，”弗兰兹答道，“假如它的主角是别人而不是可怜的阿尔贝。” 
“老实说，假如您在这儿找不到我，”伯爵说，“这件风流艳遇可得使您的朋友大大地破费了。但现在，放心吧，他唯一严重的后果只是受一场虚惊而已。” 
“我们要不要亲自去找他？”弗兰兹问。 
“噢，当然罗。他现在所在的地方风景非常优美。您知不知道圣·塞巴斯蒂安的陵墓？” 
“我从来没去过，但我总想去玩一次。” 
“好了，这是一个送上门来的机会，而且也很难再找到一个更好的时机了。您的马车在不在？” 
“不在。” 
“那没关系，我总不分昼夜准备着一辆的。” 
“总是准备着的？” 
“是呀。我是一个相当任性的人，我告诉您吧，有时候，我刚起身，或是用过午餐以后，或是在半夜里，我忽然决定要动身到某个地方去，于是我就去了。”伯爵拉了一下铃，一个跟班应声而至。“备车，”他说道，“把枪袋里的手枪取掉。不必叫醒车夫，叫阿里驾车好了。” 
不一会儿就听到了车轮的声音，马车在门口停了来。伯爵掏出表来一看。“才十二点半，”他说。“我们本来可以在五点钟动身也来得及的，但去晚了会使您的朋友一夜不安的，所以我们还是赶快去把他从异教徒的手里救出来吧。您还是决心要陪我去吗？” 
“决心更大了。” 
“好，那么，走吧。” 
弗兰兹和伯爵一同下了楼，庇皮诺在后面跟着他们。马车已停在了门口。阿里高踞在座位上，弗兰兹认出他就是基督山岩洞里的那个哑奴。弗兰兹和伯爵钻进车厢里。庇皮诺坐在了阿里的旁边，他们快步出发了。阿里已得到了指示，他驱车经高碌街横过凡西诺广场，穿到圣·格黎高里街，直达圣·塞巴斯蒂安门。到了那里，守城门的哨兵找了不少麻烦，但基督山伯爵拿出了一张罗马总督的特许证，凭证可以不管白天黑夜何时出城或入城都可以，所以铁格子的城门闸吊了上去，守城的哨兵得到一个路易作酬劳，于是他们继续前进了。马车现在所经过的路是古代的阿匹爱氏大道，两旁都是坟墓，月亮现在已开始升起来了，月光之下，弗兰兹好象时时看见一个哨兵从废墟中闪身出来，但庇皮诺一做手势，便又突然退回到黑暗里去了。快在到卡拉卡拉况技场的时候，马车停住了，庇皮诺打开车门，伯爵和弗兰兹跳下车来。 
“十分钟之内，”伯爵对他的同伴说，“我们就可以看到那儿了。” 
他把庇皮诺拉到一边，低声吩咐了他几句话，庇皮诺就拿着一支马车里带来的火把走开了。五分钟过去了，弗兰兹眼看着那个牧羊人顺着一条小径在罗马平原高低不平的地面上向前走，在长长的红色的牧草中消失了，那些牧草就象一只大狮子背颈上竖起的长毛。“现在，”伯爵说，“我们跟他走吧。”弗兰兹和伯爵也顺着这条小径向前走去，走了约一百步，他们就到了一片通到一个小谷底去的斜坡上。他们发觉有两个人正在阴影星谈话。 
“我们应不应该再向前走了？”弗兰兹问伯爵，“还是停一停再说呢？” 
“我们还是继续向前走吧，庇皮诺大概已把我们要来的事通报了哨兵。” 
那两个人之中一个正是庇皮诺，另外那个是一个望风的强盗。弗兰兹和伯爵向前走着，那个强盗向他们行了个礼。 
“大人，”庇皮诺对伯爵说，“请跟我来，墓地就要到了。” 
“那么走吧。”伯爵答道。 
他们走到了一丛灌木后面，在一堆石块中间，有一个仅可容身的入口。庇皮诺第一个从这条石缝里钻了进去，但走了几步之后，地道就开阔起来了。然后他停下来，点着他的火把，转身看看他们有没有跟进来。伯爵先钻进了一个四方形的洞，弗兰兹紧跟着进来，这条狭径微向下倾，愈下愈宽；但弗兰兹和伯爵依旧不得不弯着腰前进，而且仅能容两个人并排走。他们就这样走了约一百多步，突然听到一声谁的喝声。他们立刻停了下来。同时在火把的反光之中，他们看到了一支马枪的枪筒。 
“一个朋友！”庇皮诺应声回答，他独自向那个哨兵走去，向他低声说了几句什么话，于是象第一个哨兵一样，他也向两位午夜访客行了个礼，并做了一个手势，表示他们可以继续前进了。 
那个哨兵的后面有一座二十级的台阶。弗兰兹和伯爵拾级而下，发觉他们已站在了一个坟场的交叉路口。五条路象星星的光芒似的散射出去，墙壁上挖有棺材形的壁龛，这说明他们终于到了陵墓里面。有一处凹进去的地方非常深，看不见里面有什么光。伯爵用他的手扶着弗兰兹的肩头。“您想不想看一座在睡梦中的强盗营？” 
“当然罗。”弗兰兹回答说。 
“那么，跟我来。庇皮诺，把火把弄灭了吧。” 
“庇皮诺遵命，于是，弗兰兹和伯爵突然陷入了无边的黑暗之中。但在他们前面五十步远的地方，墙上似乎有一种暗红色的光在抖动，自从庇皮诺把火把熄灭以后，那个光就看得比较清楚了。他们默默地前进着，伯爵扶着弗兰兹，好象他有一种奇特的本领似的，能在黑暗里看见东西。但弗兰兹自己也能把那光当作他的向导，而且愈向前走，也就愈看得清楚。他们的前面是三座连环的拱廊，中间那一座就成了出入口。这三座拱廊一面通到伯爵和弗兰兹来时的那条地道，一面通到一间四方形的大房间里，房间的四壁上布满了我们以前所说过的那种同样的壁龛。在这个房间的中央，有四块大石头，这显然以前是当祭坛用的，因为那个十字架依旧还在上面。廊柱脚下放着一盏灯，它那青白色的颤抖的光照亮了这一幕奇特的场面，把它呈现在这两位躲在阴影里的来客眼前。房间里坐着一个人，用手肘靠着廊柱，正在看书，他背向着拱廊，不知道有两位新来者正透过拱廊的门洞注视着他。这个人就是队里的首领罗吉·万帕。在他的四周，可以看到二十多个强盗，都裹在他们的披风里，横七竖八一堆堆地躺在地上，或用背靠着这墓穴四周的石凳。在房间里端，隐隐约约可以看到一个哨兵，默默地，象个幽灵似地，在一个洞口前面踱来踱去，至于何以能辨别出那里有一个洞口，是因为那个地方似乎更黑暗。当伯爵觉得弗兰兹已看够了这一幅生动的画面时，他就用手在嘴唇上按了按，示意他不要出声，然后走下那通入墓穴去的三级台阶，从中间的那座拱门进到了房间，向万帕走去，后者正看书看得出神，以致竟没听到他的脚步声。 
“是谁？”哨兵可不象他的首领那样出神，他在灯光之下看到一个人影向他的首领走过去，就吆喝起来。听到这一声吆喝，万帕立刻站了起来，并同时从他的腰带里拔出了一支手枪。一霎时，所有的强盗都跳了起来，二十支马枪平举着对准了伯爵。“喂，”他说道，他的声音十分镇定，脸上的肌肉一点儿都不颤动，“喂，我亲爱的万帕，我看，你接待朋友的礼节倒很隆重呀！” 
“枪放下！”首领一边喊，一边作了一个威严的手势，并和其余那些人一样恭恭敬敬地摘下了他的帽子，然后转向造成这幕场面的那位奇人，说道，“请您恕罪，伯爵阁下，我因绝没想到大人的光临，所以才没有认出您来。” 
“你的记忆力在所有的事上似乎都同样的短暂，万帕，”伯爵说道，“你不但忘记了别人的脸，而且还忘记了你和他们互定的诺言。” 
“我忘记了什么诺言，伯爵阁下？”那强盗问道，神色很惊恐，象一个人做错了事急于想加以弥补的样子。 
“我们不是约定，”伯爵说道，“不仅我个人，连我的朋友在内，你也应该加以尊敬的吗？” 
“我哪件事破坏了这个约定，大人？” 
“你今天晚上把阿尔贝·马尔塞夫子爵绑票绑到了这里。”伯爵用一种使弗兰兹发抖的语气继续说道。“这位年轻的先生是我的一个‘朋友’。这位年轻的先生和我同住在一家旅馆里，他曾坐我的私人马车在高碌街来来去去的兜了八天圈子。可是，我再向你说一遍，你把他绑票绑到这儿来了，并且，”伯爵从他的口袋里拿出了那封信，又说道，“你还向他勒索一笔赎金，好象他是一个无关紧要的人似的。” 
“你们为什么不把这些事告诉我？”匪首转身问他的部下，那些人都被他的目光逼得往后退。“你们为什么让我对象伯爵这样一位我们的性命都捏在他手里的先生食言？我以基督的血发誓！我要是知道了你们中的哪一个知道那位年轻的先生是大人的朋友，我会亲手把他的脑髓打出来的！” 
“是吧，”伯爵转身对弗兰兹说道，“我告诉您这件事是个误会吧。” 
“您不是一个人来的？”万帕不安地问道。 
“我是和接到这封信的人一起来的，我想向他证明，罗吉·万帕是一个信守的人。来吧，大人这是罗吉·万帕，他会因这次误会亲自向您表示他深切的歉意的。” 
弗兰兹走过去，首领也走上前几步来迎接他。“欢迎光临，大人！”他说道，“您已经听到伯爵刚才说的话了，也听到了我的答复。让我再说一句，我是不愿意为了我对您朋友所定的那笔四千毕阿士特的赎金而发生这样一件事的。” 
“可是，”弗兰兹不安地环顾着四周说道，“子爵在哪儿呢？我没看见他呀。” 
“我希望他没出什么事吧？”伯爵皱着眉头说道。 
“肉票在那边，”万帕指着前面有强盗把守着的那个凹进去的地方回答说，“我当亲自去告诉他，他已经自由了。”首领向他所指的那个作为阿尔贝的牢房的地方走去，弗兰兹和伯爵跟在他的后面。 
“肉票在干什么？”万帕问那个哨兵。 
“说实话！队长，”哨兵答道，“我不知道，我有一个钟头没听到他的动静了。” 
“请进来吧，大人。”万帕说道。 
“伯爵和弗兰兹跟着那个强盗头儿走上了七八级台阶，后者拔开门闩，打开了门。于是，在一盏和照亮前面那个墓穴同样的油灯的微光之下，他们看见阿尔贝裹着一件一个强盗借给他的披风，正躺在一个角落里呼呼地大睡呢。“嗨！”伯爵带着他那种奇特的微笑说道，“一个明天早晨七点钟就要被枪毙的人，现在大睡一觉倒实在是不错呀！” 
万帕带着一种很钦佩的神色望着阿尔贝，对于这样勇敢的表现，他显然也是很感动的。 
“您说得不错，伯爵阁下，”他说，“这位一定是您的朋友。” 
于是他走到阿尔贝面前，摇一摇他的肩头，说，请大人醒一醒。” 
阿尔贝伸了个懒腰，擦了擦眼皮，然后睁开眼睛。“啊，啊！”他说，“是你吗，队长？你应该让我睡觉的呀。我做了一个很有趣的梦：梦中我正在托洛尼亚府里和Ｇ伯爵夫人跳极乐舞呢。”说完他从口袋里掏出表来看了一下，这只表他一直保存着，为的是可以知道时间究竟飞驰得有多快。 
“才一点半！”他说，“你见了什么鬼，竟在这个时候来叫醒我？” 
“我是来告诉您已经自由了，大人。” 
“亲爱的，”阿尔贝十分镇定地答道，“还记得拿破仑的那句格言吗？‘除非报告坏消息，否则切勿吵醒我’，要是你能让我多睡一会儿，我就可以把我的极乐舞跳完了，那我就要对你终生感激不尽啦。哦，这么说，他们把我的赎金付清了是吗？” 
“没有，大人。” 
“咦，那么我怎么会自由了呢？” 
“有一个我万事都不能拒绝的人来向我要您来了。” 
“来这儿吗？” 
“是的，来这儿。” 
“真的！那个人可真算是一个最最慈悲的人了。”阿尔贝四面环顾了一下，看到了弗兰兹。“什么！”他说道，“是你吗，亲爱的弗兰兹，谁还曾对朋友表示过这样真挚的友谊呢？” 
“不，不是我，”弗兰兹答道，“是我们的邻居，基督山伯爵。” 
“啊，啊！伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝高兴地说道，并整理了一下他的领结和衣袖，“您真的太好啦，我希望您能知道我是永远感激您的。第一，为了马车，第二，为这件事。”于是他把他的手伸给了伯爵，伯爵在把他的手伸出来的时候，全身打了一个寒颤，但他终于还是把手伸了出来。那个强盗呆愣愣地望着这个场面，感到非常惊奇。显然他是看惯了他的俘虏在他的面前发抖的，可是这个人却一刻都不曾改变他那愉快幽默的态度。至于弗兰兹，他看到阿尔贝在强盗面前能维护民族的尊严，心里非常高兴。“我亲爱的阿尔贝，”他说道，“假如你肯赶紧走，我们还来得及到托洛尼亚府上去过夜。你可以结束你那一曲被打断的极乐舞，那样，你心里就不会再怨恨罗吉先生了，他在这件
Chapter 38 The Compact
 THE FIRST WORDS that Albert uttered to his friend, on the following morning, contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count; true, the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening; but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged. Franz, who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count, in which terror was strangely mingled, felt an extreme reluctance to permit his friend to be exposed alone to the singular fascination that this mysterious personage seemed to exercise over him, and therefore made no objection to Albert's request, but at once accompanied him to the desired spot, and, after a short delay, the count joined them in the salon. "My dear count," said Albert, advancing to meet him, "permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night, and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory; believe me, as long as I live, I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me; and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life." 
"My very good friend and excellent neighbor," replied the count, with a smile, "you really exaggerate my trifling exertions. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20,000 francs, which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses, so that there is not much of a score between us;--but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate, and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take." 
"Upon my word," said Albert, "I deserve no credit for what I could not help, namely, a determination to take everything as I found it, and to let those bandits see, that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world, there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. All that, however, has nothing to do with my obligations to you, and I now come to ask you whether, in my own person, my family, or connections, I can in any way serve you? My father, the Comte de Morcerf, although of Spanish origin, possesses considerable influence, both at the court of France and Madrid, and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself, and all to whom my life is dear, at your disposal." 
"Monsieur de Morcerf," replied the count, "your offer, far from surprising me, is precisely what I expected from you, and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with which it is made;--nay, I will go still further, and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands." 
"Oh, pray name it." 
"I am wholly a stranger to Paris--it is a city I have never yet seen." 
"Is it possible," exclaimed Albert, "that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it." 
"Nevertheless, it is quite true; still, I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way, and calls for immediate correction; but, in all probability, I should have performed so important, so necessary a duty, as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital, had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world, but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there, and, of necessity, was compelled to abandon the idea." 
"So distinguished an individual as yourself," cried Albert, "could scarcely have required an introduction." 
"You are most kind; but as regards myself, I can find no merit I possess, save that, as a millionaire, I might have become a partner in the speculations of M. Aguado and M. Rothschild; but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks, I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. Your offer, however, smooths all difficulties, and I have only to ask you, my dear M. de Morcerf" (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile), "whether you undertake, upon my arrival in France, to open to me the doors of that fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or a native of Cochin-China?" 
"Oh, that I do, and with infinite pleasure," answered Albert; "and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris, in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear Franz, do not smile, I beg of you) with a family of high standing, and connected with the very cream of Parisian society." 
"Connected by marriage, you mean," said Franz, laughingly. 
"Well, never mind how it is," answered Albert, "it comes to the same thing in the end. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris, I shall be quite a sober, staid father of a family! A most edifying representative I shall make of all the domestic virtues--don't you think so? But as regards your wish to visit our fine city, my dear count, I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please." 
"Then it is settled," said the count, "and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated." Franz did not doubt that these plans were the same concerning which the count had dropped a few words in the grotto of Monte Cristo, and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely, hoping to read something of his purpose in his face, but his countenance was inscrutable especially when, as in the present case, it was veiled in a sphinx-like smile. "But tell me now, count," exclaimed Albert, delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo; "tell me truly whether you are in earnest, or if this project of visiting Paris is merely one of the chimerical and uncertain air castles of which we make so many in the course of our lives, but which, like a house built on the sand, is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?" 
"I pledge you my honor," returned the count, "that I mean to do as I have said; both inclination and positive necessity compel me to visit Paris." 
"When do you propose going thither?" 
"Have you made up your mind when you shall be there yourself?" 
"Certainly I have; in a fortnight or three weeks' time, that is to say, as fast as I can get there!" 
"Nay," said the Count; "I will give you three months ere I join you; you see I make an ample allowance for all delays and difficulties. 
"And in three months' time," said Albert, "you will be at my house?" 
"Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day and hour?" inquired the count; "only let me warn you that I am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my engagements." 
"Day for day, hour for hour," said Albert; "that will suit me to a dot." 
"So be it, then," replied the count, and extending his hand towards a calendar, suspended near the chimney-piece, he said, "to-day is the 21st of February;" and drawing out his watch, added, "it is exactly half-past ten o'clock. Now promise me to remember this, and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon." 
"Capital," exclaimed Albert; "your breakfast shall be waiting." 
"Where do you live?" 
"No. 27, Rue du Helder." 
"Have you bachelor's apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience." 
"I reside in my father's house, but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the court-yard, entirely separated from the main building." 
"Quite sufficient," replied the count, as, taking out his tablets, he wrote down "No. 27, Rue du Helder, 21st May, half-past ten in the morning." 
"Now then," said the count, returning his tablets to his pocket, "make yourself perfectly easy; the hand of your time-piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself." 
"Shall I see you again ere my departure?" asked Albert. 
"That depends; when do you leave?" 
"To-morrow evening, at five o'clock." 
"In that case I must say adieu to you, as I am compelled to go to Naples, and shall not return hither before Saturday evening or Sunday morning. And you, baron," pursued the count, addressing Franz, "do you also depart to-morrow?" 
"Yes." 
"For France?" 
"No, for Venice; I shall remain in Italy for another year or two." 
"Then we shall not meet in Paris?" 
"I fear I shall not have that honor." 
"Well, since we must part," said the count, holding out a hand to each of the young men, "allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey." It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him, and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch, for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse. "Let us understand each other," said Albert; "it is agreed--is it not?--that you are to be at No. 27, in the Rue du Helder, on the 21st of May, at half-past ten in the morning, and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" 
"The 21st of May, at half-past ten in the morning, Rue du Helder, No. 27," replied the Count. The young men then rose, and bowing to the count, quitted the room. "What is the matter?" asked Albert of Franz, when they had returned to their own apartments; "you seem more than commonly thoughtful." 
"I will confess to you, Albert," replied Franz, "the count is a very singular person, and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions." 
"My dear fellow," exclaimed Albert, "what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why, you must have lost your senses." 
"Whether I am in my senses or not," answered Franz, "that is the way I feel." 
"Listen to me, Franz," said Albert; "I am glad that the occasion has presented itself for saying this to you, for I have noticed how cold you are in your bearing towards the count, while he, on the other hand, has always been courtesy itself to us. Have you anything particular against him?" 
"Possibly." 
"Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" 
"I have." 
"And where?" 
"Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?" 
"I promise." 
"Upon your honor?" 
"Upon my honor." 
"Then listen to me." Franz then related to his friend the history of his excursion to the Island of Monte Cristo and of his finding a party of smugglers there, and the two Corsican bandits with them. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count, and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the Thousand and One Nights. He recounted, with circumstantial exactitude, all the particulars of the supper, the hashish, the statues, the dream, and how, at his awakening, there remained no proof or trace of all these events, save the small yacht, seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto-Vecchio. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum, between the count and Vampa, in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino,--an engagement which, as our readers are aware, he most faithfully fulfilled. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night, and the embarrassment in which he found himself placed by not having sufficient cash by six or seven hundred piastres to make up the sum required, and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. Albert listened with the most profound attention. 
"Well," said he, when Franz had concluded, "what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling, and, being rich, possesses a vessel of his own. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton, and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense, and have the same liking for this amusement. Now, by way of having a resting-place during his excursions, avoiding the wretched cookery--which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months, while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years,--and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber, Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him; but, to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace, and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital, he has wisely enough purchased the island, and taken its name. Just ask yourself, my good fellow, whether there are not many persons of our acquaintance who assume the names of lands and properties they never in their lives were masters of?" 
"But," said Franz, "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" 
"Why, really the thing seems to me simple enough. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves, but purely and simply fugitives, driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village, and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma; for my own part, I protest that, should I ever go to Corsica, my first visit, ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect, should be to the bandits of Colomba, if I could only manage to find them; for, on my conscience, they are a race of men I admire greatly." 
"Still," persisted Franz, "I suppose you will allow that such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains, who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?" 
"My good friend, as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence, it would ill become me to search too closely into its source; therefore, instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws, you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection; not altogether for preserving my life, for my own idea was that it never was in much danger, but certainly for saving me 4,000 piastres, which, being translated, means neither more nor less than 24,000 livres of our money--a sum at which, most assuredly, I should never have been estimated in France, proving most indisputably," added Albert with a laugh, "that no prophet is honored in his own country." 
"Talking of countries," replied Franz, "of what country is the count, what is his native tongue, whence does he derive his immense fortune, and what were those events of his early life--a life as marvellous as unknown--that have tinctured his succeeding years with so dark and gloomy a misanthropy? Certainly these are questions that, in your place, I should like to have answered." 
"My dear Franz," replied Albert, "when, upon receipt of my letter, you found the necessity of asking the count's assistance, you promptly went to him, saying, 'My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger; help me to deliver him.' Was not that nearly what you said?" 
"It was." 
"Well, then, did he ask you, 'Who is M. Albert de Morcerf? how does he come by his name--his fortune? what are his means of existence? what is his birthplace! of what country is he a native?' Tell me, did he put all these questions to you?" 
"I confess he asked me none." 
"No; he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa, where, I can assure you, in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern, I did not very particularly care to remain. Now, then, Franz, when, for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered, he but asks me in return to do for him what is done daily for any Russian prince or Italian nobleman who may pass through Paris--merely to introduce him into society--would you have me refuse? My good fellow, you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded policy." And this time it must be confessed that, contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men, the effective arguments were all on Albert's side. 
"Well," said Franz with a sigh, "do as you please my dear viscount, for your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation. Still, in spite of all, you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage." 
"He is a philanthropist," answered the other; "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize, given, as you are aware, to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him, I will readily give him the one and promise the other. And now, my dear Franz, let us talk of something else. Come, shall we take our luncheon, and then pay a last visit to St. Peter's?" Franz silently assented; and the following afternoon, at half-past five o'clock, the young men parted. Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris, and Franz d'Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice. But, ere he entered his travelling carriage, Albert, fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into, placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo, on which, beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf, he had written in pencil: 
"27, Rue du Helder, on the 21st May, half-past ten A.M."  
第二天早晨，阿尔贝一见到他的朋友，就要求他陪他去拜访伯爵。不错，前一天晚上，他已经恳切有力地谢过他一次了，但他帮了这么大的忙，是值得再去谢第二次的。弗兰兹觉得伯爵似乎有某种看不见的力量在吸引着他，而且其间还奇怪地夹杂着一种害怕的感觉，他极不愿意让他的朋友单独去这个人那里，于是便答应陪他去了。他们被引入客厅，五分钟之后，伯爵出现了。 
“伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝迎向他说道，“请允许我今天上午向您重述一遍，昨天晚上我表达的谢意太笨劣了，我向您保证，我永远也不会忘记您给予我的所有帮助。我将永远记住您的恩德，甚至我的生命可以说也是您赐予的。” 
“亲爱的邻居，”伯爵微笑着回答说，“您把您欠我的情意未免太夸大了些吧。我除了为您在旅费里省下了约莫两万法郎以外，并没做什么别的事值得您如此感激。请接受我的祝贺，您昨天是那样的安闲自在。听天由命，我很敬佩。” 
“老实说，”阿尔贝说，“我对于自己无能为力的事是从不去枉费心机的，也就是说，随遇而安吧，我是要让那些强盗看看，虽然全世界各地都有人会遭遇到棘手的困境，却只有法兰西民族既便在狰狞的死神面前还能微笑。但那一切，与我所欠您的恩情毫无关系，我这次来是想来问问您，不论我个人，我的家庭，或我的其它方面的关系，能否有什么可以为您效劳的。家父马尔塞夫伯爵，虽然原籍是西班牙人，但在法国和马德里两个宫廷里都有相当的势力，我可以向您保证，我和所有那些爱我的人，都愿意尽力为您效劳。 
“马尔塞夫先生，”伯爵答道，“您的好意我心领了，我真心实意地接受了，您既然提出这样真诚恳切的请求，我倒是真的决定要请您帮一个大忙呢。” 
“什么事？” 
“我从未到过巴黎，我到现在还很不熟悉这个都市。” 
“这怎么可能呢？”阿尔贝惊叫道，“您生活到现在居然从未去过巴黎？我简直难以相信。” 
“可是这的确是真的，我同意您的想法，我到现在还不曾去见识一下这个欧洲的第一大都市，确是一件不可饶恕的事。只是我和那个社会毫无关系，要是以前我能认识一个可以给我引荐的人，我或许早就作一次重要的旅行了。” 
“噢！象您这样的人！”阿尔贝大声说道。 
“您太过奖了，但我觉得自己除了能和阿加多先生或罗斯希尔德先生这些百万富翁一争高低以外，别无所长，我到巴黎又不是去做投机生意的，所以迟迟未去。现在您的好意使我下了决心。这样吧，我亲爱的马尔塞夫先生（这几个字是带着一个极古怪的微笑说的），我一到法国，就由您负责为我打开那个时髦社会的大门，因为我对于那个地方，象对印第安人或印度支那人一样知之甚少。” 
“噢，那一点我完全可以办得到，而且非常高兴！”阿尔贝回答说，“更巧的是，今天早晨我接到家父的一封信，召我回巴黎，是关于我与一个可爱的家庭结合的事情（我亲爱的弗兰兹，请你别笑），而那个家庭也是地位很高，是那种所谓巴黎社会的精华。” 
“婚姻关系吗？”弗兰兹大笑着说。 
“上帝保佑，是的！”阿尔贝回答说，“所以当你回到巴黎的时候，你会发觉我已经安顿下来，或许已成了一家之主了。那很符合我严肃的天性，是不是？但无论如何，伯爵，我再说一遍，我和我的家人都会全身心地为您效劳的。” 
“我接受了，”伯爵说道，“因为我可以向您发誓，我早就想好了几个计划，就等这样一个机会的到来使之实现了。” 
“弗兰兹怀疑这些计划是否和他在基督山的岩洞里所透露出的那一点口风有关，所以当伯爵说话的时候，这位青年仔细地观察着他，希望能从他脸上看到一点蛛丝马迹，究竟是什么计划促使他到巴黎去。但要看透那个人的心是非常困难的，尤其当他用一个微笑来掩饰着的时候。 
“请告诉我，伯爵，”阿尔贝大声说道，他想到能介绍一位象基督山伯爵这样出色的人物，心里高兴，“请实话告诉我，您访问巴黎的这个计划，究竟是出于真心呢，还是那种我们在人生旅途中逢场作戏常许的空愿，象一座建筑在沙堆上的房屋一样，被风一吹就倒了？” 
“我以人格向您担保，”伯爵答道，“我说过的话的确是要实行的。我到巴黎去，一方面是出于心愿，一方面也是由于绝对的必要，所以不得不去。” 
“您有没有决定您自己什么时候回到那儿？” 
“我当然决定了，两三个星期之内。就是说，能多快就多快回到那儿！” 
“好的，”伯爵说道，“我给您三个月的时间。您瞧，我给您的期限是很宽的。” 
“三个月之内，”阿尔贝说道，“您就可以到我的家里？” 
“我们要不要确确实实地来定一个日子和时间呢？”伯爵问道，“只是我得先警告您，我是极其遵守时间的哪。” 
“妙极了，妙极了！“阿尔贝大声说道，“准时守约那最合我的胃口了。” 
“那么，就这么一言为定了，”伯爵答道，然后他用手指着挂在壁炉架旁边的一个日历，说道，“今天是二月二十一日，”又掏出他的表来，说道，“恰巧十点半钟。现在，请答应我记着这一点：请在五月二十日上午十点半钟等着我。” 
“太好了！”阿尔贝说道，“我到时一定准备好早餐恭候您。” 
“您住在什么地方？” 
“海尔达路二十七号。” 
“您在那儿住单身吗？我希望我的到来不会妨碍您。” 
“我住在家父的府邸里，独占庭园侧边一座楼，和正屋是完全隔离的。” 
“很好，”伯爵回答，一面摸出他怀中的记事册来，写下了“五月二十一日早晨十点半，海尔达路二十七号”。“现在，”他一边把记事册放回到口袋里，一边说道，“您只管放心吧，您的挂钟的针是不会比我更加准时的。” 
“我离开之前还能再见到您吗？”阿尔贝问道。 
“那得看情形而定，您什么时候动身？” 
“明天傍晚五点钟。” 
“那样，我必须跟您告别了，因为我不得不到那不勒斯去一趟，星期六晚上或星期天早晨以前不会回来。您呢，男爵阁下，”伯爵又向弗兰兹说道，“您也明天离开吗？” 
“是的。” 
“到法国去？” 
“不，去威尼斯，我在意大利还得呆一两年。” 
“那么我们不能在巴黎相会了？” 
“恐怕我不能有那个荣幸了。” 
“好吧，既然我们必须分离了，”伯爵伸手和两个青年每人握了一次，“请允许我祝愿你们二位旅途平安愉快。” 
弗兰兹的手是第一次和这个神秘的人接触，当两手相触的时候，他下意识地打了一个寒颤，因为他觉得那只手冰冷冰冷的，象是一具尸身上的手似的。 
“我们把话已讲明了，”阿尔贝说道，“说定了，是不是？您在五月二十一日早晨十点半钟到海尔达路，而且您是以人格担保一定守时的？” 
“讲定的这一切都以人格担保，”伯爵回答说，“放心好了，您一定可以在约定的时间和地点看到我的。” 
两个青年于是站起身来，向伯爵鞠了一躬，离开了那个房间。 
“怎么啦？”当他们回到自己的房间里以后，阿尔贝问弗兰兹，“你似乎心事重重的。” 
“我坦白地告诉你吧，阿尔贝，”弗兰兹答道，“我正在费尽心机地想搞清楚这位古怪的伯爵的真正来历，而你和他订期在巴黎相见的那个约会真使我非常担忧。” 
“我亲爱的，”阿尔贝惊道，“那件事有什么使你不安呢？咦，你疯啦！” 
“随便你怎么说吧，”弗兰兹说道，“疯不疯，事实如此。” 
“听我说，弗兰兹，”阿尔贝说道，“我很高兴借这个机会来告诉你，我注意到了，你对伯爵的态度显然很冷淡，但从另一方面讲，他对我们的态度可说是十全十美的了。你为什么不喜欢他呢？” 
“这必有原因的。” 
“你在到这儿来以前，曾遇到过他吗？” 
“遇到过。” 
“在什么地方？” 
“你能不能答应我，我讲给你听的事，一个字都不要传出去？” 
“我答应。” 
“以人格担保？” 
“以人格担保。” 
“那我就满意了，那么听着。” 
弗兰兹于是向他的朋友叙述了那次到基督山岛去游历的经过，以及如何在那儿发现了一群走私贩子，如何有两个科西嘉强盗和他们在一起等等。他很卖力地叙述了如何得到伯爵那次几乎象变魔术似的款待，如何在那《一千零一夜》的岩洞里受到他富丽堂皇的房宅里的招待。他毫无保留地详述了那一次晚餐——大麻，石像，梦和现实；如何在他醒来的时候所发生的一切都不曾留下一丝痕迹，而只见那艘小游艇在远远的地平线上向韦基奥港驶去。接着他又详述了他在斗兽场里偷听到伯爵和万帕的那一席谈话，伯爵如何在那次谈话里许诺为庇皮诺那个强盗设法弄到赦罪令。这个协定，读者当然明白，他是最忠实地完成了的。最后，他讲到前一天晚上的那个奇遇，他为了六七百毕阿士特，如何感到为难，如何想起请伯爵帮忙的那个念兴所带来的圆满结果。 
阿尔贝全神贯注地倾听着。“嗯，”他等弗兰兹讲完后说道，“就从你所讲的这种种事情上来看，他又有什么可讨厌的地方呢？伯爵喜欢旅行，因为有钱，所以自己买了条船。你到朴茨茅斯或索斯安普敦瞧瞧去吧，你会发现港口里挤满了游艇，都是属于这种有同样癖好的英国富翁的。而为了在他旅行的途中有一个休息的地方，为了逃避那种毒害我们的可怕的饭菜——我吃了四个月，你吃了四年，这了避免睡这种谁都无法入睡的讨厌的床铺，他在基督山安置了一个窝。然后，当他把地方安排好以后，他又怕托斯卡纳政府会把他赶走，使他白白损失那一笔安置费，所以他买下了那个岛，并袭用了小岛的名字。你且自问一下，亲爱的人，在我们相识的人里面，不是也有用地名或产业的名字命名的吗？而那些地方或产业，他们生平不是从来不曾拥有过的吗？” 
“但是，”弗兰兹说道，“科西喜强盗和他的船员混在一起，这件事你又怎么解释呢？” 
“哎，那件事有什么可大惊小怪的呢？谁都没有你知道得更清楚啦，科西嘉强盗并不是流氓或贼，而纯粹是为亲友复仇才被本乡赶出来的亡命者，和他们交朋友没什么见不得人的；因为以我自己而论，我可以明目张胆地说，假如我一旦去访问科西嘉，那么我在拜访总督或县长之前，一定先去拜访一下哥伦白的强盗，当然要是我能设法和他们相会的话。我觉得他们是很有趣的。” 
“可是，”弗兰兹坚持说，“我想你大概也承认，象万帕和他的喽罗们这种人，可都是些流氓恶棍，当他们把你抢去的时候，除了绑票勒索以外，该没有别的动机了吧。而伯爵竟能有力量左右那些暴徒，这一点你又怎么解释啊？” 
“我的好朋友，我现在的平安多半得归功于那种力量，这件事我不应该太刨根问底。所以，你不能要求我来责备他和不法之徒之间的这种密切关系，而应该让我原谅他在这种关系上越礼的细节，这倒决非是因为他保全了我的性命，而因为依我看，我的性命是不会有什么危险的，倒是给我省下了四千毕阿士特，四千毕阿特，换成我国的钱，要相当于两万四千里弗。这笔数目，要是我在法国被绑票是肯定不会被估的这么高的，这完全证实了那句俗话，”阿尔贝大笑着说，“没有一个预言家能在他的本国受到尊崇。” 
“谈到国籍，”弗兰兹答道，“伯爵究竟是哪国人呢？他的本族语又是哪一种语言呢？他靠什么生活？他这种庞大的财产是从哪儿得来的呢？他的生活是这样的神秘莫测，在他的前期生活中，曾发生过什么大事，以致使他在后来岁月中抱有这样黑暗阴郁的一种厌世观呢？假如我处在你的位置，这些问题我当然是希望能得到解答的。” 
“我亲爱的弗兰兹，”阿尔贝回答说，“当你收到我那封信，觉得必须请伯爵帮忙的时候，你就立刻到他那儿去了，说，‘我的朋友阿尔贝·马尔塞夫遇险了，请帮助我去救他出来吧。’你是否是这样说的？” 
“是的。” 
“好了，那么，他有没有问你，‘阿尔贝·马尔塞夫先生是谁，他的爵位，他的财产是从哪儿来的，他靠什么生活，他的出生地点在什么地方，他是哪国人？’请告诉我，他有没有问你这种种问题？” 
“我承认他一点都没有问我。” 
“不，他只是把我从万帕先生的手里救了出来，我老实告诉你，虽然当时我在表面上极其安闲自在，但我实在是很不愿意久留在那种地方。现在，弗兰兹，他既然这样毫不犹豫迅速地为我效劳，而他所求的报酬，只是要我尽一种很平常的义务，象我对经过巴黎的任何俄国亲王或意大利贵族所效的微劳一样，只要我介绍他进入社交界就行了，你能忍心让我拒绝他吗？我的老朋友，要是你以为我可能实行这种冷血动物的政策，你一定是神经有问题啦。”这一次，我必须承认，竟一反往常，有力的论据都在阿尔贝这一边。 
“好吧，”弗兰兹叹了一口气说道，“你随便吧，我亲爱的子爵，因为我无力反驳你的论据，但无论如何，这位基督山伯爵总是一个怪人。” 
“他是一个博爱主义者，”对方答道，“他访问巴黎的动机无疑是要去争取蒙松奖章。假如我有投票权而且能左右选举的话，我一定投他一票，并答应替他活动其他的选票。现在，亲爱的弗兰兹，我们来谈些别的吧。来，我们先吃了午餐，然后到圣·彼得教堂去做最后一次的访问好不好？”弗兰兹默默地点头答应了；第二天下午五点半，两个青年分手了。阿尔贝·马尔塞夫回巴黎，而弗兰兹·伊皮奈则到威尼斯去，准备到那儿去住两个星期。但阿尔贝在钻进他的旅行马车之前，由于怕那位客人忘记了他的约定，又递了一张名片给旅馆的侍从，托他转交给基督山伯爵，在那张名片上，他在阿尔贝·马尔塞夫的名字底下用铅笔写着：“五月二十一日上午十时半，海尔达路二十七号。” 　
Chapter 39 The Guests
 IN THE HOUSE in the Rue du Helder, where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo, everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court, and directly opposite another building, in which were the servants' apartments. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street; three other windows looked into the court, and two at the back into the garden. Between the court and the garden, built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture, was the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel, surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers, and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron, which served as the carriage entrance. A small door, close to the lodge of the concièrge, gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot. 
It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother, unwilling to part from her son, and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his liberty, had chosen this habitation for Albert. There were not lacking, however, evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent, careless life of an only son, and who lives as it were in a gilded cage. By means of the two windows looking into the street, Albert could see all that passed; the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men, who always want to see the world traverse their horizon, even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. Then, should anything appear to merit a more minute examination, Albert de Morcerf could follow up his researches by means of a small gate, similar to that close to the concièrge's door, and which merits a particular description. It was a little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house was built, so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt; but the well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. This door was a mockery to the concièrge, from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was free, and, like that famous portal in the Arabian Nights, opening at the "Sesame" of Ali Baba, it was wont to swing backward at a cabalistic word or a concerted tap from without from the sweetest voices or whitest fingers in the world. At the end of a long corridor, with which the door communicated, and which formed the ante-chamber, was, on the right, Albert's breakfast-room, looking into the court, and on the left the salon, looking into the garden. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows, and hid from the garden and court these two apartments, the only rooms into which, as they were on the ground-floor, the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. On the floor above were similar rooms, with the addition of a third, formed out of the ante-chamber; these three rooms were a salon, a boudoir, and a bedroom. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan, for the use of smokers. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase; it was evident that every precaution had been taken. Above this floor was a large atelier, which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions--a pandemonium, in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. There were collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices, hunting-horns, bass-viols, flutes--a whole orchestra, for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music; easels, palettes, brushes, pencils--for music had been succeeded by painting; foils, boxing-gloves, broadswords, and single-sticks--for, following the example of the fashionable young men of the time, Albert de Morcerf cultivated, with far more perseverance than music and drawing, the three arts that complete a dandy's education, i.e., fencing, boxing, and single-stick; and it was here that he received Grisier, Cook, and Charles Leboucher. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets, filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases, Lucca della Robbia faience, and Palissy platters; of old arm-chairs, in which perhaps had sat Henry IV or Sully, Louis XIII or Richelieu--for two of these arm-chairs, adorned with a carved shield, on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre, or, at least, some royal residence. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs, dyed beneath Persia's sun, or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. What these stuffs did there, it was impossible to say; they awaited, while gratifying the eyes, a destination unknown to their owner himself; in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood, but holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity, and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs-d'oeuvre of Beethoven, Weber, Mozart, Haydn, Gretry, and Porpora. On the walls, over the doors, on the ceiling, were swords, daggers, Malay creeses, maces, battle-axes; gilded, damasked, and inlaid suits of armor; dried plants, minerals, and stuffed birds, their flame-colored wings outspread in motionless flight, and their beaks forever open. This was Albert's favorite lounging place. 
However, the morning of the appointment, the young man had established himself in the small salon down-stairs. There, on a table, surrounded at some distance by a large and luxurious divan, every species of tobacco known,--from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai, and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto-Rico, to Latakia,--was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond; beside them, in boxes of fragrant wood, were ranged, according to their size and quality, pueros, regalias, havanas, and manillas; and, in an open cabinet, a collection of German pipes, of chibouques, with their amber mouth-pieces ornamented with coral, and of narghiles, with their long tubes of morocco, awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the smokers. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement, or, rather, the symmetrical derangement, which, after coffee, the guests at a breakfast of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their mouths, and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling. At a quarter to ten, a valet entered; he composed, with a little groom named John, and who only spoke English, all Albert's establishment, although the cook of the hotel was always at his service, and on great occasions the count's chasseur also. This valet, whose name was Germain, and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master, held in one hand a number of papers, and in the other a packet of letters, which he gave to Albert. Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives, selected two written in a small and delicate hand, and enclosed in scented envelopes, opened them and perused their contents with some attention. "How did these letters come?" said he. 
"One by the post, Madame Danglars' footman left the other." 
"Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her box. Wait; then, during the day, tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes. Take her six bottles of different wine--Cyprus, sherry, and Malaga, and a barrel of Ostend oysters; get them at Borel's, and be sure you say they are for me." 
"At what o'clock, sir, do you breakfast?" 
"What time is it now?" 
"A quarter to ten." 
"Very well, at half past ten. Debray will, perhaps, be obliged to go to the minister--and besides" (Albert looked at his tablets), "it is the hour I told the count, 21st May, at half past ten; and though I do not much rely upon his promise, I wish to be punctual. Is the countess up yet?" 
"If you wish, I will inquire." 
"Yes, ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets, mine is incomplete; and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock, and that I request permission to introduce some one to her." The valet left the room. Albert threw himself on the divan, tore off the cover of two or three of the papers, looked at the theatre announcements, made a face seeing they gave an opera, and not a ballet; hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard, and threw down, one after the other, the three leading papers of Paris, muttering, "These papers become more and more stupid every day." A moment after, a carriage stopped before the door, and the servant announced M. Lucien Debray. A tall young man, with light hair, clear gray eyes, and thin and compressed lips, dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons, a white neckcloth, and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a silken thread, and which, by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles, he fixed in his eye, entered, with a half-official air, without smiling or speaking. "Good-morning, Lucien, good-morning," said Albert; "your punctuality really alarms me. What do I say? punctuality! You, whom I expected last, you arrive at five minutes to ten, when the time fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?" 
"No, my dear fellow," returned the young man, seating himself on the divan; "reassure yourself; we are tottering always, but we never fall, and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility, and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us." 
"Ah, true; you drive Don Carlos out of Spain." 
"No, no, my dear fellow, do not confound our plans. We take him to the other side of the French frontier, and offer him hospitality at Bourges." 
"At Bourges?" 
"Yes, he has not much to complain of; Bourges is the capital of Charles VII. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday, and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse, and M. Danglars (I do not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do) made a million!" 
"And you another order, for I see you have a blue ribbon at your button-hole." 
"Yes; they sent me the order of Charles III.," returned Debray, carelessly. 
"Come, do not affect indifference, but confess you were pleased to have it." 
"Oh, it is very well as a finish to the toilet. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up." 
"And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt." 
"It is for that reason you see me so early." 
"Because you have the order of Charles III., and you wish to announce the good news to me?" 
"No, because I passed the night writing letters,--five and twenty despatches. I returned home at daybreak, and strove to sleep; but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. At the Bois de Boulogne, ennui and hunger attacked me at once,--two enemies who rarely accompany each other, and who are yet leagued against me, a sort of Carlo-republican alliance. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning, and here I am. I am hungry, feed me; I am bored, amuse me." 
"It is my duty as your host," returned Albert, ringing the bell, while Lucien turned over, with his gold-mounted cane, the papers that lay on the table. "Germain, a glass of sherry and a biscuit. In the meantime. my dear Lucien, here are cigars--contraband, of course--try them, and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves." 
"Peste, I will do nothing of the kind; the moment they come from government you would find them execrable. Besides, that does not concern the home but the financial department. Address yourself to M. Humann, section of the indirect contributions, corridor A., No. 26." 
"On my word," said Albert, "you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge. Take a cigar." 
"Really, my dear Albert," replied Lucien, lighting a manilla at a rose-colored taper that burnt in a be beautifully enamelled stand--"how happy you are to have nothing to do. You do not know your own good fortune!" 
"And what would you do, my dear diplomatist," replied Morcerf, with a slight degree of irony in his voice, "if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister, plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues; having kings, and, better still, queens, to protect, parties to unite, elections to direct; making more use of your cabinet with your pen and your telegraph than Napoleon did of his battle-fields with his sword and his victories; possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year, besides your place; a horse, for which Chateau-Renaud offered you four hundred louis, and which you would not part with; a tailor who never disappoints you; with the opera, the jockey-club, and other diversions, can you not amuse yourself? Well, I will amuse you." 
"How?" 
"By introducing to you a new acquaintance." 
"A man or a woman?" 
"A man." 
"I know so many men already." 
"But you do not know this man." 
"Where does he come from--the end of the world?" 
"Farther still, perhaps." 
"The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him." 
"Oh, no; our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. Are you hungry?" 
"Humiliating as such a confession is, I am. But I dined at M. de Villefort's, and lawyers always give you very bad dinners. You would think they felt some remorse; did you ever remark that?" 
"Ah, depreciate other persons' dinners; you ministers give such splendid ones." 
"Yes; but we do not invite people of fashion. If we were not forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with us, we should never dream of dining at home, I assure you." 
"Well, take another glass of sherry and another biscuit." 
"Willingly. Your Spanish wine is excellent. You see we were quite right to pacify that country." 
"Yes; but Don Carlos?" 
"Well, Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux, and in ten years we will marry his son to the little queen." 
"You will then obtain the Golden Fleece, if you are still in the ministry." 
"I think, Albert, you have adopted the system of feeding me on smoke this morning." 
"Well, you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach; but I hear Beauchamp in the next room; you can dispute together, and that will pass away the time." 
"About what?" 
"About the papers." 
"My dear friend," said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt, "do I ever read the papers?" 
"Then you will dispute the more." 
"M. Beauchamp," announced the servant. "Come in, come in," said Albert, rising and advancing to meet the young man. "Here is Debray, who detests you without reading you, so he says." 
"He is quite right," returned Beauchamp; "for I criticise him without knowing what he does. Good-day, commander!" 
"Ah, you know that already," said the private secretary, smiling and shaking hands with him. 
"Pardieu?" 
"And what do they say of it in the world?" 
"In which world? we have so many worlds in the year of grace 1838." 
"In the entire political world, of which you are one of the leaders." 
"They say that it is quite fair, and that sowing so much red, you ought to reap a little blue." 
"Come, come, that is not bad!" said Lucien. "Why do you not join our party, my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you would make your fortune in three or four years." 
"I only await one thing before following your advice; that is, a minister who will hold office for six months. My dear Albert, one word, for I must give poor Lucien a respite. Do we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber, for our life is not an idle one." 
"You only breakfast; I await two persons, and the instant they arrive we shall sit down to table."  
五月二十一日早晨，在海尔达那座阿尔贝邀请基督山伯爵光临的大厦里，一切都已准备好了，以便为这个青年的邀请增光。阿尔贝·马尔塞夫所住的那座楼房位于一个大庭园的一角，正对面另有一座建筑物，那是仆人们住的地方。那座楼房只有两扇窗朝街，三扇窗朝着前庭院，背后的两扇窗朝着花园。在前庭院和花园之间，有一座宫殿式的大建筑物，那就是马尔塞夫伯爵夫妇富丽堂皇的住宅。一圈高墙环绕着整座大厦，墙头上间隔地排列着开满花的花盆，中央开着一座镀金的大铁门，这是马车的入口。门房左近有一扇小门，那是供仆人或步行出入的主人用的。 
从选择这座房屋归阿尔贝居住这一点上，很容易看出一个母亲对儿子是多么的体贴入微，同时还可以看出她既不愿儿子离开她，但也明白他很需要有自己自由的空间，当然我们也必须承认，另有一部分原因是出于这青年本人的聪明自负，情愿过一种自由而怠惰的生活。透过朝街的这两个窗子，阿尔贝可以看到经过的一切。街上形形色色的景象，青年人是非看不可的，他们总是希望地平线能在他们的面前旋转，那样就可以坐观世界上的各种景色，即使那个地平线只是街道也好。如果碰到出现了什么值得他仔细考察的事，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫就会从一扇小门里出去，去从事他的研究工作。那扇小门和门房左边靠近的那扇门相同，有必要详细描写一番。它是一个小入口，门上灰尘满布，象是自从房屋建成以来，从来不曾用过似的，但那油膏涂满的合叶和锁却显示出它常常要被派上神秘的用途。这扇门向门房嘲笑，因为虽有门房警卫，它却逃过了他的管辖；开门的方法，象《一千零一夜》里的阿里巴巴喊一声“芝麻开门”一样，只要由世界上最甜蜜的声音说一个魔字，或由世界上最白嫩的手叩一个暗号就得了。这扇门和一条长廊的尽头相通，长廊也就是候见室，它的右面是朝向前庭的餐室，左面是朝向花园的客厅。灌木和爬墙类植物覆盖住了这两个房间的窗子，从花园或前庭望过来，看不清房间里的情形。 
这两个房间，是那些好奇的眼睛能从楼下窥视到的惟一的房间。楼上的房间和楼下的是对称的，只在候见室那个地位多出了一间；这三个房间是一间客厅，一间密室，一间卧室。楼下的那间客厅是一种阿尔及尔式的吸烟室，是备抽烟者用的。楼上的那间密室和卧室之间有一个暗门相通，暗门就在楼梯口，由此可见布置的是很周密的。在这一层楼上，有一间宽大的艺术工作室，由于是一个统间，中间无隔栏，所以面积显得非常大，这可以说是一间群芳楼，在这里，艺术家和花花公子们互相争雄。这儿堆积着阿尔贝随兴陆续收集来的各种东西：号角，低音四弦琴，大大小小的笛子和一整套管弦乐队的乐器，因为阿尔贝曾对乐队有过某种狂想（不是嗜好），此外还有画架，调色板，画笔，铅笔。因为他在音乐的狂想以后，又对绘画产生了一阵兴趣；还有衬胸软垫，拳击用的手套，阔剑和练习击剑时用的木棍。因为，象当时那些时代的青年一样，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫除了音乐和绘画以外，还以坚忍得多的精神学习了三门武艺，以完成一个花花公子的所受教育，那三门武艺是击剑，拳击和斗棍；就在这个房间里，他接待了格里塞，考克和却尔斯·勒布歇。在这个倍受宠幸的房间里，还有别的家具，其中包括法兰西一世时代的旧柜子，里面摆满了中国和日本的花瓶，卢加或罗比亚的陶器，巴立赛的餐碟；此外还有古色古香的圈椅，大概是亨利四世或萨立公爵，路易十三或红衣主教黎赛留曾坐过的，因为在两三张圈椅上，都雕刻着一个盾牌，盾牌是淡青色的，上面雕有百合花花纹的法国国徽，显然是卢浮宫的藏物，至少也是皇亲国戚府里的东西。在这些黯黑的椅子上，乱堆着许多华丽的绫罗绸缎，是在波斯的太阳光底下染成的或由加尔各答和昌德纳戈尔女人的手织成的。这些织物究竟是什么东西却很难说。它们在等着被派上用场，以便使看了赏心悦目，但究竟作什么用，连它们的主人也不知道。房子的中央，有一架花梨木的钢琴，体积虽小，但在它那狭小而响亮的琴腔里，却包含着整个管弦乐队，它正在贝多芬，韦伯，莫扎特，海顿，格雷特里和波尔拉的杰伯的重压之下呻吟着。在墙上，门上，天花板上，挂着宝剑，匕首，马来人的短剑，长锤，战斧，镀金嵌银的盔甲，枯萎的植物，矿石标本，以及肚子里塞满草、正展开火红的翅膀、嘴巴永远闭不拢的鸟。这就是阿尔贝心爱的起居室。 
但是，在约定见面的那一天，这个青年人却坐在楼下的小客厅里。房间中央有一张桌子，四周是一圈宽大豪华的靠背长椅，桌子上放着各种著名的烟草，马里兰的，波多黎哥的，拉塔基亚的，总之，从彼得堡的黄烟草到西奈半岛的黑烟草无不具备，都装在荷兰人最喜欢的那种表面有裂纹的瓦罐里。在这些瓦罐旁边，有一排香木盒子，这些盒子，按里面所装的雪茄的大小和品质，依次排列着的是蒲鲁斯雪茄，古巴雪茄，哈瓦那雪茄和马尼拉雪茄；在一只打开着的碗柜里，放着一套德国烟斗，有的是旱烟斗，烟斗是镶珊瑚的琥珀制的，有的是水烟斗，带有很长的皮管子，吸烟者可任意选用。这种顺序是阿尔贝亲自安排的，也可以说是存心要乱顺序，因为当时不象现代，宾客们在早餐席上有过咖啡以后，都朝着天花板吞云吐雾的。差一刻十点时，一个仆人走了进来。他和一个名叫约翰的只会讲英语的马夫，是阿尔贝的全部侍从，当然府里的厨子是永远为他服务的，遇到大场面，还可以借用一下伯爵的武装侍从。这个仆人名叫杰曼，他深得他这位青年主人的信任，他一手拿着几份报纸，一手拿着一叠信，先把信交给了阿尔贝。阿尔贝对这些来自不同地方的信札漫不经心地瞟了一眼，挑出了两封笔迹妩媚，洒过香水的信，拆开信封，用心仔细地看了一遍信的内容。“这两封信是怎么送来的！” 
“一封是邮差送来的，一封是腾格拉尔夫人的听差送来的。” 
“回报腾格拉尔夫人，说我接受她在她的包厢里给我留的那个位置。等一等，今天抽空去告诉露茜一声，说我离开戏院以后就应邀到她那儿去吃晚餐。给她带六瓶酒去，要花色不同的，塞浦路斯酒，白葡萄酒，马拉加酒，再带一些奥斯坦德牡蛎去。牡蛎要到鲍莱尔的店里去买，可别忘了说是我买的。” 
“少爷什么时候用早餐？” 
“现在是几点了？” 
“差一刻十点。” 
“好极了，到十点半吃吧。德布雷或许不得不去办公”阿尔贝看了看他怀中的记事册，“这是我和伯爵约定的时间，即五月二十一日十点半，虽然我并不十分肯定他一定能守约，但我还是希望他能按时到达。伯爵夫人起来了没有？” 
“要是子爵少爷想知道，我可以去问一问。” 
“是的，向她要一箱开胃酒来，我那一箱已经不多了。告诉她，我想在三点钟左右去看她，并请她允许我介绍一个人见她。” 
跟班的退出了房间。阿尔贝往长椅上一靠，翻了几张纸的前面几页，然后仔细读了一下戏目，当他看到上演的是一个正歌剧而不是歌舞剧的时候，就做了个鬼脸，他想在广告栏中找到一种新出的牙粉，这是他听别人谈到过的，但却没能找到，于是，他把巴黎的三大流行报纸一份接一份地甩开，自言自语地说道：“这些报纸真是一天比一天地乏味。”过了一会儿，一辆马车在门前停了下来，仆人通报吕西安·德布雷先生到。来者是一个身材高大的青年，浅色的头发，明亮的灰色眼睛，紧绷着的薄嘴唇，穿着一件蓝色的上装，上装上钉着雕刻得很美很精致的金纽扣，脖子上围着一条白围巾，胸前用一条丝带挂着一只玳瑁边的单片眼境，他进来的时候，随着眼神经和颧骨神经的一齐用力，把那只单片眼镜架到了眼睛上，脸上带着半官方的神气，既不笑，也不说话。 
“早上好，吕西安！早上好！”阿尔贝说道，“你这样守时真太令我吃惊了。我说什么来着，守时！你，我最没想到会来的人，竟会在差五分十点的时候到来，而所定的时间是十点半！真是怪事！部长倒台了吗？” 
“不，我最最亲爱的，”那青年一边回答，一边在靠背长椅上坐了下来，“你放心吧。我们虽然总是不稳定，但我们决不会倒台的；我开始相信：我们大概可以舒舒服服地进入一种不变状态了，何况又发生了那件会极大地巩固我们的地位的半岛事件。” 
“啊，不错！你们把卡罗斯先生赶出西班牙了！” 
“不，不，我最亲爱的人，别误会我们的计划。我们把他带到了法国的边镜，请他在布尔日享清福呢。” 
“布尔日？” 
“是的，他实在没什么可抱怨的了，布尔日是查理王世时的首府。什么！你不知道那件事吗？全巴黎的人昨天都知道啦，交易所在前天就已得到了风声，腾格拉尔先生投机做空头，我不知道他是用什么方法象我们一样快地得到消息的，总之他赚了一百万呢！” 
“那么你显然又赚了一个勋章，因为我看到你的纽孔上有一条蓝缎带。” 
“是的，他们给了我一个查理三世的勋章。”德布雷漫不经心地回答说。 
“喂，别假装毫不在乎了，坦白承认你心里一定高兴得很吧。” 
“噢，拿它来作装饰品倒满不错的。配上密扣子的黑衣服，看来倒非常清爽悦目。” 
“简直可以使你象加勒亲王或立斯达德大公了。” 
“就是为了这个原因，你才会这么早看见我。” 
“这么说正是因为你得了查理三世勋章，所以才来向我报告这个好消息的吗？” 
“不，是因为我整夜都在写信，总共写二十五封快信。我到天亮才回家，我拼命想睡觉，但头痛的很，于是我起来骑了一个钟头的马。跑到布洛涅大道时，疲倦和饥饿同时向我发起了进攻。要知道这两个敌人可是很少在一起的，可是它们竟联合起来进攻我，简直就象卡罗斯跟共和派订了联盟似的。于是我想起了你今天早晨请吃早餐的事，所以我就来了。我饿极了，给点东西吃吧。我也疲倦极了想法让我兴奋起来吧。” 
“这是我做主人的责任，”阿尔贝一边回答一边拉铃，而吕西安则用他的金头手杖翻动着那些躺在桌子上的报纸。“杰曼，拿一杯白葡萄酒和一块饼干来。现在，我亲爱的吕西安，这儿有雪茄烟，当然是违禁品喽，试试看，能否劝劝部长，请他答应卖这种货给我们吧，别再拿椰果叶来毒害我们了。” 
“呸！这种事我可不干，只要是政府运来的东西，总是要挨你骂的。而且，那也不关内政部的事，是财政部的事。你自己去跟荷曼先生说吧，他在间接税管理区，第一弄二十六号房间。” 
“说真的！”阿尔贝说道，“你的交际之广，实在令我吃惊。抽一支雪茄哪。”—“真的，我亲爱的子爵，”吕西安一边回答，一边凑近一只涂着五彩瓷釉的烛台，在一支玫瑰色的小蜡烛上点燃了一支马尼拉雪茄，“象你这样整天在无所事事多快乐，你还不知道你自己是多么有福气啊！” 
“要是你也什么事都不做，我亲爱的保国大臣，”阿尔贝用一种略带讥讽的口吻答道，“那可怎么得了呀？嘿！一位部长的私人秘书，即要过问欧洲的纵横捭阖，又要参与巴黎的阴谋；要保护国王，而更妙的是保护王后；要联络各党派，又要操纵选举；你在你的办公室里用笔和急报所取得的业绩，比拿破仑在战场上用他的剑和他的大小胜仗所取得的更多。除了你的薪俸之外，每年还有二万五千里弗的收入，有一匹夏多·勒诺出四百路易你都不肯卖的马，有一个永远不使你失望的裁缝，你可以自由出入戏院、骑士俱乐部和游戏场，这一切，还不够使你高兴吗？好，我来使你高兴一下吧。” 
“怎么个高兴法？” 
“给你介绍一位新朋友。” 
“是男的还是女的？” 
“男的。” 
“我认识的男人已经够多的啦。” 
“但你不认识这个男人。” 
“他从哪儿来的，世界的尽头吗？” 
“或许更远。” 
“见鬼！我希望我们的早餐该不是托他带来的吧。” 
“噢，不，我们的早餐正在大厨房里烧着呢。你饿了吗？” 
“啊！承认这种事脸上可不好受，但我的确饿极了。我昨晚是在维尔福先生那儿吃的晚餐，而法律界的人请吃饭菜总是糟糕透了的。他们象是舍不得似的，你有没有注意到这一点？” 
“啊！瞧不起旁人的饭菜哪，你们部长大人们吃的公家饭菜很不坏呀。” 
“是的，我们不请时髦人物吃饭，但我们却不得不招待一群乡巴佬，因为他们的立场和我们的一致，并且投我们的票，要不然，我向你保证，我们是决不会在家里吃饭的。” 
“好吧，再喝一杯白葡萄酒，再来一块饼干吧” 
“很愿意。你的西班牙酒味道好极了，你瞧，我们平定那个国家是很对的。” 
“是的，只苦了卡罗斯先生。” 
“嘿，卡罗斯先生可以喝波尔多酒，再过十年，我们可以使他的儿子和那位小女王结婚。” 
“那时，如果你还在部里的话你就可以得到‘金羊毛勋章’了。” 
“我想，阿尔贝，你今天早晨是想用烟来喂饱我是不是？” 
“啊，你得承认这可是最好的开胃品，我听到波尚已经到隔壁房间啦。你们可以辩论一场，那就把时间消磨过去了。” 
“辩论什么？” 
“辩论报纸呀。” 
“我的好朋友，”吕西安带着一种极其轻蔑的神气说道，“你见我看过报吗？” 
“那么你们会辩论得更厉害。” 
“波尚先生到。”仆人通报说。 
“进来，进来！”阿尔贝一边说着，一边站起身来向那个青年迎上去。“德布雷也在这儿，他也不先读读你的文章就诋毁你，这可是他自己说的。” 
“他说得很对，”波尚答道，“因为我在批评他的时候也并不知道他在干什么。早上好，司令！” 
“啊！你已经知道那件事啦。”那位私人秘书一边说，一边微笑着和他握手。 
“当然啦！” 
“他们外界怎么说？” 
“什么‘外界’？一八三八这么个好年头，我们的‘外界’又这么多。” 
“就是你领导的政论界呀。” 
“他们说这件事很公平，说你如果撒下了这么多红花的种子，一定会收获到几朵蓝色的花。” 
“妙，妙！这句话说得不坏！”吕西安说。“你为什么不来加入我们的党呢，我亲爱的波尚？凭你的天才，三四年之内你就可以飞黄腾达的。” 
“我只等一件事出现以后就可以遵从你的忠告，那就是，等出现一位能连任六个月的部长。我亲爱的阿尔贝，请允许我说一句话，因为我必须使可怜的吕西安有一个喘息的机会。我们是吃早餐还是吃午餐？我必须到众议院去一下，因为我的生活可不悠闲。” 
“我们只吃早餐。我在等两个人，他们一到，我们就立刻入席。” 
“你在等两个什么样的人来吃早餐？”波尚问道。 
“一位绅士，一位外交家。” 
“那么我们得花两个钟头来等那位绅士，三个钟头来等那位外交家了。我回来吃剩饭吧，给我留一点杨梅，咖啡和雪茄。我还要带一块肉排去，一路吃着上众议院。” 
“别干那种事，因为即使那位绅士是蒙特马伦赛，那位外交家是梅特涅，我们等到十一点也会吃上早餐的。目前，暂且请你学学德布雷的样子，来一杯白葡萄洒和一块饼干吧。” 
“就这么办吧，我等着就是了。我一定得做些什么来分散我的思想。” 
“你象德布雷一样，但据我看来，当部长垂头丧气的时候，反对派应该高兴才是呀。” 
“啊，你不知道我所受的威胁。今天早晨我得到众议院去听腾格拉尔先生的一篇演说。今天晚上，又得听他太太讲一个法国贵族的悲剧。去他妈的，这种君主立宪政府！正如他们所说的，既然我们有权选择，我们怎么会选中了那种东西？” 
“我懂啦，那么你的笑料一定不少了。” 
“别诋毁腾格拉尔先生的演讲，”德布雷说，“他们投你们的票的，因为他也属于反对派的。” 
“一点不错！而最最糟糕的就在这一点。我等着你们派他到卢森堡去演讲，我好痛痛快快地嘲笑他一场。” 
“我亲爱的朋友，”阿尔贝对波尚说，“看来西班牙事件显然是决定的了，因为你今天早晨的脾气实在不妙。请别忘了，在巴黎人的闲谈里，曾提到我和瓦朗蒂娜·腾格拉尔小姐的婚事，所以我从良心上不能让你诋毁这个人的演讲，因为有一天，这个人会对我说，‘子爵阁下，您知道，我给了我的女儿两百万呢。’” 
“啊，这桩婚姻是不会实现的，”波尚说道。“国王封了他为男爵，他可以使他成为一个贵族，但无法使他成为一位绅士，而马尔塞夫伯爵的贵族派头太大了，决不会为了那两百万而俯就一次门户不当的联姻的。马尔塞夫子爵只能娶一位侯爵小姐。” 
“两百万哪！这是一笔很可观的数目呢！”马尔塞夫答道。 
“这笔钱够在林荫大道开一家戏院，或建筑一条从植物园到拉比的铁路了。” 
“别把他的话放在心上，马尔塞夫，”德布雷说，“你只管和她结婚。不错，你等于娶了一只钱袋，但那又有什么关系？情愿少要几个纹章多弄几个钱。你的武器上有七只燕子。给了你太太三只，你还有四只，那比基斯先生已经多一只了。而基斯先生的表兄是德国皇帝，他自己也几乎做了法国的国王。” 
“老实说，我觉得你说得很对，吕西安。”阿尔贝茫然地说道。 
“当然啦，每个百万富翁都象一个私生子一样的高贵，就是说，他们能够高贵得象私生子。” 
“别再说了，德布雷，”波尚大笑着回答说，“夏多·勒诺来了，他，为了医好你这种怪僻的谬论，会用他祖宗勒诺·蒙脱邦的宝剑刺穿你的身体的。” 
“那样，他会玷污那把宝剑的，”吕西安答道，“因为我卑贱，非常卑贱。” 
“噢，天哪！”波尚大声叫道，“部长大人唱起贝朗瑞来啦，天啊，我们往哪儿走了呀？” 
“夏多·勒诺先生到！玛西米·莫雷尔先生到！”仆人通报了两位新来的客人。 
“好了，现在可以吃早餐了，”波尚说，“因为我好象记得，阿尔贝，你告诉我你只等两个人。” 
“莫雷尔！”阿尔贝自言自语地说道，“莫雷尔！他是谁呀？” 
他的话还没有说完，夏多·勒诺先生，一个年约三十岁左右，满身上下一派绅士气的漂亮青年，也就是说，他既古契一样的身材，又有蒙德玛一样的智慧，已上来握住了阿尔贝的手。“我亲爱的阿尔贝，”他说，请让我给你介绍玛西梅朗·莫雷尔先生，驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵上尉，他是我的朋友，而且还是我的救命恩人。请向我的英雄致敬吧，子爵。”说着他向旁边让开了一步，一位宽额头，两眼锐利，胡须漆黑，纯良高贵的青年出现了。这位青年，读者已在马赛见过他了，当时的情形很富于戏剧他，想必还不会忘记吧。一套半似法国式，半似东方式的华丽的制服充分表现出了他那宽阔的胸部和健壮的身材，胸前挂着荣誉团军官的勋章。这位青年军官以安闲优雅，彬彬有礼的态度鞠了一躬。 
“阁下，”阿尔贝殷勤诚挚地说，“夏多·勒诺伯爵阁下知道这次介绍使我多么愉快，您是他的朋友，希望也能成为我们的朋友。” 
“说得好！”夏多·勒诺插嘴说道，“希望必要的时候，他也能为你尽力，就象为我尽力一样。” 
“他为你尽了什么力？”阿尔贝问道。 
“噢！不值一提，”莫雷尔说道，“夏公·勒诺先生把事情夸大了。” 
“不值一提！”夏多·诺大声说道，“性命悠关的事都不值一提！老实说，莫雷尔，那未免太旷达啦。在你或许是不值一提的，因你每天都冒着生命的危险，但在我，我却只有这么一次” 
“我明白了，伯爵，显然是莫雷尔上尉阁下救了你的命。” 
“正是如此。” 
“究竟是怎么回事？”波尚问道。 
“波尚，我亲爱的，你知道我都快要饿死啦，”德布雷说道，“别再引他讲长篇大论的故事了好吧。” 
“好的，我并不阻止你们入席，”波尚答道，“我们一边吃早餐，一边听夏多·勒诺讲好了。” 
马尔塞夫说：“诸位，现在才十点一刻，我另外还等一个人。” 
“啊，不错！一位外交家！”德布雷说。 
“我也不知道他究竟是不是，我只知道要是我托他办一件事，他一定会给我办得十分满意的，所以假如我是国王，我就会立刻封他以最高的爵位，把我所有的勋章都赐给他，假如我办得到的话，连金羊毛勋章和茄泰勋章都给他。” 
“好吧，既然我们还不能入席，”德布雷说，“就喝一杯白葡萄洒，把这件事原原本本地告诉我们吧。” 
“你们都知道我以前曾幻想着要到非洲去。” 
“这是你的祖先早就为你策划好了的一条路。”阿尔贝恭维道。 
“是的，但我怀疑你的目标是否象他们一样，是去救圣墓。” 
“你说得很对，波尚，”那贵族青年说道。“我去打仗只是客串性的。自从那次我选来劝架的两个陪证人强迫我打伤了我最要好的一位朋友的膀子以后，我就不忍心再同人决斗了。我那位最好的朋友你们也都认识，就是可怜的弗兰兹·伊皮奈。” 
“啊，不错，”德布雷说。“你们以前决斗过一次，是为了什么？” 
“天诛地灭，要是我还记得当时为了什么的话！”夏多·勒诺答道。“但有一件事我记得十分清楚，就是由于不甘心让我的这种天赋湮没，我很想在阿拉伯人身上去试试我新得的手枪。结果我便乘船到奥兰，又从那儿到君士坦丁堡，一到那儿，碰巧赶上看到解围。我就跟着众人一同撤退。整整四十八个小时，白天淋雨，晚上受冻，而我居然挺了过来，但第三天早晨，我那匹马冻死了。可怜的东西！在马厩里享受惯了被窝和火炕，那匹阿拉伯马竟发觉自己受不了阿拉伯的零下十度的寒冷啦。” 
“你原来就是为了那个原因才要买我那匹英国马，”德布雷说，“你大概以为它比较能耐寒吧。” 
“你错了，因为我已经发誓不再回非洲去了。” 
“那么你是吓坏了？”波尚问道。 
“我承认，而且我有很充分的理由，”夏多·勒诺答道。“我步行撤退，因为那匹马已经死了。六个阿拉伯人骑着马疾驰过来要砍掉我的头。我用我的双筒长枪打死了两个，又用我的手枪打死了两个，但当时我的子弹打完了，而他们却还剩两个人。一个揪住了我的头发（所以现在的头发剪得这样短，因为谁都不知道将来又会发生什么事），另外那个把土耳其长剑搁在我的脖子上，正在这时，坐在你们面前的这位先生突然攻击他们。他用手枪打死了揪住我头发的那个，用他的佩刀砍开了另外一个的颅骨。他那天本来是打算要救一个人的命的，而碰巧是我赶上了。我将来发了财，一定要向克拉格曼或玛罗乞蒂去建造一尊幸运之神像。” 
“是的，”莫雷尔带笑说道，“那天是九月五日。那是一个纪念日，家父曾在那天神奇地保全了性命，所以，在我力所能及的范围之内，每年我一定要极力做一件事来庆祝它。” 
“一件英勇之举，是不是？”夏多·勒诺插嘴说道。“总之，我是一个幸运儿，但事情不仅仅如此。在把我从刀剑下面救出来以后，他又把我从寒冷里救了出来，不是象圣马丁那样让我分享他的披风，而是把整件披风都给了我，然后又把我从饥饿中救出来，和我分享，猜是什么？” 
“一块斯特拉斯堡饼？”波尚说道。 
“不，是他的马，我们每人都很痛快地吃了一大块马肉。这是非常难得的。” 
“马肉吗？”阿尔贝大笑着说。 
“不，是那种牺牲精神，”夏多·勒诺回答，“问问德布雷，他会不会为了一个素不相识的人而牺牲他那匹英国骏马？” 
“为了一个素不相识的人，是不会的，”德布雷说，“但为一个朋友，我或许会的。” 
“我预卜到您会成我的朋友的，伯爵阁下，”莫雷尔答道，“而且，我已有幸告诉过您了，说这是英雄主义也好，是牺牲精神也好，反正那天我一定要和恶运斗争一场，来报答我们以前得到的好处。” 
“莫雷尔先生所指的这一段历史说来非常有趣，”夏多·勒诺又说，“将来你们跟他交情深了的时候，有一天他会讲给你们听的。现在让我们先来填饱肚子，别光填饱记忆力了吧。什么时候吃早餐，阿尔贝？” 
“十点半。” 
“一定了吗？”德布雷问，并掏出表来看了看。 
“噢！请你们宽限我五分钟，”马尔塞夫答道，“因为我所等的也是一位救命恩人。” 
“谁的？” 
“当然是我的呀！”马尔塞夫大声说道，“你们难道以为我就不能象别人一样得救，而只有阿拉伯人会杀人砍头吗？我们的早餐是一席博爱餐，我们的席面上将有——至少，我希望如此——两位造福人类的救星。” 
“我们怎么办呢？”德布雷说，“我们的蒙松奖章却只有一个。” 
“哦，这个奖章可以赠给一个人不相干的人，”波尚说道，“法兰西学院常常用这个方法来摆脱窘境。” 
“他是从哪儿来的？”德布雷问道。“这个问题你已经回答过了一次，但回答得太含糊了，所以我大胆再问一次。” 
“老实说，”阿尔贝说道，“我也不知道，三个月前我邀请他的时候，他在罗马，从那以后，谁知道他去了哪里呢？” 
“你认为他能按时到这儿吗？”德布雷又问。 
  
“我认为他是无所不能的。” 
“好吧，连五分钟的宽限也算在里面，我们只剩十分钟了。” 
“趁这一段时间我来告诉你们一些关于我那位客人的事吧。” 
“对不起！”波尚插嘴说道，“你要讲给我们听的故事里有没有可供写文章的资料？” 
“有的，而且还可以写成一篇绝妙的文章。” 
“那么，请说吧，看来今上午我是去不成众议院了，所以我必须补偿这个损失。” 
“今年狂欢节我在罗马。” 
“那我们知道。”波尚说道。 
“是的，但你们却不知道我曾被强盗绑票过。” 
“根本没有强盗这种东西。”德布雷答道。 
“有的，有的，而且是最可怕的，或说得更正确些，是最可钦佩的强盗，因为我发觉他们好得叫人害怕。” 
“喂，我亲爱的阿尔贝，”德布雷说，“坦白承认吧，承认你的厨子来不及了，牡蛎还不曾从奥斯坦德或马伦尼斯运到，所以，象曼德侬夫人一样，你要用一篇故事来代替酒菜。赶快说吧，我们都是些有教养的人，可以原谅你的，并且可以听你的故事，虽然看来一定是荒诞无稽的。” 
“我可以对你们说，尽管看来荒诞无稽，但我对你讲的这一番话，却从头到尾都是真的。土匪把我绑了去，带我到了一个最阴森恐怖的地方，那个地方叫做圣·塞巴斯蒂安墓。” 
“那个地方我知道，”夏多·勒诺说，“我到那儿去以后，几乎发了一场热病。” 
“我比你更进了一步，”马尔塞夫答道，“因为我的的确确得了场大病。他们告诉我，我是一个俘虏了，要我拿一笔四千罗马艾居的赎金约等于两万六千里弗。不幸的是，我当时只有一千五。我的旅程和我的汇款那时都已快用完了。于是我就写信给弗兰兹——要是他在这儿，我的话他每一个字都可以证实——我写信给弗兰兹说，假如他不在六点钟以前带那四千艾居来，那么到六点十分，我就要荣幸地去加入那些尊贵的圣徒和光荣的殉道者的行列里了，因为罗吉·万帕先生——这是那个强盗头儿的名字——是极守信用的，毫不拖延的。” 
“弗兰兹带着那四千艾居来了，”夏多·勒诺说。“见鬼！一个人的名字要是叫做弗兰兹·伊皮奈或阿尔贝·马尔塞夫，是不难弄到四千艾居的。” 
“不，他只是带着我就要介绍给你们的那位客人一同来了。” 
“啊！这位先生是杀死卡科斯的赫克里斯，救出安特洛黑达的珠修斯了。” 
“不，他也是一个人，而不是神，而且身材也和我们差不多。” 
“从头到脚都武装了吗？” 
“他连一根针都没带。” 
“他代你付了赎金？？ 
  
“不，他只对那个强盗头儿说了两句话，我就自由了。” 
“而他们还要向他道歉，说不该绑你？”波尚说。 
“正是这样。” 
“噢，那他一定是一个再世的阿利身斯多啦。” 
“不，他是基督山伯爵。” 
“世界上根本没有基督山伯爵。”德布雷说。 
“我想也不见得会有，”夏多·勒诺接着说，看他的神气真象是全欧洲的贵族他都知道似的。“有谁知道关于一位基督山伯爵的什么事吗？” 
“他可能是从圣地来的，他的祖先中，或许曾有人占领过髑髅地，象蒙特玛人占领死海那样。” 
“我想，我可以对你们的研究有一点帮助，”玛西梅朗说。 
“基督山是一个小岛，我常听到家父手下的老水手们谈起那是地中海中央的一粒沙子，宇宙间的一粒原子。” 
“一点不错！”阿尔贝说道。“我说的那个人就是这粒沙，这粒原子的主人公，伯爵的衔头大概是他在托斯卡纳头来的。” 
“那么他很有钱罗？” 
“我想是的。” 
“但那应该看得出来呀。” 
“你这就上当了，德布雷。” 
“我不懂你的意思。” 
“你读过《一千零一夜》吗？” 
“问得多妙！” 
“好，假如你在《一千零一夜》里所看到的人物，要是他们的麦子不是红宝石或金刚钻，你知道他们是穷是富？他们似乎是穷苦的渔夫，但突然间，他们却打开了一个秘密窟，里面装满了东印度诸国的财宝。” 
“后来怎么样了？” 
“我那位基督山伯爵就是那种渔夫。他甚至还采用了那本书里的一个人名。他自称为水手辛巴德，而且还有一个装满了金子的山洞。” 
“你见过那个岩洞吗，马尔塞夫？”波尚问道。 
“没有，但弗兰兹见过。看在上帝的面上，可别在他的面前提这些话，弗兰兹是被绑了眼睛进去的，有哑奴和女人服侍他，和那些女人一比呀，就是埃及美女算不了什么了。只是他对于女人那一点不能十分确定，因为她们是等他吃过一点大麻以后才进来的，所以他或许把一排石像当成女人了。” 
“我也曾从一个名叫庇尼龙的老水手那儿听说过类似的事情。”莫雷尔若有所思地说道。 
“啊！”阿尔贝大声说道，“幸亏莫雷尔先生来帮我的忙，你们不高兴了吧，是不是，因为他为这个迷提供了一条线索。” 
“我亲爱的阿尔贝，”德布雷说道，“你给我们讲的这个故事太奇特了。” 
“啊！那是因为你们的大使和你们的领事没有把这种事告诉过你们。他们没有功夫呀，他们必须得折磨他们在国外旅行的同胞。” 
“瞧，你发火了，攻击起我们那些可怜的使节来了。你还要他们怎么来保护你呢？议院天天削减他们的薪水，他们现在简直可说毫无收入了。你想不想当大使，阿尔贝？我可以派你到君士坦丁堡去。” 
“不，恐怕我一表示偏袒美赫米德·阿里，苏丹就会送我上绞架，叫我的秘书来绞死我的。” 
“可不是！”德布雷说。 
“是的，但这并不妨碍基督山伯爵的存在。” 
“当然罗！每个人都是存在的。” 
“不错，但并不都以同样的方式存在，并不是每个人都有黑奴，华丽的游艇，精美的武器，阿拉伯马和希腊情妇的。” 
“你见过他那希腊情妇吗？” 
“我见到过她本人，也听到过她的声音。我是在戏院里看到了她本人的，有一天早晨我和伯爵一同吃早饭的时候听到了她的声音。” 
“那么说你那位奇人也吃东西的罗？” 
“是的，但吃得少极了，简直不能称为吃。” 
“他必定是一个僵尸。” 
“随你们去笑吧，那倒是Ｇ伯爵夫人的意见，如各位所知，她是认识罗思文勋爵的。” 
“啊，妙极了！”波尚说道。“对于一个和报纸没有关系的人来说，这就是《立宪报》上那篇关于那位大名鼎鼎的海蛇的肖像。” 
“目光锐利，瞳孔能随意收缩或放大，”德布雷说，“而且面部轮廓清晰，额头饱满，脸色惨白，胡须漆黑，牙齿白而尖利，礼貌周到，无懈可击。” 
“正是这样，吕西安。”马尔塞夫答道，“你形容得一点不差。是的，敏感而极有礼貌。这个人常常使我发抖！有一天，我们去看杀人，我觉得好象要昏过去了，但听他冷酷平静地描写各种酷刑，那简直比亲眼看到刽子手和犯人更可怕。” 
“他有没有引你到斗兽场的废墟中去吸你的血？”波尚问。 
“或是，把你救出来以后，他有没有要你在一张火红色的羊皮纸上签字，叫你把你的灵魂卖给他，象以扫出卖他的长子继承权一样？” 
“笑吧，你们尽管嘲笑吧，诸位！”马尔塞夫有点动气了。 
“我看你们这些巴黎人，你们这些在林荫大道和布洛涅树林里游手好闲的家伙们，再想想那个人，我好象觉得我们不是属于同一个种族似的。” 
“敝人不胜荣幸之至。”波尚答道。 
“同时，”夏多·勒诺又说，“你那位基督山伯爵真是一个非常好的人，只是他和意大利强盗有点交情。” 
“意大利根本没有强盗！”德布雷说。 
“世界上根本没有僵尸！波尚答道。 
“也界上根本没有基督山伯爵！”德布雷又说。“敲十点半啦，阿尔贝！” 
“承认这是你梦中的事情吧，让我们坐下来吃早餐吧。”波尚又说道。但钟声未绝，杰曼就来通报说，“基督山伯爵大人到。” 
每个人都情不自禁地吃了一惊，这证明马尔塞夫的一番叙述已给了他们很深刻的印象，连阿尔贝自己都感到突兀。他根本没听到马车在街上停下来的声音，或候见室里的脚步声，开门的时候也毫无声音。但伯爵出现了，他的穿着极其简单，但即使最会吹毛求疵的花花公子也无法从他这一身打扮上找出什么可挑剔的地方。他身上的每一件东西——帽子、上装、手套、皮靴——都是一流巧手的作品。使大家尤为惊奇的，是他极象德布雷所画的那幅画像。伯爵微笑着走进了房间，向阿尔贝走过来，阿尔贝赶紧伸手迎上去。“遵守时间，”基督山说道“是国王礼节，我好象记得你们的一位君主曾这样说过。但这却不是旅客所能办到的，不论他们心里多么希望如此。我希望你们能原谅我迟到了两三秒钟。一千五百里的路程上是免不了有些麻烦的，尤其是在法国，这个国家好象是禁止打马的。” 
“伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝答道，“我正向我的几位朋友宣布了您光临的消息，我请了他们来，以实践我对您许下的诺言，现在请允许我向您介绍一下。这几位是：夏多·勒诺伯爵阁下，出身名门，是十二贵族的后代，他的远祖曾出席过圆桌会议；吕西安·德布雷先生，内政部长的私人秘书；波尚先生，报社的编辑，法国政府害怕的人物，他虽然大名鼎鼎，但您在意大利却不曾听说过，因为他的报纸在那儿是禁止的；玛西梅朗·莫雷尔先生，驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵上尉。” 
“伯爵一一向他们点头致意，态度很客气，但同时又带有英国人那种冷淡和拘泥虚礼的气质，当听到最后这个名字，他不禁向前跨了一步，苍白的脸上现出了一片淡淡的红晕。“您穿的是法国新征服者的制服，阁下，”他说，“这是一套漂亮的制服。”谁都搞不清究竟是什么原因使伯爵的声音颤动得这样厉害，是什么原因使得他那对平静清澈的眼睛突然炯炯有神，此时他已无意掩饰自己的感情了。 
“你没见过我们这位非洲客人吧，伯爵阁下？”阿尔贝问道。 
“从没见过。”伯爵回答说，这时他已完全克制住了自己。 
“喏，在这套制服下面，跳动着的是一颗军人的最勇敢和最高贵的心。” 
“噢，马尔塞夫先生！”莫雷尔打断了他的话说道。 
“让我说下去吧，上尉！”阿尔贝继续说道，“我们刚刚才听到说了他最近的一个举动，是一次非常英勇的壮举，所以尽管我也是今天才初次见到他，我却要请您允许我把他当作我的朋友介绍。” 
“啊！您有一颗高贵的心，”伯爵说道，“那太好了。” 
  
这一声感叹与其说是在回答阿尔贝，倒不如说是在回答伯爵自己心里的念头，大家都很惊奇，尤其是莫雷尔，他惊奇地望着基督山。但由于那语气是这样的柔和，所以不论这声感叹是多么的古怪，也是不会使听者生气的。 
“咦，他为什么要怀疑这一点呢？”波尚对夏多·勒诺说。 
“的确，”后者答道，他以他那贵族的眼光和他的阅历，已把基督山身上所能看穿的一切都看穿了。“阿尔贝没有骗我们，这位伯爵的确是一个奇人。你怎么看，莫雷尔？” 
“不错！他对我说了那一句怪话，但他目光真诚，我很喜欢他。” 
“诸位先生们，”阿尔贝说道，“杰曼告诉我早餐已经准备好了。亲爱的伯爵，请允许我为您引路。” 
他们静静地走入了餐厅，大家各自就座。 
“诸位，”伯爵一边入座，一边说，“请容许我作一番自白，借此来解释一下我的任何不合习俗的举动。我是个外乡人，而生平第一次到巴黎来。对于法国人的生活方式我一点都不了解，到目前为止，我一向遵从的是东方人的习俗，而那和巴黎人的则是完全相反的。所以，要是你们发觉我有些地方太土耳其化，太意大利化，或太阿拉伯化，请你们原谅。现在，诸位，我们来用早餐吧。” 
“瞧，他说这番话的神气！”波尚低声说道，“他一定是个大人物。” 
“在他的本国可说得上是个大人物。”德布雷接上说道。 
“在世界各国都可算得上是个大人物，德布雷先生。”夏多·勒诺说。 
Chapter 40 The Breakfast
 "AND WHAT sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" said Beauchamp. 
"A gentleman, and a diplomatist." 
"Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman, and three for the diplomatist. I shall come back to dessert; keep me some strawberries, coffee, and cigars. I shall take a cutlet on my way to the Chamber." 
"Do not do anything of the sort; for were the gentleman a Montmorency, and the diplomatist a Metternich, we will breakfast at eleven; in the meantime, follow Debray's example, and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit." 
"Be it so; I will stay; I must do something to distract my thoughts." 
"You are like Debray, and yet it seems to me that when the minister is out of spirits, the opposition ought to be joyous." 
"Ah, you do not know with what I am threatened. I shall hear this morning that M. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber of Deputies, and at his wife's this evening I shall hear the tragedy of a peer of France. The devil take the constitutional government, and since we had our choice, as they say, at least, how could we choose that?" 
"I understand; you must lay in a stock of hilarity." 
"Do not run down M. Danglars' speeches," said Debray; "he votes for you, for he belongs to the opposition." 
"Pardieu! that is exactly the worst of all. I am waiting until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg, to laugh at my ease." 
"My dear friend," said Albert to Beauchamp, "it is plain that the affairs of Spain are settled, for you are most desperately out of humor this morning. Recollect that Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and Mlle. Eugénie Danglars; I cannot in conscience, therefore, let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say to me, 'Vicomte, you know I give my daughter two millions.'" 
"Ah, this marriage will never take place," said Beauchamp. "The king has made him a baron, and can make him a peer, but he cannot make him a gentleman, and the Count of Morcerf is too aristocratic to consent, for the paltry sum of two million francs, to a mésalliance. The Viscount of Morcerf can only wed a marchioness." 
"But two million francs make a nice little sum," replied Morcerf. 
"It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard, or a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapée." 
"Never mind what he says, Morcerf," said Debray, "do you marry her. You marry a money-bag label, it is true; well, but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazon less and a figure more on it. You have seven martlets on your arms; give three to your wife, and you will still have four; that is one more than M. de Guise had, who so nearly became King of France, and whose cousin was Emperor of Germany." 
"On my word, I think you are right, Lucien," said Albert absently. 
"To be sure; besides, every millionaire is as noble as a bastard--that is, he can be." 
"Do not say that, Debray," returned Beauchamp, laughing, "for here is Chateau-Renaud, who, to cure you of your mania for paradoxes, will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban, his ancestor, through your body." 
"He will sully it then," returned Lucien; "for I am low--very low." 
"Oh, heavens," cried Beauchamp, "the minister quotes Beranger, what shall we come to next?" 
"M. de Chateau-Renaud--M. Maximilian Morrel," said the servant, announcing two fresh guests. 
"Now, then, to breakfast," said Beauchamp; "for, if I remember, you told me you only expected two persons, Albert." 
"Morrel," muttered Albert--"Morrel--who is he?" But before he had finished, M. de Chateau-Renaud, a handsome young man of thirty, gentleman all over,--that is, with the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart,--took Albert's hand. "My dear Albert," said he, "let me introduce to you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, my friend; and what is more--however the man speaks for himself ---my preserver. Salute my hero, viscount." And he stepped on one side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified bearing, with large and open brow, piercing eyes, and black mustache, whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles, under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be forgotten. A rich uniform, half French, half Oriental, set off his graceful and stalwart figure, and his broad chest was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. The young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness. "Monsieur," said Albert with affectionate courtesy, "the count of Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure this introduction would give me; you are his friend, be ours also." 
"Well said," interrupted Chateau-Renaud; "and pray that, if you should ever be in a similar predicament, he may do as much for you as he did for me." 
"What has he done?" asked Albert. 
"Oh, nothing worth speaking of," said Morrel; "M. de Chateau-Renaud exaggerates." 
"Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud; "life is not worth speaking of!--that is rather too philosophical, on my word, Morrel. It is very well for you, who risk your life every day, but for me, who only did so once"-- 
"We gather from all this, baron, that Captain Morrel saved your life." 
"Exactly so." 
"On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Beauchamp, my good fellow, you know I am starving," said Debray: "do not set him off on some long story." 
"Well, I do not prevent your sitting down to table," replied Beauchamp, "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat our breakfast." 
"Gentlemen," said Morcerf, "it is only a quarter past ten, and I expect some one else." 
"Ah, true, a diplomatist!" observed Debray. 
"Diplomat or not, I don't know; I only know that he charged himself on my account with a mission, which he terminated so entirely to my satisfaction, that had I been king, I should have instantly created him knight of all my orders, even had I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter." 
"Well, since we are not to sit down to table," said Debray, "take a glass of sherry, and tell us all about it." 
"You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa." 
"It is a road your ancestors have traced for you," said Albert gallantly. 
"Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs--to rescue the Holy Sepulchre." 
"You are quite right, Beauchamp," observed the young aristocrat. "It was only to fight as an amateur. I cannot bear duelling since two seconds, whom I had chosen to arrange an affair, forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends, one whom you all know--poor Franz d'Epinay." 
"Ah, true," said Debray, "you did fight some time ago; about what?" 
"The devil take me, if I remember," returned Chateau-Renaud. "But I recollect perfectly one thing, that, being unwilling to let such talents as mine sleep, I wished to try upon the Arabs the new pistols that had been given to me. In consequence I embarked for Oran, and went from thence to Constantine, where I arrived just in time to witness the raising of the siege. I retreated with the rest, for eight and forty hours. I endured the rain during the day, and the cold during the night tolerably well, but the third morning my horse died of cold. Poor brute--accustomed to be covered up and to have a stove in the stable, the Arabian finds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia." 
"That's why you want to purchase my English horse," said Debray, "you think he will bear the cold better." 
"You are mistaken, for I have made a vow never to return to Africa." 
"You were very much frightened, then?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," replied Chateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse was dead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. I shot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with my pistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left; one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so short, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung a yataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, when this gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the one who held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the other with his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving a man's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself. When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann or Marochetti." 
"Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September, the anniversary of the day on which my father was miraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in my power, I endeavor to celebrate it by some"-- 
"Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen. But that is not all--after rescuing me from the sword, he rescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me, like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then from hunger by sharing with me--guess what?" 
"A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. 
"No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with a hearty appetite. It was very hard." 
"The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing. 
"No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray if he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" 
"Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend I might, perhaps." 
"I divined that you would become mine, count," replied Morrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism or not, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to bad fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on other days granted to us." 
"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued Chateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day let us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you breakfast, Albert?" 
"At half-past ten." 
"Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch. 
"Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf, "for I also expect a preserver." 
"Of whom?" 
"Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannot be saved as well as any one else, and that there are only Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic one, and we shall have at table--at least, I hope so--two benefactors of humanity." 
"What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyon prize." 
"Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma." 
"And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You have already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time." 
"Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited him three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time who knows where he may have gone?" 
"And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. 
"I think him capable of everything." 
"Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left." 
"I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest." 
"I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" 
"Yes, and for a most curious one." 
"Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning, and I must make up for it." 
"I was at Rome during the last Carnival." 
"We know that," said Beauchamp. 
"Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits." 
"There are no bandits," cried Debray. 
"Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me." 
"Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cook is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your history, fabulous as it promises to be." 
"And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian." 
"I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escaped catching a fever there." 
"And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caught one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4,000 Roman crowns--about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. I wrote to Franz--and were he here he would confirm every word--I wrote then to Franz that if he did not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his word." 
"But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," said Chateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them." 
"No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you." 
"Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus freeing Andromeda." 
"No, he is a man about my own size." 
"Armed to the teeth?" 
"He had not even a knitting-needle." 
"But he paid your ransom?" 
"He said two words to the chief and I was free." 
"And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" said Beauchamp. 
"Just so." 
"Why, he is a second Ariosto." 
"No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. 
"I do not think so," added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. 
"Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea." 
"I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian. "Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken of by the old sailors my father employed--a grain of sand in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the infinite." 
"Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is the lord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he has purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." 
"He is rich, then?" 
"I believe so." 
"But that ought to be visible." 
"That is what deceives you, Debray." 
"I do not understand you." 
"Have you read the Arabian Nights'?" 
"What a question!" 
"Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich or poor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open some mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies." 
"Which means?" 
"Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those fishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since he calls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled with gold." 
"And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp. 
"No, but Franz has; for heaven's sake, not a word of this before him. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded, and was waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a painted strumpet. Only he is not quite sure about the women, for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish, so that what he took for women might have been simply a row of statues." 
The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say,--"Are you mad, or are you laughing at us?" 
"And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heard something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." 
"Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comes to aid me; you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives a clew to the labyrinth?" 
"My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is so extraordinary." 
"Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell you of them--they have no time. They are too much taken up with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who travel." 
"Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will you have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries every day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you be ambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople." 
"No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of Mehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make my secretaries strangle me." 
"You say very true," responded Debray. 
"Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with the existence of the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"Pardieu! every one exists." 
"Doubtless, but not in the same way; every one has not black slaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that would do credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost six thousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses." 
"Have you seen the Greek mistress?" 
"I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre, and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the count." 
"He eats, then?" 
"Yes; but so little, it can hardly be called eating." 
"He must be a vampire." 
"Laugh, if you will; the Countess G----, who knew Lord Ruthven, declared that the count was a vampire." 
"Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected with newspapers, here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of the Constitutionnel." 
"Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates at pleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed, magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharp and white teeth, politeness unexceptionable." 
"Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf; "you have described him feature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. This man has often made me shudder; and one day that we were viewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more from hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every description of torture, than from the sight of the executioner and the culprit." 
"Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flaming parchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his birth-right?" 
"Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf, somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers on the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think of this man, it seems to me we are not of the same race." 
"I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the same time," added Chateau-Renaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo is a very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangements with the Italian banditti." 
"There are no Italian banditti," said Debray. 
"No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo" added Debray. "There is half-past ten striking, Albert." 
"Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down to breakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clock had not died away when Germain announced, "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every one gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them, and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting sudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in the street, or steps in the ante-chamber; the door had itself opened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with the greatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy could have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every article of dress--hat, coat, gloves, and boots--was from the first makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But what struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait Debray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into the centre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastened towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. "Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness of kings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think; but it is not the same with travellers. However, I hope you will excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand; five hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some trouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it is forbidden to beat the postilions." 
"My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing your visit to some of my friends, whom I had invited in consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, and whom I now present to you. They are the Count of Chateau-Renaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelve peers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table; M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of the interior; M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terror of the French government, but of whom, in spite of his national celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy, since his paper is prohibited there; and M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis." 
At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every one with courtesy, but at the same time with coldness and formality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of red colored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the new French conquerors, monsieur," said he; "it is a handsome uniform." No one could have said what caused the count's voice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash, which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when he pleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" said Albert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this time perfectly master of himself again. 
"Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and noblest hearts in the whole army." 
"Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel. 
"Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continued Albert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that, although I have seen him to-day for the first time, I request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." At these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo the concentrated look, changing color, and slight trembling of the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a noble heart," said the count; "so much the better." This exclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thought rather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody, and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo with wonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so soft that, however strange the speech might seem, it was impossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?" said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. 
"In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocratic glance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated at once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert has not deceived us, for the count is a most singular being. What say you, Morrel!" 
"Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, in spite of the singular remark he has made about me." 
"Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfast is ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." They passed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one took his place. "Gentleman," said the count, seating himself, "permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse for any improprieties I may commit. I am a stranger, and a stranger to such a degree, that this is the first time I have ever been at Paris. The French way of living is utterly unknown to me, and up to the present time I have followed the Eastern customs, which are entirely in contrast to the Parisian. I beg you, therefore, to excuse if you find anything in me too Turkish, too Italian, or too Arabian. Now, then, let us breakfast." 
"With what an air he says all this," muttered Beauchamp; "decidedly he is a great man." 
"A great man in his own country," added Debray. 
"A great man in every country, M. Debray," said Chateau-Renaud. The count was, it may be remembered, a most temperate guest. Albert remarked this, expressing his fears lest, at the outset, the Parisian mode of life should displease the traveller in the most essential point. "My dear count," said he, "I fear one thing, and that is, that the fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your taste as that of the Piazza di Spagni. I ought to have consulted you on the point, and have had some dishes prepared expressly." 
"Did you know me better," returned the count, smiling, "you would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller like myself, who has successively lived on maccaroni at Naples, polenta at Milan, olla podrida at Valencia, pilau at Constantinople, karrick in India, and swallows' nests in China. I eat everywhere, and of everything, only I eat but little; and to-day, that you reproach me with my want of appetite, is my day of appetite, for I have not eaten since yesterday morning." 
"What," cried all the guests, "you have not eaten for four and twenty hours?" 
"No," replied the count; "I was forced to go out of my road to obtain some information near N?mes, so that I was somewhat late, and therefore I did not choose to stop." 
"And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf. 
"No, I slept, as I generally do when I am weary without having the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungry without feeling inclined to eat." 
"But you can sleep when you please, monsieur?" said Morrel. 
"Yes." 
"You have a recipe for it?" 
"An infallible one." 
"That would be invaluable to us in Africa, who have not always any food to eat, and rarely anything to drink." 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "but, unfortunately, a recipe excellent for a man like myself would be very dangerous applied to an army, which might not awake when it was needed." 
"May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray. 
"Oh, yes," returned Monte Cristo; "I make no secret of it. It is a mixture of excellent opium, which I fetched myself from Canton in order to have it pure, and the best hashish which grows in the East--that is, between the Tigris and the Euphrates. These two ingredients are mixed in equal proportions, and formed into pills. Ten minutes after one is taken, the effect is produced. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay; I think he tasted them one day." 
"Yes," replied Morcerf, "he said something about it to me." 
"But," said Beauchamp, who, as became a journalist, was very incredulous, "you always carry this drug about you?" 
"Always." 
"Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious pills?" continued Beauchamp, hoping to take him at a disadvantage. 
"No, monsieur," returned the count; and he drew from his pocket a marvellous casket, formed out of a single emerald and closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passage to a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea. This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. There were four or five more in the emerald, which would contain about a dozen. The casket passed around the table, but it was more to examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills that it passed from hand to hand. "And is it your cook who prepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Oh, no, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not thus betray my enjoyments to the vulgar. I am a tolerable chemist, and prepare my pills myself." 
"This is a magnificent emerald, and the largest I have ever seen," said Chateau-Renaud, "although my mother has some remarkable family jewels." 
"I had three similar ones," returned Monte Cristo. "I gave one to the Sultan, who mounted it in his sabre; another to our holy father the Pope, who had it set in his tiara, opposite to one nearly as large, though not so fine, given by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor, Pius VII. I kept the third for myself, and I had it hollowed out, which reduced its value, but rendered it more commodious for the purpose I intended." Every one looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment; he spoke with so much simplicity that it was evident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, the sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the former belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give you in exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray. 
"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count; "the Pope, the life of a man; so that once in my life I have been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world on the steps of a throne." 
"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf; "it was for him that you obtained pardon?" 
"Perhaps," returned the count, smiling. 
"My dear count, you have no idea what pleasure it gives me to hear you speak thus," said Morcerf. "I had announced you beforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the Arabian Nights, a wizard of the Middle Ages; but the Parisians are so subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of the imagination the most incontestable truths, when these truths do not form a part of their daily existence. For example, here is Debray who reads, and Beauchamp who prints, every day, 'A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped and robbed on the Boulevard;' 'four persons have been assassinated in the Rue St. Denis' or 'the Faubourg St. Germain;' 'ten, fifteen, or twenty thieves, have been arrested in a café on the Boulevard du Temple, or in the Thermes de Julien,'--and yet these same men deny the existence of the bandits in the Maremma, the Campagna di Romana, or the Pontine Marshes. Tell them yourself that I was taken by bandits, and that without your generous intercession I should now have been sleeping in the Catacombs of St. Sebastian, instead of receiving them in my humble abode in the Rue du Helder." 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "you promised me never to mention that circumstance." 
"It was not I who made that promise," cried Morcerf; "it must have been some one else whom you have rescued in the same manner, and whom you have forgotten. Pray speak of it, for I shall not only, I trust, relate the little I do know, but also a great deal I do not know." 
"It seems to me," returned the count, smiling, "that you played a sufficiently important part to know as well as myself what happened." 
"Well, you promise me, if I tell all I know, to relate, in your turn, all that I do not know?" 
"That is but fair," replied Monte Cristo. 
"Well," said Morcerf, "for three days I believed myself the object of the attentions of a masque, whom I took for a descendant of Tullia or Poppoea, while I was simply the object of the attentions of a contadina, and I say contadina to avoid saying peasant girl. What I know is, that, like a fool, a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now, I mistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen or sixteen, with a beardless chin and slim waist, and who, just as I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips, placed a pistol to my head, and, aided by seven or eight others, led, or rather dragged me, to the Catacombs of St. Sebastian, where I found a highly educated brigand chief perusing C?sar's Commentaries, and who deigned to leave off reading to inform me, that unless the next morning, before six o'clock, four thousand piastres were paid into his account at his banker's, at a quarter past six I should have ceased to exist. The letter is still to be seen, for it is in Franz d'Epinay's possession, signed by me, and with a postscript of M. Luigi Vampa. This is all I know, but I know not, count, how you contrived to inspire so much respect in the bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respect for anything. I assure you, Franz and I were lost in admiration." 
"Nothing more simple," returned the count. "I had known the famous Vampa for more than ten years. When he was quite a child, and only a shepherd, I gave him a few gold pieces for showing me my way, and he, in order to repay me, gave me a poniard, the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand, and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. In after years, whether he had forgotten this interchange of presents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, or whether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but, on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen of his band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice, which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have been particularly so with him; but I did nothing of the sort--I suffered him and his band to depart." 
"With the condition that they should sin no more," said Beauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise." 
"No, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo "upon the simple condition that they should respect myself and my friends. Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you, who are socialists, and vaunt humanity and your duty to your neighbor, but I never seek to protect a society which does not protect me, and which I will even say, generally occupies itself about me only to injure me; and thus by giving them a low place in my esteem, and preserving a neutrality towards them, it is society and my neighbor who are indebted to me." 
"Bravo," cried Chateau-Renaud; "you are the first man I ever met sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count, bravo!" 
"It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure that the count does not regret having once deviated from the principles he has so boldly avowed." 
"How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" asked Monte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with so much intensity, that two or three times the young man had been unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance. 
"Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in delivering M. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to your neighbor and to society." 
"Of which he is the brightest ornament," said Beauchamp, drinking off a glass of champagne. 
"My dear count," cried Morcerf, "you are at fault--you, one of the most formidable logicians I know--and you must see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, you are a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, a Levantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name is Monte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal appellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians,--that is, you assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you possess." 
"My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, in all I have done, anything that merits, either from you or these gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. You were no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gave up two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lent you one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in your company, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza del Popolo the execution that affected you so much that you nearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen, could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, as you term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that you could introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I came to France. You might some time ago have looked upon this resolution as a vague project, but to-day you see it was a reality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breaking your word." 
"I will keep it," returned Morcerf; "but I fear that you will be much disappointed, accustomed as you are to picturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us you will not meet with any of those episodes with which your adventurous existence has so familiarized you; our Chimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien, our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they are now boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We have plenty of thieves, though not so many as is said; but these thieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord. France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, that you will not find in its eighty-five departments--I say eighty-five, because I do not include Corsica--you will not find, then, in these eighty-five departments a single hill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in which the commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There is but one service I can render you, and for that I place myself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or make my friends present, you everywhere; besides, you have no need of any one to introduce you--with your name, and your fortune, and your talent" (Monte Cristo bowed with a somewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourself everywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one way only--if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means of rendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, can assist, you may depend upon me to find you a fitting dwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartments with you, as I shared yours at Rome--I, who do not profess egotism, but am yet egotist par excellence; for, except myself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unless that shadow were feminine." 
"Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation; I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected marriage. May I congratulate you?" 
"The affair is still in projection." 
"And he who says in 'projection,' means already decided," said Debray. 
"No," replied Morcerf, "my father is most anxious about it; and I hope, ere long, to introduce you, if not to my wife, at least to my betrothed--Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars." 
"Eugénie Danglars," said Monte Cristo; "tell me, is not her father Baron Danglars?" 
"Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation." 
"What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered the State services which merit this distinction?" 
"Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality a Liberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for Charles X., in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of the Legion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as you would think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at his button-hole." 
"Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp, keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare my future father-in-law before me." Then, turning to Monte Cristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew the baron?" 
"I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo; "but I shall probably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a credit opened with him by the house of Richard & Blount, of London, Arstein & Eskeles of Vienna, and Thomson & French at Rome." As he pronounced the two last names, the count glanced at Maximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce an effect on Morrel, he was not mistaken--Maximilian started as if he had been electrified. "Thomson & French," said he; "do you know this house, monsieur?" 
"They are my bankers in the capital of the Christian world," returned the count quietly. "Can my influence with them be of any service to you?" 
"Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches which have been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in past years, did ours a great service, and has, I know not for what reason, always denied having rendered us this service." 
"I shall be at your orders," said Monte Cristo bowing. 
"But," continued Morcerf, "à propos of Danglars,--we have strangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of a suitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come, gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall we lodge this new guest in our great capital?" 
"Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Chateau-Renaud. "The count will find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden." 
"Bah, Chateau-Renaud," returned Debray, "you only know your dull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain; do not pay any attention to him, count--live in the Chaussée d'Antin, that's the real centre of Paris." 
"Boulevard de l'Opéra," said Beauchamp; "the second floor--a house with a balcony. The count will have his cushions of silver cloth brought there, and as he smokes his chibouque, see all Paris pass before him." 
"You have no idea, then, Morrel?" asked Chateau-Renaud; "you do not propose anything." 
"Oh, yes," returned the young man, smiling; "on the contrary, I have one, but I expected the count would be tempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him, yet as he has not replied to any of them, I will venture to offer him a suite of apartments in a charming hotel, in the Pompadour style, that my sister has inhabited for a year, in the Rue Meslay." 
"You have a sister?" asked the count. 
"Yes, monsieur, a most excellent sister." 
"Married?" 
"Nearly nine years." 
"Happy?" asked the count again. 
"As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be," replied Maximilian. "She married the man she loved, who remained faithful to us in our fallen fortunes--Emmanuel Herbaut." Monte Cristo smiled imperceptibly. "I live there during my leave of absence," continued Maximilian; "and I shall be, together with my brother-in-law Emmanuel, at the disposition of the Count, whenever he thinks fit to honor us." 
"One minute," cried Albert, without giving Monte Cristo the time to reply. "Take care, you are going to immure a traveller, Sinbad the Sailor, a man who comes to see Paris; you are going to make a patriarch of him." 
"Oh, no," said Morrel; "my sister is five and twenty, my brother-in-law is thirty, they are gay, young, and happy. Besides, the count will be in his own house, and only see them when he thinks fit to do so." 
"Thanks, monsieur," said Monte Cristo; "I shall content myself with being presented to your sister and her husband, if you will do me the honor to introduce me; but I cannot accept the offer of any one of these gentlemen, since my habitation is already prepared." 
"What," cried Morcerf; "you are, then, going to an hotel--that will be very dull for you." 
"Was I so badly lodged at Rome?" said Monte Cristo smiling. 
"Parbleu! at Rome you spent fifty thousand piastres in furnishing your apartments, but I presume that you are not disposed to spend a similar sum every day." 
"It is not that which deterred me," replied Monte Cristo; "but as I determined to have a house to myself, I sent on my valet de chambre, and he ought by this time to have bought the house and furnished it." 
"But you have, then, a valet de chambre who knows Paris?" said Beauchamp. 
"It is the first time he has ever been in Paris. He is black, and cannot speak," returned Monte Cristo. 
"It is Ali!" cried Albert, in the midst of the general surprise. 
"Yes, Ali himself, my Nubian mute, whom you saw, I think, at Rome." 
"Certainly," said Morcerf; "I recollect him perfectly. But how could you charge a Nubian to purchase a house, and a mute to furnish it?--he will do everything wrong." 
"Undeceive yourself, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I am quite sure, that, on the contrary, he will choose everything as I wish. He knows my tastes, my caprices, my wants. He has been here a week, with the instinct of a hound, hunting by himself. He will arrange everything for me. He knew, that I should arrive to-day at ten o'clock; he was waiting for me at nine at the Barrière de Fontainebleau. He gave me this paper; it contains the number of my new abode; read it yourself," and Monte Cristo passed a paper to Albert. "Ah, that is really original," said Beauchamp. 
"And very princely," added Chateau-Renaud. 
"What, do you not know your house?" asked Debray. 
"No," said Monte Cristo; "I told you I did not wish to be behind my time; I dressed myself in the carriage, and descended at the viscount's door." The young men looked at each other; they did not know if it was a comedy Monte Cristo was playing, but every word he uttered had such an air of simplicity, that it was impossible to suppose what he said was false--besides, why should he tell a falsehood? "We must content ourselves, then," said Beauchamp, "with rendering the count all the little services in our power. I, in my quality of journalist, open all the theatres to him." 
"Thanks, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo, "my steward has orders to take a box at each theatre." 
"Is your steward also a Nubian?" asked Debray. 
"No, he is a countryman of yours, if a Corsican is a countryman of any one's. But you know him, M. de Morcerf." 
"Is it that excellent M. Bertuccio, who understands hiring windows so well?" 
"Yes, you saw him the day I had the honor of receiving you; he has been a soldier, a smuggler--in fact, everything. I would not be quite sure that he has not been mixed up with the police for some trifle--a stab with a knife, for instance." 
"And you have chosen this honest citizen for your steward," said Debray. "Of how much does he rob you every year?" 
"On my word," replied the count, "not more than another. I am sure he answers my purpose, knows no impossibility, and so I keep him." 
"Then," continued Chateau-Renaud, "since you have an establishment, a steward, and a hotel in the Champs Elysées, you only want a mistress." Albert smiled. He thought of the fair Greek he had seen in the count's box at the Argentina and Valle theatres. "I have something better than that," said Monte Cristo; "I have a slave. You procure your mistresses from the opera, the Vaudeville, or the Variétés; I purchased mine at Constantinople; it cost me more, but I have nothing to fear." 
"But you forget," replied Debray, laughing, "that we are Franks by name and franks by nature, as King Charles said, and that the moment she puts her foot in France your slave becomes free." 
"Who will tell her?" 
"The first person who sees her." 
"She only speaks Romaic." 
"That is different." 
"But at least we shall see her," said Beauchamp, "or do you keep eunuchs as well as mutes?" 
"Oh, no," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not carry brutalism so far. Every one who surrounds me is free to quit me, and when they leave me will no longer have any need of me or any one else; it is for that reason, perhaps, that they do not quit me." They had long since passed to dessert and cigars. 
"My dear Albert," said Debray, rising, "it is half-past two. Your guest is charming, but you leave the best company to go into the worst sometimes. I must return to the minister's. I will tell him of the count, and we shall soon know who he is." 
"Take care," returned Albert; "no one has been able to accomplish that." 
"Oh, we have three millions for our police; it is true they are almost always spent beforehand, but, no matter, we shall still have fifty thousand francs to spend for this purpose." 
"And when you know, will you tell me?" 
"I promise you. Au revoir, Albert. Gentlemen, good morning." 
As he left the room, Debray called out loudly, "My carriage." 
"Bravo," said Beauchamp to Albert; "I shall not go to the Chamber, but I have something better to offer my readers than a speech of M. Danglars." 
"For heaven's sake, Beauchamp," returned Morcerf, "do not deprive me of the merit of introducing him everywhere. Is he not peculiar?" 
"He is more than that," replied Chateau-Renaud; "he is one of the most extraordinary men I ever saw in my life. Are you coming, Morrel?" 
"Directly I have given my card to the count, who has promised to pay us a visit at Rue Meslay, No. 14." 
"Be sure I shall not fail to do so," returned the count, bowing. And Maximilian Morrel left the room with the Baron de Chateau-Renaud, leaving Monte Cristo alone with Morcerf.  
读者大概还记得，伯爵是一个极节食的宾客。阿尔贝注意到了这一点，深恐巴黎式的生活一开始就会在这最重要的一点上使这位客人不高兴。 
“亲爱的伯爵，”他说道，“我怕海尔达路的饭菜不象爱勘探巴广场的那样合您的胃口。这一点我本应该先跟您商量，为您做几样特别合您口味的菜的。” 
“要是您对我了解较多的话，”伯爵微笑着答道，“对于象我这样一个随缘度日，在那不勒斯吃通心粉，在梅朗吃粟粉粥，在瓦朗斯吃杂烩羹，在君士坦丁堡吃抓饭，在印度吃‘卡力克’，在中国吃燕窝的旅行家，这种事您想都不会想的。我无论到什么地方，什么饭菜都能吃，只是我吃得很少。今天，您怪我吃得少，实际上这已是胃口很好的时候了，因为从昨天早晨以来，我还没吃过东西。” 
“什么！”宾客都惊叫道，“您二十四小时没吃东西了吗？” 
“是的，”伯爵答道，“因为必须绕道到尼姆去听一点消息，所以来不及了，沿途就没有停车。”那么您在马车里进餐了吗？”马尔塞夫问道。 
“没有，我睡觉，当我累了而又无心去消遣，或当我肚子饿而又不想吃东西的时候，我总是睡觉的。” 
“但您能睡就睡吗，阁下？”莫雷尔问道。 
“差不多是这样吧。” 
“您的办法保险吗？” 
“万无一失。” 
“那对于我们那些在非洲的人真是太难得了，我们常常找不到吃的，饮料也极少。” 
“是的，”基督山说，“但不幸的是，我的办法对象我这样过着一种特别生活的人虽然很有用外，可是对全军将士却非常危险，会使他们需要醒的时候醒不过来。” 
“我们能否问一下这种办法究竟是什么呢？”德布雷问道。 
“噢，可以的，”基督山答道，“我并不想保守秘密。那是上等的鸦片和最好的大麻的一种混合剂。鸦片是我从广东买来的，可保证它的质量上等，大麻是东方的产品，也就是说，是在底格和幼发拉底河之间生长的。这两种成份以相等的份量混合起来，制成丸药，吃下一颗以后，十分钟就可见效。这点可问一下弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵阁下，我记得他曾吃过一次。” 
“是的，”马尔塞夫回答说，“他对我说起过这样的事。” 
“但是，”波尚说道，他站在新闻记者的立场上，仍抱着非常怀疑的态度，“这种药丸您总是带在身上吗？” 
“总是带着的。” 
“我想看一下这种宝贵的药丸，伯爵不会怪我失礼吧？”波尚又说道，心里很想难倒他。 
“没什么，阁下。”伯爵回答道，说完他从衣袋里摸出了一只非常名贵的小盒子，那是整块翡翠镂刻成的，上面有一个金质的盖子，盖子一转，就从里面倒出了一粒淡绿色的小丸子，约莫有豌豆大小。这粒药丸有一股辛辣刺鼻的香味。翡翠盒子里还有四五粒，这本来的容量大概在一打左右。全桌的人传看着这只小盒子，但宾客们把它拿到手上的时候，主要的是细察这块令人羡慕的翡翠而不是去看那药丸。 
“这些药丸是您的厨师给您调制的吗？”波尚问道。 
“噢，不，阁下，”基督山答道，“我不会把我真正心爱的享受品托给无能的人去随意乱弄的。我自己勉强可算是一个药剂师，我的药丸都是我亲自调制的。” 
“这块翡翠真漂亮，是我生平所见的最大的了，”夏多·勒诺说道，“虽然家母也颇有一些家传的稀奇珠宝。” 
“我有三块同样的，”基督山答道。“一块我送给了土尔其皇帝他把它镶在了他的佩刀上，另一块让我送给了我们的圣父教皇，他把它和拿破仑皇帝送给他的前任庇护七世的那一块一同镶在他的皇冠上了，他原来的那一块差不多也这样大，但质地没这么好。这第三块我留给了自己，我把它镂空了，虽然降低了它的价值，但用起来却的确非常方便。” 
每个人都惊异地望着基督山，他的话讲得这样简洁，显然所说的是实情，否则的话他疯了。但是，这块翡翠明明在眼前，所以他们自然倾向于相信。 
“那两位君主用什么和您交换这种珍贵的礼物的呢？”德布雷问道。 
“我向土耳其皇帝交换了一个女人的自由，”伯爵回答说，“向教皇交换了一个男人的生命。所以在我的一生中，也曾一度有过权力。好象上天送到帝王宫中降生似的。” 
“您救的是庇皮诺，对吧？”马尔塞夫大声说道，“您就是为他才去弄到那个赦罪令的吧？” 
“或许是的吧。”伯爵微笑着回答说。 
“伯爵阁下，您不知道我听了这些话有多高兴，”马尔塞夫说道。“我事先已对我这几位朋友宣称过，说您是《一千零一夜》里的一位魔术师，中世纪的巫师，但巴黎人诡辩起来倒是十分精明的，假如那种事不是他们的日常生活所遇到的话，那他们就会把最无可争辩的事实误认作狂想。譬如说，骑士俱乐部的一个会员在大街上被抢劫啦；圣·但尼街或圣·日尔曼村有四个人被暗杀啦；寺院大道或几龄路的一家咖啡馆里捉到了十个，十五个，或二十个小偷啦；这一类新闻，德布雷天天看到，波尚天天刊登，可是，他们却拚命说马里曼丛林，罗马平原，或邦汀沼泽地带没有强盗。请您当面告诉他们，我的确被强盗绑去过，要不是您仗义搭救，恐怕我现在早已躺在圣·塞巴斯蒂安的陵墓里，而决不可能再在海尔达路我这间寒舍里接待他们啦。” 
“但是，基督山说道，“您答应过我决不再提那次不幸的事的。” 
“我可没那样答应您呀，”马尔塞夫大声说道，“那一定是另外一个人答应的，那个人也蒙您这样把他救了出来，而您却把他忘了。请谈谈吧，假如您愿意把那件事讲出来，我不但可以听到几件我已经知道了的事，而且或许还可以知道更多到现在为止还不明白的事情呢。” 
“依我看，”伯爵微笑着答道，“您也扮演了一个相当重要的角色，对于经过的种种事情，已经知道得象我一样清楚了呀。” 
“好吧，请答应我，假如我把我所知道的一切都讲出来，您也就把我所不知道的一切都讲出来。” 
“那很公平合理。”基督山伯爵回答说。 
“是这样的，”马尔塞夫开始了他的讲述，“接连三天，我自以为已成了一个蒙面女郎青睐的目标，我把她看作了丽亚或鲍贝类美女的后裔了，而实际上她是个化装的农家女，我之所以说是农家女，是为了避免说农妇。我只知道自己当时象个傻瓜，一个大傻瓜，我错把这个下巴上没有胡须，腰肢纤细，年约十五六岁的男强盗看成是一个农家女了，正当我想在他的嘴唇上吻一下时，他忽然拿出一支手枪顶住我脑袋，另外还有七八支手枪过来帮忙，于是我被领到，或说得更准确些，是被拖到了圣·塞巴斯蒂安的陵墓里。在那儿，我发现有一位受过高深教育的强盗正在那儿阅读《凯撒历史回忆录》，蒙他弃书赐教，告诉我说，除非我在第二天早晨六点钟以前拿出四千毕阿士特，否则到了六点一刻我就活不成了。那封信现在还在，因为弗兰兹·伊皮奈还保留着，上面有我的签名，有罗吉·万帕先生的附言。我所知道的就这些了，我不了解的是，伯爵阁下，您究竟怎么使这些天不怕地不怕的罗马强盗这样尊敬您。说实话，弗兰兹和我的确都对您佩服极啦。” 
“说来简单极了，”伯爵答道。“我认识那位大名鼎鼎的万帕已有十几年了。当他还只是个孩子，一个牧童的时候，他就曾给我领了一段路，为此我曾送了他几块金洋。他呢，为了报答我，就送了一把匕首，那把匕首的柄是他亲手雕刻的，你们要是去参观我的武器收藏柜的话，还可以看到它。本来，这次交换礼物，应该可以建立起我们之间的友谊的，但到了后来，不知他究竟是把这件事忘了呢，还是记不得了，他想来抓我，结果反倒是我抓住了他，还把他的手下人也捉了一打。我本来可以把他交给罗马法庭的，法庭方面大概也是会欢迎的，尤其是他，但我没那样做，相反的，我把他和他的手下人都放了。” 
“条件是不许他们再作恶，”波尚大笑着说道。“我很高兴看到他们确能信守诺言。” 
“不，阁下，”基督山回答，“我的条件只是要求他该尊重我和我的朋友。你们之中要是有社会主义者，以宣扬人道和以对你们邻居尊重为荣的话，那么对于下面的这番话或许会觉得奇怪的，我从来不想去保护社会，因为社会并没有保护我，我甚至可以说，一般而言，它只想来伤害我，所以我对它毫无敬意，并对它们保持中立的态度，并非我欠社会和我的邻居的情，而是社会和我的邻居欠了我的情。” 
“好！”夏多·勒诺大声说道，“您是我生平遇到的第一个敢于把利己主义说得这样坦诚的人。好样的，伯爵阁下，说得好！” 
“至少可算得上说得很坦白，”莫雷尔说道。“但我相信伯爵阁下虽曾有一度背离了他这样大胆宣称的原则，但他是不会感到遗憾的。” 
“我怎么背离了那些原则，阁下？”基督山问道，他象这样不由自主地以专注的目光去望莫雷尔，已经有两三次了，这个青年简直有点受不了伯爵这明亮而清澈的目光。 
“噢，在我看来，”莫雷尔答道，“您救了您并不认识的马尔塞夫先生，也就是帮助您的邻居和社会了。” 
“他是那个社会的光荣。”波尚说道，喝干了一杯香槟。 
“伯爵阁下，”马尔塞夫大声说道，“这回您错了，您可是我所知道的最严谨的逻辑学家啊。您一定会清楚地看到，依据这个推理，您非但不是一个利己主义者，而且还是一个博爱主义者呢。啊！您自称为东方人，勒旺人，马耳他人，印度人，中国人。您的姓是基督山，水手辛巴德是您的教名，可是在您的脚踏上巴黎的第一天，您就自然具备我们这些反常的巴黎人的最大美德，或说得更确切些，我们的最大的缺点，就是，故意表白您所没有的污点，而掩饰了您固有的美德。” 
“亲爱的子爵，”基督山答道，“我看不出在我所做的一切事上有哪一点值得您和这几位先生如此过奖。您和我早已不是陌生人，因为我们早就相识了。我曾让了两个房间给您，我曾请您和我共进早餐，我曾借给您一辆马车；我们曾一同看狂欢节；我们也曾在波波罗广场的一个窗口上一同看处决人，那次把您吓得差一点昏过去。我请这几位先生说句公道话，我能让我的客人由那个您所谓的可怕的强盗去任意摆布吗？而且，您知道，我曾想过，当我到法国来的时候，您可以介绍我踏进巴黎的几家客厅。您以前或许把我这个决定看作一个空泛不可能实现的计划，但今天您已经看到了它的实施事情，这件事，您要是不守信用，一定要受罚的。” 
“我一定守信用，”马尔塞夫回答说，“但我深恐您见惯了奇事美景，对这里会大感失望的。在我们这里，您遇不到任何在您的冒险生活里常常遇到的那种插曲。马特山就是我们的琴博拉索山，凡尔灵山就是我们的喜马拉雅山，格勒内尔平原就是我们的戈壁大沙漠，而且他们现在正在那儿掘一口自流井，以便沙漠里的旅客能有水吃。我们有不少小偷，尽管没有报上说的那样多，但这些小偷怕警察甚于怕失主。法国是这样平淡无奇，巴黎又是这样文明的一个都市，以致在它的八十五个省境内——我说八十五个，因为我没有把科西嘉包括进去——嗯，在这八十五个省境内，您无论在哪一座小山上都可找到一座急报站，无论哪一个岩洞里都可找到一盏警察局安放的煤气灯。我只有一件事可以为您效劳，听您的吩咐，由我或请我的朋友到处为您介绍。其实，您也无需任何人为您介绍——凭您的大名、您的财富和您的天才，（基督山带着一个近于讽刺意味的微笑鞠了一躬）您可以到处自荐而受到很好的接待。我只在一点上可以对您有点用处，在熟悉巴黎生活的习惯，使日子过得安乐舒适，或则买衣物用具这几方面，我的经验对您能有所帮助的话，您尽管差遣我为您去找一所适当的住宅。我在罗马分享了您的住处，但我不敢请您分享我的住处——虽然我并不主张利己主义，但我却是个十足的利己主义者——因为除了我本人以外，这些房间连一个影子也容纳不下，除非是一个女人的倩影。” 
“啊，”伯爵说道，“那是准备金屋藏娇了，我记得在罗马的时候，你曾提到过一件计划中的婚事。我可以向您道喜了吗？” 
“那件事到目前还只是一个计划。” 
“所谓‘计划’，意思说是事实。”德布雷说道。 
“不是的，马尔塞夫答道，“家父极想结这门亲事，我希望在不久的将来能介绍您见一见这位即使不是我的太太，至少也是我的未婚妻的欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐。” 
“欧热妮·腾格拉尔！”基督山说道，“请告诉我，她的父亲不就是腾格拉尔男爵阁下吗？” 
“正是，”马尔塞夫答道，“他是一位新封的男爵。” 
“那有什么关系，”基督山说道，“假如他对国家有贡献，佩得上这称号的话。” 
“贡献大极了，”波尚回答说。“虽然身为自由派，他却在一八二九年为查理十世，谈成了一笔六万的借款，而查理十世就给他封了个男爵的称号，并赏他荣誉爵士的衔头，所以他也挂起勋章来了，只是，并不象您所想的那样挂在他的背心上，而是挂在他的纽扣眼上。” 
“啊！”马尔塞夫大笑着插进来说道，“波尚，波尚，这些资料你还是留给滑稽画报吧，别当着我的面来挖苦我未来的岳父了。”然后，他转向基督山，“您刚才提到了他的名字，这么说您认识男爵了？” 
“我并不认识他，”基督山回答说，“但我想不久大概就可以认识他的，因为我经伦敦理杳·勃龙银行，维也纳阿斯丹·爱斯克里斯银行，罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的担保，在他的银行里可享受无限贷款的权利。” 
当他说到这最后一家银行的时候，伯爵向玛西梅朗·莫雷尔瞟了一眼。假如他这一瞟的用意是想引起莫雷尔的注意的话，那么，他的目的达到了，因为玛西梅朗象触了电似地突然一惊。“汤姆生·弗伦奇银行！”他说，“您认识那家银行吗，阁下？” 
“那是我在基督世界的首都与之有业务往来的银行，”伯爵泰然自若地回答说。“我在那家银行很有点势力，有能为您效劳的地方吗？” 
“噢，伯爵阁下，有一件事我直到现在也没法搞清您可以帮我查一查。那家银行过去曾帮过我们一次大忙，可是，我也不知为什么，他们却老是否认那次曾帮过我们。” 
“很愿意为您效劳。”基督山说道，并欠了欠身。 
“但是，”马尔塞夫又说，“奇怪，我们怎么把话题扯到腾格拉尔身上去啦。我们在讨论给伯爵找一所适当的住宅，来吧，诸位，我们大家来建议一个地方吧，我们应该把这位新客人安置在我们大首都的什么地方好呢？” 
“圣·日尔曼村，”夏多·勒诺说。“伯爵可以在那儿找一座漂亮的大厦，有前庭和花园的。
Chapter 41 The Presentation
 WHEN ALBERT found himself alone with Monte Cristo, "My dear count," said he, "allow me to commence my services as cicerone by showing you a specimen of a bachelor's apartment. You, who are accustomed to the palaces of Italy, can amuse yourself by calculating in how many square feet a young man who is not the worst lodged in Paris can live. As we pass from one room to another, I will open the windows to let you breathe." Monte Cristo had already seen the breakfast-room and the salon on the ground-floor. Albert led him first to his atelier, which was, as we have said, his favorite apartment. Monte Cristo quickly appreciated all that Albert had collected here--old cabinets, Japanese porcelain, Oriental stuffs, Venetian glass, arms from all parts of the world--everything was familiar to him; and at the first glance he recognized their date, their country, and their origin. Morcerf had expected he should be the guide; on the contrary, it was he who, under the count's guidance, followed a course of arch?ology, mineralogy, and natural history. They descended to the first floor; Albert led his guest into the salon. The salon was filled with the works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupré, with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and marvellous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth while their riders contended fiercely with their maces; aquarelles of Boulanger, representing N?tre Dame de Paris with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet; there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of Salvator Rosa, but more poetic; pastels by Giraud and Muller, representing children like angels and women with the features of a virgin; sketches torn from the album of Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a mosque--in a word, all that modern art can give in exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with ages long since past. 
Albert expected to have something new this time to show to the traveller, but, to his great surprise, the latter, without seeking for the signatures, many of which, indeed, were only initials, named instantly the author of every picture in such a manner that it was easy to see that each name was not only known to him, but that each style associated with it had been appreciated and studied by him. From the salon they passed into the bed-chamber; it was a model of taste and simple elegance. A single portrait, signed by Leopold Robert, shone in its carved and gilded frame. This portrait attracted the Count of Monte Cristo's attention, for he made three rapid steps in the chamber, and stopped suddenly before it. It was the portrait of a young woman of five or six and twenty, with a dark complexion, and light and lustrous eyes, veiled beneath long lashes. She wore the picturesque costume of the Catalan fisherwomen, a red and black bodice, and golden pins in her hair. She was looking at the sea, and her form was outlined on the blue ocean and sky. The light was so faint in the room that Albert did not perceive the pallor that spread itself over the count's visage, or the nervous heaving of his chest and shoulders. Silence prevailed for an instant, during which Monte Cristo gazed intently on the picture. 
"You have there a most charming mistress, viscount," said the count in a perfectly calm tone; "and this costume--a ball costume, doubtless--becomes her admirably." 
"Ah, monsieur," returned Albert, "I would never forgive you this mistake if you had seen another picture beside this. You do not know my mother; she it is whom you see here. She had her portrait painted thus six or eight years ago. This costume is a fancy one, it appears, and the resemblance is so great that I think I still see my mother the same as she was in 1830. The countess had this portrait painted during the count's absence. She doubtless intended giving him an agreeable surprise; but, strange to say, this portrait seemed to displease my father, and the value of the picture, which is, as you see, one of the best works of Leopold Robert, could not overcome his dislike to it. It is true, between ourselves, that M. de Morcerf is one of the most assiduous peers at the Luxembourg, a general renowned for theory, but a most mediocre amateur of art. It is different with my mother, who paints exceedingly well, and who, unwilling to part with so valuable a picture, gave it to me to put here, where it would be less likely to displease M. de Morcerf, whose portrait, by Gros, I will also show you. Excuse my talking of family matters, but as I shall have the honor of introducing you to the count, I tell you this to prevent you making any allusions to this picture. The picture seems to have a malign influence, for my mother rarely comes here without looking at it, and still more rarely does she look at it without weeping. This disagreement is the only one that has ever taken place between the count and countess, who are still as much united, although married more than twenty years, as on the first day of their wedding." 
Monte Cristo glanced rapidly at Albert, as if to seek a hidden meaning in his words, but it was evident the young man uttered them in the simplicity of his heart. "Now," said Albert, "that you have seen all my treasures, allow me to offer them to you, unworthy as they are. Consider yourself as in your own house, and to put yourself still more at your ease, pray accompany me to the apartments of M. de Morcerf, he whom I wrote from Rome an account of the services you rendered me, and to whom I announced your promised visit, and I may say that both the count and countess anxiously desire to thank you in person. You are somewhat blase I know, and family scenes have not much effect on Sinbad the Sailor, who has seen so many others. However, accept what I propose to you as an initiation into Parisian life--a life of politeness, visiting, and introductions." Monte Cristo bowed without making any answer; he accepted the offer without enthusiasm and without regret, as one of those conventions of society which every gentleman looks upon as a duty. Albert summoned his servant, and ordered him to acquaint M. and Madame de Morcerf of the arrival of the Count of Monte Cristo. Albert followed him with the count. When they arrived at the ante-chamber, above the door was visible a shield, which, by its rich ornaments and its harmony with the rest of the furniture, indicated the importance the owner attached to this blazon. Monte Cristo stopped and examined it attentively. 
"Azure seven merlets, or, placed bender," said he. "These are, doubtless, your family arms? Except the knowledge of blazons, that enables me to decipher them, I am very ignorant of heraldry--I, a count of a fresh creation, fabricated in Tuscany by the aid of a commandery of St. Stephen, and who would not have taken the trouble had I not been told that when you travel much it is necessary. Besides, you must have something on the panels of your carriage, to escape being searched by the custom-house officers. Excuse my putting such a question to you." 
"It is not indiscreet," returned Morcerf, with the simplicity of conviction. "You have guessed rightly. These are our arms, that is, those of my father, but they are, as you see, joined to another shield, which has gules, a silver tower, which are my mother's. By her side I am Spanish, but the family of Morcerf is French, and, I have heard, one of the oldest of the south of France." 
"Yes," replied Monte Cristo "these blazons prove that. Almost all the armed pilgrims that went to the Holy Land took for their arms either a cross, in honor of their mission, or birds of passage, in sign of the long voyage they were about to undertake, and which they hoped to accomplish on the wings of faith. One of your ancestors had joined the Crusades, and supposing it to be only that of St. Louis, that makes you mount to the thirteenth century, which is tolerably ancient." 
"It is possible," said Morcerf; "my father has in his study a genealogical tree which will tell you all that, and on which I made commentaries that would have greatly edified Hozier and Jaucourt. At present I no longer think of it, and yet I must tell you that we are beginning to occupy ourselves greatly with these things under our popular government." 
"Well, then, your government would do well to choose from the past something better than the things that I have noticed on your monuments, and which have no heraldic meaning whatever. As for you, viscount," continued Monte Cristo to Morcerf, "you are more fortunate than the government, for your arms are really beautiful, and speak to the imagination. Yes, you are at once from Provence and Spain; that explains, if the portrait you showed me be like, the dark hue I so much admired on the visage of the noble Catalan." It would have required the penetration of Oedipus or the Sphinx to have divined the irony the count concealed beneath these words, apparently uttered with the greatest politeness. Morcerf thanked him with a smile, and pushed open the door above which were his arms, and which, as we have said, opened into the salon. In the most conspicuous part of the salon was another portrait. It was that of a man, from five to eight and thirty, in the uniform of a general officer, wearing the double epaulet of heavy bullion, that indicates superior rank, the ribbon of the Legion of Honor around his neck, which showed he was a commander, and on the right breast, the star of a grand officer of the order of the Saviour, and on the left that of the grand cross of Charles III., which proved that the person represented by the picture had served in the wars of Greece and Spain, or, what was just the same thing as regarded decorations, had fulfilled some diplomatic mission in the two countries. 
Monte Cristo was engaged in examining this portrait with no less care than he had bestowed upon the other, when another door opened, and he found himself opposite to the Count of Morcerf in person. He was a man of forty to forty-five years, but he seemed at least fifty, and his black mustache and eyebrows contrasted strangely with his almost white hair, which was cut short, in the military fashion. He was dressed in plain clothes, and wore at his button-hole the ribbons of the different orders to which he belonged. He entered with a tolerably dignified step, and some little haste. Monte Cristo saw him advance towards him without making a single step. It seemed as if his feet were rooted to the ground, and his eyes on the Count of Morcerf. "Father," said the young man, "I have the honor of presenting to you the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous friend whom I had the good fortune to meet in the critical situation of which I have told you." 
"You are most welcome, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, saluting Monte Cristo with a smile, "and monsieur has rendered our house, in preserving its only heir, a service which insures him our eternal gratitude." As he said these words, the count of Morcerf pointed to a chair, while he seated himself in another opposite the window. 
Monte Cristo, in taking the seat Morcerf offered him, placed himself in such a manner as to remain concealed in the shadow of the large velvet curtains, and read on the careworn and livid features of the count a whole history of secret griefs written in each wrinkle time had planted there. "The countess," said Morcerf, "was at her toilet when she was informed of the visit she was about to receive. She will, however, be in the salon in ten minutes." 
"It is a great honor to me," returned Monte Cristo, "to be thus, on the first day of my arrival in Paris, brought in contact with a man whose merit equals his reputation, and to whom fortune has for once been equitable, but has she not still on the plains of Metidja, or in the mountains of Atlas, a marshal's staff to offer you?" 
"Oh," replied Morcerf, reddening slightly, "I have left the service, monsieur. Made a peer at the Restoration, I served through the first campaign under the orders of Marshal Bourmont. I could, therefore, expect a higher rank, and who knows what might have happened had the elder branch remained on the throne? But the Revolution of July was, it seems, sufficiently glorious to allow itself to be ungrateful, and it was so for all services that did not date from the imperial period. I tendered my resignation, for when you have gained your epaulets on the battle-field, you do not know how to manoeuvre on the slippery grounds of the salons. I have hung up my sword, and cast myself into politics. I have devoted myself to industry; I study the useful arts. During the twenty years I served, I often wished to do so, but I had not the time." 
"These are the ideas that render your nation superior to any other," returned Monte Cristo. "A gentleman of high birth, possessor of an ample fortune, you have consented to gain your promotion as an obscure soldier, step by step--this is uncommon; then become general, peer of France, commander of the Legion of Honor, you consent to again commence a second apprenticeship, without any other hope or any other desire than that of one day becoming useful to your fellow-creatures; this, indeed, is praiseworthy,--nay, more, it is sublime." Albert looked on and listened with astonishment; he was not used to see Monte Cristo give vent to such bursts of enthusiasm. "Alas," continued the stranger, doubtless to dispel the slight cloud that covered Morcerf's brow, "we do not act thus in Italy; we grow according to our race and our species, and we pursue the same lines, and often the same uselessness, all our lives." 
"But, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, "for a man of your merit, Italy is not a country, and France opens her arms to receive you; respond to her call. France will not, perhaps, be always ungrateful. She treats her children ill, but she always welcomes strangers." 
"Ah, father," said Albert with a smile, "it is evident you do not know the Count of Monte Cristo; he despises all honors, and contents himself with those written on his passport." 
"That is the most just remark," replied the stranger, "I ever heard made concerning myself." 
"You have been free to choose your career," observed the Count of Morcerf, with a sigh; "and you have chosen the path strewed with flowers." 
"Precisely, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo with one of those smiles that a painter could never represent or a physiologist analyze. 
"If I did not fear to fatigue you," said the general, evidently charmed with the count's manners, "I would have taken you to the Chamber; there is a debate very curious to those who are strangers to our modern senators." 
"I shall be most grateful, monsieur, if you will, at some future time, renew your offer, but I have been flattered with the hope of being introduced to the countess, and I will therefore wait." 
"Ah, here is my mother," cried the viscount. Monte Cristo, turned round hastily, and saw Madame de Morcerf at the entrance of the salon, at the door opposite to that by which her husband had entered, pale and motionless; when Monte Cristo turned round, she let fall her arm, which for some unknown reason had been resting on the gilded door-post. She had been there some moments, and had heard the last words of the visitor. The latter rose and bowed to the countess, who inclined herself without speaking. "Ah, good heavens, madame," said the count, "are you ill, or is it the heat of the room that affects you?" 
"Are you ill, mother?" cried the viscount, springing towards her. 
She thanked them both with a smile. "No," returned she, "but I feel some emotion on seeing, for the first time, the man without whose intervention we should have been in tears and desolation. Monsieur," continued the countess, advancing with the majesty of a queen, "I owe to you the life of my son, and for this I bless you. Now, I thank you for the pleasure you give me in thus affording me the opportunity of thanking you as I have blessed you, from the bottom of my heart." The count bowed again, but lower than before; He was even paler than Mercédès. "Madame," said he, "the count and yourself recompense too generously a simple action. To save a man, to spare a father's feelings, or a mother's sensibility, is not to do a good action, but a simple deed of humanity." At these words, uttered with the most exquisite sweetness and politeness, Madame de Morcerf replied. "It is very fortunate for my son, monsieur, that he found such a friend, and I thank God that things are thus." And Mercédès raised her fine eyes to heaven with so fervent an expression of gratitude, that the count fancied he saw tears in them. M. de Morcerf approached her. "Madame," said he. "I have already made my excuses to the count for quitting him, and I pray you to do so also. The sitting commences at two; it is now three, and I am to speak." 
"Go, then, and monsieur and I will strive our best to forget your absence," replied the countess, with the same tone of deep feeling. "Monsieur," continued she, turning to Monte Cristo, "will you do us the honor of passing the rest of the day with us?" 
"Believe me, madame, I feel most grateful for your kindness, but I got out of my travelling carriage at your door this morning, and I am ignorant how I am installed in Paris, which I scarcely know; this is but a trifling inquietude, I know, but one that may be appreciated." 
"We shall have the pleasure another time," said the countess; "you promise that?" Monte Cristo inclined himself without answering, but the gesture might pass for assent. "I will not detain you, monsieur," continued the countess; "I would not have our gratitude become indiscreet or importunate." 
"My dear Count," said Albert, "I will endeavor to return your politeness at Rome, and place my coupé at your disposal until your own be ready." 
"A thousand thanks for your kindness, viscount," returned the Count of Monte Cristo "but I suppose that M. Bertuccio has suitably employed the four hours and a half I have given him, and that I shall find a carriage of some sort ready at the door." Albert was used to the count's manner of proceeding; he knew that, like Nero, he was in search of the impossible, and nothing astonished him, but wishing to judge with his own eyes how far the count's orders had been executed, he accompanied him to the door of the house. Monte Cristo was not deceived. As soon as he appeared in the Count of Morcerf's ante-chamber, a footman, the same who at Rome had brought the count's card to the two young men, and announced his visit, sprang into the vestibule, and when he arrived at the door the illustrious traveller found his carriage awaiting him. It was a coupé of Koller's building, and with horses and harness for which Drake had, to the knowledge of all the lions of Paris, refused on the previous day seven hundred guineas. "Monsieur," said the count to Albert, "I do not ask you to accompany me to my house, as I can only show you a habitation fitted up in a hurry, and I have, as you know, a reputation to keep up as regards not being taken by surprise. Give me, therefore, one more day before I invite you; I shall then be certain not to fail in my hospitality." 
"If you ask me for a day, count, I know what to anticipate; it will not be a house I shall see, but a palace. You have decidedly some genius at your control." 
"Ma foi! spread that idea," replied the Count of Monte Cristo, putting his foot on the velvet-lined steps of his splendid carriage, "and that will be worth something to me among the ladies." As he spoke, he sprang into the vehicle, the door was closed, but not so rapidly that Monte Cristo failed to perceive the almost imperceptible movement which stirred the curtains of the apartment in which he had left Madame de Morcerf. When Albert returned to his mother, he found her in the boudoir reclining in a large velvet arm-chair, the whole room so obscure that only the shining spangle, fastened here and there to the drapery, and the angles of the gilded frames of the pictures, showed with some degree of brightness in the gloom. Albert could not see the face of the countess, as it was covered with a thin veil she had put on her head, and which fell over her features in misty folds, but it seemed to him as though her voice had altered. He could distinguish amid the perfumes of the roses and heliotropes in the flower-stands, the sharp and fragrant odor of volatile salts, and he noticed in one of the chased cups on the mantle-piece the countess's smelling-bottle, taken from its shagreen case, and exclaimed in a tone of uneasiness, as he entered,--"My dear mother, have you been ill during my absence?" 
"No, no, Albert, but you know these roses, tuberoses, and orange-flowers throw out at first, before one is used to them, such violent perfumes." 
"Then, my dear mother," said Albert, putting his hand to the bell, "they must be taken into the ante-chamber. You are really ill, and just now were so pale as you came into the room"-- 
"Was I pale, Albert?" 
"Yes; a pallor that suits you admirably, mother, but which did not the less alarm my father and myself." 
"Did your father speak of it?" inquired Mercédès eagerly. 
"No, madame; but do you not remember that he spoke of the fact to you?" 
"Yes, I do remember," replied the countess. A servant entered, summoned by Albert's ring of the bell. "Take these flowers into the anteroom or dressing-room," said the viscount; "they make the countess ill." The footman obeyed his orders. A long pause ensued, which lasted until all the flowers were removed. "What is this name of Monte Cristo?" inquired the countess, when the servant had taken away the last vase of flowers, "is it a family name, or the name of the estate, or a simple title?" 
"I believe, mother, it is merely a title. The count purchased an island in the Tuscan archipelago, and, as he told you to-day, has founded a commandery. You know the same thing was done for Saint Stephen of Florence, Saint George, Constantinian of Parma, and even for the Order of Malta. Except this, he has no pretension to nobility, and calls himself a chance count, although the general opinion at Rome is that the count is a man of very high distinction." 
"His manners are admirable," said the countess, "at least, as far as I could judge in the few minutes he remained here." 
"They are perfect mother, so perfect, that they surpass by far all I have known in the leading aristocracy of the three proudest nobilities of Europe--the English, the Spanish, and the German." The countess paused a moment; then, after a slight hesitation, she resumed,--"You have seen, my dear Albert--I ask the question as a mother--you have seen M. de Monte Cristo in his house, you are quicksighted, have much knowledge of the world, more tact than is usual at your age, do you think the count is really what he appears to be?" 
"What does he appear to be?" 
"Why, you have just said,--a man of high distinction." 
"I told you, my dear mother, he was esteemed such." 
"But what is your own opinion, Albert?" 
"I must tell you that I have not come to any decided opinion respecting him, but I think him a Maltese." 
"I do not ask you of his origin but what he is." 
"Ah, what he is; that is quite another thing. I have seen so many remarkable things in him, that if you would have me really say what I think, I shall reply that I really do look upon him as one of Byron's heroes, whom misery has marked with a fatal brand; some Manfred, some Lara, some Werner, one of those wrecks, as it were, of some ancient family, who, disinherited of their patrimony, have achieved one by the force of their adventurous genius, which has placed them above the laws of society." 
"You say"-- 
"I say that Monte Cristo is an island in the midst of the Mediterranean, without inhabitants or garrison, the resort of smugglers of all nations, and pirates of every flag. Who knows whether or not these industrious worthies do not pay to their feudal lord some dues for his protection?" 
"That is possible," said the countess, reflecting. 
"Never mind," continued the young man, "smuggler or not, you must agree, mother dear, as you have seen him, that the Count of Monte Cristo is a remarkable man, who will have the greatest success in the salons of Paris. Why, this very morning, in my rooms, he made his entrée amongst us by striking every man of us with amazement, not even excepting Chateau-Renaud." 
"And what do you suppose is the count's age?" inquired Mercédès, evidently attaching great importance to this question. 
"Thirty-five or thirty-six, mother." 
"So young,--it is impossible," said Mercédès, replying at the same time to what Albert said as well as to her own private reflection. 
"It is the truth, however. Three or four times he has said to me, and certainly without the slightest premeditation, 'at such a period I was five years old, at another ten years old, at another twelve,' and I, induced by curiosity, which kept me alive to these details, have compared the dates, and never found him inaccurate. The age of this singular man, who is of no age, is then, I am certain, thirty-five. Besides, mother, remark how vivid his eye, how raven-black his hair, and his brow, though so pale, is free from wrinkles,--he is not only vigorous, but also young." The countess bent her head, as if beneath a heavy wave of bitter thoughts. "And has this man displayed a friendship for you, Albert?" she asked with a nervous shudder. 
"I am inclined to think so." 
"And--do--you--like--him?" 
"Why, he pleases me in spite of Franz d'Epinay, who tries to convince me that he is a being returned from the other world." The countess shuddered. "Albert," she said, in a voice which was altered by emotion, "I have always put you on your guard against new acquaintances. Now you are a man, and are able to give me advice; yet I repeat to you, Albert, be prudent." 
"Why, my dear mother, it is necessary, in order to make your advice turn to account, that I should know beforehand what I have to distrust. The count never plays, he only drinks pure water tinged with a little sherry, and is so rich that he cannot, without intending to laugh at me, try to borrow money. What, then, have I to fear from him?" 
"You are right," said the countess, "and my fears are weakness, especially when directed against a man who has saved your life. How did your father receive him, Albert? It is necessary that we should be more than complaisant to the count. M. de Morcerf is sometimes occupied, his business makes him reflective, and he might, without intending it"-- 
"Nothing could be in better taste than my father's demeanor, madame," said Albert; "nay, more, he seemed greatly flattered at two or three compliments which the count very skilfully and agreeably paid him with as much ease as if he had known him these thirty years. Each of these little tickling arrows must have pleased my father," added Albert with a laugh. "And thus they parted the best possible friends, and M. de Morcerf even wished to take him to the Chamber to hear the speakers." The countess made no reply. She fell into so deep a revery that her eyes gradually closed. The young man, standing up before her, gazed upon her with that filial affection which is so tender and endearing with children whose mothers are still young and handsome. Then, after seeing her eyes closed, and hearing her breathe gently, he believed she had dropped asleep, and left the apartment on tiptoe, closing the door after him with the utmost precaution. "This devil of a fellow," he muttered, shaking his head; "I said at the time he would create a sensation here, and I measure his effect by an infallible thermometer. My mother has noticed him, and he must therefore, perforce, be remarkable." He went down to the stables, not without some slight annoyance, when he remembered that the Count of Monte Cristo had laid his hands on a "turnout" which sent his bays down to second place in the opinion of connoisseurs. "Most decidedly," said he, "men are not equal, and I must beg my father to develop this theorem in the Chamber of Peers."  
当阿尔贝发现只剩他和伯爵两个人的时候，就说道：“伯爵阁下，请允许我来领您参观一下单身汉的房间吧。您在意大利住惯了宫殿，现在来计算一下一个住得还不错的青年在巴黎能有多少平方尺的地方可住，也是件很有趣的事。我们来一个房间地看吧，我给您打开窗户，让您透透气。” 
“楼下的餐厅和客厅基督山已经看过了。阿尔贝先领他去了他的艺术工作室，那间工作室，我们前面已经说过，原是他最心爱的房间。基督山是一位可敬的鉴赏家，凡是阿尔贝收集在这儿的东西：古老的木柜，日本瓷器，东方的丝绸，威尼斯玻璃器具，世界各地的武器等等每一样东西他都非常熟悉，一看便知它们是哪个时代的东西，产于哪个国家以及它们的来历。 
马尔塞夫原以为应该由他来指导伯爵的，而实际却恰恰相反，倒是他在伯爵的指导之下上了一堂考古学，矿物学和博物学的课。他们下到二楼，阿尔贝领他的贵宾进入客厅。客厅里挂满了近代画家的作品，有杜佩雷的风景画：长长的芦苇和高大的树木，哞哞叫的奶牛和明朗的天空；有德拉克络画的阿拉伯骑侠：身穿白色的长袍，把着闪闪发光的腰带，戴着铁套的纹章，他们的马用牙齿互相嘶咬，骑在马上的人却在用他们的狼子棒凶猛地格斗；拼杀布郎热的水彩画，色彩极其动人，以致使画家成了诗人的仇敌；有边亚兹的油画，他使他的花比真花还鲜艳，太阳比真的太阳还灿烂；有德冈的图案画，色彩象萨尔瓦多·罗联萨的画一样生动，但却富于诗意；有吉罗和米勒的粉笔画，把小孩子画得象天使安琪儿，把女人画得象仙女般美貌；有从多萨的《东方之行画册》上撕下来的速写，那些速写都是画家在驼峰上或回教寺院的殿堂下只花了几秒钟的时间勾成的。总之，都是近代的艺术珍品，作为补偿那些久已失传的古代艺术品的杰作。 
阿尔贝以为这次可以有些新的东西给那位旅行家看看了，但使他极其惊奇的是：后者不必看画上的签名（其中有许多实际上只是些缩写），便能立刻说出每一幅画的作者姓名，而且态度非常安闲自在，可以看出他不仅知道每一位画家的姓名，而且还曾鉴别和研究过他们不同的画风。他们从客厅又到了卧室，这个房间布置得极其朴素雅致。在一只镀金镂花的镜框里，嵌着一幅署名“奥波·罗贝尔”的肖像画。这幅肖像画引了基督山伯爵的注意，只见他在房间里急速向前走了几步，然后突然在画像前面停了下来。画面上是一位青年女子，年约二十五六岁，肤色微黑，长长的睫毛下，有一双水汪汪的明亮的眼睛。她穿着美丽的迦太罗尼亚渔家女的服装——一件红黑相间的短衫，头发上插着金发针。她凝望着大海，背景是蓝色的海与天空。房间里的光线很暗，所以阿尔贝没有觉察到伯爵的脸色突然变得苍白了，他的胸膛和肩膀在神经质地颤抖着。房间里一时间沉寂了一会儿，在这期间，基督山出神地凝视着那幅画。 
“您的情妇可真漂亮啊，子爵，”伯爵用一种十分平静的口吻说道，“这套服装大概是跳舞时穿的吧，使她看上去可爱极了。” 
“啊，阁下！”阿尔贝答道，“要是您看过了这幅画旁边的另一幅画，我就不能原谅您这个错误了。您不认识我的母亲。您在这幅画上看到的人就是她。这幅像是七八年前画的。这套服装，看上去象是她想象出来的，可是画得很逼真，使我觉得好象看到了一八三○年时的母亲一样。伯爵夫人的这幅像是在伯爵出门的时候画的。她无疑是想使他大吃一惊，但说来也奇怪，我父亲似乎很不高兴看到这幅像，即使这幅画十分名贵，因为您已经看到了，这是莱身波·罗贝尔画的杰作之一，这也无法克服他对它的厌恶。真的，这话我只能对你说，马尔塞夫伯爵是卢森堡最勤勉的贵族之一，是一位以军事理论见长的将军，但对于艺术他却是一个最庸俗的外行。母亲就不同了，她本人就画得很好，她为了不能保存这样名贵的一幅画，就把它送给我挂在这儿，这样可以减少一些伯爵的不愉快。马瑟夫先生的画像是格洛斯画的，喏，就是这一幅。请原谅我谈起了家事，但既然您肯赏脸让我把您介绍给伯爵，我就把这件事告诉您，免得您对这幅画产生误会。这幅画好象有一种魔力，因为我母亲每次到这儿来，总要看看它，而每一次看它就非哭不可。伯爵和伯爵夫人一生中惟有这一件事不和，他们虽然结婚已二十多年了，却仍象新婚那天一样恩爱和睦。” 
基督山迅速地瞟了阿尔贝一眼，象是要寻找他的话外之音，但这个青年人的话显然是很直率地从他的心里说出来的。 
“现在，”阿尔贝说道，“我全部的宝藏您都见到了，请允许我把它们献给您，虽然都是些毫无价值的东西。请把这里当作您自己的家好了，请随便一些，并请您同我一起去见一下马尔塞夫先生，我在罗马已写信详细告诉过他您对我的帮助，我已对他讲您将光临的消息。我敢说，伯爵和伯爵夫人都很希望能亲自向您道谢。我知道，您对于应酬多少有点厌烦了。见识过这么多事物的水手辛巴德对于家庭生活是不会怎么感兴趣的。可是，巴黎人的生活就在于彼此来往的应酬上，，我现在的提议就是踏入这种生活的开始，请接受吧。” 
基督山鞠了一躬，并没回答，他接受了这个建议，既没有表露出热情，也没显示出不快，只当这是社会上的一种习俗，每个绅士都应该把这看作是一种义务。阿尔贝叫他的仆人进来，吩咐他去通报马尔塞夫先生和夫人：说基督山伯爵已经到了。阿尔贝和伯爵跟在他的后面。当他们走到前厅的时候，看见门框上挂着一面盾牌，盾牌上的图案极其华丽，和房间里其它的陈设很相称，这一点足以证明这个纹章的主人的重要性了。基督山停下来全神贯注地看着。 
“七只浅蓝色的燕子，”他说，“这无疑是您的家族纹章吧？我对纹章虽有点研究，能略做辨别，但对于家谱学却很不了解。我是一个新封的伯爵，这个头衔是在托斯卡纳依靠圣爱蒂埃总督的帮忙弄来的，要不是他们说这是旅行所必需的，我本来还不高兴来这一套呢。但是，一个人出门在外，马车的坐垫底下，总有一些想避开海关关员搜查的东西的。原谅我向您提出了这样的一个问题。” 
“这没什么失礼的，”马尔塞夫非常自信地答道。“您猜对了。这是我家的纹章，也就是说，是我父亲这一族的，但您也看到了，这旁边有一面盾，上面有红色的直线和一座银色的塔楼，那是我母亲家族的。从她那一边来说，我是西班牙人，但马尔塞夫这一族是法国人，而且我听说，是法国南部历史最悠久的家族之一。” 
“是的，”基督山答道，“这些纹章就可以证明，凡是武装去朝圣地的人，几乎都在他的武器上画着一个十字架或几只候鸟，十字架表示他们的光荣使命，候鸟则象征他们将要出发作漫长的旅行，并希望凭借虔敬的翅膀来完成它。您的祖先曾有人参加过十字军，而即使只参加了圣路易所领导的那一次，也已可追溯到十三世纪，那也算是历史相当悠久了。” 
“可能是吧，？马尔塞夫说道，“我父亲的书房里有一本家族谱，您一看就可以完全明白的。我曾在那本族谱上作过批注，要是身齐和乔库尔看了，对于他们的研究一定大有裨益的。我现在已不再想那些事了，可是我必须告诉您，在我们这个平民政府的治理之下，我们对于这些事情又开始极大地关注起来。” 
“哦，那么，你们的政府还是另外挑选一些旧事旧物来做微章的好，象我刚才所注意到的那种纪念品，和纹章是毫无关系的。至于您，子爵，”基督山继续对马尔塞夫说道，“您比政府还要幸福，因为府上的纹章真是漂亮极了，看了引人入胜。是的，您的父母是罗旺斯和西班牙两地的贵族。这就说明了我看到的那幅画像，我所钦慕的那种微黑的肤色，正是高贵的迦太罗尼亚的特征。” 
伯爵这一番话显然说得非常客气，要想猜透他话里所隐藏的讽刺意味，得具有身狄波斯或斯芬克斯的洞察力才行。马尔塞夫用一个微笑向他道了谢，就推开了挂着盾牌的那扇门，这扇门，我们已经说过，是通客厅的。在客厅最引人注目的一面墙上，又有一幅肖像画。画上是一个男人，年龄在三十五到三十八岁之间，身穿一套军官制服，佩戴着金银双重肩章，由此可见官衔很高；他的脖子上挂着荣誉军团的缎带，表明他曾当过司令官；在胸部，右面挂着一枚武将荣誉勋章，左面挂的是一枚查理三世的大十字勋章，这说明画上的这个人曾参加过希腊和西班牙的战争，或曾在那两国完成过某项外交使命，所以才得到了这个勋章。 
基督山对于这幅画像的注意并不亚于刚才的那一幅，他正在仔细观看的时候，一扇侧门打开了，迎面而来的正是马尔塞夫伯爵本人。马尔塞夫伯爵年约四十到四十五岁。但他看上去至少已有五十岁了，头发理成军式的，剪得很短，他那漆黑的胡须和漆黑的眉毛与他那几乎已全白的头发形成了鲜明的对照。他身穿便服，纽扣眼上佩戴着他所有的各种勋章的缎带。这个人以一种略带急促但相当庄严的步子走进房来。基督山眼看着他向自己走过来，而他自己却一动也没动。他的脚似乎已被钉在了地面上，正如他的目光盯在了马尔塞夫伯爵身上一样。 
“父亲，”那青年人说道，“我很荣幸能把基督山伯爵阁下介绍给您，他就是我以前跟您说过的，在我最危急的关头侥幸遇见的那位义士。” 
“欢迎之至，阁下，”马尔塞夫伯爵一边说，一边微笑着向基督山致意，“阁下保全了我家惟一的继承人，这种恩情是值得我们永远感激不尽的。” 
马尔塞夫伯爵一边说，一边指了指一张椅子，他自己则坐在窗口对面的一张椅子上。基督山在马尔塞夫指给他的那个座位上坐了下来，他坐的姿势恰巧使自己隐藏在了在鹅绒大窗帘的阴影里，在那儿，他从伯爵那张劳累忧虑的脸上，看到了时间用一条条皱纹记录下的一个人的全部内心隐痛。 
“伯爵夫人，”马尔塞夫说道。“在接到通报，知道您已经光临的时候，正在梳妆，她很快就会到客厅里来的。” 
“我觉得非常荣幸，”基督山答道，“能在我到巴黎的第一天就拜会到一位命运之神对他很垂青，功名并重的人。那么在米提贾平原上，或阿脱拉斯山区里，是不是还有一个元帅的权位在等着您呢？” 
“哦，”马尔塞夫回答说，脸上微微有点发红，“我已经退伍了，阁下。我曾在布蒙元帅的手下作战，在复辟以后被封为贵族。我本来有希望得到更高的爵位，但如果还是拿破仑当政的话，谁又能料得后来的情形会怎么样呢？七月革命的功绩似乎就在于它的忘恩负义，尤其是对那些在帝国时期以前就已为国效劳的军人忘恩负义。所以我提出了辞职。一个人在战场上拼杀多年以后，一旦回到客厅里，简直连怎样在光滑的地板上走路都不会了。我挂起了剑，投身到政治里。我致力于实业，我研究各种实用的工艺。在我二十年的军队生活里，常常想这样做，但那时我没有时间。” 
“贵国人民之所以能优于任何其他各国就是因为有这种精神的缘故，”基督山回答道。“象您这样家境富裕，出身高贵的一位爵士，竟肯去当一名小兵，一步步地得以升迁，这已经实属罕见了，而在您身为将军，法国贵族，荣誉军团的司令官以后，又肯从头开始第二种职业，心中别无任何其他的希望，只求有一天能有益于您的同胞，这实在是值得赞美的，不，简直是太崇高了。” 
阿尔贝在一旁听着，很是惊异，他从来没有看见基督山这样热情奔放过。 
“唉！”这位生客继续说道，无疑是想驱散马尔塞夫额头上的那一片淡淡的阴云，“我们在意大利就不会这样做，我们按照原有的阶级或种族长大，我们沿着前一代人的路线前进，常常也是同样的碌碌无为，终生一事无成。” 
“但是，阁下，”马尔塞夫伯爵说道，“象您这样的天才，在意大利是不足以施展的，法国以张开她的双臂在欢迎您，请您响应她的呼唤吧。法国也许并不是对全世界都忘恩负义的，她待她自己的子女不好，但她对客人却永远是欢迎的。” 
“啊，父亲！”阿尔贝微笑着说道，“您显然还不了解基督山伯爵阁下，他厌弃一切荣誉，只要有他的护照上所写的那个头衔就满足了。” 
“这句话太公道了，”客人回答说，“我生平从来没听到过这样公道的评语。” 
“您可以自由选择您的人生道路。”马尔塞夫伯爵叹了一口气说道，“而您选中了那条铺满鲜花的路。” 
“一点不错，阁下。”基督山微笑说道，他的这个微笑是画家都无法用画笔表现出来的，心理学家也无法分析出来的。 
“我要不是怕您疲劳的话，”将军说道，显然，伯爵的这种态度使他很高兴，“我会带您到众议院去的。今天那儿有一场辩论，凡是不熟悉我们这些近代参议员的外国人，去看看一定会觉得非常有趣的。” 
“阁下，假如您改天再提出这个邀请的话，我会十分感激的，但刚才蒙您允许我拜见伯爵夫人，所以您的盛意我领了，等下一次再接受吧。” 
“啊！我母亲来了。”子爵大声说道。 
基督山急忙转过身来，只见马尔塞夫夫人正一动不动的站在客厅门口，她脸色苍白。她站着的这个门口，正和她丈夫进来的那扇门相对，她的手不知为什么搁在那镀金的门把上，直到基督山转过来的时候，才让它无力地垂了下来。她在那儿已站了一会儿，已听到了来客的最后几句话。后者急忙起身向伯爵夫人行礼，伯爵夫人无言地欠了欠身。 
“啊！天啊，夫人！”伯爵说道，“你不舒服吗，还是房间里太热，你受不了？” 
“您身体不舒服吗，妈妈？”子爵大声叫道，向美塞苔丝跳过去。 
她微笑着谢谢他们两人。“不，”她答道，“只是我初次见到把我们从眼泪和悲哀里拯救出来的人，心里未免有点激动。阁下，”伯爵夫人象一位王后般仪态大方地走了过来，继续说道，“我儿子的生命是您赐的，为了这，我祝福您。现在，我更感谢您给了我一个亲自向你道谢的机会。我的感谢，象我的祝福一样，都是来自我的内心深处的。” 
伯爵又鞠了一躬，但这次鞠得比前一次更低了。他的脸色显得比美塞苔丝更苍白。“夫人，”他说道，“伯爵阁下和您为一件举手之劳的事都答谢得太客气了。救一个人的命，免得他的父亲悲伤，他的母亲哀痛，算不得是什么义举，只不过是一件从人道上讲应该做的事情而已。” 
对于这几句说得极其温婉有礼的话，马尔塞夫夫人答道：“我的儿子真是幸运极了，阁下，他竟能结识您这样一位朋友，我感谢上帝促成了这件事。”于是美塞苔丝抬眼向天，面露极其热烈感恩的表情，伯爵似乎觉得在这一对美丽的眼睛里看见了泪水，马尔塞夫伯爵走近她的身边。 
“夫人，”他说道，“我要走了，我已经向伯爵阁下道过歉了，我请你再代我道歉一次。两点钟开始开会，现在已经三点钟了，而我今天还要发言。” 
“去吧，那么，我一定尽力使我们的贵客忘记你已出门！” 
伯爵夫人仍然用多情的口吻回答说。“伯爵阁下，”她又转向基督山说道，“您可以赏光在舍下玩一天吗？” 
“相信我，夫人，我非常感激您的盛情，但我今天早晨是坐我的旅行马车到府上来的。我还不知道我在巴黎要住的是一间什么样的房子，甚至还不知道它在哪儿，我承认这只是一件小事，但心里总觉得有点不安。” 
“至少，我们下一次总可以有这种荣幸吧，”伯爵夫人说道，“您肯答应吗？” 
基督山欠了欠身，没有回答，但这个姿势可以算是答应了。 
“我不耽搁您了，阁下，”伯爵夫人又说道，“我不愿意让我们的感激变成失礼或勉强。” 
“亲爱的伯爵，”阿尔贝说道，“我当尽力来报答您在罗马待我的一片好意，在您自己的马车还没有备妥以前，您可以用我那辆双人马车。” 
“我谢您的好意，子爵，”基督山伯爵答道，“但我想伯都西先生大概会好好地利用我给他的那四个半钟头的时间的，我在门口应该是能找到一辆车子的。” 
阿尔贝熟悉了伯爵的处事态度，他知道，象尼罗王一样，他特地要做那些常人办不到的事情。所以伯爵现在无论干什么事来，也不会使他惊奇了。但为了亲眼判断伯爵的命令究竟执行得怎么样，他陪他到了府邸门口。基督山没有猜错。他一走进马尔塞夫伯爵的前厅，一个听差，就是在罗马送伯爵的名片给两个青年并代他致意的那个立刻急步走了出去，当他到达大门口的时候，这位不凡的旅行家发觉他的马车已在等候他了。那是一辆高碌式的双座四轮马车，马和挽具原是属于德拉克的，全巴黎人都知道，昨天有出一万八千法廊他还不肯卖呢。 
“阁下，”伯爵对阿尔贝说道，“我不请您陪我回去了，因为我现在只能给您看到一个匆匆布置起来的住处，而我，您知道，一向是以办事迅速闻名的。所以，请给我一天的时间再来请您过去，我那时一定不会有招待不周的地方的。” 
“假如您要我等上一天，伯爵，我知道我将会，看到什么，我看到的将不是一所房子，而是一座宫殿。必定有某个神灵在为您服务。” 
“好吧！您只管去宣传这种念头吧，”基督山回答说，他的一只脚已踏上了那辆华丽的嵌天鹅绒的踏级，“那可以使我在太太们中间发生点影响。” 
他一边说，一边跳进马车里，车门一关，马车就疾驰而去。 
车子虽然跑得很快，他还是注意到了，他离开时马尔塞夫夫人的那个房间的窗帘，曾几乎令人难以觉察地动了一下。 
阿尔贝回去找他的母亲，发觉她已在女宾休息室里了，她斜靠在一张天鹅绒的大圈椅上，整个房间是这样的阴暗，只有那松地钉在帷幕上的金银箔剪成的小饰物和镀金镜框的四角，才给了房间一点亮光。阿尔贝看不到伯爵夫人的脸，她的头上已蒙了一张薄薄的面纱，象是有一层云雾笼罩了她的脸。但他觉察出她的声音似乎有些变了。花瓶里玫瑰花和紫薇花散发着芬芳的香味，但在花香之中，他可以辨别出一股刺鼻的嗅盐的气味，他又注意到伯爵夫人的嗅瓶已从鲛皮盒子里取出来放在壁架上的一只镂花银杯里。所以他一进来就用一种担心的口吻高声说道：“妈妈，我出去的时候您不舒服了吗？” 
“不，不，阿尔贝！你知道，这些玫瑰，夜来香和香橙花，初开时候香气是很浓的，开始总有点让人受不了。” 
“那么，妈妈，”阿尔贝垃了拉铃说道，“要把这些花搬到前厅里去吧。您准是有点儿不舒服了，刚才您进来的时候，脸色很苍白。” 
“我脸色很苍白吗，阿尔贝？” 
“是的，您配上那种苍白显得更美了，妈，但爸爸和我还是不能不为这苍白而担心。” 
“你爸爸也跟你说这些了吗？”美塞苔丝急切地问道。 
“没有，夫人，但您不记得他问你的话了吗？” 
“是的，我记得。”伯爵夫人回答说。 
一个仆人走了进来，是阿尔贝拉铃召来的。 
“把这些花搬到前厅更衣室去，”子爵说。“伯爵夫人闻了不舒服。” 
仆人按他的吩咐去行事了。接着房间里沉默了好一会儿，一直到所有的花都搬完。“这个基督山是个什么名字？”伯爵夫人等仆人把最后一瓶花搬走，才问道。“是一个姓呢，还是一处产业的名字，或只是一个头衔？” 
“我相信，妈，这只是一个头衔，伯爵在托斯卡纳多岛海里买下了一个岛子，正如他今天所告诉您的，就把那个岛作为他的封地。您知道，这种事情佛罗伦萨的圣爱蒂埃，巴马的对乔奇，康士但丁，甚至马耳他的贵族都做过。而且，他并非硬要争什么贵族的名义，他自称他的伯爵头衔是侥幸得来的，但一般的罗马人，都以为伯爵是一个身份非常高贵的人。” 
“他的举止态度真令人钦佩，”伯爵夫人说道，“至少，以刚才他在这儿的短暂停留而论，我可以这样判断。” 
“那可说是完美无缺，妈，英国，西班牙和德国虽号称是欧洲最高傲的贵族中的三大领袖贵族，但在我所认识的人当中，没有一个人能比得上他。” 
伯爵夫人沉思了一会儿，然后，又略微犹豫了一下，说道：“你曾经，我亲爱的阿尔贝，我是站在一个母亲的立场上问这个问题的，你曾经到基督山先生的家里去看过。你的目光一向很敏锐，又懂得很多世故，比你同龄的人都机警些，你认为伯爵是否真的表里如一？” 
“他外表怎样？” 
“你刚才自己说的呀，他是个身份很高贵的人。” 
“我告诉您，亲爱的妈妈，人家也是这么说的。” 
“但你自己的看法如何呢，阿尔贝？” 
“我只能告诉您，我对他还没有什么明确的看法。但我认为他可能是个马耳他人。” 
“我不是问他是哪国人，而是问他是怎样的一个人。” 
“啊！他是怎样的一个人！那就是另外一回事了。我目睹了许多和他有关的惊人的事情，所以要是您叫我把心里话照直说出来的话，我就会说：我真的把他看作是拜伦笔下的一个身世极其悲惨的主角了，他有点象曼弗雷特，因为分享不到家族的遗产，所以就不得不凭他的冒险天才自己去寻找致富之道，因此就无视社会的法律。” 
“你是说” 
“我是说，基督山是地中海中的一个岛，岛上没有居民，也没有驻军，是各国的走私贩子和各地的海盗经常去的地方。谁知道这不折不扣的实干家会不会付些保护费给他们的地主呢？” 
“那是可能的。”伯爵夫人若有所思地说道。 
“别管他是不是走私贩子呢，”青年继续说道，“您已经见过他了，我的好妈妈，想必您也一定同意，基督山伯爵是一位非凡的人物，他在巴黎社交界一定会获得巨大成功的。嘿，就是今天早晨，在我那儿，这还是他初次踏进社交界，他就已经使我们每一个人都感到非常惊异了，甚至连夏多·勒诺都不例外！” 
“你觉得伯爵有多大年纪了？”美苦蒂丝问道，显然觉得这个问题很重要。 
“三十五六岁吧，妈。” 
“这么年轻！不可能的。”美塞苔丝说道，这句话一方面是回答阿尔贝的，而同时也是在对自己讲。 
“但这是真的。有好几次，他曾对我说，当然是无意中流露出来的，某某时候他五岁，某某时候他十岁，某某时候十二岁。而我，由于好奇，就把这些细节都牢牢地记住了，再把各个日期一对照，发觉他从没说错过。所以，我敢肯定，这位年龄不明的奇人，是三十五岁。而且，妈，您看他的眼睛多么锐利，他的头发多么黑，而他的额头，虽然苍白一些，却还毫无皱纹，他不但强壮，而且还很年轻呢。” 
伯爵夫人的头垂了下去，象埋在了一阵极其痛苦的思想里。“这个人对你很友善是吗，阿尔贝？”她问这句话的时候打了一个神经质的寒颤。 
“我想是这样的。” 
“你，你喜欢他吗？” 
“咦，他很讨我欢喜，尽管弗兰兹·伊皮奈一直想说服我，说他是个某个世界回来的人。” 
伯爵夫人惊恐地打了一个寒颤。“阿尔贝，”由于情绪激动，她说话的音调都变了，“你以前每结交一个新朋友，我总要来过问一下的。现在你是个大人了，都能给我个忠告了，但我还要对你说，阿尔贝，要谨慎。” 
“噢，亲爱的妈妈，为了您的忠告对我有用，我必须要知道我究竟怕什么。伯爵从不玩牌，他只喝清水，里面加一点白葡萄酒，他很有钱，要不是存心想嘲弄我，是决不会向我借钱的。那么，他对我有什么可怕的地方呢？” 
“你说得对，”伯爵夫人说道，“我这种担心是不应该有的，尤其是对一个曾救过你性命的人。你爸爸是怎样接待他的，阿尔贝？我们对伯爵在礼貌上就应该更殷勤一些。马尔塞夫先生有的时候心神不定，他总想着他的正事，他或许在无意之中”爸爸的态度再好也没有的了，妈，”阿尔贝说道，“而且，还不止呢，他似乎很喜欢伯爵对他说的那几句恭维话，伯爵的话说得非常巧妙，而态度之安闲，就象是他已经认识他有三十年了似的。每一句话都象是一支搔着痒处的小箭，爸爸心里一定很喜欢的，”阿尔贝笑了一声，又说道，“所以他们分手的时候，已成了最要好的朋友了，爸爸甚至还想带他到众议院里去听演讲呢。” 
伯爵夫人没有说话。她已深深地沉入了一种思索之中，她的两眼渐渐地闭了起来。站在她面前的这个青年温柔地望着她，他这时所流露出来的母子间的亲情，简直比那些母亲还年轻美丽的小孩子更加真挚。后来，看到她的眼睛已经闭上了，听到了她发的均匀的呼吸声，他相信她已经睡熟了，就踮着脚尖离开房间，万分小心地把门拉上。“这个怪人！”他摇摇头自言自语地说道，“我早就说他会在这儿轰动一时的，我可以用一只万灵的温度计测出他的效果。连我的妈妈都注意到他啦，所以他肯定会是个引人瞩目的人物。” 
他下楼向马厩走去，想到基督山伯爵这次买马车又大显身手，以致把他的栗色的马在行家的眼睛里降为了二流贷色，心里略微有点不高兴。“千真万确，”他说，“人是不平等的，我一定要请父亲在参议院里讨论这个题目。” 
Chapter 42 Monsieur Bertuccio
 MEANWHILE the count had arrived at his house; it had taken him six minutes to perform the distance, but these six minutes were sufficient to induce twenty young men who knew the price of the equipage they had been unable to purchase themselves, to put their horses in a gallop in order to see the rich foreigner who could afford to give 20,000 francs apiece for his horses. The house Ali had chosen, and which was to serve as a town residence to Monte Cristo, was situated on the right hand as you ascend the Champs Elysées. A thick clump of trees and shrubs rose in the centre, and masked a portion of the front; around this shrubbery two alleys, like two arms, extended right and left, and formed a carriage-drive from the iron gates to a double portico, on every step of which stood a porcelain vase. filled with flowers. This house, isolated from the rest, had, besides the main entrance, another in the Rue Ponthieu. Even before the coachman had hailed the concièrge, the massy gates rolled on their hinges--they had seen the Count coming, and at Paris, as everywhere else, he was served with the rapidity of lightning. The coachman entered and traversed the half-circle without slackening his speed, and the gates were closed ere the wheels had ceased to sound on the gravel. The carriage stopped at the left side of the portico, two men presented themselves at the carriage-window; the one was Ali, who, smiling with an expression of the most sincere joy, seemed amply repaid by a mere look from Monte Cristo. The other bowed respectfully, and offered his arm to assist the count in descending. "Thanks, M. Bertuccio," said the count, springing lightly up the three steps of the portico; "and the notary?" 
"He is in the small salon, excellency," returned Bertuccio. 
"And the cards I ordered to be engraved as soon as you knew the number of the house?" 
"Your excellency, it is done already. I have been myself to the best engraver of the Palais Royal, who did the plate in my presence. The first card struck off was taken, according to your orders, to the Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin, No. 7; the others are on the mantle-piece of your excellency's bedroom." 
"Good; what o'clock is it?" 
"Four o'clock." Monte Cristo gave his hat, cane, and gloves to the same French footman who had called his carriage at the Count of Morcerf's, and then he passed into the small salon, preceded by Bertuccio, who showed him the way. "These are but indifferent marbles in this ante-chamber," said Monte Cristo. "I trust all this will soon be taken away." Bertuccio bowed. As the steward had said, the notary awaited him in the small salon. He was a simple-looking lawyer's clerk, elevated to the extraordinary dignity of a provincial scrivener. "You are the notary empowered to sell the country house that I wish to purchase, monsieur?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"Yes, count," returned the notary. 
"Is the deed of sale ready?" 
"Yes, count." 
"Have you brought it?" 
"Here it is." 
"Very well; and where is this house that I purchase?" asked the count carelessly, addressing himself half to Bertuccio, half to the notary. The steward made a gesture that signified, "I do not know." The notary looked at the count with astonishment. "What!" said he, "does not the count know where the house he purchases is situated?" 
"No," returned the count. 
"The count does not know?" 
"How should I know? I have arrived from Cadiz this morning. I have never before been at Paris, and it is the first time I have ever even set my foot in France." 
"Ah, that is different; the house you purchase is at Auteuil." At these words Bertuccio turned pale. "And where is Auteuil?" asked the count. 
"Close by here, monsieur," replied the notary--"a little beyond Passy; a charming situation, in the heart of the Bois de Boulogne." 
"So near as that?" said the Count; "but that is not in the country. What made you choose a house at the gates of Paris, M. Bertuccio?" 
"I," cried the steward with a strange expression. "His excellency did not charge me to purchase this house. If his excellency will recollect--if he will think"-- 
"Ah, true," observed Monte Cristo; "I recollect now. I read the advertisement in one of the papers, and was tempted by the false title, 'a country house.'" 
"It is not yet too late," cried Bertuccio, eagerly; "and if your excellency will intrust me with the commission, I will find you a better at Enghien, at Fontenay-aux-Roses, or at Bellevue." 
"Oh, no," returned Monte Cristo negligently; "since I have this, I will keep it." 
"And you are quite right," said the notary, who feared to lose his fee. "It is a charming place, well supplied with spring-water and fine trees; a comfortable habitation, although abandoned for a long time, without reckoning the furniture, which, although old, is yet valuable, now that old things are so much sought after. I suppose the count has the tastes of the day?" 
"To be sure," returned Monte Cristo; "it is very convenient, then?" 
"It is more--it is magnificent." 
"Peste! let us not lose such an opportunity," returned Monte Cristo. "The deed, if you please, Mr. Notary." And he signed it rapidly, after having first run his eye over that part of the deed in which were specified the situation of the house and the names of the proprietors. 
"Bertuccio," said he, "give fifty-five thousand francs to monsieur." The steward left the room with a faltering step, and returned with a bundle of bank-notes, which the notary counted like a man who never gives a receipt for money until after he is sure it is all there. "And now," demanded the count, "are all the forms complied with?" 
"All, sir." 
"Have you the keys?" 
"They are in the hands of the concièrge, who takes care of the house, but here is the order I have given him to install the count in his new possessions." 
"Very well;" and Monte Cristo made a sign with his hand to the notary, which said, "I have no further need of you; you may go." 
"But," observed the honest notary, "the count is, I think, mistaken; it is only fifty thousand francs, everything included." 
"And your fee?" 
"Is included in this sum." 
"But have you not come from Auteuil here?" 
"Yes, certainly." 
"Well, then, it is but fair that you should be paid for your loss of time and trouble," said the count; and he made a gesture of polite dismissal. The notary left the room backwards, and bowing down to the ground; it was the first time he had ever met a similar client. "See this gentleman out," said the count to Bertuccio. And the steward followed the notary out of the room. Scarcely was the count alone, when he drew from his pocket a book closed with a lock, and opened it with a key which he wore round his neck, and which never left him. After having sought for a few minutes, he stopped at a leaf which had several notes, and compared them with the deed of sale, which lay on the table. "'Auteuil, Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28;' it is indeed the same," said he; "and now, am I to rely upon an avowal extorted by religious or physical terror? However, in an hour I shall know all. Bertuccio!" cried he, striking a light hammer with a pliant handle on a small gong. "Bertuccio!" The steward appeared at the door. "Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "did you never tell me that you had travelled in France?" 
"In some parts of France--yes, excellency." 
"You know the environs of Paris, then?" 
"No, excellency, no," returned the steward, with a sort of nervous trembling, which Monte Cristo, a connoisseur in all emotions, rightly attributed to great disquietude. 
"It is unfortunate," returned he, "that you have never visited the environs, for I wish to see my new property this evening, and had you gone with me, you could have given me some useful information." 
"To Auteuil!" cried Bertuccio, whose copper complexion became livid--"I go to Auteuil?" 
"Well, what is there surprising in that? When I live at Auteuil, you must come there, as you belong to my service." Bertuccio hung down his head before the imperious look of his master, and remained motionless, without making any answer. "Why, what has happened to you?--are you going to make me ring a second time for the carriage?" asked Monte Cristo, in the same tone that Louis XIV pronounced the famous, "I have been almost obliged to wait." Bertuccio made but one bound to the ante-chamber, and cried in a hoarse voice--"His excellency's horses!" Monte Cristo wrote two or three notes, and, as he sealed the last, the steward appeared. "Your excellency's carriage is at the door," said he. 
"Well, take your hat and gloves," returned Monte Cristo. 
"Am I to accompany you, your excellency?" cried Bertuccio. 
"Certainly, you must give the orders, for I intend residing at the house." It was unexampled for a servant of the count's to dare to dispute an order of his, so the steward, without saying a word, followed his master, who got into the carriage, and signed to him to follow, which he did, taking his place respectfully on the front seat.  
这会儿，伯爵已经到家了。这一段路走了六分钟。但这六分钟时间已足够吸引不下二十个青年人放马疾驰追上来，来一睹这位有钱的外国人，因为他们都晓得这辆马车的价钱，他们自己没能力买，却很想看看究竟是谁能花得起一万法郎买一匹马。阿里所选中的这座房子座落在香榭丽舍大道的右边，这是基督山在城里日常生活的住宅。前院中央一丛茂密的树木，把房屋的正面给遮住了，在树木的两旁，有两条侧径，象两条手臂，一条在左，一条在右，从铁门入口处分手包抄到门廊前面，以便马车通过，门廓的每一级台阶上都摆放着一大瓷盆花。这座房子孤零零的周围没有邻居，除了大门之外，在邦修路上还有一个侧门。车夫还没等喊门房，那两扇笨重的大门就已经打开了，原来他们已看见了伯爵的马车，在巴黎，就象在其他地方一样，他们都是以闪电般的速度来侍奉伯爵。石子路上车轮的声音还没停下来，大门已经关上了。马车在门廊的左边停住，立刻有两个人到车窗前面来迎候。一个是阿里，脸上带着最真诚的愉快的笑容，似乎只要基督山对他看一眼，他就觉得十分满足了。另外那一个则毕恭毕敬地鞠了一躬，然后伸手扶伯爵下车。 
“谢谢，贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说着，一边轻快地跳上了门廊的三个台阶，“那个公证人呢？” 
“他在小客厅里，大人。”贝尔图乔回答说。 
“还有，我叫你把房子找好以后就马上去印名片。印了吗？” 
“伯爵阁下，已经印好了。我亲自到王宫市场去找的那儿最好的刻工，亲自看着他刻版。印出来的第一张名片，就遵照您的吩咐，送到了安顿大马路七号腾格拉尔男爵阁下府上了，其余的都在大人卧室的壁炉架上。” 
“很好。现在几点钟了？” 
“四点钟。” 
基督山把他的帽子，手杖和手套都交给了那个在马尔塞夫伯爵家里招呼马车的法国听差，然后由贝尔图乔在前领路，走进了小客厅里。 
“这间前厅里的大理石像太普通了，”基督山说。“我希望不久就可以叫人全部搬走。” 
贝尔图乔鞠了一躬。正如这位管家所说的，那个公证人正在小客厅里等候伯爵。他虽然只不过是一个平庸的律师事务所里的职员，但却故意装出一副乡下律师所特有的那种庄严的神气。 
“先生，您就是受托把那座乡村别墅卖给我的公证人吗？”基督山问道。 
“是的，伯爵阁下。”那公证人回答说。 
“契约写好了吗？” 
“写好了，伯爵阁下。” 
“您把它带来了吗？” 
“带来了。” 
“好极了，我买的这座房子在什么地方？”伯爵随意地问道，这句话一半是对贝尔图乔说的，一半是对公证人说的。管家做了一个手势，表示“我不知道。”那公证人惊异地望着伯爵。“什么！”他说，“伯爵阁下难道不知道他买的房子在什么地方吗？” 
“不知道。”伯爵回答说。 
“伯爵阁下不知道？” 
“我怎么会知道？我今天早晨才从卡迪斯来。我以前又没来过巴黎，这是生平第一次踏上法国领土！” 
“啊！那就不同了，您买的那座房子在欧特伊村。”听到这句话，贝尔图乔的脸立刻变白了。 
“欧特伊村在什么地方？”伯爵问道。 
“离这里只有两步路，阁下，”那公证人答道，“出帕西门以后没有多远，很幽静，在布洛涅大道的中央。” 
“这么近？”伯爵说道，“那岂不是不在乡下罗。你怎么会选中一所就在巴黎城门口的房子呢，贝尔图乔先生？” 
“我！”管家带着一种诧异的表情大声叫道。“伯爵阁下没有叫我买这所房子呀，要是伯爵阁下可以回想一下” 
“啊，不错，”基督山说道，“我想起来了。我在一家报纸上看到了一则广告，广告上说是‘一座乡村别墅’，我就被那个虚名迷住了。” 
“现在还来得及，”贝尔图乔赶紧说道，“假如大人把这事托付给我，我可以给您在昂琴，写特奈或贝利维找到一座更好的。” 
“噢，不用了，”基督山无所谓似地答道，“既然已经买下了，就算了吧。” 
“您说得很对，”那公证人说道，他深恐得不到那笔佣金。 
“那所房子的地点很幽静，有流水，有树木，虽然已荒废了很长时间，但仍是一个很舒适的住处。所以即使不把家具算在内，也是划算的，家具虽旧了，可还是很值钱的，很多人现在都想收集古董呢。我想伯爵阁下也有这种嗜好吧？” 
“一点不错，”基督山答道，“旧家具用起来很方便，是不是？”不止方便，而且富丽堂皇。” 
“真的，那我们不要错过这个机会，”基督山答道。“请您把契约拿来，公证人先生。”于是他匆匆地把契约上所写的房屋地点和房主姓名瞟了一眼，迅速签了字。“贝尔图乔，”他说，“拿五万五千法郎给这位先生。”管家摇摇晃晃地走了出去，不一会拿回来一叠钞票，于是那公证人就仔细地数起钞票来，似乎佣金不做一番清点，他是决不肯收条的。 
“现在，”伯爵问道，“手续都全了吗？” 
“都全了，伯爵阁下。” 
“钥匙您带来了没有？” 
“钥匙在门房手里，那所房子由他在照看着。这儿有我写给他的一张条子伯爵阁下可以查，拿了这张条子到新居去。” 
“好极了。”基督山对那公证人做了一个手势，等于在说，“我现在不再需要你了，你可以走了。” 
“但是，”那个诚实的公证人说道，“我想您大概是弄错了吧，伯爵阁下，一切包括在内，只要五万法郎就够了。” 
“您的手续费呢？” 
“已经包括在这笔钱里了。” 
“但您不是从欧特伊来的吗？” 
“当然是的。” 
“哦，那么，即使您劳神，又使您费了不少时间，这个报酬也是很公道的了。”伯爵说道，并做了一个很客气的手势表示谢意。那个公证人倒退着走出了房间，然后深深地鞠了一躬，这是他生平第一次遇见这样的主顾。 
“送这位先生出去。”伯爵对贝尔图乔说道。于是管家跟着那公证人走出了房间。 
当房间里只剩下伯爵一个人的时候，他立刻从口袋里摸出了一个皮夹子，上面有一把锁，他的脖子上挂着一枚昼夜不离身的钥匙，他用钥匙打开皮夹子的锁。翻了一会，忽然在一页上停住了，这上面记着几行字，他把这几行记录和放在桌子上的契约比较了一下，又想了一下，“‘欧特伊村芳丹街二十八号。’的确一样，”他说，“现在，我要把他的口供吓出来，但究竟是用宗教的力量好呢还是用物质的力量好？不管怎样一个钟头之内，我一切都会知道的。贝尔图乔！”他一面喊，一面用一把软把的木槌，敲了一下铜锣。“贝尔图乔，”管家立刻在门口出现了。“贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说，“你曾有一次告诉过我，说你在法国旅行过的吗？” 
“是的，大人，走过几个地方。” 
“那么你是熟悉巴黎近郊的罗？” 
“不，大人，不。”管家回答说，他的全身神经质般的颤抖了一下，基督山对喜怒哀乐的洞察可谓行家，一见便知道他内心里非常不安。 
“这就麻烦了，”他说道，“你竟从来没去近郊玩过，因为我今天傍晚想去看看我的新居，你陪我去的时候也许可以给我提供一点有用的情况呢。” 
“到欧特伊去！”贝尔图乔大声叫道，他那紫铜色的皮肤立刻变成了青白色，’要我到欧特伊去？” 
“哎，那有什么可大惊小怪的？你既然为我服务，我住在欧特伊的时候，你肯定要到那儿去的呀。” 
贝尔图乔一看见他主人目光威严，就急忙低下了头，一动不动地站着，也不回答。 
“咦，你怎么啦？你要我另外再叫人去吩咐备车吗？”基督山问道，他说这句话的语气，简直如同路易十四说的那句名言“这下又得叫我耐心等待了”一样。 
贝尔图乔三步两步就进了前厅，用一种嘶哑的声音大喊道，“给大人备车！” 
基督山写了两三封信，当他封上最后一封的时候，管家出现了。“大人的马车已在门口了。”他说道。 
“嗯，去拿你的帽子和手套吧。”基督山回答说。 
“我陪您去吗，伯爵阁下？”贝尔图乔大声问道。 
“当然罗，你必须去告诉他们，因为我预备到那所房子里去住。” 
伯爵的仆人中从来没人敢违背他的命令，所以那位管家不再多说一句话了，只是跟在他的主人后面，伯爵先上车，然后示意叫他跟上来，于是他也上了车，毕恭毕敬地坐在前座上。 
Chapter 43 The House at Auteuil
 MONTE CRISTO noticed, as they descended the staircase, that Bertuccio signed himself in the Corsican manner; that is, had formed the sign of the cross in the air with his thumb, and as he seated himself in the carriage, muttered a short prayer. Any one but a man of exhaustless thirst for knowledge would have had pity on seeing the steward's extraordinary repugnance for the count's projected drive without the walls; but the Count was too curious to let Bertuccio off from this little journey. In twenty minutes they were at Auteuil; the steward's emotion had continued to augment as they entered the village. Bertuccio, crouched in the corner of the carriage, began to examine with a feverish anxiety every house they passed. "Tell them to stop at Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28," said the count, fixing his eyes on the steward, to whom he gave this order. Bertuccio's forehead was covered with perspiration; however, he obeyed, and, leaning out of the window, he cried to the coachman,--"Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28." No. 28 was situated at the extremity of the village; during the drive night had set in, and darkness gave the surroundings the artificial appearance of a scene on the stage. The carriage stopped, the footman sprang off the box, and opened the door. "Well," said the count, "you do not get out, M. Bertuccio--you are going to stay in the carriage, then? What are you thinking of this evening?" Bertuccio sprang out, and offered his shoulder to the count, who, this time, leaned upon it as he descended the three steps of the carriage. "Knock," said the count, "and announce me." Bertuccio knocked, the door opened, and the concièrge appeared. "What is it?" asked he. 
"It is your new master, my good fellow," said the footman. And he held out to the concièrge the notary's order. 
"The house is sold, then?" demanded the concièrge; "and this gentleman is coming to live here?" 
"Yes, my friend," returned the count; "and I will endeavor to give you no cause to regret your old master." 
"Oh, monsieur," said the concièrge, "I shall not have much cause to regret him, for he came here but seldom; it is five years since he was here last, and he did well to sell the house, for it did not bring him in anything at all." 
"What was the name of your old master?" said Monte Cristo. 
"The Marquis of Saint-Méran. Ah, I am sure he has not sold the house for what he gave for it." 
"The Marquis of Saint-Méran!" returned the count. "The name is not unknown to me; the Marquis of Saint-Méran!" and he appeared to meditate. 
"An old gentleman," continued the concièrge, "a stanch follower of the Bourbons; he had an only daughter, who married M. de Villefort, who had been the king's attorney at N?mes, and afterwards at Versailles." Monte Cristo glanced at Bertuccio, who became whiter than the wall against which he leaned to prevent himself from falling. "And is not this daughter dead?" demanded Monte Cristo; "I fancy I have heard so." 
"Yes, monsieur, one and twenty years ago; and since then we have not seen the poor marquis three times." 
"Thanks, thanks," said Monte Cristo, judging from the steward's utter prostration that he could not stretch the cord further without danger of breaking it. "Give me a light." 
"Shall I accompany you, monsieur?" 
"No, it is unnecessary; Bertuccio will show me a light." And Monte Cristo accompanied these words by the gift of two gold pieces, which produced a torrent of thanks and blessings from the concièrge. "Ah, monsieur," said he, after having vainly searched on the mantle-piece and the shelves, "I have not got any candles." 
"Take one of the carriage-lamps, Bertuccio," said the count, "and show me the apartments." The steward obeyed in silence, but it was easy to see, from the manner in which the hand that held the light trembled, how much it cost him to obey. They went over a tolerably large ground-floor; a second floor consisted of a salon, a bathroom, and two bedrooms; near one of the bedrooms they came to a winding staircase that led down to the garden. 
"Ah, here is a private staircase," said the count; "that is convenient. Light me, M. Bertuccio, and go first; we will see where it leads to." 
"Monsieur," replied Bertuccio, "it leads to the garden." 
"And, pray, how do you know that?" 
"It ought to do so, at least." 
"Well, let us be sure of that." Bertuccio sighed, and went on first; the stairs did, indeed, lead to the garden. At the outer door the steward paused. "Go on, Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count. But he who was addressed stood there, stupefied, bewildered, stunned; his haggard eyes glanced around, as if in search of the traces of some terrible event, and with his clinched hands he seemed striving to shut out horrible recollections. "Well," insisted the Count. "No, no," cried Bertuccio, setting down the lantern at the angle of the interior wall. "No, monsieur, it is impossible; I can go no farther." 
"What does this mean?" demanded the irresistible voice of Monte Cristo. 
"Why, you must see, your excellency," cried the steward, "that this is not natural; that, having a house to purchase, you purchase it exactly at Auteuil, and that, purchasing it at Auteuil, this house should be No. 28, Rue de la Fontaine. Oh, why did I not tell you all? I am sure you would not have forced me to come. I hoped your house would have been some other one than this; as if there was not another house at Auteuil than that of the assassination!" 
"What, what!" cried Monte Cristo, stopping suddenly, "what words do you utter? Devil of a man, Corsican that you are--always mysteries or superstitions. Come, take the lantern, and let us visit the garden; you are not afraid of ghosts with me, I hope?" Bertuccio raised the lantern, and obeyed. The door, as it opened, disclosed a gloomy sky, in which the moon strove vainly to struggle through a sea of clouds that covered her with billows of vapor which she illumined for an instant, only to sink into obscurity. The steward wished to turn to the left. "No, no, monsieur," said Monte Cristo. "What is the use of following the alleys? Here is a beautiful lawn; let us go on straight forwards." 
Bertuccio wiped the perspiration from his brow, but obeyed; however, he continued to take the left hand. Monte Cristo, on the contrary, took the right hand; arrived near a clump of trees, he stopped. The steward could not restrain himself. "Move, monsieur--move away, I entreat you; you are exactly in the spot!" 
"What spot?" 
"Where he fell." 
"My dear Monsieur Bertuccio," said Monte Cristo, laughing, "control yourself; we are not at Sartena or at Corte. This is not a Corsican arbor, but an English garden; badly kept, I own, but still you must not calumniate it for that." 
"Monsieur, I implore you do not stay there!" 
"I think you are going mad, Bertuccio," said the count coldly. "If that is the case, I warn you, I shall have you put in a lunatic asylum." 
"Alas, excellency," returned Bertuccio, joining his hands, and shaking his head in a manner that would have excited the count's laughter, had not thoughts of a superior interest occupied him, and rendered him attentive to the least revelation of this timorous conscience. "Alas, excellency, the evil has arrived!" 
"M. Bertuccio," said the count, "I am very glad to tell you, that while you gesticulate, you wring your hands and roll your eyes like a man possessed by a devil who will not leave him; and I have always observed, that the devil most obstinate to be expelled is a secret. I knew you were a Corsican. I knew you were gloomy, and always brooding over some old history of the vendetta; and I overlooked that in Italy, because in Italy those things are thought nothing of. But in France they are considered in very bad taste; there are gendarmes who occupy themselves with such affairs, judges who condemn, and scaffolds which avenge." Bertuccio clasped his hands, and as, in all these evolutions, he did not let fall the lantern, the light showed his pale and altered countenance. Monte Cristo examined him with the same look that, at Rome, he had bent upon the execution of Andrea, and then, in a tone that made a shudder pass through the veins of the poor steward,--"The Abbé Busoni, then told me an untruth," said he, "when, after his journey in France, in 1829, he sent you to me, with a letter of recommendation, in which he enumerated all your valuable qualities. Well, I shall write to the abbé; I shall hold him responsible for his protege's misconduct, and I shall soon know all about this assassination. Only I warn you, that when I reside in a country, I conform to all its code, and I have no wish to put myself within the compass of the French laws for your sake." 
"Oh, do not do that, excellency; I have always served you faithfully," cried Bertuccio, in despair. "I have always been an honest man, and, as far as lay in my power, I have done good." 
"I do not deny it," returned the count; "but why are you thus agitated. It is a bad sign; a quiet conscience does not occasion such paleness in the cheeks, and such fever in the hands of a man." 
"But, your excellency," replied Bertuccio hesitatingly, "did not the Abbé Busoni, who heard my confession in the prison at N?mes, tell you that I had a heavy burden upon my conscience?" 
"Yes; but as he said you would make an excellent steward, I concluded you had stolen--that was all." 
"Oh, your excellency," returned Bertuccio in deep contempt. 
"Or, as you are a Corsican, that you had been unable to resist the desire of making a 'stiff,' as you call it." 
"Yes, my good master," cried Bertuccio, casting himself at the count's feet, "it was simply vengeance--nothing else." 
"I understand that, but I do not understand what it is that galvanizes you in this manner." 
"But, monsieur, it is very natural," returned Bertuccio, "since it was in this house that my vengeance was accomplished." 
"What! my house?" 
"Oh, your excellency, it was not yours, then." 
"Whose, then? The Marquis de Saint-Méran, I think, the concièrge said. What had you to revenge on the Marquis de Saint-Méran?" 
"Oh, it was not on him, monsieur; it was on another." 
"This is strange," returned Monte Cristo, seeming to yield to his reflections, "that you should find yourself without any preparation in a house where the event happened that causes you so much remorse." 
"Monsieur," said the steward, "it is fatality, I am sure. First, you purchase a house at Auteuil--this house is the one where I have committed an assassination; you descend to the garden by the same staircase by which he descended; you stop at the spot where he received the blow; and two paces farther is the grave in which he had just buried his child. This is not chance, for chance, in this case, is too much like providence." 
"Well, amiable Corsican, let us suppose it is providence. I always suppose anything people please, and, besides, you must concede something to diseased minds. Come, collect yourself, and tell me all." 
"I have related it but once, and that was to the Abbé Busoni. Such things," continued Bertuccio, shaking his head, "are only related under the seal of confession." 
"Then," said the count, "I refer you to your confessor. Turn Chartreux or Trappist, and relate your secrets, but, as for me, I do not like any one who is alarmed by such phantasms, and I do not choose that my servants should be afraid to walk in the garden of an evening. I confess I am not very desirous of a visit from the commissary of police, for, in Italy, justice is only paid when silent--in France she is paid only when she speaks. Peste, I thought you somewhat Corsican, a great deal smuggler, and an excellent steward; but I see you have other strings to your bow. You are no longer in my service, Monsieur Bertuccio." 
"Oh, your excellency, your excellency!" cried the steward, struck with terror at this threat, "if that is the only reason I cannot remain in your service, I will tell all, for if I quit you, it will only be to go to the scaffold." 
"That is different," replied Monte Cristo; "but if you intend to tell an untruth, reflect it were better not to speak at all." 
"No, monsieur, I swear to you, by my hopes of salvation, I will tell you all, for the Abbé Busoni himself only knew a part of my secret; but, I pray you, go away from that plane-tree. The moon is just bursting through the clouds, and there, standing where you do, and wrapped in that cloak that conceals your figure, you remind me of M. de Villefort." 
"What!" cried Monte Cristo, "it was M. de Villefort?" 
"Your excellency knows him?" 
"The former royal attorney at N?mes?" 
"Yes." 
"Who married the Marquis of Saint-Méran's daughter?" 
"Yes." 
"Who enjoyed the reputation of being the most severe, the most upright, the most rigid magistrate on the bench?" 
"Well, monsieur," said Bertuccio, "this man with this spotless reputation"-- 
"Well?" 
"Was a villain." 
"Bah," replied Monte Cristo, "impossible!" 
"It is as I tell you." 
"Ah, really," said Monte Cristo. "Have you proof of this?" 
"I had it." 
"And you have lost it; how stupid!" 
"Yes; but by careful search it might be recovered." 
"Really," returned the count, "relate it to me, for it begins to interest me." And the count, humming an air from Lucia di Lammermoor, went to sit down on a bench, while Bertuccio followed him, collecting his thoughts. Bertuccio remained standing before him.  
基督山注意到，当他们跨上马车的时候，贝尔图乔曾做了一个科西嘉式的手势，即用他的大拇指在空中划了一个十字，而当他坐进马车里的时候，又喃喃地低声作了一个简短的祷告。管家这种古怪的举动，显然是他忌讳伯爵这次出门，除了喜欢刨根问底的人，谁见了都会可怜他的，但伯爵的好奇心似乎太重了，非要贝尔图乔跟着他跑这一趟不可。不到二十分钟，他们便到了欧特伊，他们进了村庄以后管家显得愈来愈烦躁不安。贝尔图乔缩在马车的角落里，开始焦急不安地察看经过的每一座房子。 
“告诉他们在芳丹街二十八号停车。”伯爵吩咐他的管家，眼睛一眨不眨地盯着他。 
贝尔图乔的前额上满是汗珠，但还是照办了，他把头从窗口里探出去，对车夫喊道：“芳丹街二十八号。” 
二十八号在村子的尽头，在车子向前走的时候，夜幕渐渐降临了，说得确切些，天空中出现了一大片带电的乌云，使薄暮中的这场戏剧化的插曲被包围在庄严的气氛里。马车停住了，听差从车夫的座位上跳下来，打开了车门。 
“贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说，“你不下车吗？你想留在车子里吗？你今晚上有什么心事吗？” 
贝尔图乔慌忙跳下车，直挺挺地站在车门旁边，伯爵扶住他的肩头走下马车的三级踏板。 
“去敲门，”伯爵说道，“说我来了。” 
贝尔图乔上去敲门，门开了，门房走出来。“什么事？”他问道。 
“这位是你的新主人，伙计。”听差说道，然后他把公证人的那张条子交给了门房。 
“那么，房子卖出去了？”门房问道，“这位先生是来这儿住的吗？” 
“是的，我的朋友，”伯爵答道，“我要尽量使你不再去想你的旧主人。” 
“噢，先生，”那门房说道，“我对他没有什么可留恋的，因为他很少到这儿来。他上一次来也是五年前的事了，他是该卖掉这所房子的，因为这所房子对他毫无好处。” 
  
  
“你的旧主人叫什么名字？”基督山问道。 
“圣·梅朗侯爵。啊，我相信他不是为了钱才卖这所房子的吧。” 
“圣·梅朗侯爵！”伯爵回答说。“这个名字我好象听说过，圣·梅朗侯爵！”于是他现出了沉思的样子。 
“是一位老绅士，”门房又说道，“是波旁王朝最忠实的臣仆，他有一个独生女儿，嫁给维尔福先生，维尔福先生做过尼姆的检察官，后来调到凡尔赛去了。” 
基督山这时向贝尔图乔瞟了一眼，只见贝尔图乔正将身子靠在墙上，以免跌倒，他的脸比他所靠的那面墙还要白。“他这个女儿不是死了吗？”基督山问道，“我好象听人这样说过。” 
“是的，先生，那是二十一年以前的事了，从那以后，我们见到可怜的侯爵总共不过三次。” 
“谢谢，谢谢，”基督山说道，他从那位管家失魂落魄的样子上判断出，他不能再把弦拉紧了，再紧便有绷断的危险。“请给我个人。” 
“要我陪您吗，先生，？” 
“不，不必了，贝尔图乔会给我照亮的。”基督山一边说，一边赏了他两块金洋，这两块金洋使门房的嘴巴里接连流出来一大串感谢和祝福的话。 
“啊，先生，”他在壁炉架和搁板上面找了一番以后说道，“我没有蜡烛了。” 
“去拿一盏灯来，贝尔图乔，”伯爵说道，“领我去看看房子。” 
管家一声不响地服从着命令，但他拿灯的那只手在发抖，从这一点上，很容易看出他这次的服从付出了多大的代价。二楼有一间客厅，一间浴室和两间卧室，这两间卧室中的一间和一座螺旋形的楼梯相连，楼梯出去便是花园。 
“啊，这儿有一座秘密楼梯，”伯爵说道，“这倒很方便。照着我，贝尔图乔先生，往前走，我们来看看它通到什么地方。” 
“大人，”贝尔图乔答道，“它是通花园的。” 
“请问，你是怎么知道的？” 
“我想应该如此的。” 
“好吧，我们去确定一下吧。” 
贝尔图乔叹了一口气，走在了前头。这座楼梯的确是通到花园里去的。一到门口，管家就站住了。“走啊，贝尔图乔先生。”伯爵说道。但对方却呆在那里了，只是瞪着眼，现出一副神志不清的样子，他那惊慌失措的眼睛向四面环顾着，象是寻找过去某件可怕的事情的痕迹似的，双手紧紧地握成了拳头，似乎竭力要赶走某种恐怖的回忆。 
“喂！”伯爵坚持说道。 
“不，不，”贝尔图乔把灯放在墙角，大声说道，“不，大人，这不行，我不能再向前走了。” 
“这是怎么回事？”基督山用一种不可抗拒的口吻问道。 
“您瞧，伯爵阁下，”管家大声说道，“这不是无缘无故的，您要买一所房子，而恰巧会买在欧特伊，而既买在欧特伊，又恰巧是芳丹街二十八号。噢！我为什么不把一切先讲给您听呢？我相信那样您就不会强迫我来了。我多么希望您的房子不会是这一幢，啊，好象欧特伊除了这个谋杀过人的房子以外就再也没有别的房子了似的！” 
“哦，哦！”基督山停下来说道，但又突然改了口，“你刚才说的什么话？你们科西嘉人真是鬼东西，老是迷信或鬼鬼祟祟的。来，把灯拿起来，我们去看看花园。我想，你和我在一起该不会害怕了吧？” 
贝尔图乔服从了命令，提起风灯。门一打开，就露出一个阴沉沉的天空，月亮在一片云海里徒然地挣扎着，它偶尔也会露面，但立刻就又被阴沉沉的翻滚的乌云所遮盖了，消失在了黑暗里。管家想往左转。 
“不，不，先生，”基督山说道，“干么走小路呢？这儿有一片美丽的草地，我们笔直着向前走吧。” 
贝尔图乔抹了一把额头上冒出的冷汗，还是服从了，但是，他却继续向左斜着走。基督山则恰巧相反，向右斜着走，到了一丛树木旁边，他停下来不走了。管家再也控制不住了。 
“走开，大人，走开，我求求您了，您正巧站在那块地方啦！” 
“什么地方？” 
“他倒下的地方。” 
  
  
“我亲爱的贝尔图乔先生，”基督山大笑着说，“你神志清醒一点好吧，我们现在不是在萨尔坦或科尔泰。这不是一片荒地而是一座英国式的花园，我承认管理得很坏，但你却不能说它不是一个花园。” 
“大人，我求求您了，别站在那个地方！” 
“我想你大概发疯了吧，贝尔图乔，”伯爵冷冷地说道。“假如真是如此，我可得先警告你，我会把你关进疯人院里去的。’“天哪！大人，”贝尔图乔回答说，两手绞在一起，脑袋直晃，要不是伯爵这时正在思考一件事关重要的事，使他未能注意贝尔图乔这种胆怯的心理，贝尔图乔的这副模样一定会引得他大笑。“天啊！大人，我要倒霉啦！” 
“贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说，“我很荣幸地告诉你，当你装腔作势，眼睛骨碌碌地乱转，两手扭来扭去的时候，实在是象一个被魔鬼缠住了的人，而我注意到，心里藏着秘密的人是最难驱逐魔鬼的。我知道你是个科西嘉人，也知道你很郁闷，老是在想着过去为亲人复仇的那一幕历史。在意大利的时候，我可以置之不理，因为在意大利，那种事情算不上一回事。但在法国，暗杀可是极不受人欢迎的。遇到这类事情，宪兵要捉拿凶手，法官来判罪，还有断头台为死者报仇。” 
贝尔图乔两手紧紧地扭在了一起，但即使这样，他也没有让那盏风灯跌落到地上，灯光照出了他苍白而变了形的脸。基督山带着他在罗马看安德烈受刑时的那种表情详详细细地观察着他，然后，他又用一种使那可怜的管家全身发抖的口吻说道：“那么说，布沙尼神甫欺骗了我了。一八二九年，他从法国旅行回来以后，叫你拿了一封介绍信到我这儿来，在那封介绍信里，他曾介绍了你的种种优点。好，我现在可以写信给神甫，说他所推荐的人有不良行为，我要叫他负责。而关于这桩暗杀事件，不久我就会完全知道的。只是我要警告你，我住在哪一个国家，就要遵守哪一个国家的法律，我不想为了你的缘故和法国司法机关闹纠纷。” 
“噢，请别那样做，大人，我一向都是忠心地侍奉您的，”贝尔图乔绝望地大声说道，“我一向为人都很诚实，在我力所能及的范围内，我总是在向好的方面做的。” 
“我并不否认这一点，”伯爵答道，“但你为什么这样慌张。这可不是好现象，一个内心清白的人，他的脸不会这样惨白，他的手不会这样发抖” 
“但是，伯爵阁下，”贝尔图乔吞吞吐吐地说道，“我在尼姆监狱里的时候，曾对布沙尼神甫忏悔了一件自己非常后悔的事，他有没有把那件事对您说过？” 
“是的，但他只说你可以当一名出色的管家，所以我以为你只不过是偷过东西而已。” 
“噢，伯爵阁下！”贝尔图乔轻蔑地叫出了声。 
“那么，你既然是一个科西嘉人，你也许曾按奈不住心头的怒火，干过你们所谓‘摘瓢儿’的事。” 
“是的，我的好主人，”贝尔图乔大喊了一声，使扑倒在伯爵的脚前，“不为别的，只为报一次仇而已。” 
“这我懂了，但我不懂那件事怎么又在你心里死灰复燃起来，使你变成这个样子。” 
“大人，这是非常自然的，”贝尔图乔回答说，“因为我说是在这座房子里报的仇。” 
“什么，在我的房子里？” 
“噢，伯爵阁下，当时它还不是您的呢。” 
“是谁的？那么，是圣·梅朗侯爵的了，我记得门房说过。但你对圣·梅朗侯爵有什么仇要报呢？” 
“噢，不是他，大人，是另外一个人。” 
“这听来真是有点奇怪，”基督山回答说，似乎象在想什么心思似的，“你竟不知不觉得又跑到两间自己做过非常后悔的事的房子里来了。” 
“大人，”管家说道，“我相信这是命。第一，您在欧特伊买了一座房子，而那正是我暗杀过人的一座房子，您到花园里来经过的，那个楼梯正是他走过的，那个您站的地方也正是他被刺的地方；而两步路之外，正是他埋葬他孩子的坟墓。这一切不是偶然的，因为这简直太象是天意了。” 
“好吧，科西嘉先生，我就算这是天意吧。只要人家高兴，我总是什么都肯同意的，而且，你的头脑已经有毛病了，你一定得对它让步。来，想想清楚，把一切都讲给我听吧。” 
“这件事我只对一个人讲起过，就是布沙尼神甫。这种事情，”贝尔图乔摇摇头，继续说道，“只有在忏悔师的面前才可以讲。” 
“那么，”伯爵说道，“我指点你去找个忏悔师吧。你去找一个卡德留派或白纳亭派的忏悔师，把你的秘密都讲给他听吧。我可不喜欢装神弄鬼吓唬自己的人，我可不愿意用晚上怕在花园里走路的仆人。我承认我并不十分愿意看到警察局里来人拜访，因为在意大利，只要闭嘴不讲，法院就不会来找麻烦你，但在法国，只有先说出来才能解脱自己。真的！我以为你多少总有点科西嘉人的气质，是一个经验丰富的走私贩子，一个出色的管家，但我现在看出你原来还有别的名堂。你不再是我的人了，贝尔图乔先生。” 
“噢，伯爵阁下，伯爵阁下！”管家大声说道，他被这恐吓吓坏了，“假如只是为了这个原因我就不能再继续为您效劳了，我宁愿把一切都讲出来，因为我一离开您，就只能上断头台了。” 
“那情况不同了，”基督山回答说。“但你要想清楚，假如你想撒谎，还不如不讲为妙。” 
  
  
“不，大人，我以我灵魂得救的名义向您发誓，我一定把一切实情都讲给您听，因为我的秘密布沙尼神甫也只知道一部分，但我求您先离开那株法国梧桐。月亮正从云堆里钻出来，而您所站的那个地点，和您裹住全身的这件披风，使我想起了维尔福先生。” 
“什么！”基督山大声叫道，“原来是维尔福先生” 
“大人认识他？” 
“他不是尼姆的前任检察官吗？” 
“是的。” 
“他不就是娶了圣·梅朗侯爵的女儿的那个人吗？” 
“也就是在目前司法界赫赫有名，被公认为最严厉，最正直，最死板的那个人吗？” 
“哦，大人，贝尔图乔说，“这个名誉白璧无瑕的人” 
“怎么样？” 
“是一个无耻之徒。” 
“什么！”基督山回答说，“不可能吧。” 
“我告诉您的是实话。” 
“啊，真的！”基督山说道。“你有证据吗？” 
“有的。” 
“而你把它丢了是吧，多蠢呀。” 
“是的，但仔细去找，还是能找回来的。” 
“真的吗？”伯爵答道，“讲给我听听吧，因为它引起了我的兴趣。”于是伯爵带着一种很轻松的神气走过去坐在了一条长凳上，贝尔图乔振作起精神跟上去站在了他的前面。 
Chapter 44 The Vendetta
 "AT WHAT POINT shall I begin my story, your excellency?" asked Bertuccio. 
"Where you please," returned Monte Cristo, "since I know nothing at all of it." 
"I thought the Abbé Busoni had told your excellency." 
"Some particulars, doubtless, but that is seven or eight years ago, and I have forgotten them." 
"Then I can speak without fear of tiring your excellency." 
"Go on, M. Bertuccio; you will supply the want of the evening papers." 
"The story begins in 1815." 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo, "1815 is not yesterday." 
"No, monsieur, and yet I recollect all things as clearly as if they had happened but then. I had a brother, an elder brother, who was in the service of the emperor; he had become lieutenant in a regiment composed entirely of Corsicans. This brother was my only friend; we became orphans--I at five, he at eighteen. He brought me up as if I had been his son, and in 1814 he married. When the emperor returned from the Island of Elba, my brother instantly joined the army, was slightly wounded at Waterloo, and retired with the army beyond the Loire." 
"But that is the history of the Hundred Days, M. Bertuccio," said the count; "unless I am mistaken, it has been already written." 
"Excuse me, excellency, but these details are necessary, and you promised to be patient." 
"Go on; I will keep my word." 
"One day we received a letter. I should tell you that we lived in the little village of Rogliano, at the extremity of Cape Corso. This letter was from my brother. He told us that the army was disbanded, and that he should return by Chateauroux, Clermont-Ferrand, Le Puy, and N?mes; and, if I had any money, he prayed me to leave it for him at N?mes, with an inn-keeper with whom I had dealings." 
"In the smuggling line?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Eh, your excellency? Every one must live." 
"Certainly; go on." 
"I loved my brother tenderly, as I told your excellency, and I resolved not to send the money, but to take it to him myself. I possessed a thousand francs. I left five hundred with Assunta, my sister-in-law, and with the other five hundred I set off for N?mes. It was easy to do so, and as I had my boat and a lading to take in at sea, everything favored my project. But, after we had taken in our cargo, the wind became contrary, so that we were four or five days without being able to enter the Rhone. At last, however, we succeeded, and worked up to Arles. I left the boat between Bellegarde and Beaucaire, and took the road to N?mes." 
"We are getting to the story now?" 
"Yes, your excellency; excuse me, but, as you will see, I only tell you what is absolutely necessary. Just at this time the famous massacres took place in the south of France. Three brigands, called Trestaillon, Truphemy, and Graffan, publicly assassinated everybody whom they suspected of Bonapartism. You have doubtless heard of these massacres, your excellency?" 
"Vaguely; I was far from France at that period. Go on." 
"As I entered N?mes, I literally waded in blood; at every step you encountered dead bodies and bands of murderers, who killed, plundered, and burned. At the sight of this slaughter and devastation I became terrified, not for myself--for I, a simple Corsican fisherman, had nothing to fear; on the contrary, that time was most favorable for us smugglers--but for my brother, a soldier of the empire, returning from the army of the Loire, with his uniform and his epaulets, there was everything to apprehend. I hastened to the inn-keeper. My misgivings had been but too true. My brother had arrived the previous evening at N?mes, and, at the very door of the house where he was about to demand hospitality, he had been assassinated. I did all in my power to discover the murderers, but no one durst tell me their names, so much were they dreaded. I then thought of that French justice of which I had heard so much, and which feared nothing, and I went to the king's attorney." 
"And this king's attorney was named Villefort?" asked Monte Cristo carelessly. 
"Yes, your excellency; he came from Marseilles, where he had been deputy-procureur. His zeal had procured him advancement, and he was said to be one of the first who had informed the government of the departure from the Island of Elba." 
"Then," said Monte Cristo "you went to him?" 
"'Monsieur,' I said, 'my brother was assassinated yesterday in the streets of N?mes, I know not by whom, but it is your duty to find out. You are the representative of justice here, and it is for justice to avenge those she has been unable to protect.'--'Who was your brother?' asked he.--'A lieutenant in the Corsican battalion.'--'A soldier of the usurper, then?'--'A soldier of the French army.'--'Well,' replied he, 'he has smitten with the sword, and he has perished by the sword.'--'You are mistaken, monsieur,' I replied; 'he has perished by the poniard.'--'What do you want me to do?' asked the magistrate.--'I have already told you--avenge him.'--'On whom?'--'On his murderers.'--'How should I know who they are?'--'Order them to be sought for.'--'Why, your brother has been involved in a quarrel, and killed in a duel. All these old soldiers commit excesses which were tolerated in the time of the emperor, but which are not suffered now, for the people here do not like soldiers of such disorderly conduct.'--'Monsieur,' I replied, 'it is not for myself that I entreat your interference--I should grieve for him or avenge him, but my poor brother had a wife, and were anything to happen to me, the poor creature would perish from want, for my brother's pay alone kept her. Pray, try and obtain a small government pension for her.' 
"'Every revolution has its catastrophes,' returned M. de Villefort; 'your brother has been the victim of this. It is a misfortune, and government owes nothing to his family. If we are to judge by all the vengeance that the followers of the usurper exercised on the partisans of the king, when, in their turn, they were in power, your brother would be to-day, in all probability, condemned to death. What has happened is quite natural, and in conformity with the law of reprisals.'--'What,' cried I, 'do you, a magistrate, speak thus to me?'--'All these Corsicans are mad, on my honor,' replied M. de Villefort; 'they fancy that their countryman is still emperor. You have mistaken the time, you should have told me this two months ago, it is too late now. Go now, at once, or I shall have you put out.' 
"I looked at him an instant to see if there was anything to hope from further entreaty. But he was a man of stone. I approached him, and said in a low voice, 'Well, since you know the Corsicans so well, you know that they always keep their word. You think that it was a good deed to kill my brother, who was a Bonapartist, because you are a royalist. Well, I, who am a Bonapartist also, declare one thing to you, which is, that I will kill you. From this moment I declare the vendetta against you, so protect yourself as well as you can, for the next time we meet your last hour has come.' And before he had recovered from his surprise, I opened the door and left the room." 
"Well, well," said Monte Cristo, "such an innocent looking person as you are to do those things, M. Bertuccio, and to a king's attorney at that! But did he know what was meant by the terrible word 'vendetta'?" 
"He knew so well, that from that moment he shut himself in his house, and never went out unattended, seeking me high and low. Fortunately, I was so well concealed that he could not find me. Then he became alarmed, and dared not stay any longer at N?mes, so he solicited a change of residence, and, as he was in reality very influential, he was nominated to Versailles. But, as you know, a Corsican who has sworn to avenge himself cares not for distance, so his carriage, fast as it went, was never above half a day's journey before me, who followed him on foot. The most important thing was, not to kill him only--for I had an opportunity of doing so a hundred times--but to kill him without being discovered--at least, without being arrested. I no longer belonged to myself, for I had my sister-in-law to protect and provide for. For three months I watched M. de Villefort, for three months he took not a step out-of-doors without my following him. At length I discovered that he went mysteriously to Auteuil. I followed him thither, and I saw him enter the house where we now are, only, instead of entering by the great door that looks into the street, he came on horseback, or in his carriage, left the one or the other at the little inn, and entered by the gate you see there." Monte Cristo made a sign with his head to show that he could discern in the darkness the door to which Bertuccio alluded. "As I had nothing more to do at Versailles, I went to Auteuil, and gained all the information I could. If I wished to surprise him, it was evident this was the spot to lie in wait for him. The house belonged, as the concièrge informed your excellency, to M. de Saint-Méran, Villefort's father-in-law. M. de Saint-Méran lived at Marseilles, so that this country house was useless to him, and it was reported to be let to a young widow, known only by the name of 'the baroness.' 
"One evening, as I was looking over the wall, I saw a young and handsome woman who was walking alone in that garden, which was not overlooked by any windows, and I guessed that she was awaiting M. de Villefort. When she was sufficiently near for me to distinguish her features, I saw she was from eighteen to nineteen, tall and very fair. As she had a loose muslin dress on and as nothing concealed her figure, I saw she would ere long become a mother. A few moments after, the little door was opened and a man entered. The young woman hastened to meet him. They threw themselves into each other's arms, embraced tenderly, and returned together to the house. The man was M. de Villefort; I fully believed that when he went out in the night he would be forced to traverse the whole of the garden alone." 
"And," asked the count, "did you ever know the name of this woman?" 
"No, excellency," returned Bertuccio; "you will see that I had no time to learn it." 
"Go on." 
"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killed the procureur, but as I was not sufficiently acquainted with the neighborhood, I was fearful of not killing him on the spot, and that if his cries were overheard I might be taken; so I put it off until the next occasion, and in order that nothing should escape me, I took a chamber looking into the street bordered by the wall of the garden. Three days after, about seven o'clock in the evening, I saw a servant on horseback leave the house at full gallop, and take the road to Sèvres. I concluded that he was going to Versailles, and I was not deceived. Three hours later, the man returned covered with dust, his errand was performed, and two minutes after, another man on foot, muffled in a mantle, opened the little door of the garden, which he closed after him. I descended rapidly; although I had not seen Villefort's face, I recognized him by the beating of my heart. I crossed the street, and stopped at a post placed at the angle of the wall, and by means of which I had once before looked into the garden. This time I did not content myself with looking, but I took my knife out of my pocket, felt that the point was sharp, and sprang over the wall. My first care was to run to the door; he had left the key in it, taking the simple precaution of turning it twice in the lock. Nothing, then, preventing my escape by this means, I examined the grounds. The garden was long and narrow; a stretch of smooth turf extended down the middle, and at the corners were clumps of trees with thick and massy foliage, that made a background for the shrubs and flowers. In order to go from the door to the house, or from the house to the door, M. de Villefort would be obliged to pass by one of these clumps of trees. 
"It was the end of September; the wind blew violently. The faint glimpses of the pale moon, hidden momentarily by masses of dark clouds that were sweeping across the sky, whitened the gravel walks that led to the house, but were unable to pierce the obscurity of the thick shrubberies, in which a man could conceal himself without any fear of discovery. I hid myself in the one nearest to the path Villefort must take, and scarcely was I there when, amidst the gusts of wind, I fancied I heard groans; but you know, or rather you do not know, your excellency, that he who is about to commit an assassination fancies that he hears low cries perpetually ringing in his ears. Two hours passed thus, during which I imagined I heard moans repeatedly. Midnight struck. As the last stroke died away, I saw a faint light shine through the windows of the private staircase by which we have just descended. The door opened, and the man in the mantle reappeared. The terrible moment had come, but I had so long been prepared for it that my heart did not fail in the least. I drew my knife from my pocket again, opened it, and made ready to strike. The man in the mantle advanced towards me, but as he drew near I saw that he had a weapon in his hand. I was afraid, not of a struggle, but of a failure. When he was only a few paces from me, I saw that what I had taken for a weapon was only a spade. I was still unable to divine for what reason M. de Villefort had this spade in his hands, when he stopped close to the thicket where I was, glanced round, and began to dig a hole in the earth. I then perceived that he was hiding something under his mantle, which he laid on the grass in order to dig more freely. Then, I confess, curiosity mingled with hatred; I wished to see what Villefort was going to do there, and I remained motionless, holding my breath. Then an idea crossed my mind, which was confirmed when I saw the procureur lift from under his mantle a box, two feet long, and six or eight inches deep. I let him place the box in the hole he had made, then, while he stamped with his feet to remove all traces of his occupation, I rushed on him and plunged my knife into his breast, exclaiming,--'I am Giovanni Bertuccio; thy death for my brother's; thy treasure for his widow; thou seest that my vengeance is more complete than I had hoped.' I know not if he heard these words; I think he did not, for he fell without a cry. I felt his blood gush over my face, but I was intoxicated, I was delirious, and the blood refreshed, instead of burning me. In a second I had disinterred the box; then, that it might not be known I had done so, I filled up the hole, threw the spade over the wall, and rushed through the door, which I double-locked, carrying off the key." 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "it seems to me this was nothing but murder and robbery." 
"No, your excellency," returned Bertuccio; "it was a vendetta followed by restitution." 
"And was the sum a large one?" 
"It was not money." 
"Ah, I recollect," replied the count; "did you not say something of an infant?" 
"Yes, excellency; I hastened to the river, sat down on the bank, and with my knife forced open the lock of the box. In a fine linen cloth was wrapped a new-born child. Its purple visage, and its violet-colored hands showed that it had perished from suffocation, but as it was not yet cold, I hesitated to throw it into the water that ran at my feet. After a moment I fancied that I felt a slight pulsation of the heart, and as I had been assistant at the hospital at Bastia, I did what a doctor would have done--I inflated the lungs by blowing air into them, and at the expiration of a quarter of an hour, it began to breathe, and cried feebly. In my turn I uttered a cry, but a cry of joy. 'God has not cursed me then,' I cried, 'since he permits me to save the life of a human creature, in exchange for the life I have taken away.'" 
"And what did you do with the child?" asked Monte Cristo. "It was an embarrassing load for a man seeking to escape." 
"I had not for a moment the idea of keeping it, but I knew that at Paris there was an asylum where they receive such creatures. As I passed the city gates I declared that I had found the child on the road, and I inquired where the asylum was; the box confirmed my statement, the linen proved that the infant belonged to wealthy parents, the blood with which I was covered might have proceeded from the child as well as from any one else. No objection was raised, but they pointed out the asylum, which was situated at the upper end of the Rue d'Enfer, and after having taken the precaution of cutting the linen in two pieces, so that one of the two letters which marked it was on the piece wrapped around the child, while the other remained in my possession, I rang the bell, and fled with all speed. A fortnight after I was at Rogliano, and I said to Assunta,--'Console thyself, sister; Israel is dead, but he is avenged.' She demanded what I meant, and when I had told her all,--'Giovanni,' said she, 'you should have brought this child with you; we would have replaced the parents it has lost, have called it Benedetto, and then, in consequence of this good action, God would have blessed us.' In reply I gave her the half of the linen I had kept in order to reclaim him if we became rich." 
"What letters were marked on the linen?" said Monte Cristo. 
"An H and an N, surmounted by a baron's coronet." 
"By heaven, M. Bertuccio, you make use of heraldic terms; where did you study heraldry?" 
"In your service, excellency, where everything is learned." 
"Go on, I am curious to know two things." 
"What are they, your excellency ?" 
"What became of this little boy? for I think you told me it was a boy, M. Bertuccio." 
"No excellency, I do not recollect telling you that." 
"I thought you did; I must have been mistaken." 
"No, you were not, for it was in reality a little boy. But your excellency wished to know two things; what was the second?" 
"The second was the crime of which you were accused when you asked for a confessor, and the Abbé Busoni came to visit you at your request in the prison at N?mes." 
"The story will be very long, excellency." 
"What matter? you know I take but little sleep, and I do not suppose you are very much inclined for it either." Bertuccio bowed, and resumed his story. 
"Partly to drown the recollections of the past that haunted me, partly to supply the wants of the poor widow, I eagerly returned to my trade of smuggler, which had become more easy since that relaxation of the laws which always follows a revolution. The southern districts were ill-watched in particular, in consequence of the disturbances that were perpetually breaking out in Avignon, N?mes, or Uzés. We profited by this respite on the part of the government to make friends everywhere. Since my brother's assassination in the streets of N?mes, I had never entered the town; the result was that the inn-keeper with whom we were connected, seeing that we would no longer come to him, was forced to come to us, and had established a branch to his inn, on the road from Bellegarde to Beaucaire, at the sign of the Pont du Gard. We had thus, at Aigues-Mortes, Martigues, or Bouc, a dozen places where we left our goods, and where, in case of necessity, we concealed ourselves from the gendarmes and custom-house officers. Smuggling is a profitable trade, when a certain degree of vigor and intelligence is employed; as for myself, brought up in the mountains, I had a double motive for fearing the gendarmes and custom-house officers, as my appearance before the judges would cause an inquiry, and an inquiry always looks back into the past. And in my past life they might find something far more grave than the selling of smuggled cigars, or barrels of brandy without a permit. So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most astonishing deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the success of those projects which require rapid decision, and vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once devoted your life to your enterprises, you are no longer the equal of other men, or, rather, other men are no longer your equals, and whosoever has taken this resolution, feels his strength and resources doubled." 
"Philosophy, M. Bertuccio," interrupted the Count; "you have done a little of everything in your life." 
"Oh, excellency," 
"No, no; but philosophy at half-past ten at night is somewhat late; yet I have no other observation to make, for what you say is correct, which is more than can be said for all philosophy." 
"My journeys became more and more extensive and more productive. Assunta took care of all, and our little fortune increased. One day as I was setting off on an expedition, 'Go,' said she; 'at your return I will give you a surprise.' I questioned her, but in vain; she would tell me nothing, and I departed. Our expedition lasted nearly six weeks; we had been to Lucca to take in oil, to Leghorn for English cottons, and we ran our cargo without opposition, and returned home full of joy. When I entered the house, the first thing I beheld in the middle of Assunta's chamber was a cradle that might be called sumptuous compared with the rest of the furniture, and in it a baby seven or eight months old. I uttered a cry of joy; the only moments of sadness I had known since the assassination of the procureur were caused by the recollection that I had abandoned this child. For the assassination itself I had never felt any remorse. Poor Assunta had guessed all. She had profited by my absence, and furnished with the half of the linen, and having written down the day and hour at which I had deposited the child at the asylum, had set off for Paris, and had reclaimed it. No objection was raised, and the infant was given up to her. Ah, I confess, your excellency, when I saw this poor creature sleeping peacefully in its cradle, I felt my eyes filled with tears. 'Ah, Assunta,' cried I, 'you are an excellent woman, and heaven will bless you.'" 
"This," said Monte Cristo, "is less correct than your philosophy,--it is only faith." 
"Alas, your excellency is right," replied Bertuccio, "and God made this infant the instrument of our punishment. Never did a perverse nature declare itself more prematurely, and yet it was not owing to any fault in his bringing up. He was a most lovely child, with large blue eyes, of that deep color that harmonizes so well with the blond complexion; only his hair, which was too light, gave his face a most singular expression, and added to the vivacity of his look, and the malice of his smile. Unfortunately, there is a proverb which says that 'red is either altogether good or altogether bad.' The proverb was but too correct as regarded Benedetto, and even in his infancy he manifested the worst disposition. It is true that the indulgence of his foster-mother encouraged him. This child, for whom my poor sister would go to the town, five or six leagues off, to purchase the earliest fruits and the most tempting sweetmeats, preferred to Palma grapes or Genoese preserves, the chestnuts stolen from a neighbor's orchard, or the dried apples in his loft, when he could eat as well of the nuts and apples that grew in my garden. One day, when Benedetto was about five or six, our neighbor Vasilio, who, according to the custom of the country, never locked up his purse or his valuables--for, as your excellency knows, there are no thieves in Corsica--complained that he had lost a louis out of his purse; we thought he must have made a mistake in counting his money, but he persisted in the accuracy of his statement. One day, Benedetto, who had been gone from the house since morning, to our great anxiety, did not return until late in the evening, dragging a monkey after him, which he said he had found chained to the foot of a tree. For more than a month past, the mischievous child, who knew not what to wish for, had taken it into his head to have a monkey. A boatman, who had passed by Rogliano, and who had several of these animals, whose tricks had greatly diverted him, had, doubtless, suggested this idea to him. 'Monkeys are not found in our woods chained to trees,' said I; 'confess how you obtained this animal.' Benedetto maintained the truth of what he had said, and accompanied it with details that did more honor to his imagination than to his veracity. I became angry; he began to laugh, I threatened to strike him, and he made two steps backwards. 'You cannot beat me,' said he; 'you have no right, for you are not my father.' 
"We never knew who had revealed this fatal secret, which we had so carefully concealed from him; however, it was this answer, in which the child's whole character revealed itself, that almost terrified me, and my arm fell without touching him. The boy triumphed, and this victory rendered him so audacious, that all the money of Assunta, whose affection for him seemed to increase as he became more unworthy of it, was spent in caprices she knew not how to contend against, and follies she had not the courage to prevent. When I was at Rogliano everything went on properly, but no sooner was my back turned than Benedetto became master, and everything went ill. When he was only eleven, he chose his companions from among the young men of eighteen or twenty, the worst characters in Bastia, or, indeed, in Corsica, and they had already, for some mischievous pranks, been several times threatened with a prosecution. I became alarmed, as any prosecution might be attended with serious consequences. I was compelled, at this period, to leave Corsica on an important expedition; I reflected for a long time, and with the hope of averting some impending misfortune, I resolved that Benedetto should accompany me. I hoped that the active and laborious life of a smuggler, with the severe discipline on board, would have a salutary effect on his character, which was now well-nigh, if not quite, corrupt. I spoke to Benedetto alone, and proposed to him to accompany me, endeavoring to tempt him by all the promises most likely to dazzle the imagination of a child of twelve. He heard me patiently, and when I had finished, burst out laughing. 
"'Are you mad, uncle?' (he called me by this name when he was in good humor); 'do you think I am going to change the life I lead for your mode of existence--my agreeable indolence for the hard and precarious toil you impose on yourself, exposed to the bitter frost at night, and the scorching heat by day, compelled to conceal yourself, and when you are perceived, receive a volley of bullets, all to earn a paltry sum? Why, I have as much money as I want; mother Assunta always furnishes me when I ask for it! You see that I should be a fool to accept your offer.' The arguments, and his audacity, perfectly stupefied me. Benedetto rejoined his associates, and I saw him from a distance point me out to them as a fool." 
"Sweet child," murmured Monte Cristo. 
"Oh, had he been my own son," replied Bertuccio, "or even my nephew, I would have brought him back to the right road, for the knowledge that you are doing your duty gives you strength, but the idea that I was striking a child whose father I had killed, made it impossible for me to punish him. I gave my sister, who constantly defended the unfortunate boy, good advice, and as she confessed that she had several times missed money to a considerable amount, I showed her a safe place in which to conceal our little treasure for the future. My mind was already made up. Benedetto could read, write, and cipher perfectly, for when the fit seized him, he learned more in a day than others in a week. My intention was to enter him as a clerk in some ship, and without letting him know anything of my plan, to convey him some morning on board; by this means his future treatment would depend upon his own conduct. I set off for France, after having fixed upon the plan. Our cargo was to be landed in the Gulf of Lyons, and this was a difficult thing to do because it was then the year 1829. The most perfect tranquillity was restored, and the vigilance of the custom-house officers was redoubled, and their strictness was increased at this time, in consequence of the fair at Beaucaire. 
"Our expedition made a favorable beginning. We anchored our vessel--which had a double hold, where our goods were concealed--amidst a number of other vessels that bordered the banks of the Rhone from Beaucaire to Arles. On our arrival we began to discharge our cargo in the night, and to convey it into the town, by the help of the inn-keeper with whom we were connected. Whether success rendered us imprudent, or whether we were betrayed, I know not; but one evening, about five o'clock, our little cabin-boy came breathlessly, to inform us that he had seen a detachment of custom-house officers advancing in our direction. It was not their proximity that alarmed us, for detachments were constantly patrolling along the banks of the Rhone, but the care, according to the boy's account, that they took to avoid being seen. In an instant we were on the alert, but it was too late; our vessel was surrounded, and amongst the custom-house officers I observed several gendarmes, and, as terrified at the sight of their uniforms as I was brave at the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold, opened a port, and dropped into the river, dived, and only rose at intervals to breathe, until I reached a ditch that had recently been made from the Rhone to the canal that runs from Beaucaire to Aigues-Mortes. I was now safe, for I could swim along the ditch without being seen, and I reached the canal in safety. I had designedly taken this direction. I have already told your excellency of an inn-keeper from N?mes who had set up a little tavern on the road from Bellegarde to Beaucaire." 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I perfectly recollect him; I think he was your colleague." 
"Precisely," answered Bertuccio; "but he had, seven or eight years before this period, sold his establishment to a tailor at Marseilles, who, having almost ruined himself in his old trade, wished to make his fortune in another. Of course, we made the same arrangements with the new landlord that we had with the old; and it was of this man that I intended to ask shelter." 
"What was his name?" inquired the count, who seemed to become somewhat interested in Bertuccio's story. 
"Gaspard Caderousse; he had married a woman from the village of Carconte, and whom we did not know by any other name than that of her village. She was suffering from malarial fever, and seemed dying by inches. As for her husband, he was a strapping fellow of forty, or five and forty, who had more than once, in time of danger, given ample proof of his presence of mind and courage." 
"And you say," interrupted Monte Cristo "that this took place towards the year"-- 
"1829, your excellency." 
"In what month?" 
"June." 
"The beginning or the end?" 
"The evening of the 3d." 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "the evening of the 3d of June, 1829. Go on." 
"It was from Caderousse that I intended demanding shelter, and, as we never entered by the door that opened onto the road, I resolved not to break through the rule, so climbing over the garden-hedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild fig trees, and fearing that Caderousse might have some guest, I entered a kind of shed in which I had often passed the night, and which was only separated from the inn by a partition, in which holes had been made in order to enable us to watch an opportunity of announcing our presence. My intention was, if Caderousse was alone, to acquaint him with my presence, finish the meal the custom-house officers had interrupted, and profit by the threatened storm to return to the Rhone, and ascertain the state of our vessel and its crew. I stepped into the shed, and it was fortunate I did so, for at that moment Caderousse entered with a stranger. 
"I waited patiently, not to overhear what they said, but because I could do nothing else; besides, the same thing had occurred often before. The man who was with Caderousse was evidently a stranger to the South of France; he was one of those merchants who come to sell jewellery at the Beaucaire fair, and who during the month the fair lasts, and during which there is so great an influx of merchants and customers from all parts of Europe, often have dealings to the amount of 100,000 to 150,000 francs. Caderousse entered hastily. Then, seeing that the room was, as usual, empty, and only guarded by the dog, he called to his wife, 'Hello, Carconte,' said he, 'the worthy priest has not deceived us; the diamond is real.' An exclamation of joy was heard, and the staircase creaked beneath a feeble step. 'What do you say?' asked his wife, pale as death. 
"'I say that the diamond is real, and that this gentleman, one of the first jewellers of Paris, will give us 50,000 francs for it. Only, in order to satisfy himself that it really belongs to us, he wishes you to relate to him, as I have done already, the miraculous manner in which the diamond came into our possession. In the meantime please to sit down, monsieur, and I will fetch you some refreshment.' The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the inn and the apparent poverty of the persons who were about to sell him a diamond that seemed to have come from the casket of a prince. 'Relate your story, madame,' said he, wishing, no doubt, to profit by the absence of the husband, so that the latter could not influence the wife's story, to see if the two recitals tallied. 
"'Oh,' returned she, 'it was a gift of heaven. My husband was a great friend, in 1814 or 1815, of a sailor named Edmond Dantès. This poor fellow, whom Caderousse had forgotten, had not forgotten him, and at his death he bequeathed this diamond to him.'--'But how did he obtain it?' asked the jeweller; 'had he it before he was imprisoned?'--'No, monsieur; but it appears that in prison he made the acquaintance of a rich Englishman, and as in prison he fell sick, and Dantès took the same care of him as if he had been his brother, the Englishman, when he was set free, gave this stone to Dantès, who, less fortunate, died, and, in his turn, left it to us, and charged the excellent abbé, who was here this morning, to deliver it.'--'The same story,' muttered the jeweller; 'and improbable as it seemed at first, it may be true. There's only the price we are not agreed about.'--'How not agreed about?' said Caderousse. 'I thought we agreed for the price I asked.'--'That is,' replied the jeweller, 'I offered 40,000 francs.'--'Forty thousand,' cried La Carconte; 'we will not part with it for that sum. The abbé told us it was worth 50,000 without the setting.' 
"'What was the abbé's name?' asked the indefatigable questioner.--'The Abbé Busoni,' said La Carconte.--'He was a foreigner?'--'An Italian, from the neighborhood of Mantua, I believe.'--'Let me see this diamond again,' replied the jeweller; 'the first time you are often mistaken as to the value of a stone.' Caderousse took from his pocket a small case of black shagreen, opened, and gave it to the jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large as a hazel-nut, La Carconte's eyes sparkled with cupidity." 
"And what did you think of this fine story, eavesdropper?" said Monte Cristo; "did you credit it?" 
"Yes, your excellency. I did not look on Caderousse as a bad man, and I thought him incapable of committing a crime, or even a theft." 
"That did more honor to your heart than to your experience, M. Bertuccio. Had you known this Edmond Dantès, of whom they spoke?" 
"No, your excellency, I had never heard of him before, and never but once afterwards, and that was from the Abbé Busoni himself, when I saw him in the prison at N?mes." 
"Go on." 
"The jeweller took the ring, and drawing from his pocket a pair of steel pliers and a small set of copper scales, he took the stone out of its setting, and weighed it carefully. 'I will give you 45,000,' said he, 'but not a sou more; besides, as that is the exact value of the stone, I brought just that sum with me.'--'Oh, that's no matter,' replied Caderousse, 'I will go back with you to fetch the other 5,000 francs.'--'No,' returned the jeweller, giving back the diamond and the ring to Caderousse--'no, it is worth no more, and I am sorry I offered so much, for the stone has a flaw in it, which I had not seen. However, I will not go back on my word, and I will give 45,000.'--'At least, replace the diamond in the ring,' said La Carconte sharply.--'Ah, true,' replied the jeweller, and he reset the stone.--'No matter,' observed Caderousse, replacing the box in his pocket, 'some one else will purchase it.'--'Yes,' continued the jeweller; 'but some one else will not be so easy as I am, or content himself with the same story. It is not natural that a man like you should possess such a diamond. He will inform against you. You will have to find the Abbé Busoni; and abbes who give diamonds worth two thousand louis are rare. The law would seize it, and put you in prison; if at the end of three or four months you are set at liberty, the ring will be lost, or a false stone, worth three francs, will be given you, instead of a diamond worth 50,000 or perhaps 55,000 francs; from which you must allow that one runs considerable risk in purchasing.' Caderousse and his wife looked eagerly at each other.--'No,' said Caderousse, 'we are not rich enough to lose 5,000 francs.'--'As you please, my dear sir,' said the, jeweller; 'I had, however, as you see, brought you the money in bright coin.' And he drew from his pocket a handful of gold, and held it sparkling before the dazzled eyes of the innkeeper, and in the other hand he held a packet of bank-notes. 
"There was evidently a severe struggle in the mind of Caderousse; it was plain that the small shagreen case, which he turned over and over in his hand, did not seem to him commensurate in value to the enormous sum which fascinated his gaze. He turned towards his wife. 'What do you think of this?' he asked in a low voice.--'Let him have it--let him have it,' she said. 'If he returns to Beaucaire without the diamond, he will inform against us, and, as he says, who knows if we shall ever again see the Abbé Busoni?--in all probability we shall never see him.'--'Well, then, so I will!' said Caderousse; 'so you may have the diamond for 45,000 francs. But my wife wants a gold chain, and I want a pair of silver buckles.' The jeweller drew from his pocket a long flat box, which contained several samples of the articles demanded. 'Here,' he said, 'I am very straightforward in my dealings--take your choice.' The woman selected a gold chain worth about five louis, and the husband a pair of buckles. worth perhaps fifteen francs.--'I hope you will not complain now?' said the jeweller. 
"'The abbé told me it was worth 50,000 francs,' muttered Caderousse. 'Come, come--give it to me! What a strange fellow you are,' said the jeweller, taking the diamond from his hand. 'I give you 45,000 francs--that is, 2,500 livres of income,--a fortune such as I wish I had myself, and you are not satisfied!'--'And the five and forty thousand francs,' inquired Caderousse in a hoarse voice, 'where are they? Come--let us see them.'--'Here they are,' replied the jeweller, and he counted out upon the table 15,000 francs in gold, and 30,000 francs in bank-notes. 
"'Wait while I light the lamp,' said La Carconte; 'it is growing dark, and there may be some mistake.' In fact, night had come on during this conversation, and with night the storm which had been threatening for the last half-hour. The thunder growled in the distance; but it was apparently not heard by the jeweller, Caderousse, or La Carconte, absorbed as they were all three with the demon of gain. I myself felt; a strange kind of fascination at the sight of all this gold and all these bank-notes; it seemed to me that I was in a dream, and, as it always happens in a dream, I felt myself riveted to the spot. Caderousse counted and again counted the gold and the notes, then handed them to his wife, who counted and counted them again in her turn. During this time, the jeweller made the diamond play and sparkle in the lamplight, and the gem threw out jets of light which made him unmindful of those which--precursors of the storm--began to play in at the windows. 'Well,' inquired the jeweller, 'is the cash all right?' 
"'Yes,' said Caderousse. 'Give me the pocket-book, La Carconte, and find a bag somewhere.' 
"La Carconte went to a cupboard, and returned with an old leathern pocket-book and a bag. From the former she took some greasy letters, and put in their place the bank-notes, and from the bag took two or three crowns of six livres each, which, in all probability, formed the entire fortune of the miserable couple. 'There,' said Caderousse; 'and now, although you have wronged us of perhaps 10,000 francs, will you have your supper with us? I invite you with good-will.'--'Thank you,' replied the jeweller, 'it must be getting late, and I must return to Beaucaire--my wife will be getting uneasy.' He drew out his watch, and exclaimed, 'Morbleu! nearly nine o'clock--why, I shall not get back to Beaucaire before midnight! Good-night, my friends. If the Abbé Busoni should by any accident return, think of me.'--'In another week you will have left Beaucaire.' remarked Caderousse, 'for the fair ends in a few days.'--'True, but that makes no difference. Write to me at Paris, to M. Joannes, in the Palais Royal, arcade Pierre, No. 45. I will make the journey on purpose to see him, if it is worth while.' At this moment there was a tremendous clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning so vivid, that it quite eclipsed the light of the lamp. 
"'See here,' exclaimed Caderousse. 'You cannot think of going out in such weather as this.'--'Oh, I am not afraid of thunder,' said the jeweller.--'And then there are robbers,' said La Carconte. 'The road is never very safe during fair time.'--'Oh, as to the robbers,' said Joannes, 'here is something for them,' and he drew from his pocket a pair of small pistols, loaded to the muzzle. 'Here,' said he, 'are dogs who bark and bite at the same time, they are for the two first who shall have a longing for your diamond, Friend Caderousse.' 
"Caderousse and his wife again interchanged a meaning look. It seemed as though they were both inspired at the same time with some horrible thought. 'Well, then, a good journey to you,' said Caderousse.--'Thanks,' replied the jeweller. He then took his cane, which he had placed against an old cupboard, and went out. At the moment when he opened the door, such a gust of wind came in that the lamp was nearly extinguished. 'Oh,' said he, 'this is very nice weather, and two leagues to go in such a storm.'--'Remain,' said Caderousse. 'You can sleep here.'--'Yes; do stay,' added La Carconte in a tremulous voice; 'we will take every care of you.'--'No; I must sleep at Beaucaire. So, once more, good-night.' Caderousse followed him slowly to the threshold. 'I can see neither heaven nor earth,' said the jeweller, who was outside the door. 'Do I turn to the right, or to the left hand?'--'To the right,' said Caderousse. 'You cannot go wrong--the road is bordered by trees on both sides.'--'Good--all right,' said a voice almost lost in the distance. 'Close the door,' said La Carconte; 'I do not like open doors when it thunders.'--'Particularly when there is money in the house, eh?' answered Caderousse, double-locking the door. 
"He came into the room, went to the cupboard, took out the bag and pocket-book, and both began, for the third time, to count their gold and bank-notes. I never saw such an expression of cupidity as the flickering lamp revealed in those two countenances. The woman, especially, was hideous; her usual feverish tremulousness was intensified, her countenance had become livid, and her eyes resembled burning coals. 'Why,' she inquired in a hoarse voice, 'did you invite him to sleep here to-night?'--'Why?' said Caderousse with a shudder; 'why, that he might not have the trouble of returning to Beaucaire.'--'Ah,' responded the woman, with an expression impossible to describe; 'I thought it was for something else.'--'Woman, woman--why do you have such ideas?' cried Caderousse; 'or, if you have them, why don't you keep them to yourself?'--'Well,' said La Carconte, after a moment's pause, 'you are not a man.'--'What do you mean?' added Caderousse.--'If you had been a man, you would not have let him go from here.'--'Woman!'--'Or else he should not have reached Beaucaire.'--'Woman!'--'The road takes a turn--he is obliged to follow it--while alongside of the canal there is a shorter road.'--'Woman!--you offend the good God. There--listen!' And at this moment there was a tremendous peal of thunder, while the livid lightning illumined the room, and the thunder, rolling away in the distance, seemed to withdraw unwillingly from the cursed abode. 'Mercy!' said Caderousse, crossing himself. 
"At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying silence which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard a knocking at the door. Caderousse and his wife started and looked aghast at each other. 'Who's there?' cried Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a heap the gold and notes scattered over the table, and which he covered with his two hands.--'It is I,' shouted a voice.--'And who are you?'--'Eh, Pardieu! Joannes, the jeweller.'--'Well, and you said I offended the good God,' said La Carconte with a horrid smile. 'Why, the good God sends him back again.' Caderousse sank pale and breathless into his chair. La Carconte, on the contrary, rose, and going with a firm step towards the door, opened it, saying, as she did so--'Come in, dear M. Joannes.'--'Ma foi!' said the jeweller, drenched with rain, 'I am not destined to return to Beaucaire to-night. The shortest follies are best, my dear Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and have returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof.' Caderousse stammered out something, while he wiped away the sweat that started to his brow. La Carconte doubled-locked the door behind the jeweller.  
“我的故事从什么地方讲起呢，伯爵阁下？”贝尔图乔问道。 
“随便你好了，”基督山回答，“反正我什么都不知道。” 
“我想布沙尼神甫可能已告诉过大人了吧。” 
“是的，说过一点，但那是七八年以前的事了，我都忘记啦。” 
“那么我可以随意地讲，不必担心大人听了会厌倦” 
“说吧，贝尔图乔先生，你可以补充晚报的不足。” 
“事情要从一八一五年开始讲起。” 
“啊，”基督山说，“一八一五年可不是昨天。” 
“不，大人，可是这一切我都记得清清楚楚，就象是昨天刚发生的一样。我曾有一个哥哥，他在皇帝［指拿破仑——译注］手下服务，曾升到了中尉。他那一团全都是科西嘉人。这个哥哥是我唯一的朋友。我们都是孤儿，那时我五岁，他十八岁。他抚养我长大，把我当作他的儿子般看待，一八一四年，他结了婚。当皇帝从厄尔巴岛回来的时候，我的哥哥立刻就去参了军，在滑铁卢受了轻伤，随军退到了卢瓦尔。” 
“但这是‘百日’政变的历史，贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说道，“要是我没记错的话，这些事都已记载在史书上了。” 
“请原谅我，大人，但这些细节都必须讲一下的，而您答应过我肯耐心听的呀。” 
“说下去吧，我一定信守诺言。” 
“有一天，我们收到了一封信。我应该先告诉你，我们住的地方是一个名叫洛格里亚诺的小村子，就在科西嘉海峡的头上。他告诉我们说，军队已经解散了，他要取道经夏托鲁，克莱蒙费朗，蒲伊和尼姆回来，假如我有钱，他叫我托人带到尼姆去留给他，交给一个和我有交往的客栈老板。” 
“是走私线上的人吗？”基督山问道。 
“伯爵阁下，人总得活下去呀。” 
“当然啦，继续讲吧。” 
“我深爱我的哥哥，这我已告诉过大人了，我决定不托人带钱去，而是亲自带去给他。我有一千法郎，我留下了五百给我的嫂嫂爱苏泰，就带着其余那五百动身到尼姆去了。这是很容易办到的，因为我自己有一条船，而恰巧有一船货要运出去，一切都对我的计划很有利。但当我们把货装好以后，风向却逆转了，以致于我们四五天都进不了罗纳河。最后，我们终于成功了，就逆流向阿尔驶去。我在比里加答和布揆耳之间下船，取陆路向尼姆走去。” 
“我们现在快要讲到故事的本身了是吧？” 
“是的，大人，请原谅我，但是，您一会儿就会知道的，我所讲的话，都是省得不能再省的了。正在这个时候，那次著名的法国南部大屠杀发生了。有两三支流寇，叫什么德太龙，杜希蛮和格拉番的，公开地暗杀人，凡是被他们认为有拿破仑党嫌疑的，都有被杀的危险。您一定也听说过这次大屠杀吧，伯爵阁下？” 
“隐约听说过，那时候我正在离法国很远的地方。往下说吧。” 
“我一进尼姆，真可谓一脚踏进了血泊里，因为每走一步我都会遇到几个死尸，而那些杀人的强盗还在到处杀人，掳掠，纵火。一看到这种到处杀戮和破坏的景象，我吓慌了——不是为我自己（我不过是个老老实实的科西嘉渔夫，没有什么可害怕的，正巧相反，那正是我们走私贩子最有利的时机），而是为了我的哥哥，他是帝国时代的军人，刚从卢瓦尔军队里回来，凭他的制服和他的肩章，就够让人处处担心的了。我赶紧去找客栈老板。我的推测实在太准啦：我的哥哥是前一天傍晚到尼姆的，刚走到他想借宿的那间房子门口，就被人刺死了，我费尽心机地去寻找凶手，但谁都不敢把他们的名字告诉我，他们实在是吓坏啦。于是我想起了常常听人说起的法国司法机关，据说它是什么都不怕的，我就去要求见检察官。” 
“这位检察官的名字叫维尔福？”基督山随随便便地问道。 
“是的，大人，他是从马赛来的，曾做过马赛的代理检察官。他因为对王室忠心，所以升了一级，据说他就是最先把拿破仑从厄尔巴岛出走这个消息通知政府的人之一。” 
“那么，”基督山说道，“你们去见他了？” 
“‘先生，’我对他说，‘我的哥哥昨天在尼姆街上被人暗杀了，我不知道是谁杀死他的，但查究这件事是您的责任。您是这儿的法院院长，法院应该为它以前不能保护的人复仇。’‘你的哥哥是什么人？’他问道。‘科西嘉步兵大队的一个中尉。’‘那么说，是逆贼手下的一个军人罗？’‘是法国陆军里的一个军人。’‘哦，’他回答说，‘他用剑杀人，就在剑下亡身。’‘您错啦，先生，’我答道，‘他是被匕首刺死的。’‘你要我怎么办？’那个法官问道。‘我已经告诉过您啦，为他报仇。’‘去拿谁来报仇？’‘拿他的凶手呀。’‘我怎么知道谁是凶手呢？’‘吩咐他们去找呀。’‘为什么？你的哥哥和人吵架，是在一场决斗中被杀死的。所有这些老军人都无法无天的，皇帝时代，大家还能容忍他们，但现在可不同啦，因为我们南方人是不喜欢军人或混乱状态的。’“‘先生，’我回答说，‘我来请您干预这件事，不是为我自己，至于我，我痛哭一场，或为他报仇就行了，但我那可怜的哥哥有一个老婆，要是我万一发生了什么事，那个可怜的人就会饿死的，因为她一向靠我哥哥的薪水生活的。请为她在政府里弄一笔小小的抚恤金吧。’‘每一次革命总是有灾难的，’维尔福先生回答说。‘你的哥哥是这次灾难里的牺牲品。这是天灾，政府对他的家庭是毫无义务的。假如我们从各种复仇法上来判断，逆贼的追随者以前曾处处迫害王党，现在轮到他们当权，你的哥哥在今天多半会被判处死刑的。这种事情是很自然的，这是报应的定律嘛。’‘什么！’我大声叫道，‘你做法官的也对我这样说？’‘这些科西嘉人简直都疯了，我敢断定，’维尔福先生回答说，‘他们以为他们的老乡还依旧在做皇帝呢。你看错了时代啦，你应该在两个月之前来告诉我的，现在太晚了。赶快走吧，不然我就要用强迫手段了。’我望了他一会儿，想看看要是再向他请求会不会有什么收获，但这个人是石头做的。我走近他，低声说道，‘好吧，既然你把科西嘉人看得这样清楚，你就一定该知道，他们是绝不食言的。你以为杀死我哥哥是件好事，因为他是个拿破仑党，而你是一个保皇党！好吧，我，我也是一个拿破仑党，我现在向你宣布一件事，就是我要杀死你！从我向你宣布为亲人复仇的这个时候起，你就赶紧想法保护你自己吧，因为下一次我再碰见你的时候，你死期就到了！’就在他惊魂未定的时候，我打开门逃了出去。” 
“啊，啊！”基督山说道，“看你的外表很老实，贝尔图乔先生，想不到你竟会对一位检察官做出这样的事来！他知不知道‘为亲人复仇’这几个可怕的字是什么意思？” 
“他知道得非常清楚，所以从那个时候起，他不带卫队就决不敢外出，总把自己关在家里，并派人到处抓我。幸亏，我躲藏得非常好，他找不到我，于是他心慌了，不敢再住在尼姆了。他要求调职，而他确实也极其神通广大，他调到了凡尔赛。但是，您是知道的，一个科西嘉人既已发誓要为自己的亲人报仇，是不管路途远近的。所以，他的马车尽管走得快，却从来不曾超过我半天的路程，我步行跟踪着他。最要紧的事情是不但要杀死他，因为这种机会我有过不下一百次了，并且要杀死他而又不被人发觉，至少不被人捉住。我已不再是属于我自己了，因为我得保护自己和想法养活我的嫂嫂。接连三个月，我盯住了维尔福先生，那三个月里，只要他一出门，我就跟着他。终于，我发觉他偷偷摸摸地到欧特伊去了。我就跟着他到了那儿，我看他走进了我们现在的这所房子，只是，他并不从朝街的大门进来，他原是骑马或是乘车来的，但他却把车子或马留在小客栈里，从那扇门进来，您看，就是那边儿的那扇门！” 
基督山点了一下头，表示他能在黑暗中看到贝尔图乔所指的那扇门。 
“我在凡尔赛既然无事可做，就到欧特伊来竭力探听消息。假如我想偷袭他，最合适的地点显然就是躲在这儿等候他了。这年房子，正如门房告诉大人的，是属于维尔福的岳父圣·梅朗先生的。圣·梅郎先生住在马赛，所以他用不着这所乡村别墅。据说房子已租给了一个青年寡妇，大家只知道她叫‘男爵夫人’。 
“有一天傍晚，我正从墙外向里探望的时候，看见一个年轻而美丽的女人独自在花园里散步，花园里的情形不论从哪一个窗口都是望得到的，我猜测她是在等维尔福先生。当她走近时，能够辩别出她的面貌了，我便看出她才十八九岁，身材高挑，非常漂亮。而由于她穿着一件很松的绸衣，又没有什么东西挡住她的身体，所以我看出她不久就要做母亲了。过了一会儿，小门开了，进来了一个男人，那个青年女人就急忙向他迎上去。他们互相拥抱，亲密地接吻，一同回到了屋子里。这个男人就是维尔福。我当时想，当他回去的时候，尤其是假如他在晚上回去的话，他就会独自在花园里走一大段路的。” 
“你知不知道这个女人的名字？”伯爵问道。 
“不知道，大人，”贝尔图乔回答说，“你一会儿就会知道我当时没有时间去打听这件事。” 
“说下去”。 
“那天晚上，”贝尔图乔继续说道，“我本来可以杀死那个检察官的，但我对于地形还不够熟悉。我深恐不能立刻杀死他，要是他一喊，我可就逃不掉了。我把这件事拖到了他下次再来的时候。而为了不使这些逃过我的眼睛，我弄了一个窗子对着街道的房间，以便随时窥视花园里的情形。三天以后，约莫晚上七点钟的时候，我看见一个仆人骑着马疾驰着离开了房子，踏上了通往塞夫勒去的大道。我推测他是到凡尔赛去的，我没猜错。三个钟头之后，那个人满身灰尘地人回来了，他的使命已经完成了。十分钟之后，又来了一个男人，是徒步来的，裹着一件披风，他打开了花园的小门，一进去就把门关上了，我赶紧下来，虽然我还没看清维尔福的脸，但从我剧烈的心跳上就可以认出是他。我穿过街道，奔到了墙角上的一个邮筒前面。我以前就是用了这个邮筒的帮助朝花园里窥探的，这一次，只是望望已不能使我满足了，我从口袋里拿出小刀来，自己先试了一下，刀尖的确很锋利，然后就从墙上翻了过来。我做的第一件事就是跑去看看那扇门，原来他把钥匙留在了门上，但为小心起见，他把钥匙在锁孔里连转了两次。那么，没问题我可以从这扇门逃出去的。我把地形仔细地观察了一遍。花园是个长方形的，中间有一片光滑的草坪，四角有枝叶茂密的树丛，树丛中夹杂着矮树和花草。要从那扇门走到屋子里或从屋子里走到那扇门，维尔福先生必须经过一处树丛。 
“当时九月底，风很猛烈。大块的乌云扫过了天空，不时地把那苍白的月亮遮住了，这时，微弱的月光染白了那条通到屋子里去的石子路，但却无法穿透那黑压压的树丛，人要是躲在这茂密的树丛里，是决不会被发现的。我就躲在离维尔福必经之路最近的一个树丛里。我刚一躲进去，就好象听到在呼呼的风声里有呻吟声，您知道，或说得更确切些，您不知道，伯爵阁下，一个快要犯暗杀罪的人，总好象听到空中有低低的哭泣声。就这样过了两个钟头，在这期间，我好象觉得又有几次听到了这种呻吟的声音。后来午夜的钟声响了。当最后那一下钟声消逝的时候，我看到我刚才下来的那座秘密楼梯的窗口上透出了一点微弱的灯光。不久门开了，那个穿披风的人又出现了。那可怕的时机终于到啦，为这个时机我已准备了很久，所以我毫不心慌。我把小刀从口袋里摸出来，准备出击。那个穿披风的人向我走过来，但当他走近一些的时候，我看到他手里拿着一件武器。我是怕了，不是怕搏斗，而是怕失败。当他离我只有几步远的时候，我才看清那武器原来是一把铲子，这时他已在树丛边上停了下来，先向周围望了望，然后开始在地上掘起坑来。为了便于挖土，他把披风脱下来放在了草地上，我这才发觉在他的披风下面蒙着一样东西。当时，我承认，好奇心和我的仇恨混在了一起，我想看看维尔福究竟要在那儿干什么，所以我屏住呼吸，一动不动地站着，我的脑子里闪过了一个念头，而当我看到那检察官从他的披风底下抽出一个两呎长七八时深的木箱的时候，那个念头就更明确了。我等他把那只箱子放在坑里，然后，当他用脚把土踩结实，想消除一切痕迹的时候，我就冲了上去，把我的小刀一下插进了他的胸膛，一面大声说道：“我是琪奥凡尼·伯都西粤，拿你的命抵偿我哥哥的命，拿你的财宝给他的寡妇！你看见了吧，我这次报的仇比我所希望的还圆满！”我不知道他当时有没有听到这些话，我想他大概没有听到，因为他喊都没喊一声就倒了下去。我只觉得他的血喷了我一脸，我当时如醉如狂，而那血并没有使我更糊涂，却反而使我清醒过来。不一会儿，我便挖出了那只箱子，然后，为了不让人知道，我又填满了那个坑，把那把铲子抛到了墙外，冲到门口，把门牢牢地锁上，带走了那把钥匙。” 
“啊！”基督山说，“依我看，这是一桩小小的暗杀抢劫案。” 
“不，大人，”贝尔图乔答道，“这是为亲人复仇，外加赔偿损失。” 
“是笔不小的数目吧？” 
“那不是钱。” 
“啊！我记起来了，”伯爵回答说，“你不是说到过一个什么婴儿吧？” 
“是的，大人，我当时急忙奔到河边，在河堤上坐下来，用我的小刀撬开了箱子上的锁。在一块质地很好的纱布里，包着一个初生的婴儿。他的脸发紫，小手发青，显然是被人闷死的，但他的身体还没有冷，所以我有点犹豫不决，不敢把他扔到我脚边的河里。过了会儿，我好象觉得他的心脏微微地跳了一下，因为我曾在巴斯蒂亚的一家医院里当过助手，所以我就照医生的办法做起来——我把气吹到了他的肺里，使他的肺部膨胀起来。一刻钟之后，我看到他呼吸了，并且听到了一声微弱的喊叫。”于是我也喊了一声，但那是一声高兴的喊叫。“那么，上帝没有责骂我，”我喊道，“因为他允许我救活一条人命来抵偿我夺掉的那条命。” 
“你把那孩子怎么样了？”基督山问道。“对于一个想逃走的人，他无疑是个负担。” 
“我一点没想收留他，但我知道巴黎有一家医院是接受这种可怜虫的。当我经过关卡的时候，我便说这个孩子是我在路上捡到的，并问那家医院在什么地方。那只箱子证实了我的话，那块纱布也证明他的父母是有钱的人，我身上的血可以解释是从别人身上弄来的，也可以解释是从那孩子身上弄来的。他们没有刁难我，就把那家医院指给了我，原来医院就在恩弗街的头上。我先把那块布撕成两片，布上原先写着两个字，这样一来，一个字仍留在包孩子的那片布上，一个字便留在了我的手里，我来到医院门口，拉了拉铃，便飞也似的赶快逃走了。两个星期之后，我便回到了洛格里亚诺，我对爱苏泰说，‘你可以安心了，嫂嫂，伊斯雷死了，但他的仇已经报了。’她问我这句话是什么意思，我就把经过的一切都讲给她听了，‘琪奥凡尼，’她说道，‘你应该把那个孩子带回来。我们可以取代他失去的父母，给他取名叫贝尼代托［意大利文，意思是“祝福。——译注］，上帝看到我们做了这件好事，会祝福我们。’我把我藏着的半片布给了她，回答说，等我们的境况宽裕一点的时候，再去把他要回来。” 
“那片布绣的是什么字？”基督山问道。 
“Ｈ和Ｎ，上面有一个男爵的花环图纹。” 
“天哪，伯都西粤先生，你竟用起家谱学的术语来了！你是在哪儿研究家谱学的？” 
“就在您这儿，大人，在您手下当差是什么都学得到的。” 
“讲下去吧，我很想知道两件事。” 
“什么事，大人？” 
“这个小男孩后来怎么样了？因为我记得你告诉过我他是一个男孩子，贝尔图乔先生。” 
“没有，大人，我不记得曾告诉过您这一点。” 
“我以为你说过的，是我弄错了。” 
“不，您没有错，他的确是个男孩儿。但大人想知道两件事情，那第二件事是什么？” 
“第二件是你被人控告的那件罪案的经过，就是后来
Chapter 45 The Rain of Blood
 "AS THE JEWELLER returned to the apartment, he cast around him a scrutinizing glance--but there was nothing to excite suspicion, if it did not exist, or to confirm it, if it were already awakened. Caderousse's hands still grasped the gold and bank-notes, and La Carconte called up her sweetest smiles while welcoming the reappearance of their guest. 'Well, well,' said the jeweller, 'you seem, my good friends, to have had some fears respecting the accuracy of your money, by counting it over so carefully directly I was gone.'--'Oh, no,' answered Caderousse, 'that was not my reason, I can assure you; but the circumstances by which we have become possessed of this wealth are so unexpected, as to make us scarcely credit our good fortune, and it is only by placing the actual proof of our riches before our eyes that we can persuade ourselves that the whole affair is not a dream.' The jeweller smiled.--'Have you any other guests in your house?' inquired he.--'Nobody but ourselves,' replied Caderousse; 'the fact is, we do not lodge travellers--indeed, our tavern is so near the town, that nobody would think of stopping here.--'Then I am afraid I shall very much inconvenience you.'--'Inconvenience us? Not at all, my dear sir,' said La Carconte in her most gracious manner. 'Not at all, I assure you.'--'But where will you manage to stow me?'--'In the chamber overhead.'--'Surely that is where you yourselves sleep?'--'Never mind that; we have a second bed in the adjoining room.' Caderousse stared at his wife with much astonishment. 
"The jeweller, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood warming his back at the fire La Carconte had kindled to dry the wet garments of her guest; and this done, she next occupied herself in arranging his supper, by spreading a napkin at the end of the table, and placing on it the slender remains of their dinner, to which she added three or four fresh-laid eggs. Caderousse had once more parted with his treasure--the banknotes were replaced in the pocket-book, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole carefully locked in the cupboard. He then began pacing the room with a pensive and gloomy air, glancing from time to time at the jeweller, who stood reeking with the steam from his wet clothes, and merely changing his place on the warm hearth, to enable the whole of his garments to be dried. 
"'There,' said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine on the table, 'supper is ready whenever you are.'--'And you?' asked Joannes.--'I don't want any supper,' said Caderousse.--'We dined so very late,' hastily interposed La Carconte.--'Then it seems I am to eat alone,' remarked the jeweller.--'Oh, we shall have the pleasure of waiting upon you,' answered La Carconte, with an eager attention she was not accustomed to manifest even to guests who paid for what they took. 
"From time to time Caderousse darted on his wife keen, searching glances, but rapid as the lightning flash. The storm still continued. 'There, there,' said La Carconte; 'do you hear that? upon my word, you did well to come back.'--'Nevertheless,' replied the jeweller, 'if by the time I have finished my supper the tempest has at all abated, I shall make another start.'--'It's the mistral,' said Caderousse, 'and it will be sure to last till to-morrow morning.' He sighed heavily.--'Well,' said the jeweller, as he placed himself at table, 'all I can say is, so much the worse for those who are abroad.'--'Yes,' chimed in La Carconte, 'they will have a wretched night of it.' 
"The jeweller began eating his supper, and the woman, who was ordinarily so querulous and indifferent to all who approached her, was suddenly transformed into the most smiling and attentive hostess. Had the unhappy man on whom she lavished her assiduities been previously acquainted with her, so sudden an alteration might well have excited suspicion in his mind, or at least have greatly astonished him. Caderousse, meanwhile, continued to pace the room in gloomy silence, sedulously avoiding the sight of his guest; but as soon as the stranger had completed his repast, the agitated inn-keeper went eagerly to the door and opened it. 'I believe the storm is over,' said he. But as if to contradict his statement, at that instant a violent clap of thunder seemed to shake the house to its very foundation, while a sudden gust of wind, mingled with rain, extinguished the lamp he held in his hand. Trembling and awe-struck, Caderousse hastily shut the door and returned to his guest, while La Carconte lighted a candle by the smouldering ashes that glimmered on the hearth. 'You must be tired,' said she to the jeweller; 'I have spread a pair of white sheets on your bed; go up when you are ready, and sleep well.' 
"Joannes stayed for a while to see whether the storm seemed to abate in its fury, but a brief space of time sufficed to assure him that, instead of diminishing, the violence of the rain and thunder momentarily increased; resigning himself, therefore, to what seemed inevitable, he bade his host good-night, and mounted the stairs. He passed over my head and I heard the flooring creak beneath his footsteps. The quick, eager glance of La Carconte followed him as he ascended, while Caderousse, on the contrary, turned his back, and seemed most anxiously to avoid even glancing at him. 
"All these circumstances did not strike me as painfully at the time as they have since done; in fact, all that had happened (with the exception of the story of the diamond, which certainly did wear an air of improbability), appeared natural enough, and called for neither apprehension nor mistrust; but, worn out as I was with fatigue, and fully purposing to proceed onwards directly the tempest abated, I determined to obtain a few hours' sleep. Overhead I could accurately distinguish every movement of the jeweller, who, after making the best arrangements in his power for passing a comfortable night, threw himself on his bed, and I could hear it creak and groan beneath his weight. Insensibly my eyelids grew heavy, deep sleep stole over me, and having no suspicion of anything wrong, I sought not to shake it off. I looked into the kitchen once more and saw Caderousse sitting by the side of a long table upon one of the low wooden stools which in country places are frequently used instead of chairs; his back was turned towards me, so that I could not see the expression of his countenance--neither should I have been able to do so had he been placed differently, as his head was buried between his two hands. La Carconte continued to gaze on him for some time, then shrugging her shoulders, she took her seat immediately opposite to him. At this moment the expiring embers threw up a fresh flame from the kindling of a piece of wood that lay near, and a bright light flashed over the room. La Carconte still kept her eyes fixed on her husband, but as he made no sign of changing his position, she extended her hard, bony hand, and touched him on the forehead. 
"Caderousse shuddered. The woman's lips seemed to move, as though she were talking; but because she merely spoke in an undertone, or my senses were dulled by sleep, I did not catch a word she uttered. Confused sights and sounds seemed to float before me, and gradually I fell into a deep, heavy slumber. How long I had been in this unconscious state I know not, when I was suddenly aroused by the report of a pistol, followed by a fearful cry. Weak and tottering footsteps resounded across the chamber above me, and the next instant a dull, heavy weight seemed to fall powerless on the staircase. I had not yet fully recovered consciousness, when again I heard groans, mingled with half-stifled cries, as if from persons engaged in a deadly struggle. A cry more prolonged than the others and ending in a series of groans effectually roused me from my drowsy lethargy. Hastily raising myself on one arm, I looked around, but all was dark; and it seemed to me as if the rain must have penetrated through the flooring of the room above, for some kind of moisture appeared to fall, drop by drop, upon my forehead, and when I passed my hand across my brow, I felt that it was wet and clammy. 
"To the fearful noises that had awakened me had succeeded the most perfect silence--unbroken, save by the footsteps of a man walking about in the chamber above. The staircase creaked, he descended into the room below, approached the fire and lit a candle. The man was Caderousse--he was pale and his shirt was all blood. Having obtained the light, he hurried up-stairs again, and once more I heard his rapid and uneasy footsteps. A moment later he came down again, holding in his hand the small shagreen case, which he opened, to assure himself it contained the diamond,--seemed to hesitate as to which pocket he should put it in, then, as if dissatisfied with the security of either pocket, he deposited it in his red handkerchief, which he carefully rolled round his head. After this he took from his cupboard the bank-notes and gold he had put there, thrust the one into the pocket of his trousers, and the other into that of his waistcoat, hastily tied up a small bundle of linen, and rushing towards the door, disappeared in the darkness of the night. 
"Then all became clear and manifest to me, and I reproached myself with what had happened, as though I myself had done the guilty deed. I fancied that I still heard faint moans, and imagining that the unfortunate jeweller might not be quite dead, I determined to go to his relief, by way of atoning in some slight degree, not for the crime I had committed, but for that which I had not endeavored to prevent. For this purpose I applied all the strength I possessed to force an entrance from the cramped spot in which I lay to the adjoining room. The poorly fastened boards which alone divided me from it yielded to my efforts, and I found myself in the house. Hastily snatching up the lighted candle, I hurried to the staircase; about midway a body was lying quite across the stairs. It was that of La Carconte. The pistol I had heard had doubtless been fired at her. The shot had frightfully lacerated her throat, leaving two gaping wounds from which, as well as the mouth, the blood was pouring in floods. She was stone dead. I strode past her, and ascended to the sleeping chamber, which presented an appearance of the wildest disorder. The furniture had been knocked over in the deadly struggle that had taken place there, and the sheets, to which the unfortunate jeweller had doubtless clung, were dragged across the room. The murdered man lay on the floor, his head leaning against the wall, and about him was a pool of blood which poured forth from three large wounds in his breast; there was a fourth gash, in which a long table knife was plunged up to the handle. 
"I stumbled over some object; I stooped to examine--it was the second pistol, which had not gone off, probably from the powder being wet. I approached the jeweller, who was not quite dead, and at the sound of my footsteps and the creaking of the floor, he opened his eyes, fixed them on me with an anxious and inquiring gaze, moved his lips as though trying to speak, then, overcome by the effort, fell back and expired. This appalling sight almost bereft me of my senses, and finding that I could no longer be of service to any one in the house, my only desire was to fly. I rushed towards the staircase, clutching my hair, and uttering a groan of horror. Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six custom-house officers, and two or three gendarmes--all heavily armed. They threw themselves upon me. I made no resistance; I was no longer master of my senses. When I strove to speak, a few inarticulate sounds alone escaped my lips. 
"As I noticed the significant manner in which the whole party pointed to my blood-stained garments, I involuntarily surveyed myself, and then I discovered that the thick warm drops that had so bedewed me as I lay beneath the staircase must have been the blood of La Carconte. I pointed to the spot where I had concealed myself. 'What does he mean?' asked a gendarme. One of the officers went to the place I directed. 'He means,' replied the man upon his return, 'that he got in that way;' and he showed the hole I had made when I broke through. 
"Then I saw that they took me for the assassin. I recovered force and energy enough to free myself from the hands of those who held me, while I managed to stammer forth--'I did not do it! Indeed, indeed I did not!' A couple of gendarmes held the muzzles of their carbines against my breast.--'Stir but a step,' said they, 'and you are a dead man.'--'Why should you threaten me with death,' cried I, 'when I have already declared my innocence?'--'Tush, tush,' cried the men; 'keep your innocent stories to tell to the judge at N?mes. Meanwhile, come along with us; and the best advice we can give you is to do so unresistingly.' Alas, resistance was far from my thoughts. I was utterly overpowered by surprise and terror; and without a word I suffered myself to be handcuffed and tied to a horse's tail, and thus they took me to N?mes. 
"I had been tracked by a customs-officer, who had lost sight of me near the tavern; feeling certain that I intended to pass the night there, he had returned to summon his comrades, who just arrived in time to hear the report of the pistol, and to take me in the midst of such circumstantial proofs of my guilt as rendered all hopes of proving my innocence utterly futile. One only chance was left me, that of beseeching the magistrate before whom I was taken to cause every inquiry to be made for the Abbé Busoni, who had stopped at the inn of the Pont du Gard on that morning. If Caderousse had invented the story relative to the diamond, and there existed no such person as the Abbé Busoni, then, indeed, I was lost past redemption, or, at least, my life hung upon the feeble chance of Caderousse himself being apprehended and confessing the whole truth. Two months passed away in hopeless expectation on my part, while I must do the magistrate the justice to say that he used every means to obtain information of the person I declared could exculpate me if he would. Caderousse still evaded all pursuit, and I had resigned myself to what seemed my inevitable fate. My trial was to come on at the approaching assizes; when, on the 8th of September--that is to say, precisely three months and five days after the events which had perilled my life--the Abbé Busoni, whom I never ventured to believe I should see, presented himself at the prison doors, saying he understood one of the prisoners wished to speak to him; he added, that having learned at Marseilles the particulars of my imprisonment, he hastened to comply with my desire. You may easily imagine with what eagerness I welcomed him, and how minutely I related the whole of what I had seen and heard. I felt some degree of nervousness as I entered upon the history of the diamond, but, to my inexpressible astonishment, he confirmed it in every particular, and to my equal surprise, he seemed to place entire belief in all I said. And then it was that, won by his mild charity, seeing that he was acquainted with all the habits and customs of my own country, and considering also that pardon for the only crime of which I was really guilty might come with a double power from lips so benevolent and kind, I besought him to receive my confession, under the seal of which I recounted the Auteuil affair in all its details, as well as every other transaction of my life. That which I had done by the impulse of my best feelings produced the same effect as though it had been the result of calculation. My voluntary confession of the assassination at Auteuil proved to him that I had not committed that of which I stood accused. When he quitted me, he bade me be of good courage, and to rely upon his doing all in his power to convince my judges of my innocence. 
"I had speedy proofs that the excellent abbé was engaged in my behalf, for the rigors of my imprisonment were alleviated by many trifling though acceptable indulgences, and I was told that my trial was to be postponed to the assizes following those now being held. In the interim it pleased providence to cause the apprehension of Caderousse, who was discovered in some distant country, and brought back to France, where he made a full confession, refusing to make the fact of his wife's having suggested and arranged the murder any excuse for his own guilt. The wretched man was sentenced to the galleys for life, and I was immediately set at liberty." 
"And then it was, I presume," said Monte Cristo "that you came to me as the bearer of a letter from the Abbé Busoni?" 
"It was, your excellency; the benevolent abbé took an evident interest in all that concerned me. 
"'Your mode of life as a smuggler,' said he to me one day, 'will be the ruin of you; if you get out, don't take it up again.'--'But how,' inquired I, 'am I to maintain myself and my poor sister?' 
"'A person, whose confessor I am,' replied he, 'and who entertains a high regard for me, applied to me a short time since to procure him a confidential servant. Would you like such a post? If so, I will give you a letter of introduction to him.'--'Oh, father,' I exclaimed, 'you are very good.' 
"'But you must swear solemnly that I shall never have reason to repent my recommendation.' I extended my hand, and was about to pledge myself by any promise he would dictate, but he stopped me. 'It is unnecessary for you to bind yourself by any vow,' said he; 'I know and admire the Corsican nature too well to fear you. Here, take this,' continued he, after rapidly writing the few lines I brought to your excellency, and upon receipt of which you deigned to receive me into your service, and proudly I ask whether your excellency has ever had cause to repent having done so?" 
"No," replied the count; "I take pleasure in saying that you have served me faithfully, Bertuccio; but you might have shown more confidence in me." 
"I, your excellency?" 
"Yes; you. How comes it, that having both a sister and an adopted son, you have never spoken to me of either?" 
"Alas, I have still to recount the most distressing period of my life. Anxious as you may suppose I was to behold and comfort my dear sister, I lost no time in hastening to Corsica, but when I arrived at Rogliano I found a house of mourning, the consequences of a scene so horrible that the neighbors remember and speak of it to this day. Acting by my advice, my poor sister had refused to comply with the unreasonable demands of Benedetto, who was continually tormenting her for money, as long as he believed there was a sou left in her possession. One morning that he had demanded money, threatening her with the severest consequences if she did not supply him with what he desired, he disappeared and remained away all day, leaving the kind-hearted Assunta, who loved him as if he were her own child, to weep over his conduct and bewail his absence. Evening came, and still, with all the patient solicitude of a mother, she watched for his return. 
"As the eleventh hour struck, he entered with a swaggering air, attended by two of the most dissolute and reckless of his boon companions. She stretched out her arms to him, but they seized hold of her, and one of the three--none other than the accursed Benedetto exclaimed,--'Put her to torture and she'll soon tell us where her money is.' 
"It unfortunately happened that our neighbor, Vasilio, was at Bastia, leaving no person in his house but his wife; no human creature beside could hear or see anything that took place within our dwelling. Two held poor Assunta, who, unable to conceive that any harm was intended to her, smiled in the face of those who were soon to become her executioners. The third proceeded to barricade the doors and windows, then returned, and the three united in stifling the cries of terror incited by the sight of these preparations, and then dragged Assunta feet foremost towards the brazier, expecting to wring from her an avowal of where her supposed treasure was secreted. In the struggle her clothes caught fire, and they were obliged to let go their hold in order to preserve themselves from sharing the same fate. Covered with flames, Assunta rushed wildly to the door, but it was fastened; she flew to the windows, but they were also secured; then the neighbors heard frightful shrieks; it was Assunta calling for help. The cries died away in groans, and next morning, as soon as Vasilio's wife could muster up courage to venture abroad, she caused the door of our dwelling to be opened by the public authorities, when Assunta, although dreadfully burnt, was found still breathing; every drawer and closet in the house had been forced open, and the money stolen. Benedetto never again appeared at Rogliano, neither have I since that day either seen or heard anything concerning him. 
"It was subsequently to these dreadful events that I waited on your excellency, to whom it would have been folly to have mentioned Benedetto, since all trace of him seemed entirely lost; or of my sister, since she was dead." 
"And in what light did you view the occurrence?" inquired Monte Cristo. 
"As a punishment for the crime I had committed," answered Bertuccio. "Oh, those Villeforts are an accursed race!" 
"Truly they are," murmured the count in a lugubrious tone. 
"And now," resumed Bertuccio, "your excellency may, perhaps, be able to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for the first time--this garden, the actual scene of my crime--must have given rise to reflections of no very agreeable nature, and produced that gloom and depression of spirits which excited the notice of your excellency, who was pleased to express a desire to know the cause. At this instant a shudder passes over me as I reflect that possibly I am now standing on the very grave in which lies M. de Villefort, by whose hand the ground was dug to receive the corpse of his child." 
"Everything is possible," said Monte Cristo, rising from the bench on which he had been sitting; "even," he added in an inaudible voice, "even that the procureur be not dead. The Abbé Busoni did right to send you to me," he went on in his ordinary tone, "and you have done well in relating to me the whole of your history, as it will prevent my forming any erroneous opinions concerning you in future. As for that Benedetto, who so grossly belied his name, have you never made any effort to trace out whither he has gone, or what has become of him?" 
"No; far from wishing to learn whither he has betaken himself, I should shun the possibility of meeting him as I would a wild beast. Thank God, I have never heard his name mentioned by any person, and I hope and believe he is dead." 
"Do not think so, Bertuccio," replied the count; "for the wicked are not so easily disposed of, for God seems to have them under his special watch-care to make of them instruments of his vengeance." 
"So be it," responded Bertuccio, "all I ask of heaven is that I may never see him again. And now, your excellency," he added, bowing his head, "you know everything--you are my judge on earth, as the Almighty is in heaven; have you for me no words of consolation?" 
"My good friend, I can only repeat the words addressed to you by the Abbé Busoni. Villefort merited punishment for what he had done to you, and, perhaps, to others. Benedetto, if still living, will become the instrument of divine retribution in some way or other, and then be duly punished in his turn. As far as you yourself are concerned, I see but one point in which you are really guilty. Ask yourself, wherefore, after rescuing the infant from its living grave, you did not restore it to its mother? There was the crime, Bertuccio--that was where you became really culpable." 
"True, excellency, that was the crime, the real crime, for in that I acted like a coward. My first duty, directly I had succeeded in recalling the babe to life, was to restore it to its mother; but, in order to do so, I must have made close and careful inquiry, which would, in all probability, have led to my own apprehension; and I clung to life, partly on my sister's account, and partly from that feeling of pride inborn in our hearts of desiring to come off untouched and victorious in the execution of our vengeance. Perhaps, too, the natural and instinctive love of life made me wish to avoid endangering my own. And then, again, I am not as brave and courageous as was my poor brother." Bertuccio hid his face in his hands as he uttered these words, while Monte Cristo fixed on him a look of inscrutable meaning. After a brief silence, rendered still more solemn by the time and place, the count said, in a tone of melancholy wholly unlike his usual manner, "In order to bring this conversation to a fitting termination (the last we shall ever hold upon this subject), I will repeat to you some words I have heard from the lips of the Abbé Busoni. For all evils there are two remedies--time and silence. And now leave me, Monsieur Bertuccio, to walk alone here in the garden. The very circumstances which inflict on you, as a principal in the tragic scene enacted here, such painful emotions, are to me, on the contrary, a source of something like contentment, and serve but to enhance the value of this dwelling in my estimation. The chief beauty of trees consists in the deep shadow of their umbrageous boughs, while fancy pictures a moving multitude of shapes and forms flitting and passing beneath that shade. Here I have a garden laid out in such a way as to afford the fullest scope for the imagination, and furnished with thickly grown trees, beneath whose leafy screen a visionary like myself may conjure up phantoms at will. This to me, who expected but to find a blank enclosure surrounded by a straight wall, is, I assure you, a most agreeable surprise. I have no fear of ghosts, and I have never heard it said that so much harm had been done by the dead during six thousand years as is wrought by the living in a single day. Retire within, Bertuccio, and tranquillize your mind. Should your confessor be less indulgent to you in your dying moments than you found the Abbé Busoni, send for me, if I am still on earth, and I will soothe your ears with words that shall effectually calm and soothe your parting soul ere it goes forth to traverse the ocean called eternity." 
Bertuccio bowed respectfully, and turned away, sighing heavily. Monte Cristo, left alone, took three or four steps onwards, and murmured, "Here, beneath this plane-tree, must have been where the infant's grave was dug. There is the little door opening into the garden. At this corner is the private staircase communicating with the sleeping apartment. There will be no necessity for me to make a note of these particulars, for there, before my eyes, beneath my feet, all around me, I have the plan sketched with all the living reality of truth." After making the tour of the garden a second time, the count re-entered his carriage, while Bertuccio, who perceived the thoughtful expression of his master's features, took his seat beside the driver without uttering a word. The carriage proceeded rapidly towards Paris. 
That same evening, upon reaching his abode in the Champs Elysées, the Count of Monte Cristo went over the whole building with the air of one long acquainted with each nook or corner. Nor, although preceding the party, did he once mistake one door for another, or commit the smallest error when choosing any particular corridor or staircase to conduct him to a place or suite of rooms he desired to visit. Ali was his principal attendant during this nocturnal survey. Having given various orders to Bertuccio relative to the improvements and alterations he desired to make in the house, the Count, drawing out his watch, said to the attentive Nubian, "It is half-past eleven o'clock; Haidée will soon he here. Have the French attendants been summoned to await her coming?" Ali extended his hands towards the apartments destined for the fair Greek, which were so effectually concealed by means of a tapestried entrance, that it would have puzzled the most curious to have divined their existence. Ali, having pointed to the apartments, held up three fingers of his right hand, and then, placing it beneath his head, shut his eyes, and feigned to sleep. "I understand," said Monte Cristo, well acquainted with Ali's pantomime; "you mean to tell me that three female attendants await their new mistress in her sleeping-chamber." Ali, with considerable animation, made a sign in the affirmative. 
"Madame will be tired to-night," continued Monte Cristo, "and will, no doubt, wish to rest. Desire the French attendants not to weary her with questions, but merely to pay their respectful duty and retire. You will also see that the Greek servants hold no communication with those of this country." He bowed. Just at that moment voices were heard hailing the concièrge. The gate opened, a carriage rolled down the avenue, and stopped at the steps. The count hastily descended, presented himself at the already opened carriage door, and held out his hand to a young woman, completely enveloped in a green silk mantle heavily embroidered with gold. She raised the hand extended towards her to her lips, and kissed it with a mixture of love and respect. Some few words passed between them in that sonorous language in which Homer makes his gods converse. The young woman spoke with an expression of deep tenderness, while the count replied with an air of gentle gravity. Preceded by Ali, who carried a rose-colored flambeau in his hand, the new-comer, who was no other than the lovely Greek who had been Monte Cristo's companion in Italy, was conducted to her apartments, while the count retired to the pavilion reserved for himself. In another hour every light in the house was extinguished, and it might have been thought that all its inmates slept.  
“当珠宝商回到房间里来的时候，他小心地向四周环顾了一下，但房间里没什么可疑之处，即使他这时心里已有所怀疑，这种怀疑也是无法存在的，或无法证实的。卡德鲁斯的两手依旧紧紧地抓着他的金洋和钞票，而卡康脱女人则极力向客人装出一副善意的微笑。‘啊！’珠宝商说，‘你对于钱的数目似乎还有点不放心，我走了以后你又数过了吧。’‘不，不是的，’卡德鲁斯答道，‘只是这笔钱财来得这样突然，我们简直难以相信自己的好运气，所以只有把实实在在的物证放在眼前，我们才能相信自己不是在做梦。’珠宝商微笑了一下。‘你们家还有别的客人吗？’他问道。‘没有，’卡德鲁斯回答道，‘我们这儿不住旅客的，我们离镇子太近了，谁都不会想到要在这儿投宿。’‘那我恐怕会打扰你们了吧？’‘噢，老天爷，不！亲爱的先生，一点儿也不，’卡康脱女人说道，‘一点儿也不，我向你保证。’‘但你们让我睡在哪儿好呢？’‘楼上有房间。’‘可那不是你们的房间吗？’‘放心好了！我们的后房还有一张床。’卡德鲁斯带着惊奇的神情看着他的妻子。”这时，卡康脱女人已生起了壁炉里的火，以便客人把湿衣服烤干，那珠宝商一边背向着火取暖，一边哼着小曲。卡康脱女人还在桌子的一端铺上了一块餐巾，把他们吃剩的晚餐放在了上面，另外又加了三四只新鲜鸡蛋。卡德鲁斯这时已把他的钞票装进了皮夹子，金洋装进了钱袋里，全部财宝都小心地锁进了钱箱里。然后他面带忧郁，心事重重地开始在房间里踱来踱去，时不时地瞟一眼那珠宝商，珠宝商这时仍站在火炉前面，身上直冒热气，烤干了一面，又转身烤另一面。“‘喏，’卡康脱女人拿来一瓶酒放到了桌子上，说道，‘晚餐已经准备好了，随便你什么时候吃好了。’‘你们不和我一起坐下来吃一点吗？’珠宝商问道。‘我今天晚上不吃饭了。’卡德鲁斯说道。‘我们午饭吃得很晚。’卡康脱女人急忙插嘴说。‘那么看来我要一个人吃罗？’珠宝商说道。‘噢，我们可以陪你坐坐。’卡康脱女人回答说，态度非常殷勤，即使对于付钱吃饭的客人，她也是不常表现出这种态度的。” 
“卡德鲁斯锐利的目光不时地射向他的妻子，但只象电光一闪那样的短暂。暴风雨依旧咆啸着。‘喏！喏，’卡康脱女人说道，‘你听到了没有？说实话，你真回来对了。’‘可是，’珠宝商答道，‘要是我吃完饭以后暴风雨已经停了，我还是要去尝试一次的，看看能否完成我的旅程。’‘噢，’卡德鲁斯摇摇头说道，‘暴风雨是决不会停的，现在刮的是西北风，肯定要到明天早晨才会停下来，说完他重重地叹了一口气。’‘哎！’那珠宝商一边在桌子前面坐下来，一边说道，‘说来说去那些在船上的人可算倒霉了。’‘啊！’卡康脱女人附和着说道，‘碰到这样恶劣天气的晚上他们可真够苦的了。’“珠宝商开始吃起饭来，卡康脱女人则继续向他献小殷勤，象个小心的主妇一样。她平常是那样的古怪别扭，而这时却变成了一位关心他人的有礼貌的模范家庭主妇了。要是那珠宝商以前曾和她相处过，对于她这样明显的变化一定会表示惊奇的，因而也就一定会产生某种怀疑。这时，卡德鲁斯继续在房间里来回地走着，似乎不愿去看他的客人，当那个外乡人一吃完饭的时候，他就走到门口，把门打开。‘暴风雨好象过去了。’他说道。但似乎上天故意要驳斥他的话似的，就在这时突然打下了一个很响的霹雳，几乎要把房子连根拔起似的，同时突然地刮进来一阵夹带着雨水的狂风，忽地一下扑灭了他手里的那盏灯。卡德鲁斯急忙关上门，又回到了他的客人那里，而卡康脱女人则在壁炉里快要熄灭的炭火上点起了一支蜡烛。‘你一定很累了，’她向珠宝商说道，‘我已经在你的床上铺好了白床单。你去你的卧室休息吧，晚安！’“那珠宝商又等了一会儿，看看那暴风雨有没有平息下去，但他看到的是雷声和雨点都愈来愈大，于是便向两位主人道了晚安，上楼去了。他当时正从我的头顶上经过，他每上一级楼梯，我就听到楼梯格吱地叫一声。卡康脱女人那焦灼的目光跟随着他，而卡德鲁斯却正相反，他甚至连看都不朝那个方向看一眼。 
“这一切，虽然从那以后一直深深地印在我的脑海里，但当时却并没给我留下多大的印象。的确，所发生的这一切（除了那个有关钻石的故事听起来有点令人难以相信以外）似乎都是很自然的。当时我虽然很疲倦，但心里仍很想等暴风雨一停就继续上路，所以我决定利用这比较安静的时间来睡上几个钟头，以恢复我的体力和精力。那珠宝商的房间就在我的头顶上，他的一举一动我都能辩别出来，他先尽力布置了一番，准备舒舒服服地过一夜，然后就往床上一倒，我听到了床在他的重压之下发出的格吱格吱地响声。我的眼皮在不知不觉中变得沉重起来，我困极了，我当时并没怀疑会出什么事，所以也就不想去摆脱睡意的侵袭了。当我最后一次向房间里张望的时候，卡德鲁斯和他的妻子已经坐了下来，前者坐在一张木头的小矮登上，那种小矮凳在乡下常常是当作椅子用的。他背朝着我，所以我无法看到他脸上的表情，但即使他换个方向坐，我也是看不到的，因为他正把头埋在两手之间。卡康脱女人则带着一种藐视的眼神默默地望了他一会儿，然后她耸了耸肩，过去坐在了他的对面。正当这时，那快熄灭的炉火引着了旁边的一片木头，壁炉里又重新吐出个火苗，于是一片火光一瞬间照亮了房间里的一切。卡康脱女人的目光依旧在她丈夫的身上，由于他毫无改变姿势的样子，她就伸出她那只瘦骨嶙嶙的硬手，在他的前额上点了一下。 
“卡德鲁斯猛地打了个寒颤。那女人的嘴巴似乎在动，好象在讲话，但不知是因为她讲话的声音太低了，还是因为我的听觉已因浓浓的睡意而变迟钝了，总之她讲的话我一个字也没听清楚。甚至连我所看到的东西也都象隔了一重雾似的，自己也不知道究竟是醒着还是在做梦。最后，我合上了眼睛，失去了知觉。究竟我在这种毫无知觉的状态中睡了多久，自己也不知道，总之，我突然被一声枪声和可怕的惨叫声惊醒了。房间的地板上响起了踉跄的脚步声，接着，楼梯上重重地发出了一个响声，象是有样笨重的东西无力地倒下去似的。我的神志还没有完全清醒时就又听到了呻吟声和半窒息的叫喊声混成了一片，象是有人在进行一场垂死的挣扎。最后的那一声喊叫拖得很长，后来就愈来愈弱，渐渐地变成了呻吟，这一声喊叫一下子把我从迷迷糊糊的昏睡状态中唤醒了。我急忙用一只胳脯撑起身子，环顾周围，但见周围一片漆黑，我感觉到头顶上好象雨水已经渗透了楼上房间的地板，因为有一种潮湿的东西正一滴滴地落在我的前额上，我用手抹了一把，确觉得它湿粘糊糊的。 
“在那一阵可怕的声响之后，便是一片死一般的沉寂，只剩一个男人在我头顶上走动的声音。楼梯在他的脚下格吱格吱地响着。那个人走到楼下的房间里，走近壁炉前面，点起了一支蜡烛。那是卡德鲁斯，只见他脸色苍白，衬衫被鲜血染成了一片红色。点亮了灯以后，他急急忙忙地又上楼去了，于是我头顶上的房间里又响起了他那急促不安的脚步声。不久，他手里拿着那只鲛皮小盒子下来了，他打开盒子，看清楚了钻石的确仍旧在里面，然后，似乎又犹豫不定，不知该把它藏在哪个口袋里才好，他好象觉得哪个口袋都不够安全似的，最后他把它夹在了一条红手帕里，把手帕小心地盘在了他的头上。接着，他又从碗柜里拿出钞票和金洋，一包塞进了他的裤子口袋里，一包塞进了他的背心口袋里，匆匆地拿了两三件内衣捆成了一个小包袱，就冲到门口，消失在夜的黑暗里。 
“当时我一切都明白了。我为刚才所发生的事而责备自己，好象这桩罪案是我自己干的似的。我觉得似乎听到了一点微弱的呻吟声，就满心以为那不幸的珠宝商还没断气，我决定去救他，希望借此略微赎一下我的罪过，不是赎我自己所犯的那个罪，而是赎我刚才没有设法去阻止的那个罪。心里这么想着，我便使出了全身的力气从我所蜷伏的地方撞进了隔壁房间里去，我和里面的那房间原本就是隔着一块参差不齐的木板，经我用力一撞，木板就倒了下去，我发觉自己已进到了屋子里面。我赶快抓起那支点着的蜡烛，急忙奔上楼梯，才上到一半，我便踩着了一个横卧在楼梯上的人，几乎跌了一交。那是卡康脱女人的尸体！我听到的那声枪响无疑地是冲这个倒霉的女人开的，子弹可怕地撕裂了她的喉咙，留下了一个裂开的伤口，从那伤口里，从她的嘴里，血象泉水似的汩汩地冒了出来。看到这个可怜的人已救不活了，我便一步跨过去，走到了卧室里。卧室里乱得一塌糊涂，那场殊死搏斗无疑就是在这儿进行的，家具都打得东倒西歪的，床单拖到了地板上，无疑那是不幸的珠宝商紧紧地抱住了它的缘故。那被害的人正躺在地板上，头靠着墙壁，浑身鲜血淋淋，血从他胸部的三个伤口里直喷出来，在第四个伤口里，插着一把厨房里用的切菜刀，只剩刀把还露在外面。 
“我的脚踩到了一把手枪，这把手枪没有用过，大概是火药湿了的缘故。我向那珠宝商走去，他还没最后咽气，我的脚步也在格吱格吱地响，听到了我的脚步声，他睁开了眼，盯我一会儿，嘴唇动了几下，象是想说什么话，但立刻就断了气。这一幕凄惨的景象几乎使我失去了知觉，既然对这屋里的任何人我都无能为力了，我惟一的念头便是逃走，我冲到了楼梯口，两手紧捂着我那火烧般的太阳穴，嘴里惊恐地喊叫着，一到楼下的房间里，我就看见五六个海关关员和两三个宪兵已在那儿了。他们一下子就抓住了我，而我当时甚至连抵抗都不想抵抗，因为我的神志已经不清了，我想说话，却只能发出一些含糊不清的声音。我看见其中几个人冲我指了指，于是我低头一看才发现自己浑身都是血。原来从楼梯缝里漏到我身上的那一滴滴温热的雨是卡康脱女人的血。我用手指了一下我刚才躲藏的地方。‘他是什么意思？’一个宪兵问道。一个税务员走到了我所指的那个地方。‘他的意思是说，’他回来的时候说道，‘他是从这个洞里钻进来的，’一面指着我撞破板壁进来的那个地方。 
“直到这时我才明白他们原来把我当作杀人犯了。现在我的声音和体力都恢复了。我挣扎着想摆脱那抓住我的两个人，嘴里大喊道，‘不是我杀的！不是我杀的！’两个宪兵用他们马枪的枪口顶住了我的胸部，‘再动一动，’他们说，‘就崩了你！’‘你们为什么要用死来恐吓我，’我大喊道，‘我不是已经说过我是无罪的了吗？’‘你到尼姆去对法官讲你这个小小的故事吧。现在先跟我们走吧，我们所能给你的最好的忠告就是不要抵抗。’抵抗我是想都没想到的。我已经给吓坏了，我一言不发地让人给带上了手铐，绑在了一匹马的尾巴上，然后就在这种情景下到了尼姆。 
“按当时的情形推测，大概有一个官员一直尾随着我，跟到客栈附近便失掉了我的踪迹，他想我一定准备在那儿过夜的，就回去召集了他的人来，他们到达的时候，恰巧听到了那一声枪响，在这种罪证确凿的情形下捉住了我，所以我立刻明白了，要证明我的无辜已是很困难的了。我唯一的希望就是请求审问我的那位法官能去查询一位名叫布沙尼的神甫，因为他曾在凶杀案发生的前一天早晨到过杜加桥客栈。假如有关钻石的那个故事的，确是卡德鲁斯自己瞎编的，而世界上根本就没有布沙尼神甫这么个人，那么，我就没救了，除非能把卡德鲁斯本人捉到，而且能使他自己招供一切。 
“这样过了两个月，我应该感谢那位法官，因为他派人到处去寻找我想见的那个人。我已经放弃了一切希望。卡德鲁斯没有捉到，而秋季大审却一天天的迫近了，忽然，在九月八日那天，也就是说，正巧在事件发生后的三个月零五天，那位我认为已没希望再见到的布沙尼神甫，主动地到监狱里来了，说他知道有一个犯人想和他说话。他说，他在马赛时听说了那件事，所以就赶快来了却我的心愿了。您很容易想象得到，我是带着多么感激的情绪欢迎他的，我把我的所见所闻全都讲给了他听。当我讲到有关钻石的事，我觉得有点后怕，但使我万分惊奇的是，他竟加以证实了，认为一点不假，而使我同样惊奇的是，他对于我所讲的一切似乎全都相信。于是，我被他的仁爱感动了，同时看到他很熟悉我故乡的一切风俗习惯，又想到，我唯一真正的罪过就是那一个罪恶，只有从这样仁慈和博爱的人嘴里才能得到有力的宽恕，于是我就请他接受我的忏悔，而就在忏悔的封缄之下，我把阿都尔的事从头到尾详详细细地讲了出来。我这样作虽然是因为良心发现一时的冲动，但所产生的后果却如同经过冷静的思考以后的举动一样。我主动地承认阿都尔暗杀案证明了我这次的确没有犯罪。当他离开我的时候，叮嘱我不要气馁，他将竭力使法官相信我是无事的。 
“我很快就感觉到了那位好心的神甫为我出力已经见效了，因为牢里对我的严格看管已逐渐放松了，他们告诉我，我的审判已经延期，不参加当时举行的大审了，而延迟到下一次巡回审判时再开庭。在这期间，上天保佑卡德鲁斯终于被捉到了，他们在国外一个很远的地方发现了他，把他押回了法国，他全部招供了，并推诿着说那件事是他妻子的主意并怂恿他干的。他被判处终生到奴隶船［一种帆桨并用的船，船上的苦工都是囚犯，用铁链锁在一起，在舱底划船。——译注］上去当苦役，而我则立刻释放了。” 
“这以后，我想，”基督山说道，“你就拿了布沙尼神甫的那封推荐信到我这儿来了，是不是？” 
“是的，大人，那位仁慈的神甫显然很关心我的一切。‘你干走私贩子这一行当，’有一天他对我说道，‘假如再一个劲儿干下去，将来总有一天你会毁掉自己的，我劝你，出狱以后，还是选一个比较安全也比较令人尊敬的行业干干吧。’‘但是’，我问道，‘我怎么能养活我自己和我那可怜的嫂嫂呢？’‘有一个人，我是他的忏悔师，’他回答说，‘他相当尊敬我，不久以前，他请我给他找一个可靠的仆人。你愿不愿意去？假如愿意，我可以为你写一封推荐信你去投奔我那位朋友吧。’‘噢，神甫，’我喊道，‘那太好了！’‘但你必须向我发誓，将来决不会使我后悔我的这次推荐。’我正要举手发誓。‘不必了，’他说道，‘我了解科西嘉人，而且也很喜欢科西嘉人，我就依赖这一点！喏，拿着这个去吧，’他迅速地写了几行字以后说道。于是我就带了那封信来见大人，您接到信以后，就收下了我，我现在斗胆地问一下大人，您究竟觉得我有什么做得不好的地方没有？” 
“正巧相反，贝尔图乔，我始终觉得你很忠心，诚实，称职。我只发觉你有一个缺点，就是你还不够信任我。” 
“真的，大人，我不明白您这句话是什么意思！” 
“我的意思是：你既然有一个嫂嫂和一个继子，为什么却从来没对我提起过他们呢？” 
“唉！我又得追述我生平那个最痛苦的阶段。您大概想象得到，我出狱后急于想去探望和安慰我那亲爱的嫂嫂，于是便不再浪费时间，马上回科西嘉去了，但当我到达洛格里亚诺的时候，我发觉那所屋子里在办丧事，那儿曾发生过一幕极其可怕的事情，邻居们到今天都还记得它，并一直在谈论它。我那可怜的嫂嫂遵照我的忠告行事，拒绝再满足贝尼代托的不合理的要求，但他只要相信她还剩一个铜板，就不断地逼迫她，向她要钱。有一天早晨，他又向她要钱，并恐吓她，要是她不把他要的数目给他，就会发生极其严重的后果，说完，他就走了，一整天也不回来，让那心地善良的爱苏泰独自去悲伤痛苦。爱苏泰是真心真意地爱他，就和自己亲生的孩子一样的，想到他的这些行为，就不禁恸哭了一番，看到他还不回来，又不免伤心落泪，夜晚来临了，可是，她还是怀着一颗母亲的心在那儿挂念着他，耐心地等候他回来。 
“钟敲十一点了，他终于带着两个和他一路货色的同伴回来了。当可怜的爱苏泰站起来正要上前去拥抱她的浪子的时候，这三个恶棍捉住了她，其中的一个，或许就是那个混小子，我现在想起来还不免心惊胆战的，他大声说道，‘我们来让她吃点苦头，那样她就会乖乖地告诉我们钱在哪儿啦。’“不幸我们的邻居瓦西里奥当时碰巧到巴斯蒂亚去了，只留下他的妻子一人在家，除她以外，再没有别人能看到或听到我们家里所发生的任何事情了。贝尼代托的那两个残忍的同伴捉住了可怜的爱苏泰，爱苏泰决想不到他们会伤害她的，所以仍笑脸望着这些不久就要成为残害她的刽子手的人。另外那个恶棍开始把门窗都堵了起来，然后回到他无耻的帮凶那儿，三个人合力堵住了爱苏泰的嘴，那可怜的女人一看到这种可怕的情形，就大声喊叫起来。做完这一步以后，他们就用火盆去烙爱苏泰的脚，以为这样做就可以逼她说出我们那笔小小的积蓄究竟藏在什么地方。我那可怜的嫂嫂在挣扎的时候衣服着了火，他们为了要保全自己的性命，不得不放开了她。爱苏泰浑身着了火，她发疯般地冲到门口，门已经被反扣住了。她又飞奔到窗口，但窗户也已被堵住了。于是她的邻居听到了可怕的喊声，是爱苏泰在喊救命。但后来她的声音便窒息了，她的喊叫声渐渐地低了下去变成呻吟，第二天早晨，经过了一夜的焦急和恐怖，瓦西里奥的妻子终于鼓起勇气冒险出来，叫地方当局的人来打开了我们家的门，爱苏泰，尽管已被烧灼得体无完肤，却还没有断气。屋里的每一只抽屉和暗柜都被撬开了，凡是值得带走的东西都被劫走了。贝尼代托以后就再也没有在洛格里亚诺出现过，我也再没有见到过他，也不曾听人说起过有关他的任何事情。 
“在这些可怕的事发生以后，我就来侍奉大人了，我觉得再向大人提起他们未免太愚蠢了，因为贝尼代托已毫无下落，而我的嫂嫂也已经死了。” 
“你对那件事怎么看？”基督山问道。 
“这是一种惩罚，罚我所犯下的罪。”贝尔图乔答道。“噢，维尔福这一家人真都该天诛地灭！” 
“我相信会的。”伯爵用一种郁闷的口吻喃喃的说道。 
“现在，”贝尔图乔又说，“大人或许该明白了吧，我曾在这座花园里杀过一个人，而我又再回到这个地方，因此我的情绪很不好，以致劳您过问这其中的原因。因为，简单地说，我不敢肯定维尔福先生是不是就躺在我脚前那个他为自己孩子所掘的坟墓里。” 
“的确，一切事情都是可能的，”基督山离开了他所坐的长凳，站起身来，“甚至”，他低声接着说道，“或许那位检察官并没有死。布沙尼神甫说得不错，你应该把你的身世讲给我听的，因为这可以使我将来不至于对你再发生误会了。至于贝尼代托，他既然这样罪大恶极，你后来有没有设法去打听一下，他究竟到哪儿去了，在干些什么？” 
“没有！要是我知道他在哪儿，非但不会去找他，而且会赶紧逃开，象看见妖魔一般。我从没听人提到过他的名字，我真希望他已经死了。” 
“别那么希望，贝尔图乔，”伯爵说道。“恶人是不会就那样死的，因为上帝似乎还要关照他们，他要用他们来作他报复的工具。” 
“希望如此，”贝尔图乔说道。“我只求今生今世再也不要看见他。伯爵阁下，”管家卑下地躬身向前，又说道，“现在您一切都知道了。万能的主是我在天上的裁判官，而您就是我地上的裁判官。您难道不说几句安慰我的话吗？” 
“我的好朋友，我所能对你说的和布沙尼神甫对你说的一样。维尔福，你所杀的那个人，是应该受到你对他的那种惩罚的，这是公正的做法，因为他不该那样对待你，或许，他另外还犯过别的罪。贝尼代托，假如他还活着的话，会在某件事上变成上天报应的工具，他也会受到惩罚的，至于说到你，我看有一点上你是真正有罪的。你且自问一下，你把那婴儿从活埋他的坟墓里救出来以后，为什么不把他送还给他的母亲。这是罪过啊，贝尔图乔。” 
“没错，大人，这一点，正如您所说的，我干得很不对，在这一点上我简直象个懦夫。我把那个孩子救活以后，我最应尽的责任就是应当马上把他送还给他的母亲，但那样做，我就免不了要被人细细地盘问，而一经盘问，我自己多半就会被人捉住。而我当时却非常想活命，一半是为了我的嫂嫂，一半是出于我心里天生的那种傲性，我在报仇成功以后，总希望能干干净净地脱身。或许，也是那种贪生怕死的本能使我想避免冒险吧。噢！我真不如我那可怜的哥哥勇敢。” 
贝尔图乔说这几句话的时候用双手捂住了他的脸，而基督山则用一种无法描述的目光凝视着他。伯爵暂时沉默了一会儿，这短暂的沉默使周围的气氛更加严肃起来，尤其是在这样的时间，这样的地点。一会儿之后，他用一种完全不同于他平时那抑郁的口吻说道：“我们今天的游览就到此为止吧，为了正式结束这番谈话，我可以把布沙尼神甫亲口对我说过的几句话复述给你听：‘一切罪恶只有两帖药——时间和沉默。’贝尔图乔先生，现在让我一个人在这个花园里散一会儿步吧。你在那幕可怕的场景里是一个演员，旧地重游会引起你痛苦的回忆，但我却几乎可以说很高兴，觉得这处产业已增值不少了。你知道，贝尔图乔先生，树木之年之所以能使人觉得可爱就是因为它们能遮成树荫，而树荫之所以使人觉得可爱，就是因为它让人充满了幻想。我在这儿买了一座花园，原以为只是买了一块四面有围墙的地方而已，但现在这个地方却突然变成了一个鬼影憧憧的花园，而在契约上却不曾提到过。我喜欢鬼，我从没听说过死人用六千年时间所做的恶事能超过活人在一天之内所犯的罪过。去休息吧，贝尔图乔，安心去睡觉好了。在你临终的时候，假如你的忏悔师没有布沙尼神甫那样宽容，要是我还活着，你可以派人来找我，我可以找些话来安慰你的灵魂，使你安心地踏上那‘永恒’的崎岖的旅程。” 
贝尔图乔恭恭敬敬地鞠了一躬，便转身叹着气走了。当他走出了视线的时候，基督山就站起身来，向前走了几步，轻轻地说：“这儿，就在这棵梧桐底下，是那婴儿的坟墓。那个是通花园的小门。这个角上是通卧室的暗梯。这些情节我用不着记录在本子上，因为它们就在我眼前，就在我的脚下，就在我的周围，种种活生生的事实已给我勾出了一个轮廓。” 
伯爵又在花园里转了一遍，然后，重新登上他的马车，贝尔图乔看到他的主人面带深思的表情，就默默地去坐在了车夫旁边。马车迅速地向巴黎奔去。 
当天晚上，到达香榭丽舍大道的寓所以后，基督山伯爵到全房子各处去巡视了一遍，看起来象是对于每个转弯抹角都早已摸熟了似的。尽管他领头在前面走，却不曾摸错一扇门，走错一条走廊或楼梯，他总能一点不错地走到他想看的地方或房间。阿里陪着他作这次夜间视察。伯爵先向贝尔图乔吩咐了一番，告诉他房间里应如何改进和变换，然后又摸出表来看了一眼，对那在一旁恭候着的黑奴说道：“现在已经十一点半了，海黛就快到了。你有没有去通知一声那些法国女佣人？” 
阿里用手指了指留给希腊美人用的那几个房间，那些房间可说是和全屋的其他房间隔离的，当房门被帘子遮住的时候，人即使走遍全屋也不会发现那个地方还有一间客厅和两个房间。阿里在指过房间以后，又伸出了左手的三个手指，然后，把手垫在他的头下，闭上眼睛，做出一副睡觉的样子。 
“我懂了，”基督山说道，他很熟悉阿里的手势，“你的意思是告诉我有三个女佣人等在卧室里。” 
阿里连连点头。 
“夫人今天晚上一定很累了，”基督山又说道，“她一到立刻就会想休息的。叫那些法国女佣人不要问这问那地去打扰她，叫她们请安以后就退出去。你也防着一点儿，别让那些希腊女佣人和这些法国女佣有什么往来。” 
阿里鞠了一躬。正在这时，他们听到了喊门房的声音。大门开了，一辆马车驶进了车道，在门廊的台阶前停了下来。伯爵走下台阶，走到那已经打开的车门前面。他把他的手伸给了一个青年女子。那个青年女子全身都裹在一件绿色绣金的披风里，她把伯爵的手放到她的唇边，爱慕和崇敬地吻了一下。他们又用荷马写史诗的那种音调铿锵的语言交谈了几句话。 
那女人说话的时候表情非常亲切，而伯爵答话的时候神气也很温和庄重。这个女的不是别人，就是在意大利陪伴基督山那个可爱的希腊女人。阿里手里拿着一支玫瑰色的蜡烛在前领路，引她到了她的房间里，而伯爵也回到了他自己的房间里去休息了。一小时之后，屋子里的每一盏灯都熄灭了，也许府里所有的人都已经入睡了。 
Chapter 46 Unlimited Credit
 ABOUT TWO o'clock the following day a calash, drawn by a pair of magnificent English horses, stopped at the door of Monte Cristo and a person, dressed in a blue coat, with buttons of a similar color, a white waistcoat, over which was displayed a massive gold chain, brown trousers, and a quantity of black hair descending so low over his eyebrows as to leave it doubtful whether it were not artificial so little did its jetty glossiness assimilate with the deep wrinkles stamped on his features--a person, in a word, who, although evidently past fifty, desired to be taken for not more than forty, bent forwards from the carriage door, on the panels of which were emblazoned the armorial bearings of a baron, and directed his groom to inquire at the porter's lodge whether the Count of Monte Cristo resided there, and if he were within. While waiting, the occupant of the carriage surveyed the house, the garden as far as he could distinguish it, and the livery of servants who passed to and fro, with an attention so close as to be somewhat impertinent. His glance was keen but showed cunning rather than intelligence; his lips were straight, and so thin that, as they closed, they were drawn in over the teeth; his cheek-bones were broad and projecting, a never-failing proof of audacity and craftiness; while the flatness of his forehead, and the enlargement of the back of his skull, which rose much higher than his large and coarsely shaped ears, combined to form a physiognomy anything but prepossessing, save in the eyes of such as considered that the owner of so splendid an equipage must needs be all that was admirable and enviable, more especially when they gazed on the enormous diamond that glittered in his shirt, and the red ribbon that depended from his button-hole. 
The groom, in obedience to his orders, tapped at the window of the porter's lodge, saying, "Pray, does not the Count of Monte Cristo live here?" 
"His excellency does reside here," replied the concièrge; "but"--added he, glancing an inquiring look at Ali. Ali returned a sign in the negative. "But what?" asked the groom. 
"His excellency does not receive visitors to-day." 
"Then here is my master's card,--the Baron Danglars. You will take it to the count, and say that, although in haste to attend the Chamber, my master came out of his way to have the honor of calling upon him." 
"I never speak to his excellency," replied the concièrge; "the valet de chambre will carry your message." The groom returned to the carriage. "Well?" asked Danglars. The man, somewhat crest-fallen by the rebuke he had received, repeated what the concièrge had said. "Bless me," murmured Baron Danglars, "this must surely be a prince instead of a count by their styling him 'excellency,' and only venturing to address him by the medium of his valet de chambre. However, it does not signify; he has a letter of credit on me, so I must see him when he requires his money." 
Then, throwing himself back in his carriage, Danglars called out to his coachman, in a voice that might be heard across the road, "To the Chamber of Deputies." 
Apprised in time of the visit paid him, Monte Cristo had, from behind the blinds of his pavilion, as minutely observed the baron, by means of an excellent lorgnette, as Danglars himself had scrutinized the house, garden, and servants. "That fellow has a decidedly bad countenance," said the count in a tone of disgust, as he shut up his glass into its ivory case. "How comes it that all do not retreat in aversion at sight of that flat, receding, serpent-like forehead, round, vulture-shaped head, and sharp-hooked nose, like the beak of a buzzard? Ali," cried he, striking at the same time on the brazen gong. Ali appeared. "Summon Bertuccio," said the count. Almost immediately Bertuccio entered the apartment. "Did your excellency desire to see me?" inquired he. "I did," replied the count. "You no doubt observed the horses standing a few minutes since at the door?" 
"Certainly, your excellency. I noticed them for their remarkable beauty." 
"Then how comes it," said Monte Cristo with a frown, "that, when I desired you to purchase for me the finest pair of horses to be found in Paris, there is another pair, fully as fine as mine, not in my stables?" At the look of displeasure, added to the angry tone in which the count spoke, Ali turned pale and held down his head. "It is not your fault, my good Ali," said the count in the Arabic language, and with a gentleness none would have thought him capable of showing, either in voice or face--"it is not your fault. You do not understand the points of English horses." The countenance of poor Ali recovered its serenity. "Permit me to assure your excellency," said Bertuccio, "that the horses you speak of were not to be sold when I purchased yours." Monte Cristo shrugged his shoulders. "It seems, sir steward," said he, "that you have yet to learn that all things are to be sold to such as care to pay the price." 
"His excellency is not, perhaps, aware that M. Danglars gave 16,000 francs for his horses?" 
"Very well. Then offer him double that sum; a banker never loses an opportunity of doubling his capital." 
"Is your excellency really in earnest?" inquired the steward. Monte Cristo regarded the person who durst presume to doubt his words with the look of one equally surprised and displeased. "I have to pay a visit this evening," replied he. "I desire that these horses, with completely new harness, may be at the door with my carriage." Bertuccio bowed, and was about to retire; but when he reached the door, he paused, and then said, "At what o'clock does your excellency wish the carriage and horses to be ready?" 
"At five o'clock," replied the count. 
"I beg your excellency's pardon," interposed the steward in a deprecating manner, "for venturing to observe that it is already two o'clock." 
"I am perfectly aware of that fact," answered Monte Cristo calmly. Then, turning towards Ali, he said, "Let all the horses in my stables be led before the windows of your young lady, that she may select those she prefers for her carriage. Request her also to oblige me by saying whether it is her pleasure to dine with me; if so, let dinner be served in her apartments. Now, leave me, and desire my valet de chambre to come hither." Scarcely had Ali disappeared when the valet entered the chamber. "Monsieur Baptistin," said the count, "you have been in my service one year, the time I generally give myself to judge of the merits or demerits of those about me. You suit me very well." Baptistin bowed low. "It only remains for me to know whether I also suit you?" 
"Oh, your excellency!" exclaimed Baptistin eagerly. 
"Listen, if you please, till I have finished speaking," replied Monte Cristo. "You receive 1,500 francs per annum for your services here--more than many a brave subaltern, who continually risks his life for his country, obtains. You live in a manner far superior to many clerks who work ten times harder than you do for their money. Then, though yourself a servant, you have other servants to wait upon you, take care of your clothes, and see that your linen is duly prepared for you. Again, you make a profit upon each article you purchase for my toilet, amounting in the course of a year to a sum equalling your wages." 
"Nay, indeed, your excellency." 
"I am not condemning you for this, Monsieur Baptistin; but let your profits end here. It would be long indeed ere you would find so lucrative a post as that you have how the good fortune to fill. I neither ill-use nor ill-treat my servants by word or action. An error I readily forgive, but wilful negligence or forgetfulness, never. My commands are ordinarily short, clear, and precise; and I would rather be obliged to repeat my words twice, or even three times, than they should be misunderstood. I am rich enough to know whatever I desire to know, and I can promise you I am not wanting in curiosity. If, then, I should learn that you had taken upon yourself to speak of me to any one favorably or unfavorably, to comment on my actions, or watch my conduct, that very instant you would quit my service. You may now retire. I never caution my servants a second time--remember that." Baptistin bowed, and was proceeding towards the door. "I forgot to mention to you," said the count, "that I lay yearly aside a certain sum for each servant in my establishment; those whom I am compelled to dismiss lose (as a matter of course) all participation in this money, while their portion goes to the fund accumulating for those domestics who remain with me, and among whom it will be divided at my death. You have been in my service a year, your fund has already begun to accumulate--let it continue to do so." 
This address, delivered in the presence of Ali, who, not understanding one word of the language in which it was spoken, stood wholly unmoved, produced an effect on M. Baptistin only to be conceived by such as have occasion to study the character and disposition of French domestics. "I assure your excellency," said he, "that at least it shall be my study to merit your approbation in all things, and I will take M. Ali as my model." 
"By no means," replied the count in the most frigid tones; "Ali has many faults mixed with most excellent qualities. He cannot possibly serve you as a pattern for your conduct, not being, as you are, a paid servant, but a mere slave--a dog, who, should he fail in his duty towards me, I should not discharge from my service, but kill." Baptistin opened his eyes with astonishment. 
"You seen incredulous," said Monte Cristo who repeated to Ali in the Arabic language what he had just been saying to Baptistin in French. The Nubian smiled assentingly to his master's words, then, kneeling on one knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count. This corroboration of the lesson he had just received put the finishing stroke to the wonder and stupefaction of M. Baptistin. The count then motioned the valet de chambre to retire, and to Ali to follow to his study, where they conversed long and earnestly together. As the hand of the clock pointed to five the count struck thrice upon his gong. When Ali was wanted one stroke was given, two summoned Baptistin, and three Bertuccio. The steward entered. "My horses," said Monte Cristo. 
"They are at the door harnessed to the carriage as your excellency desired. Does your excellency wish me to accompany him?" 
"No, the coachman, Ali, and Baptistin will go." The count descended to the door of his mansion, and beheld his carriage drawn by the very pair of horses he had so much admired in the morning as the property of Danglars. As he passed them he said--"They are extremely handsome certainly, and you have done well to purchase them, although you were somewhat remiss not to have procured them sooner." 
"Indeed, your excellency, I had very considerable difficulty in obtaining them, and, as it is, they have cost an enormous price." 
"Does the sum you gave for them make the animals less beautiful," inquired the count, shrugging his shoulders. 
"Nay, if your excellency is satisfied, it is all that I could wish. Whither does your excellency desire to be driven?" 
"To the residence of Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin." This conversation had passed as they stood upon the terrace, from which a flight of stone steps led to the carriage-drive. As Bertuccio, with a respectful bow, was moving away, the count called him back. "I have another commission for you, M. Bertuccio," said he; "I am desirous of having an estate by the seaside in Normandy--for instance, between Havre and Boulogne. You see I give you a wide range. It will be absolutely necessary that the place you may select have a small harbor, creek, or bay, into which my corvette can enter and remain at anchor. She draws only fifteen feet. She must be kept in constant readiness to sail immediately I think proper to give the signal. Make the requisite inquiries for a place of this description, and when you have met with an eligible spot, visit it, and if it possess the advantages desired, purchase it at once in your own name. The corvette must now, I think, be on her way to Fécamp, must she not?" 
"Certainly, your excellency; I saw her put to sea the same evening we quitted Marseilles." 
"And the yacht." 
"Was ordered to remain at Martigues." 
"'Tis well. I wish you to write from time to time to the captains in charge of the two vessels so as to keep them on the alert." 
"And the steamboat?" 
"She is at Chalons?" 
"Yes." 
"The same orders for her as for the two sailing vessels." 
"Very good." 
"When you have purchased the estate I desire, I want constant relays of horses at ten leagues apart along the northern and southern road." 
"Your excellency may depend upon me." The Count made a gesture of satisfaction, descended the terrace steps, and sprang into his carriage, which was whirled along swiftly to the banker's house. Danglars was engaged at that moment, presiding over a railroad committee. But the meeting was nearly concluded when the name of his visitor was announced. As the count's title sounded on his ear he rose, and addressing his colleagues, who were members of one or the other Chamber, he said,--"Gentlemen, pardon me for leaving you so abruptly; but a most ridiculous circumstance has occurred, which is this,--Thomson & French, the Roman bankers, have sent to me a certain person calling himself the Count of Monte Cristo, and have given him an unlimited credit with me. I confess this is the drollest thing I have ever met with in the course of my extensive foreign transactions, and you may readily suppose it has greatly roused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to call on the pretended count--if he were a real count he wouldn't be so rich. But, would you believe it, 'He was not receiving.' So the master of Monte Cristo gives himself airs befitting a great millionaire or a capricious beauty. I made inquiries, and found that the house in the Champs Elysées is his own property, and certainly it was very decently kept up. But," pursued Danglars with one of his sinister smiles, "an order for unlimited credit calls for something like caution on the part of the banker to whom that order is given. I am very anxious to see this man. I suspect a hoax is intended, but the instigators of it little knew whom they had to deal with. 'They laugh best who laugh last!'" 
Having delivered himself of this pompous address, uttered with a degree of energy that left the baron almost out of breath, he bowed to the assembled party and withdrew to his drawing-room, whose sumptuous furnishings of white and gold had caused a great sensation in the Chaussée d'Antin. It was to this apartment he had desired his guest to be shown, with the purpose of overwhelming him at the sight of so much luxury. He found the count standing before some copies of Albano and Fattore that had been passed off to the banker as originals; but which, mere copies as they were, seemed to feel their degradation in being brought into juxtaposition with the gaudy colors that covered the ceiling. The count turned round as he heard the entrance of Danglars into the room. With a slight inclination of the head, Danglars signed to the count to be seated, pointing significantly to a gilded arm-chair, covered with white satin embroidered with gold. The count sat down. "I have the honor, I presume, of addressing M. de Monte Cristo." 
The count bowed. "And I of speaking to Baron Danglars, chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and member of the Chamber of Deputies?" 
Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the baron's card. 
Danglars felt the irony and compressed his lips. "You will, I trust, excuse me, monsieur, for not calling you by your title when I first addressed you," he said, "but you are aware that we are living under a popular form of government, and that I am myself a representative of the liberties of the people." 
"So much so," replied Monte Cristo, "that while you call yourself baron you are not willing to call anybody else count." 
"Upon my word, monsieur," said Danglars with affected carelessness, "I attach no sort of value to such empty distinctions; but the fact is, I was made baron, and also chevalier of the Legion of Honor, in return for services rendered, but"-- 
"But you have discarded your titles after the example set you by Messrs. de Montmorency and Lafayette? That was a noble example to follow, monsieur." 
"Why," replied Danglars, "not entirely so; with the servants,--you understand." 
"I see; to your domestics you are 'my lord,' the journalists style you 'monsieur,' while your constituents call you 'citizen.' These are distinctions very suitable under a constitutional government. I understand perfectly." Again Danglars bit his lips; he saw that he was no match for Monte Cristo in an argument of this sort, and he therefore hastened to turn to subjects more congenial. 
"Permit me to inform you, Count," said he, bowing, "that I have received a letter of advice from Thomson & French, of Rome." 
"I am glad to hear it, baron,--for I must claim the privilege of addressing you after the manner of your servants. I have acquired the bad habit of calling persons by their titles from living in a country where barons are still barons by right of birth. But as regards the letter of advice, I am charmed to find that it has reached you; that will spare me the troublesome and disagreeable task of coming to you for money myself. You have received a regular letter of advice?" 
"Yes," said Danglars, "but I confess I didn't quite comprehend its meaning." 
"Indeed?" 
"And for that reason I did myself the honor of calling upon you, in order to beg for an explanation." 
"Go on, monsieur. Here I am, ready to give you any explanation you desire." 
"Why," said Danglers, "in the letter--I believe I have it about me"--here he felt in his breast-pocket--"yes, here it is. Well, this letter gives the Count of Monte Cristo unlimited credit on our house." 
"Well, baron, what is there difficult to understand about that?" 
"Merely the term unlimited--nothing else, certainly." 
"Is not that word known in France? The people who wrote are Anglo-Germans, you know." 
"Oh, as for the composition of the letter, there is nothing to be said; but as regards the competency of the document, I certainly have doubts." 
"Is it possible?" asked the count, assuming all air and tone of the utmost simplicity and candor. "Is it possible that Thomson & French are not looked upon as safe and solvent bankers? Pray tell me what you think, baron, for I feel uneasy, I can assure you, having some considerable property in their hands." 
"Thomson & French are perfectly solvent," replied Danglars, with an almost mocking smile: "but the word unlimited, in financial affairs, is so extremely vague." 
"Is, in fact, unlimited," said Monte Cristo. 
"Precisely what I was about to say," cried Danglars. "Now what is vague is doubtful; and it was a wise man who said, 'when in doubt, keep out.'" 
"Meaning to say," rejoined Monte Cristo, "that however Thomson & French may be inclined to commit acts of imprudence and folly, the Baron Danglars is not disposed to follow their example." 
"Not at all." 
"Plainly enough. Messrs. Thomson & French set no bounds to their engagements while those of M. Danglars have their limits; he is a wise man, according to his own showing." 
"Monsieur," replied the banker, drawing himself up with a haughty air, "the extent of my resources has never yet been questioned." 
"It seems, then, reserved for me," said Monte Cristo coldly, "to be the first to do so." 
"By what right, sir?" 
"By right of the objections you have raised, and the explanations you have demanded, which certainly must have some motive." 
Once more Danglars bit his lips. It was the second time he had been worsted, and this time on his own ground. His forced politeness sat awkwardly upon him, and approached almost to impertinence. Monte Cristo on the contrary, preserved a graceful suavity of demeanor, aided by a certain degree of simplicity he could assume at pleasure, and thus possessed the advantage. 
"Well, sir," resumed Danglars, after a brief silence, "I will endeavor to make myself understood, by requesting you to inform me for what sum you propose to draw upon me?" 
"Why, truly," replied Monte Cristo, determined not to lose an inch of the ground he had gained, "my reason for desiring an 'unlimited' credit was precisely because I did not know how much money I might need." 
The banker thought the time had come for him to take the upper hand. So throwing himself back in his arm-chair, he said, with an arrogant and purse-proud air,--"Let me beg of you not to hesitate in naming your wishes; you will then be convinced that the resources of the house of Danglars, however limited, are still equal to meeting the largest demands; and were you even to require a million"-- 
"I beg your pardon," interposed Monte Cristo. 
"I said a million," replied Danglars, with the confidence of ignorance. 
"But could I do with a million?" retorted the count. "My dear sir, if a trifle like that could suffice me, I should never have given myself the trouble of opening an account. A million? Excuse my smiling when you speak of a sum I am in the habit of carrying in my pocket-book or dressing-case." And with these words Monte Cristo took from his pocket a small case containing his visiting-cards, and drew forth two orders on the treasury for 500,000 francs each, payable at sight to the bearer. A man like Danglars was wholly inaccessible to any gentler method of correction. The effect of the present revelation was stunning; he trembled and was on the verge of apoplexy. The pupils of his eyes, as he gazed at Monte Cristo dilated horribly. 
"Come, come," said Monte Cristo, "confess honestly that you have not perfect confidence in Thomson & French. I understand, and foreseeing that such might be the case, I took, in spite of my ignorance of affairs, certain precautions. See, here are two similar letters to that you have yourself received; one from the house of Arstein & Eskeles of Vienna, to Baron Rothschild, the other drawn by Baring of London, upon M. Laffitte. Now, sir, you have but to say the word, and I will spare you all uneasiness by presenting my letter of credit to one or other of these two firms." The blow had struck home, and Danglars was entirely vanquished; with a trembling hand he took the two letters from the count, who held them carelessly between finger and thumb, and proceeded to scrutinize the signatures, with a minuteness that the count might have regarded as insulting, had it not suited his present purpose to mislead the banker. "Oh, sir," said Danglars, after he had convinced himself of the authenticity of the documents he held, and rising as if to salute the power of gold personified in the man before him,--"three letters of unlimited credit! I can be no longer mistrustful, but you must pardon me, my dear count, for confessing to some degree of astonishment." 
"Nay," answered Monte Cristo, with the most gentlemanly air, "'tis not for such trifling sums as these that your banking house is to be incommoded. Then, you can let me have some money, can you not?" 
"Whatever you say, my dear count; I am at your orders." 
"Why," replied Monte Cristo, "since we mutually understand each other--for such I presume is the case?" Danglars bowed assentingly. "You are quite sure that not a lurking doubt or suspicion lingers in your mind?" 
"Oh, my dear count," exclaimed Danglars, "I never for an instant entertained such a feeling towards you." 
"No, you merely wished to be convinced, nothing more; but now that we have come to so clear an understanding, and that all distrust and suspicion are laid at rest, we may as well fix a sum as the probable expenditure of the first year, suppose we say six millions to"-- 
"Six millions!" gasped Danglars--"so be it." 
"Then, if I should require more," continued Monte Cristo in a careless manner, "why, of course, I should draw upon you; but my present intention is not to remain in France more than a year, and during that period I scarcely think I shall exceed the sum I mentioned. However, we shall see. Be kind enough, then, to send me 500,000 francs to-morrow. I shall be at home till midday, or if not, I will leave a receipt with my steward." 
"The money you desire shall be at your house by ten o'clock to-morrow morning, my dear count," replied Danglars. "How would you like to have it? in gold, silver, or notes?" 
"Half in gold, and the other half in bank-notes, if you please," said the count, rising from his seat. 
"I must confess to you, count," said Danglars, "that I have hitherto imagined myself acquainted with the degree of all the great fortunes of Europe, and still wealth such as yours has been wholly unknown to me. May I presume to ask whether you have long possessed it?" 
"It has been in the family a very long while," returned Monte Cristo, "a sort of treasure expressly forbidden to be touched for a certain period of years, during which the accumulated interest has doubled the capital. The period appointed by the testator for the disposal of these riches occurred only a short time ago, and they have only been employed by me within the last few years. Your ignorance on the subject, therefore, is easily accounted for. However, you will be better informed as to me and my possessions ere long." And the count, while pronouncing these latter words, accompanied them with one of those ghastly smiles that used to strike terror into poor Franz d'Epinay. 
"With your tastes, and means of gratifying them," continued Danglars, "you will exhibit a splendor that must effectually put us poor miserable millionaires quite in the shade. If I mistake not you are an admirer of paintings, at least I judged so from the attention you appeared to be bestowing on mine when I entered the room. If you will permit me, I shall be happy to show you my picture gallery, composed entirely of works by the ancient masters--warranted as such. Not a modern picture among them. I cannot endure the modern school of painting." 
"You are perfectly right in objecting to them, for this one great fault--that they have not yet had time to become old." 
"Or will you allow me to show you several fine statues by Thorwaldsen, Bartoloni, and Canova?--all foreign artists, for, as you may perceive, I think but very indifferently of our French sculptors." 
"You have a right to be unjust to them, monsieur; they are your compatriots." 
"But all this may come later, when we shall be better known to each other. For the present, I will confine myself (if perfectly agreeable to you) to introducing you to the Baroness Danglars--excuse my impatience, my dear count, but a client like you is almost like a member of the family." Monte Cristo bowed, in sign that he accepted the proffered honor; Danglars rang and was answered by a servant in a showy livery. "Is the baroness at home?" inquired Danglars. 
"Yes, my lord," answered the man. 
"And alone?" 
"No, my lord, madame has visitors." 
"Have you any objection to meet any persons who may be with madame, or do you desire to preserve a strict incognito?" 
"No, indeed," replied Monte Cristo with a smile, "I do not arrogate to myself the right of so doing." 
"And who is with madame?--M. Debray?" inquired Danglars, with an air of indulgence and good-nature that made Monte Cristo smile, acquainted as he was with the secrets of the banker's domestic life. 
"Yes, my lord," replied the servant, "M. Debray is with madame." Danglars nodded his head; then, turning to Monte Cristo, said, "M. Lucien Debray is an old friend of ours, and private secretary to the Minister of the Interior. As for my wife, I must tell you, she lowered herself by marrying me, for she belongs to one of the most ancient families in France. Her maiden name was De Servières, and her first husband was Colonel the Marquis of Nargonne." 
"I have not the honor of knowing Madame Danglars; but I have already met M. Lucien Debray." 
"Ah, indeed?" said Danglars; "and where was that?" 
"At the house of M. de Morcerf." 
"Ah, ha, you are acquainted with the young viscount, are you?" 
"We were together a good deal during the Carnival at Rome." 
"True, true," cried Danglars. "Let me see; have I not heard talk of some strange adventure with bandits or thieves hid in ruins, and of his having had a miraculous escape? I forget how, but I know he used to amuse my wife and daughter by telling them about it after his return from Italy." 
"Her ladyship is waiting to receive you, gentlemen," said the servant, who had gone to inquire the pleasure of his mistress. "With your permission," said Danglars, bowing, "I will precede you, to show you the way." 
"By all means," replied Monte Cristo; "I follow you."  
第二天下午两点钟，一辆低轮马车，由两匹健壮的英国马拉着，停在了基督山的门前。车门的嵌板上绘着一套男爵的武器图案，一个人从车门里探出半个身子来，吩咐他的马夫到门房里去问一下基督山伯爵是否住在这儿，是否在家。这个人穿着一件蓝色的上衣，上衣的纽扣也是蓝色的，一件白色的背心，背心上挂着一条粗金链子，棕色的裤子，头发很黑，在前额上垂得很低，几乎覆盖了他的眉毛，尤其是，这一头漆黑油亮的头发和那刻在他脸上的深深的皱纹极不相称，很使人怀疑那是假发。总之，这个人虽然明显地年纪约五十开外，却想使人觉得他还不到四十岁的样子。他一面等回报，一面观察着这座房子，而且观察得相当仔细，可以说多少已有点失礼了，但他所能看到的只有花园和那些来来往往穿制服的仆人。这个人的目光很敏锐，但这种敏锐的目光与其说可显示出他的聪明，倒不如说可显示出他的奸诈，他的两片嘴唇成直线形的，而且相当薄，以致当它们闭拢的时候，几乎完全被压进了嘴巴里。总之，他那大而凸出的颧骨（那是确定的奸诈的证明），他那扁平的前额，他那大得超过耳朵的后脑骨，他那大而庸俗的耳朵，在一位相面先生的眼中，这副尊容实在是不配受人尊敬的，但人们之所以尊敬他，当然是因为他有那几匹雄壮美丽的马，有那佩在前襟上的大钻石，和那从上衣的这一边纽孔拖到那一边纽孔的红缎带。 
马夫遵照他的吩咐，上前敲敲门房的窗子，问道：“基督山伯爵是住在这儿吗？” 
“大人是住在这儿，”门房回答说。然后他向阿里询问地瞟了一眼，阿里做了一个否定的姿势，于是他又说道，“但是“但是什么？”马夫问道。 
“大人今天不会客。” 
“那么收下我主人的这张名片吧。是腾格拉尔男爵阁下！别忘了把这张名片交给伯爵，并请转达伯爵，我家主人是到众议院去的路上特地绕道来拜访他的。” 
“我是不能和大人说话的，”门房答道，“你的意思可以由贴身跟班代为转达。”马夫回到马车那儿。“怎么样？”腾格拉尔问道，马夫碰了一鼻子灰回来，未免有点生气，就把他和那门房交谈的经过一五一十地都告诉了他的主人。 
“噢！”男爵说道，“那么这位先生一定是一位亲王了，他必须被称为大人，除了他的跟班以外谁都无法近他的身。这没有关系，我收到了一张他的由我支付的贷款通知，所以我必须来看他一次，问问他什么时候要钱用。” 
于是，腾格拉尔重重地往座位上一靠，用一种从街对面都听得到的高声向他的车夫喊道：“到众议院！” 
此时，基督山已经看到了男爵，他一得到男爵来访的通知，就从他楼上的百叶窗里，用一副上等的剧场看演出时用的望远镜。把对方研究了一番，其观察之细密并不亚于腾格拉尔对他房屋，花园和仆人的制服的观察。“那家伙的相貌的确很丑陋，” 
伯爵一边把他的望远镜装进一只象牙盒子里，一边用一种厌恶的口吻说道。“前额平坦而微凹，象条赤练蛇；头颅圆圆的，象兀鹰；鼻子又尖又勾，象荒鹫；这样一副尊容为什么大家不一见就厌恶地躲开呢？阿里！”他喊道，并在那面紫铜的铜锣上敲了一下。阿里出现了。“叫贝尔图乔来！”伯爵说道。 
贝尔图乔几乎立刻就走了进来。“是大人叫我吗？”他问道。 
“不错，”伯爵答道。“你一定看到刚才停在门口的那两匹马了吧？” 
“是的，大人，我注意到了它们长得非常俊美。” 
“那么这是怎么回事？”基督山皱了皱眉头说道，“我要你给我买巴黎最好的马，可是巴黎还有两匹马象我的马一样漂亮，而那两匹马却不在我的马厩里？” 
看到伯爵露出这种不悦的神色以及用如此的口吻说话，阿里的脸色都白了，赶紧低下了头。“这不是你的错，我的好阿里，”伯爵用阿拉伯语说道，而且语气很温和，凡是有感情的人，听了都不能不相信他确是出于至诚的。“这不是你的错。你并没有自认懂得挑选英国马。” 
阿里的脸上又显出了欣慰的表情。 
“大人，”贝尔图乔说道，“我给您买马的时候，您所讲的那两匹马是不出售的。” 
基督山耸了耸肩膀。“管家先生，”他说道，“看来你还不明白：只要肯出钱，一切东西都是肯出卖的。” 
“伯爵阁下或许不知道吧？腾格拉尔先生这两匹马是花了一万六千法朗买的。” 
“好极了！那么给他三万二，一个银行家是决不肯错过一个让本钱翻番的机会的。” 
“大人真的诚心想买吗？”管家问道。 
基督山望了望他的管家，象是很惊奇他竟会提出这个问题似的。“我今天傍晚要去拜客，”他说道。“我希望这两匹马能换上全新的鞍具，套在我的车上等在门口。” 
贝尔图乔鞠了一躬，看样子是要走了，但当他走到门口的时候，又停了下来说道：“大人准备在几点钟出去拜客？” 
“五点钟。”伯爵回答说。 
“请大人原谅我冒昧地说一句话，”管家用一种哀求的口吻说道，“现在已经是两点钟了。” 
“这我知道。”基督山只回答了这一句话。于是他转过身去对阿里说道，“把我马厩里所有的马都牵到夫人的窗口前面去让她挑选几匹她心爱的配在她的车子上用。再代我问一声，她愿不愿意和我一起用餐，假如她愿意的话，把午餐摆到她的房间里去现在你可以走了，叫我的贴身跟班到这儿来。” 
阿里刚一出去跟班就立刻走进房间里来了。 
“是巴浦斯汀先生，”伯爵说道，“你已经在我这里干了一年了，我通常总是用一年的时间来判断我手下人的优点或缺点的。你非常合我的意。”巴浦斯汀深深地鞠了一躬。“我现在只想知道究竟我是不是也合你的意？” 
“噢，伯爵阁下！”巴浦斯汀急切地大声说道。 
“请你听我先把话讲完了，”基督山说道。“你在这儿服务每年可得到一千五百法朗。这比许多勇敢的下级军官，那些经常为国家去冒生命危险的人拿得还多。你吃的饭菜即使那些工作比你辛苦十倍的商店职员和普通官吏，都希望能享用的。 
你自己虽也是一个仆人，但却有别的仆人服侍你。而且，除了这一千五百法朗的工资以外，你在代我购买化妆用品上面，一年中还可以另外再赚上我一千五百法朗。” 
“噢，大人！” 
“我并不是在抱怨你，巴浦斯汀先生，这不算什么过份。可是，我希望这种事应该停止了。你在别的地方决不会有这样的好运气，找到这样一个位置的。我对我手下人并不刻薄，我从不骂人，我不爱动怒，有过错我都能原谅，但决不疏忽或忘记。我的吩咐通常是很简短的，但却很明确，我宁可吩咐两遍，甚至三遍，总要求我所吩咐的话能完听懂。我有足够的钱可以打听到我想知道的一切，而我关照过你，我是非常好奇的。所以，假如我发现你在背后谈论我，批评我的行为，或监视我的举动，你就得立刻离开这里。我警告我的仆人是从来不超出一次的。你现在已经受到警告了，去吧。”巴浦斯汀鞠了一躬，向门口走去。“我忘记告诉你了，”伯爵又说道，‘我为家里的每一个仆人每年都提出一笔相当数目的款子，那些我不得不开除的人当然是得不到这笔钱的，他们的那一份就提作了公积金，留给那些始终跟随着我的仆人，到我死的时候再分。你已经在我手下干了一年了，已经开始有了财产。让它继续增加吧。” 
这一番话是当着阿里的面说的，他无动于衷地站在一旁，但对巴浦斯汀先生却产生了很大的作用，这种作用，只有那些曾研究过法国佣人的个性和气质的人才能觉察得到。“我向大人保证，”他说，“我要努力学习，以求在各方面合乎您的心意，我要以阿里先生为榜样。” 
“完全不必做，”伯爵用极其严厉的口吻说道，“阿里固然有最出色的优点，但也有许多缺点。所以，不要学他的榜样，阿里是个例外。他从不拿工资，他不是一个仆人，他是我的奴隶，我的狗。要是他办事不称职，我不是开除他，而是杀死他。”巴浦斯汀睁大了眼睛。 
“你不相信吗？”基督山说道。他把刚才用法语对巴浦斯汀说的那番话又用阿拉伯语向阿里复述了一遍。那黑奴听了他主人的话，脸上立刻露出同意的微笑，然后单膝跪下，恭恭敬敬地吻了一下伯爵的手。巴浦斯汀先生刚才所受的教训经这一番证实他吓呆了。于是伯爵示意叫那贴身跟班出去又示意叫阿里跟他到他的书房里去，他们在那儿又谈了很久。到了五点钟，伯爵在他的铜锣上连敲了三下。敲一下是召阿里，两下召巴浦斯汀，三下召贝尔图乔，管家进来了。“我的马呢！” 
基督山问道。 
“已经配在大人的车子上了。伯爵阁下要不要我陪您一起去？” 
“不用了，只要车夫，阿里和巴浦斯汀就行了。” 
伯爵走到了他的大厦门口，看到那两匹早晨还配在腾格拉尔的车子上、使他羡慕不已的马现在已配在了他自己的车子上。当他走近它们的时候，他说道，“它们的确长得很英俊，你买得不错，尽管已经晚了一点。” 
“真的，大人，我弄到它们可真不容易，而且花了一大笔钱呢。” 
“你花的那笔钱有没有使它的美丽减色？”伯爵耸耸肩问道。 
“没有，只要大人满意，我也就心满意足了。伯爵阁下准备上哪儿去？” 
“到安顿大马路腾格拉尔男爵府上去。” 
这一番谈话是站在台阶上说的，从台阶上跨下几级石阶便是马车的跑道。贝尔图乔正要走开，伯爵又把他叫了回来。 
“我还有一件事叫你去办，贝尔图乔先生，”他说道，“我很想在诺曼底海边购置一处产业。例如，在勒阿弗尔和布洛涅之间这一带就很好。你瞧，我给了你一个很宽的范围。你挑选的地方务必要有一个小港，小溪或小湾，可以让我的帆船进去抛锚。它吃水只有十五。它必须时刻准备在那儿，无论昼夜，无论什么时候，我一发信号，就得立刻出航。去打听一下这样的地方，假如有合适的地点，去看一下，要是它合乎我的要求就立刻用你的名义把它买下来。我想，那只帆船现在一定启程往费康去了，是不是？” 
“当然啦，大人，在我们离开马赛的那天晚上，我亲眼看见它出海的。” 
“那只游艇呢？” 
“奉命留在了马地苟斯。” 
“很好！我希望你时常写信给两条船的船长，别让他们在那儿睡大觉。” 
“那艘汽船呢？大人对它有什么吩咐吗？” 
“它在夏龙，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“给它的命令可以和给两艘帆船的一样。” 
“我懂了。” 
“当你买好那处我想买的产业以后，你就在往南去的路上和往北去的路上每隔三十哩设一个换马的驿站。” 
“大人放心交给我去办好了。” 
伯爵赞许地微笑了一下，跨下台阶，跳进了马车里，于是，马车就由那两匹用高价买来的骏马拉着，以令人难以相信的速度急驶起来，一直奔到银行家的府邸门前才停住。腾格拉尔此时正在召开一次铁路委员会议。当仆人进来通报来宾姓名的时候，会议已快结束了。一听到伯爵的衔头，他就起身向他的同事（其中有许多是上议院或下议院的议员）宣布说，“诸位，请务必原谅我中途退席，但是，你们猜是怎么回事？罗马的汤姆生·弗伦奇银行介绍了一位所谓基督山伯爵给我，委托我们给他开无限贷款的担保书。我和外国银行的往来虽广，但象这样滑稽的事倒还是第一次遇见，你们大概也猜得到，这件事已引起了我的好奇心。我今天早晨亲自去拜访过那位假伯爵。假如他是一个真的伯爵，他就不会那样有钱。‘大人今天不会客！’你们觉得这句话如何？连皇亲国戚，绝色美女都算在内，有象基督山老板这样狂妄的吗？至于别的，那座房子在我看来倒还富丽堂皇，地点在香榭丽舍大道，而且，我听说，还是他自己的产业。但一个贷款的担保书，”腾格拉尔带着他那种刻毒的微笑继续说道，“倒实在使接受它的银行家非常为难。我想这肯定是个骗局。只是他们不知道他们的对手是谁。谁笑到最后，谁才是笑得最好。” 
这一番语气傲慢的话讲完后，男爵简直有点喘不过气来了。他离开了他的客人，走进了一间以金白两色布置的客厅里，这间客厅在安顿大马路很有名气，他特地吩咐把来客引进那个房间，希望以它那眩目的有名气的华丽来压倒对方。他发觉伯爵正在那儿欣赏几幅临摹阿尔巴纳［阿尔巴纳（一五七八—一六六○）意大利画家。——译注］和法托尔［法托尔：意大利画家。——译注］的画品，这几幅画和那俗不可耐的镀金的天花板极不相称，它们虽然只是临摹的复制品，那位银行家却是当作真迹买来的。伯爵听到腾格拉尔进来的声音就转过身来。腾格拉尔略微点了点头，就指着一只圈椅请伯爵就坐，圈椅上配着白缎绣金的椅套。伯爵坐了下来。 
“幸会幸会，我想，我是荣幸地在同基督山先生谈话吧？” 
伯爵欠了一下身。 
“先生想必就是荣誉爵士，众议院的议员，腾格拉尔男爵吧。”他把男爵名片上所能找到的头衔全都背了出来。 
这位来宾的话里充满着讽刺意味，腾格拉尔当然都听了出来。他把两片嘴唇紧闭了一会儿，象是先要把自己的怒气抑制下去然后才敢讲话似的。这样过了一会儿，他才转向他的客人说道：“我相信，您一定会原谅我刚才没有称呼您的头衔，但您是知道的，我们现在的政府是一个平民化的政府，而我本人又是平民利益的一个代表。” 
“原来如此，”基督山答道，“您自己尽管保存着男爵的头衔，而在称呼别人的时候，却赞成免除他们的头衔。” 
“老实说，”腾格拉尔装出一副不在乎的神气说道，“我并不看重这种虚荣，事实上，我已被封为男爵，又被封为了荣誉爵士，因为我为政府效了些微劳，但是——” 
“您在学蒙特马伦赛和拉斐叶特［拉斐叶特（一七五七—一八三四），法国资产阶级革命时代的革命家，原为亿爵，因赞成民主政治，自动放弃头衔。——译注］这两位先生的榜样，捐弃了您的头衔是不是？哦，你要是挑选为人处世的模范，除了这两位高贵的先生以外，的确再找不到更好的了。” 
“哦，”腾格拉尔神色尴尬地答道，“我的意思并不是说我已完全抛弃了我的头衔。譬如说，对仆人，我认为” 
“是的，对您的仆人，您是‘老爷’，对新闻记者，您是‘先生’，对您的宪政民主党员，您是‘公民’。这种区别在一个君主立宪政府的背景之下是非常普遍的。我完全懂得。” 
腾格拉尔咬了咬他的嘴唇，知道在这种论争上他显然不是基督山的对手，于是他赶紧改换方向，来谈他比较熟悉的题目。 
“伯爵阁下，”他欠了欠身说道，“我收到了罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的一张通知书。” 
“我很乐于知道，男爵阁下，我必须向您请求一种特权，请允许我象您的仆人一样地来称呼您，这是一种坏习惯，是从那些虽然不再封赠爵位却还能找得到男爵的国家里学来的。说到那一张通知书，我很高兴它已经到了您的手里，这可以使我不必自我介绍了，因为自我介绍总是很不方便的。那么说，您已经接到通知了？” 
“是的，”腾格拉尔说道，“但我承认我没有全看懂。” 
“真的吗？” 
“为此，我曾专程去拜访过您，想请您把其中的某些部分向我解释一下。” 
“现在请说吧，阁下，我就在这儿，而且很愿意帮您弄明白。” 
“哦，”腾格拉尔说道，“在那封信里，我相信还带在身边，” 
说到这里，他伸手去摸他上衣的内口袋，“是的，在这儿！嗯，这封信授权基督山伯爵阁下可以在我们的银行里无限贷款。” 
“请问，那样简单的事实还有什么地方需要解释呢，男爵阁下？” 
“没什么别的，阁下，只是这‘无限’两个字。” 
“哦，这两个字难道不是法文吗？您知道，写这封信的人是个英德混血儿。” 
“噢，这封信的文字是无可争议的，但说到它的可靠性，这就不同了。” 
“难道，”伯爵装出一种极其直率的神气和口吻说道，“难道汤姆生·弗伦奇银行已被人认为是不可靠和不能履行债务的银行了吗？见鬼，这真可恶，因为我有很可观的一笔资产在他们手里呢。” 
“汤姆生·弗伦奇银行是信誉最高的银行，”腾格拉尔带着一个近乎嘲弄的微笑答道，“我并不是说他们履行债务的信用或能力如何，而是说‘无限’这两个字，这两个字从财务的角度上说太空泛了。” 
“您的意思是说它没有一个限度是不是？”基督山说道。 
“一点不错，这正是我想说的意思，”腾格拉尔说道，“喏，凡是空泛的东西也就是可疑的东西，而先哲说‘凡是可疑的都是危险的！” 
“就是说．”基督山接着说道“尽管汤姆生·弗伦奇银行也许是自愿干蠢事，而腾格拉尔男爵阁下是决不会学他的榜样了。” 
“这话怎么讲，伯爵阁下？” 
“很简单，就是说，汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的业务是无限的，而腾格拉尔先生的却是有限的，不错，他的确象他刚才所引证的那位先哲一样聪明。” 
“阁下！”那银行家带着一种傲慢的神气挺直了身子答道，“我的资金数目或我的业务范围还从来还没有人问过呢。” 
“那么，”基督山冷冷地说道，“看来该由我来首先发问了。” 
“凭什么权利？” 
“凭您要求解释的权利，您的要求看来已表露出您举棋不定呢。” 
腾格拉尔咬了一下他的嘴唇。这是他第二次被这个人打败了，而且这一次是败在他自己的阵地上。他的态度虽然客气，却满含着嘲弄，而且几乎到了失礼的程度，完全是一副矫揉造作。基督山却正相反，他脸上带着世界上最温文尔雅的微笑，露出一种直率的神气，他这种态度可以随心所欲地表现出来，使他占了许多便宜。 
“好吧，阁下，”在一阵短暂的沉默之后，腾格拉尔又重新拾起话头说道，“我当努力设法来使自己明白这两个字的含意，只请您告诉我您究竟准备要从我这儿提取多大的数目。” 
“哦，真的，”基督山回答道，决定丝毫不放弃他所占的优势，“我之所以想要个‘无限’贷款的担保，正是因为我不知道自己要用多少钱。” 
那银行家认为这回该轮到他来占上风了。他向圈椅背上用力一靠，带着一种傲慢的神气和富翁的骄矜说道：“请您不必犹豫，只管提出您的要求。到那时您就会知道：腾格拉尔银行的资金不论多么有限，却依旧能应付得了最大数目的贷款，即使您要一百万！” 
“对不起，我没听清楚。”基督山插嘴道。 
“我是说一百万！”腾格拉尔带着一种目中无人的骄傲神气重复道。 
“我拿一百万够做什么用的？”伯爵说道，“上帝啊，阁下，假如我只要一百万我就用不着为这样的一个区区之数来开具担保啦。一百万，我在皮夹里或是首饰盒里只是带着一百万的。”基督山一边说着一边从他的口袋里摸出了一只装名片的小盒子，从盒子里抽出两张每张票面五十万法朗凭票即付的息票来象腾格拉尔这样的人单靠刺激是不够的，要使他屈服就必须完全把他压倒。这当头一棒很奏效，那银行家不禁打了个寒颤，顿时头晕目眩起来。他呆瞪瞪地望着基督山，瞳孔扩得大大的。 
“好了”基督山说道，“您老实承认您不十分信任汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的负责能力吧。这种事很简单。我早就想到了有那种可能性，我虽然不是个商人，倒也采取了一些预防措施。这儿还有两封信，是和写给您的那封一样。一封是维也纳阿斯丹·爱斯克里斯银行给罗斯希尔德男爵的，另外一封是伦敦巴林银行给拉费德［拉费德（一七六七—一八四四），法国金融家。——译注］先生的。现在，阁下，您只要说一句话，我就可以免得在这件事上再使您感到不安了，而把我的贷款委托书寄给那两家银行。” 
这一场斗争结束了，腾格拉尔被征服了。伯爵很随便地把那两封从德国和伦敦来的信交给了他，而他则战战兢兢地打开信，相验那两个签名的真实性，而且查验得这样仔细，要不是这是那位银行家在头脑不清醒时做出来的举动，无疑是等于在侮辱基督山了。 
“噢，阁下！这三个签名要值好几千万哪，”腾格拉尔说道，并站起来向他面前的这位活财神示意致敬。“三家银行的三封无限贷款委托书！原谅我，伯爵阁下，我虽然已不再怀疑了，但却不得不表示惊奇。” 
“噢，象您这样的一位银行家是不会这样容易表示惊奇的，”基督山以一种极客气的态度说道。“这么说您可以借点钱给我用了，是不是？” 
“说吧，伯爵阁下，我悉听您的吩咐。” 
“哦，”基督山答道，“既然我们已互相了解了，我想，大概是这样的吧？”腾格拉尔鞠躬表示同意。“您相信您的头脑里一点儿怀疑都没有了吗？” 
“噢，伯爵阁下！”腾格拉尔大声说道，“我丝毫也没怀疑过呀。” 
“没有，没有！您只是想确定自己没有冒险而已，但现在我们已经了解得很清楚了，再没有什么不信任或怀疑的地方，那么我们暂且来定个第一年的大约的数目吧——嗯，六百万吧。” 
“六百万！”腾格拉尔不由得倒抽了一口冷气，“当然罗，悉听尊便。” 
“将来要是不够用的话，”基督山态度非常随便地继续说道，“哦，当然，我会再向您要的，按我目前的打算，我在法国最多不过住一年而已，而在那期间里，我想难得会超过我所提的那个数目。总之，我们将来再说吧。明天请送五十万法朗给我，算是我的第一笔提款。我早晨在家，要是我不在的话，我会把收条留给我的管家的。” 
“您所要的钱在明天早晨十点钟送到府上，伯爵阁下，”腾格拉尔答道，“您愿意要什么——金洋、银币、还是钞票？” 
“假如方便的话，请给一半金洋，另外那一半给钞票吧。”伯爵一边说，一边站起身来。 
“我必须向您承认，伯爵阁下，”腾格拉尔说道，“我一向自以为凡是欧洲的大富翁我没有不知道的，可是您，您的财产似乎也相当多，而我却一无所知。您的财富是最近才有的吗？” 
“不，阁下，”基督山答道，“恰恰相反，我的财富起源很古老。最初的遗赠人指定在若干年内不得动用这笔财宝，于是在那期间，由于利息的累积，使资金增加了三倍，不久以前才期满得以动用这笔财富，而到我的手里还是最近几年的事。所以，您对于这件事不知道是极其自然的。但是，关于我和我的财产，您不久就会知道得比较清楚了。”当伯爵说到最后这句话的时候，脸上露出了那种曾使弗兰兹·伊辟楠非常害怕的阴冷的微笑。 
“假如我没猜错的话，”腾格拉尔又说道，“您大概很喜欢绘画吧，至少，从我进来的时候看到您对我的画那样注意和欣赏可以看得出来。您既有这种嗜好，收藏的珍品想必也一定琳琅满目吧，相比之下我们这种可怜的小富翁可就暗然失色了。但假如您允许的话，我很高兴领您去看看我的画库，里面都是古代大师的杰作，这一点可以担保。我是看不惯现代派的绘画的。” 
“您反对现代派的画是很对的，因为它们有一大共同的缺点——就是它们所经历的时间不长，还不够古老。” 
“不然就让我领您去看几幅美丽的人像怎么样？是杜华尔逊［杜华尔逊（一七七○—一八四四），丹麦雕刻家。——译注］，巴陀罗尼［巴陀罗尼（一七七七—一八五○）意大利雕刻家。——译注］和卡诺瓦［卡诺瓦（一七五七—一八二二），意大利雕刻家。——译注］的手笔——都是外国艺术家。您大概能看得出，我对我们法国的雕刻家是非常漠视的。” 
“您有权轻视他们，阁下，他们是您的同胞嘛。” 
“但那些或许可以等到将来我们更熟一点的时候再看。。现在，假如您同意的话，我先介绍您见一下腾格拉尔男爵夫人。请原谅我这样性急，伯爵阁下，但象您这样有钱有势的人，一定会受到十分殷勤的接待的。” 
基督山欠了欠身，表示他接受了对方的敬意，于是那金融家立刻摇了摇一只小铃，一个身穿华丽制服的仆人应声而至。 
“男爵夫人在不在家？”腾格拉尔问道。 
“在的，男爵阁下。”那人回答说。 
“没有客人吧？” 
“不，男爵阁下，夫人有客人。” 
“您想不想见一下夫人的客人？或许您不愿意见生客？” 
“不，”基督山带笑答道，“我不敢想能有那种权利。” 
“谁和夫人在一起，？是德布雷先生吗？”腾格拉尔带着一种很和蔼的神气问道，基督山看了不禁微笑了一下，象是已看穿了这位银行家家庭生活的秘密似的。 
“是的，”那仆人答道，“是德布雷先生和夫人在一起。” 
腾格拉尔点了点头，然后转向基督山说道，“吕西安·德布雷先生是我们的老朋友，他是内政部长的私人秘书。至于我的太太，我必须先告诉您，她嫁给我是委屈了她的，因为她出身于法国历史最悠久的家庭。她的娘家姓萨尔维欧，她的前夫是陆军上校奈刚尼男爵。” 
“我虽还没有拜见腾格拉尔夫人的荣幸，但吕西安·德布雷先生我已经见过了。” 
“啊，真的！”腾格拉尔说道，“在哪儿见过的？” 
“在马尔塞夫先生家里。” 
“噢！您认识子爵？” 
“我们在罗马一同度狂欢节的。” 
“对罗，对罗！”腾格拉尔大声说道。“让我想想看。我听人谈起过他在废墟里遇到的一件稀奇古怪的事，他碰到了强盗或是小偷什么的，后来又神奇地逃了出来！究竟是怎么回事我给忘记了，但我知道他从意大利回来以后，便常常把那件事讲给我的太太和女儿听。” 
“男爵夫人有请二位，”那仆人这时说道，原来他已经去问过他的女主人了。“对不起，”腾格拉尔鞠了一躬说道，“我先走一步，给您引路。” 
“请便，”基督山答道，“我跟着您。” 
Chapter 47 The Dappled Grays
 THE BARON, followed by the count, traversed a long series of apartments, in which the prevailing characteristics were heavy magnificence and the gaudiness of ostentatious wealth, until he reached the boudoir of Madame Danglars--a small octagonal-shaped room, hung with pink satin, covered with white Indian muslin. The chairs were of ancient workmanship and materials; over the doors were painted sketches of shepherds and shepherdesses, after the style and manner of Boucher; and at each side pretty medallions in crayons, harmonizing well with the furnishings of this charming apartment, the only one throughout the great mansion in which any distinctive taste prevailed. The truth was, it had been entirely overlooked in the plan arranged and followed out by M. Danglars and his architect, who had been selected to aid the baron in the great work of improvement solely because he was the most fashionable and celebrated decorator of the day. The decorations of the boudoir had then been left entirely to Madame Danglars and Lucien Debray. M. Danglars, however, while possessing a great admiration for the antique, as it was understood during the time of the Directory, entertained the most sovereign contempt for the simple elegance of his wife's favorite sitting-room, where, by the way, he was never permitted to intrude, unless, indeed, he excused his own appearance by ushering in some more agreeable visitor than himself; and even then he had rather the air and manner of a person who was himself introduced, than that of being the presenter of another, his reception being cordial or frigid, in proportion as the person who accompanied him chanced to please or displease the baroness. 
Madame Danglars (who, although past the first bloom of youth, was still strikingly handsome) was now seated at the piano, a most elaborate piece of cabinet and inlaid work, while Lucien Debray, standing before a small work-table, was turning over the pages of an album. Lucien had found time, preparatory to the count's arrival, to relate many particulars respecting him to Madame Danglars. It will be remembered that Monte Cristo had made a lively impression on the minds of all the party assembled at the breakfast given by Albert de Morcerf; and although Debray was not in the habit of yielding to such feelings, he had never been able to shake off the powerful influence excited in his mind by the impressive look and manner of the count, consequently the description given by Lucien to the baroness bore the highly-colored tinge of his own heated imagination. Already excited by the wonderful stories related of the count by De Morcerf, it is no wonder that Madame Danglars eagerly listened to, and fully credited, all the additional circumstances detailed by Debray. This posing at the piano and over the album was only a little ruse adopted by way of precaution. A most gracious welcome and unusual smile were bestowed on M. Danglars; the count, in return for his gentlemanly bow, received a formal though graceful courtesy, while Lucien exchanged with the count a sort of distant recognition, and with Danglars a free and easy nod. 
"Baroness," said Danglars, "give me leave to present to you the Count of Monte Cristo, who has been most warmly recommended to me by my correspondents at Rome. I need but mention one fact to make all the ladies in Paris court his notice, and that is, that he has come to take up his abode in Paris for a year, during which brief period he proposes to spend six millions of money. That means balls, dinners, and lawn parties without end, in all of which I trust the count will remember us, as he may depend upon it we shall him, in our own humble entertainments." In spite of the gross flattery and coarseness of this address, Madame Danglars could not forbear gazing with considerable interest on a man capable of expending six millions in twelve months, and who had selected Paris for the scene of his princely extravagance. "And when did you arrive here?" inquired she. 
"Yesterday morning, madame." 
"Coming, as usual, I presume, from the extreme end of the globe? Pardon me--at least, such I have heard is your custom." 
"Nay, madame. This time I have merely come from Cadiz." 
"You have selected a most unfavorable moment for your first visit. Paris is a horrible place in summer. Balls, parties, and fetes are over; the Italian opera is in London; the French opera everywhere except in Paris. As for the Theatre Fran?ais, you know, of course, that it is nowhere. The only amusements left us are the indifferent races at the Champ de Mars and Satory. Do you propose entering any horses at either of these races, count?" 
"I shall do whatever they do at Paris, madame, if I have the good fortune to find some one who will initiate me into the prevalent ideas of amusement." 
"Are you fond of horses, count?" 
"I have passed a considerable part of my life in the East, madame, and you are doubtless aware that the Orientals value only two things--the fine breeding of their horses and the beauty of their women." 
"Nay, count," said the baroness, "it would have been somewhat more gallant to have placed the ladies first." 
"You see, madame, how rightly I spoke when I said I required a preceptor to guide me in all my sayings and doings here." At this instant the favorite attendant of Madame Danglars entered the boudoir; approaching her mistress, she spoke some words in an undertone. Madame Danglars turned very pale, then exclaimed,--"I cannot believe it; the thing is impossible." 
"I assure you, madame," replied the woman, "it is as I have said." Turning impatiently towards her husband, Madame Danglars demanded, "Is this true?" 
"Is what true, madame?" inquired Danglars, visibly agitated. 
"What my maid tells me." 
"But what does she tell you?" 
"That when my coachman was about to harness the horses to my carriage, he discovered that they had been removed from the stables without his knowledge. I desire to know what is the meaning of this?" 
"Be kind enough, madame, to listen to me," said Danglars. 
"Oh, yes; I will listen, monsieur, for I am most curious to hear what explanation you will give. These two gentlemen shall decide between us; but, first, I will state the case to them. Gentlemen," continued the baroness, "among the ten horses in the stables of Baron Danglars, are two that belong exclusively to me--a pair of the handsomest and most spirited creatures to be found in Paris. But to you, at least, M. Debray, I need not give a further description, because to you my beautiful pair of dappled grays were well known. Well, I had promised Madame de Villefort the loan of my carriage to drive to-morrow to the Bois; but when my coachman goes to fetch the grays from the stables they are gone--positively gone. No doubt M. Danglars has sacrificed them to the selfish consideration of gaining some thousands of paltry francs. Oh, what a detestable crew they are, these mercenary speculators!" 
"Madame," replied Danglars, "the horses were not sufficiently quiet for you; they were scarcely four years old, and they made me extremely uneasy on your account." 
"Nonsense," retorted the baroness; "you could not have entertained any alarm on the subject, because you are perfectly well aware that I have had for a month in my service the very best coachman in Paris. But, perhaps, you have disposed of the coachman as well as the horses?" 
"My dear love, pray do not say any more about them, and I promise you another pair exactly like them in appearance, only more quiet and steady." The baroness shrugged her shoulders with an air of ineffable contempt, while her husband, affecting not to observe this unconjugal gesture, turned towards Monte Cristo and said,--"Upon my word, count, I am quite sorry not to have met you sooner. You are setting up an establishment, of course?" 
"Why, yes," replied the count. 
"I should have liked to have made you the offer of these horses. I have almost given them away, as it is; but, as I before said, I was anxious to get rid of them upon any terms. They were only fit for a young man." 
"I am much obliged by your kind intentions towards me," said Monte Cristo; "but this morning I purchased a very excellent pair of carriage-horses, and I do not think they were dear. There they are. Come, M. Debray, you are a connoisseur, I believe, let me have your opinion upon them." As Debray walked towards the window, Danglars approached his wife. "I could not tell you before others," said he in a low tone, "the reason of my parting with the horses; but a most enormous price was offered me this morning for them. Some madman or fool, bent upon ruining himself as fast as he can, actually sent his steward to me to purchase them at any cost; and the fact is, I have gained 16,000 francs by the sale of them. Come, don't look so angry, and you shall have 4,000 francs of the money to do what you like with, and Eugénie shall have 2,000. There, what do you think now of the affair? Wasn't I right to part with the horses?" Madame Danglars surveyed her husband with a look of withering contempt. 
"Great heavens?" suddenly exclaimed Debray. 
"What is it?" asked the baroness. 
"I cannot be mistaken; there are your horses! The very animals we were speaking of, harnessed to the count's carriage!" 
"My dappled grays?" demanded the baroness, springing to the window. "'Tis indeed they!" said she. Danglars looked absolutely stupefied. "How very singular," cried Monte Cristo with well-feigned astonishment. 
"I cannot believe it," murmured the banker. Madame Danglars whispered a few words in the ear of Debray, who approached Monte Cristo, saying, "The baroness wishes to know what you paid her husband for the horses." 
"I scarcely know," replied the count; "it was a little surprise prepared for me by my steward, and cost me--well, somewhere about 30,000 francs." Debray conveyed the count's reply to the baroness. Poor Danglars looked so crest-fallen and discomfited that Monte Cristo assumed a pitying air towards him. "See," said the count, "how very ungrateful women are. Your kind attention, in providing for the safety of the baroness by disposing of the horses, does not seem to have made the least impression on her. But so it is; a woman will often, from mere wilfulness, prefer that which is dangerous to that which is safe. Therefore, in my opinion, my dear baron, the best and easiest way is to leave them to their fancies, and allow them to act as they please, and then, if any mischief follows, why, at least, they have no one to blame but themselves." Danglars made no reply; he was occupied in anticipations of the coming scene between himself and the baroness, whose frowning brow, like that of Olympic Jove, predicted a storm. Debray, who perceived the gathering clouds, and felt no desire to witness the explosion of Madame Danglars' rage, suddenly recollected an appointment, which compelled him to take his leave; while Monte Cristo, unwilling by prolonging his stay to destroy the advantages he hoped to obtain, made a farewell bow and departed, leaving Danglars to endure the angry reproaches of his wife. 
"Excellent," murmured Monte Cristo to himself, as he came away. "All his gone according to my wishes. The domestic peace of this family is henceforth in my hands. Now, then, to play another master-stroke, by which I shall gain the heart of both husband and wife--delightful! Still," added he, "amid all this, I have not yet been presented to Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars, whose acquaintance I should have been glad to make. But," he went on with his peculiar smile, "I am here in Paris, and have plenty of time before me--by and by will do for that." With these reflections he entered his carriage and returned home. Two hours afterwards, Madame Danglars received a most flattering epistle from the count, in which he entreated her to receive back her favorite "dappled grays," protesting that he could not endure the idea of making his entry into the Parisian world of fashion with the knowledge that his splendid equipage had been obtained at the price of a lovely woman's regrets. The horses were sent back wearing the same harness she had seen on them in the morning; only, by the count's orders, in the centre of each rosette that adorned either side of their heads, had been fastened a large diamond. 
To Danglars Monte Cristo also wrote, requesting him to excuse the whimsical gift of a capricious millionaire, and to beg the baroness to pardon the Eastern fashion adopted in the return of the horses. 
During the evening, Monte Cristo quitted Paris for Auteuil, accompanied by Ali. The following day, about three o'clock, a single blow struck on the gong summoned Ali to the presence of the count. "Ali," observed his master, as the Nubian entered the chamber, "you have frequently explained to me how more than commonly skilful you are in throwing the lasso, have you not?" Ali drew himself up proudly, and then returned a sign in the affirmative. "I thought I did not mistake. With your lasso you could stop an ox?" Again Ali repeated his affirmative gesture. "Or a tiger?" Ali bowed his head in token of assent. "A lion even?" Ali sprung forwards, imitating the action of one throwing the lasso, then of a strangled lion. 
"I understand," said Monte Cristo; "you wish to tell me you have hunted the lion?" Ali smiled with triumphant pride as he signified that he had indeed both chased and captured many lions. "But do you believe you could arrest the progress of two horses rushing forwards with ungovernable fury?" The Nubian smiled. "It is well," said Monte Cristo. "Then listen to me. Ere long a carriage will dash past here, drawn by the pair of dappled gray horses you saw me with yesterday; now, at the risk of your own life, you must manage to stop those horses before my door." 
Ali descended to the street, and marked a straight line on the pavement immediately at the entrance of the house, and then pointed out the line he had traced to the count, who was watching him. The count patted him gently on the shoulder, his usual mode of praising Ali, who, pleased and gratified with the commission assigned him, walked calmly towards a projecting stone forming the angle of the street and house, and, seating himself thereon, began to smoke his chibouque, while Monte Cristo re-entered his dwelling, perfectly assured of the success of his plan. Still, as five o'clock approached, and the carriage was momentarily expected by the count, the indication of more than common impatience and uneasiness might be observed in his manner. He stationed himself in a room commanding a view of the street, pacing the chamber with restless steps, stopping merely to listen from time to time for the sound of approaching wheels, then to cast an anxious glance on Ali; but the regularity with which the Nubian puffed forth the smoke of his chibouque proved that he at least was wholly absorbed in the enjoyment of his favorite occupation. Suddenly a distant sound of rapidly advancing wheels was heard, and almost immediately a carriage appeared, drawn by a pair of wild, ungovernable horses, while the terrified coachman strove in vain to restrain their furious speed. 
In the vehicle was a young woman and a child of about seven or eight clasped in each other's arms. Terror seemed to have deprived them even of the power of uttering a cry. The carriage creaked and rattled as it flew over the rough stones, and the slightest obstacle under the wheels would have caused disaster; but it kept on in the middle of the road, and those who saw it pass uttered cries of terror. 
Ali suddenly cast aside his chibouque, drew the lasso from his pocket, threw it so skilfully as to catch the forelegs of the near horse in its triple fold, and suffered himself to be dragged on for a few steps by the violence of the shock, then the animal fell over on the pole, which snapped, and therefore prevented the other horse from pursuing its way. Gladly availing himself of this opportunity, the coachman leaped from his box; but Ali had promptly seized the nostrils of the second horse, and held them in his iron grasp, till the beast, snorting with pain, sunk beside his companion. All this was achieved in much less time than is occupied in the recital. The brief space had, however, been sufficient for a man, followed by a number of servants, to rush from the house before which the accident had occurred, and, as the coachman opened the door of the carriage, to take from it a lady who was convulsively grasping the cushions with one hand, while with the other she pressed to her bosom the young boy, who had lost consciousness. 
Monte Cristo carried them both to the salon, and deposited them on a sofa. "Compose yourself, madame," said he; "all danger is over." The woman looked up at these words, and, with a glance far more expressive than any entreaties could have been, pointed to her child, who still continued insensible. "I understand the nature of your alarms, madame," said the count, carefully examining the child, "but I assure you there is not the slightest occasion for uneasiness; your little charge has not received the least injury; his insensibility is merely the effects of terror, and will soon pass." 
"Are you quite sure you do not say so to tranquillize my fears? See how deadly pale he is! My child, my darling Edward; speak to your mother--open your dear eyes and look on me once again! Oh, sir, in pity send for a physician; my whole fortune shall not be thought too much for the recovery of my boy." 
With a calm smile and a gentle wave of the hand, Monte Cristo signed to the distracted mother to lay aside her apprehensions; then, opening a casket that stood near, he drew forth a phial of Bohemian glass incrusted with gold, containing a liquid of the color of blood, of which he let fall a single drop on the child's lips. Scarcely had it reached them, ere the boy, though still pale as marble, opened his eyes, and eagerly gazed around him. At this, the delight of the mother was almost frantic. "Where am I?" exclaimed she; "and to whom am I indebted for so happy a termination to my late dreadful alarm?" 
"Madame," answered the count, "you are under the roof of one who esteems himself most fortunate in having been able to save you from a further continuance of your sufferings." 
"My wretched curiosity has brought all this about," pursued the lady. "All Paris rung with the praises of Madame Danglars' beautiful horses, and I had the folly to desire to know whether they really merited the high praise given to them." 
"Is it possible," exclaimed the count with well-feigned astonishment, "that these horses belong to the baroness?" 
"They do, indeed. May I inquire if you are acquainted with Madame Danglars?" 
"I have that honor; and my happiness at your escape from the danger that threatened you is redoubled by the consciousness that I have been the unwilling and the unintentional cause of all the peril you have incurred. I yesterday purchased these horses of the baron; but as the baroness evidently regretted parting with them, I ventured to send them back to her, with a request that she would gratify me by accepting them from my hands." 
"You are, then, doubtless, the Count of Monte Cristo, of whom Hermine has talked to me so much?" 
"You have rightly guessed, madame," replied the count. 
"And I am Madame Hélo?se de Villefort." The count bowed with the air of a person who hears a name for the first time. "How grateful will M. de Villefort be for all your goodness; how thankfully will he acknowledge that to you alone he owes the existence of his wife and child! Most certainly, but for the prompt assistance of your intrepid servant, this dear child and myself must both have perished." 
"Indeed, I still shudder at the fearful danger you were placed in." 
"I trust you will allow me to recompense worthily the devotion of your man." 
"I beseech you, madame," replied Monte Cristo "not to spoil Ali, either by too great praise or rewards. I cannot allow him to acquire the habit of expecting to be recompensed for every trifling service he may render. Ali is my slave, and in saving your life he was but discharging his duty to me." 
"Nay," interposed Madame de Villefort, on whom the authoritative style adopted by the count made a deep impression, "nay, but consider that to preserve my life he has risked his own." 
"His life, madame, belongs not to him; it is mine, in return for my having myself saved him from death." Madame de Villefort made no further reply; her mind was utterly absorbed in the contemplation of the person who, from the first instant she saw him, had made so powerful an impression on her. During the evident preoccupation of Madame de Villefort, Monte Cristo scrutinized the features and appearance of the boy she kept folded in her arms, lavishing on him the most tender endearments. The child was small for his age, and unnaturally pale. A mass of straight black hair, defying all attempts to train or curl it, fell over his projecting forehead, and hung down to his shoulders, giving increased vivacity to eyes already sparkling with a youthful love of mischief and fondness for every forbidden enjoyment. His mouth was large, and the lips, which had not yet regained their color, were particularly thin; in fact, the deep and crafty look, giving a predominant expression to the child's face, belonged rather to a boy of twelve or fourteen than to one so young. His first movement was to free himself by a violent push from the encircling arms of his mother, and to rush forward to the casket from whence the count had taken the phial of elixir; then, without asking permission of any one, he proceeded, in all the wilfulness of a spoiled child unaccustomed to restrain either whims or caprices, to pull the corks out of all the bottles. 
"Touch nothing, my little friend," cried the count eagerly; "some of those liquids are not only dangerous to taste, but even to inhale." 
Madame de Villefort became very pale, and, seizing her son's arm, drew him anxiously toward her; but, once satisfied of his safety, she also cast a brief but expressive glance on the casket, which was not lost upon the count. At this moment Ali entered. At sight of him Madame de Villefort uttered an expression of pleasure, and, holding the child still closer towards her, she said, "Edward, dearest, do you see that good man? He has shown very great courage and resolution, for he exposed his own life to stop the horses that were running away with us, and would certainly have dashed the carriage to pieces. Thank him, then, my child, in your very best manner; for, had he not come to our aid, neither you nor I would have been alive to speak our thanks." The child stuck out his lips and turned away his head in a disdainful manner, saying, "He's too ugly." 
The count smiled as if the child bade fair to realize his hopes, while Madame de Villefort reprimanded her son with a gentleness and moderation very far from conveying the least idea of a fault having been committed. "This lady," said the Count, speaking to Ali in the Arabic language, "is desirous that her son should thank you for saving both their lives; but the boy refuses, saying you are too ugly." Ali turned his intelligent countenance towards the boy, on whom he gazed without any apparent emotion; but the spasmodic working of the nostrils showed to the practiced eye of Monte Cristo that the Arab had been wounded to the heart. 
"Will you permit me to inquire," said Madame de Villefort, as she arose to take her leave, "whether you usually reside here?" 
"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo; "it is a small place I have purchased quite lately. My place of abode is No. 30, Avenue des Champs Elysées; but I see you have quite recovered from your fright, and are, no doubt, desirous of returning home. Anticipating your wishes, I have desired the same horses you came with to be put to one of my carriages, and Ali, he whom you think so very ugly," continued he, addressing the boy with a smiling air, "will have the honor of driving you home, while your coachman remains here to attend to the necessary repairs of your calash. As soon as that important business is concluded, I will have a pair of my own horses harnessed to convey it direct to Madame Danglars." 
"I dare not return with those dreadful horses," said Madame de Villefort. 
"You will see," replied Monte Cristo, "that they will be as different as possible in the hands of Ali. With him they will be gentle and docile as lambs." Ali had, indeed, given proof of this; for, approaching the animals, who had been got upon their legs with considerable difficulty, he rubbed their foreheads and nostrils with a sponge soaked in aromatic vinegar, and wiped off the sweat and foam that covered their mouths. Then, commencing a loud whistling noise, he rubbed them well all over their bodies for several minutes; then, undisturbed by the noisy crowd collected round the broken carriage, Ali quietly harnessed the pacified animals to the count's chariot, took the reins in his hands, and mounted the box, when to the utter astonishment of those who had witnessed the ungovernable spirit and maddened speed of the same horses, he was actually compelled to apply his whip in no very gentle manner before he could induce them to start; and even then all that could be obtained from the celebrated "dappled grays," now changed into a couple of dull, sluggish, stupid brutes, was a slow, pottering pace, kept up with so much difficulty that Madame de Villefort was more than two hours returning to her residence in the Faubourg St. Honoré. 
Scarcely had the first congratulations upon her marvellous escape been gone through when she wrote the following letter to Madame Danglars:-- 
DEAR HERMINE,--I have just had a wonderful escape from the most imminent danger, and I owe my safety to the very Count of Monte Cristo we were talking about yesterday, but whom I little expected to see to-day. I remember how unmercifully I laughed at what I considered your eulogistic and exaggerated praises of him; but I have now ample cause to admit that your enthusiastic description of this wonderful man fell far short of his merits. Your horses got as far as Ranelagh, when they darted forward like mad things, and galloped away at so fearful a rate, that there seemed no other prospect for myself and my poor Edward but that of being dashed to pieces against the first object that impeded their progress, when a strange-looking man,--an Arab, a negro, or a Nubian, at least a black of some nation or other--at a signal from the count, whose domestic he is, suddenly seized and stopped the infuriated animals, even at the risk of being trampled to death himself; and certainly he must have had a most wonderful escape. The count then hastened to us, and took us into his house, where he speedily recalled my poor Edward to life. He sent us home in his own carriage. Yours will be returned to you to-morrow. You will find your horses in bad condition, from the results of this accident; they seem thoroughly stupefied, as if sulky and vexed at having been conquered by man. The count, however, his commissioned me to assure you that two or three days' rest, with plenty of barley for their sole food during that time, will bring them back to as fine, that is as terrifying, a condition as they were in yesterday. Adieu! I cannot return you many thanks for the drive of yesterday; but, after all, I ought not to blame you for the misconduct of your horses, more especially as it procured me the pleasure of an introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo,--and certainly that illustrious personage, apart from the millions he is said to be so very anxious to dispose of, seemed to me one of those curiously interesting problems I, for one, delight in solving at any risk, even if it were to necessitate another drive to the Bois behind your horses. Edward endured the accident with miraculous courage--he did not utter a single cry, but fell lifeless into my arms; nor did a tear fall from his eyes after it was over. I doubt not you will consider these praises the result of blind maternal affection, but there is a soul of iron in that delicate, fragile body. Valentine sends many affectionate remembrances to your dear Eugénie. I embrace you with all my heart. 
HéLO?SE DE VILLEFORT. 
P.S.--Do pray contrive some means for me to meet the Count of Monte Cristo at your house. I must and will see him again. I have just made M. de Villefort promise to call on him, and I hope the visit will be returned. 
That night the adventure at Auteuil was talked of everywhere. Albert related it to his mother; Chateau-Renaud recounted it at the Jockey Club, and Debray detailed it at length in the salons of the minister; even Beauchamp accorded twenty lines in his journal to the relation of the count's courage and gallantry, thereby celebrating him as the greatest hero of the day in the eyes of all the feminine members of the aristocracy. Vast was the crowd of visitors and inquiring friends who left their names at the residence of Madame de Villefort, with the design of renewing their visit at the right moment, of hearing from her lips all the interesting circumstances of this most romantic adventure. As for M. de Villefort, he fulfilled the predictions of Hélo?se to the letter,--donned his dress suit, drew on a pair of white gloves, ordered the servants to attend the carriage dressed in their full livery, and drove that same night to No. 30 in the Avenue des Champs-Elysées.  
伯爵跟着男爵穿过许多房间，这些房间都布置得极其豪华，又俗不可耐，最后他们终于到了腾格拉尔夫人的会客室。 
那是一间八角形的小房间，挂着粉红色薄绫和白色印度麻纱门帘和窗帷。椅子的式样和质地都是古色古香的，门上画着布歇［布歇：专画乡土装饰画的法国画家。——译注］的牧童和牧女的风景画，门的两旁每边都钉着一张圆形的彩粉画，和房间里的陈设显得很协调。这座住宅的建筑师是当时最负盛名的人物，但这个房间的装饰却完全没有按照他和腾格拉尔先生的意见。腾格拉尔夫人会客室里的装饰和布置完全出于她自己和吕西安·德布雷的心意。腾格拉尔先生不喜欢他太太心爱的这间起居室，因为他非常倾心于督政府［法国资产阶级革命时代，皇室倾覆，根据一七九五年宪法成立立法团，组成督政府，在一七九五——一七九九年内，共有三届督政府执政，称为督政府时代。——译注］的好古风气，最瞧不起这种质朴高雅的布置，可是，这个地方并不是他可以随便闯进来的，他老想进来，非得陪着一位比他自己更受欢迎的客人来才行。所以实际上并不是腾格拉尔介绍客人，倒是客人介绍了他。而他所受到的接待是热情还是冷淡，则全看男爵夫人对陪他来的那个人的是喜欢还是厌恶的态度了。 
腾格拉尔这次进来的时候，看到男爵夫人（虽然她风华正茂的青春时代已过，但却依旧很美丽动人）正坐在那架镶嵌得极其精细的钢琴前面，而德布雷则站在一张小写字台前面，正在翻弄着一本纪念册。吕西安在伯爵未到之前已讲了许多有关他这个人一些奇特的事给腾格拉尔夫人听了。读者还记得吧，在阿尔贝·马尔塞夫的早餐席上，基督山已在全体来宾的脑海里留下了一个生动深刻的印象。德布雷虽然不是一个易于受感动的人，但那个印象却一直留在他的脑子里久久不去，他对男爵夫人讲伯爵的事，就是根据那个印象来叙述的。腾格拉尔夫人已经听马尔塞夫详详细地讲过，现在又经吕西安这么一说，便极大地引起了她的好奇心。钢琴和纪念册是社交上的一种欺骗手段，借此可以掩饰一下他们的注意力。腾格拉尔蒙赐到了一个最和蔼难得的微笑；伯爵则一派绅士风度地微微欠身，文雅地行礼致意；吕西安和伯爵客气的打了个招呼，面对腾格拉尔只随随便便地点了点头。 
“男爵夫人，”腾格拉尔说道，“允许我介绍您认识基督山伯爵，他是由我罗马的往来银行热忱地介绍给我的。我只得提到一件事实就可以使全巴黎的贵妇们都以认识他为荣，他准备到巴黎来住一年，并准备在那期间花掉六百万。这就等于说要举行很多次舞会，庆祝宴，大请客和野餐，在这一切热闹的场合中，我相信伯爵阁下一定不会忘记我们的，正如他可以相信我们在举行大小宴会时一定不会忘记他一样。” 
这一番恭维话虽然说得粗俗，但腾格拉尔夫人对于一个能在十二个月里花上六百万而且选中巴黎作为他如此挥霍的地方的人，也禁不住很感兴趣地盯着他看了看。“您是什么时候到这儿的？”她问道。 
“昨天早晨，夫人。” 
“我想，大概也象往常一样，是从地球的尽头来的吧？请原谅，我听说您老是喜欢这样做的。” 
“不，夫人！这一次我只是从卡迪斯来。” 
“您第一次来访问我们的都市，选的时间太不凑巧了。夏季的巴黎是一个可怕的地方！舞会，宴会，庆祝宴都过时了。意大利歌剧团现在在伦敦，法国歌剧团到处都有，就是巴黎没有。至于法兰西戏院，您当然知道，那是根本不值一看的。我们现在唯一的娱乐，只是马尔斯跑马场和萨陀莱跑马场的几次赛马。你准备出几匹马去参加比赛，伯爵阁下？” 
“我，夫人，不论巴黎人干什么事都愿意参加，假如我的运气好，能找到一个人把法国的各种风俗习惯都告诉我的话。” 
“您喜欢吗，伯爵阁下？” 
“夫人，我生命中的一部分光阴是在东方度过的，而您一定知道，那些地方的居民只看重两样东西——名马和美人。” 
“啊，伯爵阁下，”男爵夫人说道，“假如把女人放在前面，那就更能讨好太太们了。” 
“您瞧，夫人，我刚才不是还说需要一位老师来指导我学习法国的风俗习惯吗？我说得多正确啊。” 
这时，腾格拉尔夫人所宠爱的侍女走进房间里来，她走到女主人的身边，低声说了几句话。腾格拉尔夫人的脸色立刻变得煞白，她大声说道：“我不相信，这是不可能的。” 
“我发誓，夫人，”那侍女答道‘我这是千真万确的。” 
于是腾格拉尔夫人急忙转过去问她的丈夫：‘是真的吗？” 
“真的什么，夫人？”腾格拉尔显然很着急地问道。 
“我的女仆告诉我的那件事。” 
“她告诉了你什么？” 
“就是当我的马夫正要去给我备车的时候，却发觉那两匹马已不在马厩里了，他事先一点都不知道。我很想知道这究竟是怎么回事？” 
“请夫人息怒，且听我说。” 
“噢！我听着呢，我倒很想知道你要对我说些什么。这两位先生可以做我们的见证人，但我得先把这事讲给他们听听。 
二位，”男爵夫人继续说道，“腾格拉尔男爵阁下的马厩里共有十匹马，其中有两匹是专归我用的，那是全巴黎最漂亮最英俊的两匹马了。至少对您，德布雷先生，我是不必多加形容的，因为您对于我那两匹美丽的灰斑马是非常熟悉的。嘿！正当我已经完全应了维尔福夫人明天把我的马车借给她到布洛涅森林去的时候，一看，那两匹马却不见了。一定是腾格拉尔先生为能在这笔交易中赚上几千法朗而把它们给卖了。噢，投机家是多么卑鄙下贱啊。” 
“夫人，”腾格拉尔回答说，“那两匹马给你用实在是不安全，它们还不到四岁，它们使我很替你担心。” 
“呃！”男爵夫人反驳道，“你知道得很清楚，上个月我已经雇用了一个巴黎最能干的车夫，你不见得把他和马一起卖了吧？” 
“宝贝，我答应给你买两匹和它们一样——要是可能的话，买两匹更漂亮的——但总之要比它们安稳些的。” 
男爵夫人以一种极轻蔑的神色耸了耸肩膀，她的丈夫假装没有看见，转过身来对基督山说道：“说实话，伯爵阁下，我很遗憾没有早点知道您准备到巴黎来久住。” 
“为什么？”伯爵问道。 
“因为我很高兴是把那两匹马卖给您的，我几乎是按原价让给人家的。但是，我已经说过，我急于想摆脱掉它们。它们只有给象您这样的年轻人用比较合适。” 
“阁下，”伯爵说道：‘谢谢您，今天早晨我也买了两匹非常出色的马，相当好，而且不太贵，就停在那儿。来，德布雷先生，我想您是位鉴赏家，让我来听听您对它们的看法吧。” 
当德布雷向窗口走去的时候，腾格拉尔走近他的妻子身边。“我在外人面前不便告诉你卖掉那两匹马的理由，”他低声说道：“但今天早晨有人出极高的价来向我买。他不是个疯子就是个傻瓜，大概是唯恐倾家荡产得不够快吧，竟派他的管家来，无论如何要向我买那两匹马，结果，我从那笔买卖上赚了一万六千法郎。好了，别再生气了，你可以从中分到四千，这笔钱随便你怎么花，瓦朗蒂娜也可以分到两千。”腾格拉尔夫人轻蔑地瞟了她丈夫一眼，但神色已没有刚才那么严厉了。 
“啊！我的天！我看到了什么？”德布雷突然喊道。 
“什么事？”男爵夫人问道。 
“我没看错，那不正是您的马吗！就是我们刚才所说的那两匹，配在伯爵的车子上了！” 
“我的灰斑马？”男爵夫人大喊了一声，就奔到了窗前。“正是它们！”她说道。腾格拉尔一下子呆住了。 
“竟会有这样的事吗？”基督山问道，故意装出很惊讶的样子。 
腾格拉尔夫人在德布雷的耳边低声说了几句什么，德布雷就走过来向基督山：“男爵夫人想知道您为了那两匹马付了多少钱给她的丈夫？” 
“我也不大清楚，”伯爵答道，“这是我的管家经手的，他是想使我吃一惊的。我想，大概三万法郎左右吧。” 
德布雷把伯爵的答话转达给了男爵夫人。腾格拉尔此时的神色简直沮丧和狼狈极了。基督山装出一种怜悯的神情。 
“瞧，”他说道，“女人真是不知好歹呀！您好心好意地为男爵夫人的安全着想才弄掉了那两匹马，可她似乎一点都不理解您的好意。这也没办法，女人往往容易任性而不顾安全，自愿去冒危险。依我看，亲爱的男爵，最好和最方便的办法还是让她们去随心所欲吧，她们爱怎么着就怎么着吧，那样，要是发生了什么不幸的事，至少，她们没法怨别人而只能怪自己啦。” 
腾格拉尔虽没有回答，但他心里已经预感到自己将和男爵夫人大闹一场的，男爵夫人这时怒气冲冲的，眉头紧锁，象奥林匹斯山上的众神之王，这预示着一场暴风雨就要到来了。 
德布雷看看势头不妙，他不愿目睹腾格拉尔夫人的盛怒爆发，就推辞说有事要办，告辞了。而基督山也不愿再多耽误时间了，那样怕破坏他所希望得到的效果，便鞠了一躬，也告辞了，只剩腾格拉尔一个人去受他妻子的怒骂了。 
“妙极了！”基督山一边向他的马车走去，一边心里说道“一切都如我的所愿。这一家的安宁从此以后就掌握在我手里了。现在，我要再施个妙计，把他们夫妇两人的心都赢过来，这真太有趣了！不过，”他又说道，“这次会面中，还没有把我介绍给瓦朗蒂娜·腾格拉尔小姐，我倒很高兴认识一下她。但没关系，”他带着他那种奇特的微笑继续说道，“将来总会认识她的。我已经打下了基础，时间还很充呢。伯爵这样想着跨进了他的马车，回到了家里。两小时之后，腾格拉尔夫人收到了一封动人心弦的信，信是伯爵写来的，信里说明决不愿意在刚刚踏入巴黎的社交界时就使一位可爱的女人生气。把那两匹马送回来了，原封动地套它们早晨时的鞍具，但在马头上所戴的每一朵玫瑰花结的中央，都已按伯爵吩咐镶上了一颗颗钻石。 
基督山还写了一封信给腾格拉尔，请他收下一位怪富翁所送的这种怪礼物，并请男爵夫人原谅他以这种东方方式的礼仪送还她的马。 
当在傍晚，基督山由阿里陪着离开巴黎到欧特伊去了。第二天下午三点钟左右，铜锣一响，阿里被召到了伯爵的面前。 
“阿里，”那黑奴一走进房间，他的主人做说道，“你以前常常对我说，你很擅长套马。” 
阿里骄傲地挺直了身子，做了一个肯定的回答。 
“好极了。你能套住一头牛吗？” 
阿里又作了一个肯定的手势。 
“一只老虎呢？” 
阿里点头表示能行。 
“一只狮子呢？” 
阿里作了一个抛绳索的动作，然后模仿绳索勒紧的声音。 
“但你自信能套住两匹狂奔的马吗？” 
那黑奴笑了。 
“很好，”基督山说道。“待会儿有一辆马车要经过这儿，拉车的是两匹灰色有斑纹的马，就是昨天你看见我用的那一对，现在，你必须冒着生命的危险，在我的门前拉住那两匹马。” 
阿里走到街上，在门前的走道上划了一条直线，然后他回来把那条线指给在一旁的伯爵看。伯爵轻轻地拍了拍他的肩膀，他总是用这种特有的方式来称赞阿里的，阿里很喜欢这项差使，他镇定地走到房子和街道相接的拐角上，在一块界石上坐下来，开始抽他的长筒烟，而基督山则回到了屋里，不再管这件事了。快到五点钟的时候，伯爵显出异常的焦躁和不安，原来他算定那辆马车马上就要到了。他走进一间面对着街道的房间，不安地在房间里踱来踱去，时不时地站住听听有没有车轮渐近的声音，然后用焦急的目光看看阿里，但见那黑奴依然含着他的长筒烟悠闲地在吞云吐雾，这至少证明他是正全神贯注地享受他心爱的玩意儿。突然间，他隐约听到了车轮急速滚动的声音，立刻一辆马车出现了，拉车的那一对马已野性大发，简直无法控制，只见它们拚命地向前冲，象是有魔鬼在驱赶着它们一样，那吓呆了的车夫竭力想控制住它们，但没有用。 
马车里有一个少妇和一个年约七八岁的孩子。他们吓得连喊都喊不出来了，两人紧紧地搂在一起，象是决定至死都不分开似的。马车喀啦啦地叫着在粗糙的石头路上飞奔着，要是它在路上遇到了一点儿障碍，就一定会翻车的。它在街中央飞奔着，凡是看到它过来的人都发出了惊恐的喊叫声。 
陡然地，阿里放下了他的长筒烟，从口袋里抽出了绳索，巧妙地一抛，那绳圈就套在了离他较近的那匹马的前蹄，然后忍痛让自己被马向前拖了几步，在这几步的时间里，那条巧妙地投出去的绳索已逐渐收紧，终于把那匹狂怒的马的两脚完全拴住了，使它跌倒在地上，这匹马跌到了车辕上，折断了车辕，使另外那匹马也无法再向前跑了。车夫利用这个机会急忙从他的座位上跳下来，但阿里这时已敏捷地抓住了第二匹马的鼻孔，用他的铁腕死命的抓住不放，直到那头发疯的牲畜痛苦地喷着气，软瘫在它的同伴旁边。这整个的过程还没有我们现在讲话的时间长。但就在这短暂的时间内，一个人带着几年仆人从屋子里冲出来，奔到了出事地点。当车夫打开车门的时候，这个人就帮忙把那个少妇抱了下来，这位太太此时仍一只手痉挛地抓住椅垫，一手紧紧地把她的儿子搂在她怀里。那小孩子已吓晕了过去，基督山把他们都抱进客厅里，放在一张沙发上。“放心吧，夫人，”他说道，“一切危险都已经过去了。” 
那女人听到这几句话，就抬起头来，带着恳求的目光，指了指她那依旧昏迷不醒的孩子。 
“我明白您的意思，夫人，”伯爵说道，并仔细把那孩子检查了一遍，“我向您担保，您丝毫不必担心，您的小宝贝一点也没有受伤，他只是吓昏了，一会儿就会好的。” 
“您这样说只是想安慰我是吗？瞧他的脸色多白！我的孩子！我的爱德华！对妈妈说话呀！啊，阁下，快去请一位医生来吧！要能救活我的儿子，我愿意把全部家产都送给他！” 
基督山向那惊恐万状的母亲示意，请她不必担心，然后他打开放在旁边的一个小箱子，从箱子里抽出了一只波希米亚出产的玻璃瓶，瓶子里装着一种红色的液体，他把那种液体滴了一滴到那孩子的嘴唇上，药水刚刚滴到嘴唇上，那孩子，虽然脸色依旧很苍白，却睁开了眼睛，急切地向四周看了看。看到这种情形，那母亲简直高兴得发昏了。“我这是在什么地方呀？”她大声说道，“谁使我们这样大难不死，这样走运啊？” 
“夫人，”伯爵答道，“我能把您从危难中救出来，自觉极其荣幸，您现在就在敝舍。” 
“这件事都怪我的好奇心作恶，”那贵妇人说道。“全巴黎的人都称赞腾格拉尔夫人的马长得漂亮，而我也太傻了，居然试试它们。” 
“难道，”伯爵故意装出很惊奇的神色大声说道，“这两匹马是男爵夫人的？” 
“是的，阁下，您认识她吧？” 
“腾格拉尔夫人吗？我认识的，现在对于您能脱险我的确更觉得高兴了，我想不到您这次遭险竟是我无意中造成的。昨天我向男爵买了这两匹马，但由于男爵夫人很后悔把它们卖掉，所以我就冒昧地送还给了她，算是我的一件礼物，请她赏光收下。” 
“咦，那么说您就是基督山伯爵了，爱米姆对我讲过许多关于您的事呢！” 
“是的，夫人。”伯爵说道。 
“我是爱洛伊丝·维尔福夫人。”伯爵鞠了一躬，看起来他象是第一次听到这个名字似的。“您的义举，维尔福先生将会感激不尽的，当他知道是您救了他妻子和孩子的性命，他会多么地感谢您呀！真的，要不是您那个勇敢的仆人及时赶来搭救，这可爱的孩子和我必死无疑啦。” 
“真的，想到您刚才的危险，我现在还有点后怕呢。” 
“噢，我希望您允许我适当地回报一下那个忠诚勇敢的人。” 
“夫人，”基督山答话，“我求您别宠坏了阿里，别给他太多的称赞和报酬。我不能让他养成每次出点力就希望能得到回报的这种习惯。阿里是我的奴隶，他救了你们的性命只是在为我效劳，而为我效劳是他的职责。” 
“但他是冒着生命危险的呀！”维尔福夫人说道，伯爵这种威严的态度给她留下了一个很深的印象。 
“夫人，他的生命，不是他的的，而是属于我的，因为我曾亲自教过他的命。”维尔福夫人不出声了，也许她在寻思，为什么这个奇人初次见面就能给她留下这样深刻的一个印象。在这短暂的沉默期间，基督山以一种极亲切的神色仔细地观察着那蜷伏在她怀里的孩子，观察着他的体貌。那个孩子长得很瘦弱脸色特别苍白。头发直而黑，虽然曾烫过但还是鬈曲不起来，有一大绺头发从他那凸出的前额上挂下来，直垂到他的肩头，那一双充满了狡猾阴险和顽皮执拗的眼睛显得十分机灵活泼。他的嘴巴很宽大，嘴唇极薄，还没有恢复血色；从这孩子的脸上，一眼就可以看出他的个性深沉而诡谲，他的相貌很象是一个十三四岁的孩子，而不象个八岁的孩子。他醒来的第一个动作是猛地一下子挣脱了他母亲的怀抱，向伯爵装救命良药的那只小箱子冲过去然后，在没得到任何人的许可下，开始把药瓶的塞子一个个地拨出来，这充分显示出他是一个从不受约束的、怪癖任性的、被宠坏了的孩子。 
“别碰这些东西，我的小朋友，”伯爵急忙说道，“有些药水不但不能尝，就是闻一闻也是很危险的哪。” 
维尔福夫人的脸色陡变，抓住她儿子的胳膊，把他拉到自己身边，看到他没出事，她自己也向那只小箱子瞟了一眼，这一眼虽短，却意味深长，当然没有逃过伯爵的慧眼。这时，阿里走了进来。一看到他，维尔福夫人脸上立刻露出一种兴奋的表情，并把那孩子搂得更紧了一点，说道：“爱德华，你看到那个好人了吗？这个人刚才非常勇敢，刚才拉车的那两匹马发了疯，差一点把车子撞得粉碎，是他冒着生命危险拖住了它们。快谢谢他吧，我的孩子，要是没有他，我们俩可都没命了。” 
那孩子撅起了嘴唇，以一种厌恶和藐视的态度转过头去说道：“他长得太丑了！”伯爵看到这种情形心里感到很满意，当他想到这个小孩子也可以使他的一部分计划有希望实现的时候，一个微笑偷偷地爬上了他的脸；维尔福夫人对儿子叱责了几句，但非常温和，谁看了都知道不会起什么作用。 
“这位太太，”伯爵用阿拉伯语对阿里说道，“因为你救了他们的命，想叫她的儿子谢谢你，但那孩子不干，说你长得太丑了！” 
阿里把他那聪明的脑袋转向那孩子，毫无表情地看了他一眼，他的鼻孔在痉挛般地一张一缩，基督山知道那句不知好歹的话已使那个阿拉伯人的自尊心受到了伤害。 
“恕我冒昧地问一句，”维尔福夫人站起来准备告别的时候说道，“您经常住在这儿吗？” 
“不，夫人，”基督山答道，“这是新近买的一个小地方——我的寓所在香榭丽舍大道三十号，我看您已经复原了，您一定是想回家了吧。我已吩咐把那两匹拉您来的马套在了我的车子上，并叫阿里，也就是你认为长得太丑的那个人，”他面带微笑对那孩子说道，“赶车送你们回家，而您的车夫则暂时留在这儿，照料修理您的车子。车子修好以后，我会用我自己的马直接送回给腾格拉尔夫人的。” 
“可我不敢再用那两匹可怕的马拉我回去了。”维尔福夫人说道。 
“您一会儿就会知道的，”基督山答道，“一到阿里的手里，它们就象羔羊一样驯服的。” 
阿里的确证明了这一点。他走近那两匹被人费了很大的劲才扶起来的马，用浸过香油的海绵擦了擦它们那满是汗和白沫的前额与鼻孔，于是它们几乎立刻就呼噜呼噜地喘起粗气来，并且浑身不停地颤抖了几秒钟。然后，也不管那围观在马车周围的人群多么嘈杂，阿里静静地把那两匹驯服了的马套到了伯爵的四轮轻便马车上，把缰绳握在了手里，爬上了车头的座位，然后他“罗！”地喊了一声。使围观者极其惊讶的是：他们刚才还目睹这两匹马发疯般狂奔，倔强难治，但现在阿里却得用他的鞭子不客气地抽打几下它们才肯向前迈步。踯躅而行，这两匹有名的灰斑马现在变得迟钝愚笨，死气沉沉的了，它们走得是这样的艰难，以致维尔福夫人花了两个钟头才回到了圣·粤诺路她的家里。 
她一到家，在家人的一阵惊叹平息之后，立刻写了下面这封信给腾格拉尔夫人：“亲爱的爱米娜：我刚才从九死一生的危险中奇迹般地逃了出来，这全得归功于我们昨天所谈到的那位基督山伯爵但我决想不到今天会看见他我记得当你称赞他的时候，我曾怎样无情地加以嘲笑，觉得你的话太夸张了，可是现在我却有充分的理由来相信：你对于这位奇人的描写虽然热情，但对于他的优点说的却远远不够。我一定竭力把我的这次奇遇讲得清楚一点。你必须知道，我亲爱的朋友，当我驾着你的马跑到达兰拉大街的时候，它们突然象发了疯似的向前直冲，以致只要有什么东西在前面挡住它们的去路，我和我那可怜的爱德华一定会撞得粉身碎骨，当时我觉得一切都完了，突然一个相貌古怪的人，或者说一个阿拉伯人或努比亚人，总之，是一个黑人，在伯爵的一个手势之下（他原是伯爵的仆人），突然上前来抓住了那匹暴怒的马，甚至冒着他自己被踩死的危险，使之免于死，实在是一个真正的奇迹。那时，伯爵急忙跑出来，把我们带到了他的家里，用一种奇妙的药水迅速地救活了我那可怜的爱德华（他当时已吓昏了）。当我们已完全恢复过来的时候，他又用自己的马车送我们回了家。你的马车明天还你。我恐怕你得有好几天不能用你的马了，因为它们好象是变呆了，象是极不高兴让那个黑人来驯服它们似的但伯爵委托我向你保证，只要让它们休息两三天，在那期间，多给它们吃点大麦，而且以大麦为唯一的饲料，它们就会象昨天一样活蹦乱跳的，也就是说，象昨天一样的可怕。再见了！我不想为今天这次驱车出游多谢你了，但我也不应该因为你的马不好而来怪你，尤其是因这事使我认识了基督山伯爵，我觉得这位显赫的人物，除了他拥有百万资财以外，实在是一个非常奥妙，非常耐人寻味的迷，我打算不惜一切来解开这个谜，假如必要的话，即使冒险再让你的马来拖一次也在所不惜。爱德华在这次事件中表现得非常勇敢。他一声都没哭，只是晕了过去，事后，也不曾掉一滴眼泪。你或许仍旧要说我的母爱使我盲目了，但他是这样的脆弱，这样的娇嫩，确有着坚强的意志。瓦朗蒂娜时常念叨你们可爱的欧热妮，托我向她致意，祝她和你安好！我依旧是你永远真诚的——爱洛伊丝·维尔福又及：务请设法使我在你府上见见基督山伯爵。我必须再见他一次，我刚才已劝服维尔福先生去拜访他，希望他会来回访。” 
当天晚上欧特伊的那件奇事成了众人谈话的主题。阿尔贝把它讲给他的母亲听，夏多·勒诺在骑士俱乐部把它当作了谈话的资料，而德布雷则在部长的客厅里长篇大论地详详细细把它叙述了一遍，波尚也在他的报纸上用了二十行的篇幅恭维了一番伯爵的勇敢和豪侠，使他在法国全体贵族女子的眼里变成了一位英雄。许多人到维尔福夫人的府上来留下了他们的名片，说他们会在适当的时机再来拜访，以便听她亲口详述这一件传奇式的奇遇。正如爱洛伊丝所说的，维尔福先生穿上一套黑礼服，戴上了一副白手套，带上最漂亮的仆人，驱车直奔伯爵府而去，于当天傍晚到达了香榭丽舍大街三十号房子门前。 
Chapter 48 Ideology
 IF THE COUNT of Monte Cristo had been for a long time familiar with the ways of Parisian society, he would have appreciated better the significance of the step which M. de Villefort had taken. Standing well at court, whether the king regnant was of the older or younger branch, whether the government was doctrinaire liberal, or conservative; looked upon by all as a man of talent, since those who have never experienced a political check are generally so regarded; hated by many, but warmly supported by others, without being really liked by anybody, M. de Villefort held a high position in the magistracy, and maintained his eminence like a Harlay or a Molé. His drawing-room, under the regenerating influence of a young wife and a daughter by his first marriage, scarcely eighteen, was still one of the well-regulated Paris salons where the worship of traditional customs and the observance of rigid etiquette were carefully maintained. A freezing politeness, a strict fidelity to government principles, a profound contempt for theories and theorists, a deep-seated hatred of ideality,--these were the elements of private and public life displayed by M. de Villefort. 
He was not only a magistrate, he was almost a diplomatist. His relations with the former court, of which he always spoke with dignity and respect, made him respected by the new one, and he knew so many things, that not only was he always carefully considered, but sometimes consulted. Perhaps this would not have been so had it been possible to get rid of M. de Villefort; but, like the feudal barons who rebelled against their sovereign, he dwelt in an impregnable fortress. This fortress was his post as king's attorney, all the advantages of which he exploited with marvellous skill, and which he would not have resigned but to be made deputy, and thus to replace neutrality by opposition. Ordinarily M. de Villefort made and returned very few visits. His wife visited for him, and this was the received thing in the world, where the weighty and multifarious occupations of the magistrate were accepted as an excuse for what was really only calculated pride, a manifestation of professed superiority--in fact, the application of the axiom, "Pretend to think well of yourself, and the world will think well of you," an axiom a hundred times more useful in society nowadays than that of the Greeks, "Know thyself," a knowledge for which, in our days, we have substituted the less difficult and more advantageous science of knowing others. 
To his friends M. de Villefort was a powerful protector; to his enemies, he was a silent, but bitter opponent; for those who were neither the one nor the other, he was a statue of the law-made man. He had a haughty bearing, a look either steady and impenetrable or insolently piercing and inquisitorial. Four successive revolutions had built and cemented the pedestal upon which his fortune was based. M. de Villefort had the reputation of being the least curious and the least wearisome man in France. He gave a ball every year, at which he appeared for a quarter of an hour only,--that is to say, five and forty minutes less than the king is visible at his balls. He was never seen at the theatres, at concerts, or in any place of public resort. Occasionally, but seldom, he played at whist, and then care was taken to select partners worthy of him--sometimes they were ambassadors, sometimes archbishops, or sometimes a prince, or a president, or some dowager duchess. Such was the man whose carriage had just now stopped before the Count of Monte Cristo's door. The valet de chambre announced M. de Villefort at the moment when the count, leaning over a large table, was tracing on a map the route from St. Petersburg to China. 
The procureur entered with the same grave and measured step he would have employed in entering a court of justice. He was the same man, or rather the development of the same man, whom we have heretofore seen as assistant attorney at Marseilles. Nature, according to her way, had made no deviation in the path he had marked out for himself. From being slender he had now become meagre; once pale, he was now yellow; his deep-set eyes were hollow, and the gold spectacles shielding his eyes seemed to be an integral portion of his face. He dressed entirely in black, with the exception of his white tie, and his funeral appearance was only mitigated by the slight line of red ribbon which passed almost imperceptibly through his button-hole, and appeared like a streak of blood traced with a delicate brush. Although master of himself, Monte Cristo, scrutinized with irrepressible curiosity the magistrate whose salute he returned, and who, distrustful by habit, and especially incredulous as to social prodigies, was much more dispised to look upon "the noble stranger," as Monte Cristo was already called, as an adventurer in search of new fields, or an escaped criminal, rather than as a prince of the Holy See, or a sultan of the Thousand and One Nights. 
"Sir," said Villefort, in the squeaky tone assumed by magistrates in their oratorical periods, and of which they cannot, or will not, divest themselves in society, "sir, the signal service which you yesterday rendered to my wife and son has made it a duty for me to offer you my thanks. I have come, therefore, to discharge this duty, and to express to you my overwhelming gratitude." And as he said this, the "eye severe" of the magistrate had lost nothing of its habitual arrogance. He spoke in a voice of the procureur-general, with the rigid inflexibility of neck and shoulders which caused his flatterers to say (as we have before observed) that he was the living statue of the law. 
"Monsieur," replied the count, with a chilling air, "I am very happy to have been the means of preserving a son to his mother, for they say that the sentiment of maternity is the most holy of all; and the good fortune which occurred to me, monsieur, might have enabled you to dispense with a duty which, in its discharge, confers an undoubtedly great honor; for I am aware that M. de Villefort is not usually lavish of the favor which he now bestows on me,--a favor which, however estimable, is unequal to the satisfaction which I have in my own consciousness." Villefort, astonished at this reply, which he by no means expected, started like a soldier who feels the blow levelled at him over the armor he wears, and a curl of his disdainful lip indicated that from that moment he noted in the tablets of his brain that the Count of Monte Cristo was by no means a highly bred gentleman. He glanced around. in order to seize on something on which the conversation might turn, and seemed to fall easily on a topic. He saw the map which Monte Cristo had been examining when he entered, and said, "You seem geographically engaged, sir? It is a rich study for you, who, as I learn, have seen as many lands as are delineated on this map." 
"Yes, sir," replied the count; "l have sought to make of the human race, taken in the mass, what you practice every day on individuals--a physiological study. I have believed it was much easier to descend from the whole to a part than to ascend from a part to the whole. It is an algebraic axiom, which makes us proceed from a known to an unknown quantity, and not from an unknown to a known; but sit down, sir, I beg of you." 
Monte Cristo pointed to a chair, which the procureur was obliged to take the trouble to move forwards himself, while the count merely fell back into his own, on which he had been kneeling when M. Villefort entered. Thus the count was halfway turned towards his visitor, having his back towards the window, his elbow resting on the geographical chart which furnished the theme of conversation for the moment,--a conversation which assumed, as in the case of the interviews with Danglars and Morcerf, a turn analogous to the persons, if not to the situation. "Ah, you philosophize," replied Villefort, after a moment's silence, during which, like a wrestler who encounters a powerful opponent, he took breath; "well, sir, really, if, like you, I had nothing else to do, I should seek a more amusing occupation." 
"Why, in truth, sir," was Monte Cristo's reply, "man is but an ugly caterpillar for him who studies him through a solar microscope; but you said, I think, that I had nothing else to do. Now, really, let me ask, sir, have you?--do you believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms, do you really think that what you do deserves being called anything?" 
Villefort's astonishment redoubled at this second thrust so forcibly made by his strange adversary. It was a long time since the magistrate had heard a paradox so strong, or rather, to say the truth more exactly, it was the first time he had ever heard of it. The procureur exerted himself to reply. "Sir," he responded, "you are a stranger, and I believe you say yourself that a portion of your life has been spent in Oriental countries, so you are not aware how human justice, so expeditions in barbarous countries, takes with us a prudent and well-studied course." 
"Oh, yes--yes, I do, sir; it is the pede claudo of the ancients. I know all that, for it is with the justice of all countries especially that I have occupied myself--it is with the criminal procedure of all nations that I have compared natural justice, and I must say, sir, that it is the law of primitive nations, that is, the law of retaliation, that I have most frequently found to be according to the law of God." 
"If this law were adopted, sir," said the procureur, "it would greatly simplify our legal codes, and in that case the magistrates would not (as you just observed) have much to do." 
"It may, perhaps, come to this in time," observed Monte Cristo; "you know that human inventions march from the complex to the simple, and simplicity is always perfection." 
"In the meanwhile," continued the magistrate, "our codes are in full force, with all their contradictory enactments derived from Gallic customs, Roman laws, and Frank usages; the knowledge of all which, you will agree, is not to be acquired without extended labor; it needs tedious study to acquire this knowledge, and, when acquired, a strong power of brain to retain it." 
"I agree with you entirely, sir; but all that even you know with respect to the French code, I know, not only in reference to that code, but as regards the codes of all nations. The English, Turkish, Japanese, Hindu laws, are as familiar to me as the French laws, and thus I was right, when I said to you, that relatively (you know that everything is relative, sir)--that relatively to what I have done, you have very little to do; but that relatively to all I have learned, you have yet a great deal to learn." 
"But with what motive have you learned all this?" inquired Villefort, in astonishment. Monte Cristo smiled. "Really, sir," he observed, "I see that in spite of the reputation which you have acquired as a superior man, you look at everything from the material and vulgar view of society, beginning with man, and ending with man--that is to say, in the most restricted, most narrow view which it is possible for human understanding to embrace." 
"Pray, sir, explain yourself," said Villefort, more and more astonished, "I really do--not--understand you--perfectly." 
"I say, sir, that with the eyes fixed on the social organization of nations, you see only the springs of the machine, and lose sight of the sublime workman who makes them act; I say that you do not recognize before you and around you any but those office-holders whose commissions have been signed by a minister or king; and that the men whom God has put above those office-holders, ministers, and kings, by giving them a mission to follow out, instead of a post to fill--I say that they escape your narrow, limited field of observation. It is thus that human weakness fails, from its debilitated and imperfect organs. Tobias took the angel who restored him to light for an ordinary young man. The nations took Attila, who was doomed to destroy them, for a conqueror similar to other conquerors, and it was necessary for both to reveal their missions, that they might be known and acknowledged; one was compelled to say, 'I am the angel of the Lord'; and the other, 'I am the hammer of God,' in order that the divine essence in both might be revealed." 
"Then," said Villefort, more and more amazed, and really supposing he was speaking to a mystic or a madman, "you consider yourself as one of those extraordinary beings whom you have mentioned?" 
"And why not?" said Monte Cristo coldly. 
"Your pardon, sir," replied Villefort, quite astounded, "but you will excuse me if, when I presented myself to you, I was unaware that I should meet with a person whose knowledge and understanding so far surpass the usual knowledge and understanding of men. It is not usual with us corrupted wretches of civilization to find gentlemen like yourself, possessors, as you are, of immense fortune--at least, so it is said--and I beg you to observe that I do not inquire, I merely repeat;--it is not usual, I say, for such privileged and wealthy beings to waste their time in speculations on the state of society, in philosophical reveries, intended at best to console those whom fate has disinherited from the goods of this world." 
"Really, sir," retorted the count, "have you attained the eminent situation in which you are, without having admitted, or even without having met with exceptions? and do you never use your eyes, which must have acquired so much finesse and certainty, to divine, at a glance, the kind of man by whom you are confronted? Should not a magistrate be not merely the best administrator of the law, but the most crafty expounder of the chicanery of his profession, a steel probe to search hearts, a touchstone to try the gold which in each soul is mingled with more or less of alloy?" 
"Sir," said Villefort, "upon my word, you overcome me. I really never heard a person speak as you do." 
"Because you remain eternally encircled in a round of general conditions, and have never dared to raise your wings into those upper spheres which God has peopled with invisible or exceptional beings." 
"And you allow then, sir, that spheres exist, and that these marked and invisible beings mingle amongst us?" 
"Why should they not? Can you see the air you breathe, and yet without which you could not for a moment exist?" 
"Then we do not see those beings to whom you allude?" 
"Yes, we do; you see them whenever God pleases to allow them to assume a material form. You touch them, come in contact with them, speak to them, and they reply to you." 
"Ah," said Villefort, smiling, "I confess I should like to be warned when one of these beings is in contact with me." 
"You have been served as you desire, monsieur, for you were warned just now, and I now again warn you." 
"Then you yourself are one of these marked beings?" 
"Yes, monsieur, I believe so; for until now, no man has found himself in a position similar to mine. The dominions of kings are limited either by mountains or rivers, or a change of manners, or an alteration of language. My kingdom is bounded only by the world, for I am not an Italian, or a Frenchman, or a Hindu, or an American, or a Spaniard--I am a cosmopolite. No country can say it saw my birth. God alone knows what country will see me die. I adopt all customs, speak all languages. You believe me to be a Frenchman, for I speak French with the same facility and purity as yourself. Well, Ali, my Nubian, believes me to be an Arab; Bertuccio, my steward, takes me for a Roman; Haidée, my slave, thinks me a Greek. You may, therefore, comprehend, that being of no country, asking no protection from any government, acknowledging no man as my brother, not one of the scruples that arrest the powerful, or the obstacles which paralyze the weak, paralyzes or arrests me. I have only two adversaries--I will not say two conquerors, for with perseverance I subdue even them,--they are time and distance. There is a third, and the most terrible--that is my condition as a mortal being. This alone can stop me in my onward career, before I have attained the goal at which I aim, for all the rest I have reduced to mathematical terms. What men call the chances of fate--namely, ruin, change, circumstances--I have fully anticipated, and if any of these should overtake me, yet it will not overwhelm me. Unless I die, I shall always be what I am, and therefore it is that I utter the things you have never heard, even from the mouths of kings--for kings have need, and other persons have fear of you. For who is there who does not say to himself, in a society as incongruously organized as ours, 'Perhaps some day I shall have to do with the king's attorney'?" 
"But can you not say that, sir? The moment you become an inhabitant of France, you are naturally subjected to the French law." 
"I know it sir," replied Monte Cristo; "but when I visit a country I begin to study, by all the means which are available, the men from whom I may have anything to hope or to fear, till I know them as well as, perhaps better than, they know themselves. It follows from this, that the king's attorney, be he who he may, with whom I should have to deal, would assuredly be more embarrassed than I should." 
"That is to say," replied Villefort with hesitation, "that human nature being weak, every man, according to your creed, has committed faults." 
"Faults or crimes," responded Monte Cristo with a negligent air. 
"And that you alone, amongst the men whom you do not recognize as your brothers--for you have said so," observed Villefort in a tone that faltered somewhat--"you alone are perfect." 
"No, not perfect," was the count's reply; "only impenetrable, that's all. But let us leave off this strain, sir, if the tone of it is displeasing to you; I am no more disturbed by your justice than are you by my second-sight." 
"No, no,--by no means," said Villefort, who was afraid of seeming to abandon his ground. "No; by your brilliant and almost sublime conversation you have elevated me above the ordinary level; we no longer talk, we rise to dissertation. But you know how the theologians in their collegiate chairs, and philosophers in their controversies, occasionally say cruel truths; let us suppose for the moment that we are theologizing in a social way, or even philosophically, and I will say to you, rude as it may seem, 'My brother, you sacrifice greatly to pride; you may be above others, but above you there is God.'" 
"Above us all, sir," was Monte Cristo's response, in a tone and with an emphasis so deep that Villefort involuntarily shuddered. "I have my pride for men--serpents always ready to threaten every one who would pass without crushing them under foot. But I lay aside that pride before God, who has taken me from nothing to make me what I am." 
"Then, count, I admire you," said Villefort, who, for the first time in this strange conversation, used the aristocratic form to the unknown personage, whom, until now, he had only called monsieur. "Yes, and I say to you, if you are really strong, really superior, really pious, or impenetrable, which you were right in saying amounts to the same thing--then be proud, sir, for that is the characteristic of predominance. Yet you have unquestionably some ambition." 
"I have, sir." 
"And what may it be?" 
"I too, as happens to every man once in his life, have been taken by Satan into the highest mountain in the earth, and when there he showed me all the kingdoms of the world, and as he said before, so said he to me, 'Child of earth, what wouldst thou have to make thee adore me?' I reflected long, for a gnawing ambition had long preyed upon me, and then I replied, 'Listen,--I have always heard of providence, and yet I have never seen him, or anything that resembles him, or which can make me believe that he exists. I wish to be providence myself, for I feel that the most beautiful, noblest, most sublime thing in the world, is to recompense and punish.' Satan bowed his head, and groaned. 'You mistake,' he said, 'providence does exist, only you have never seen him, because the child of God is as invisible as the parent. You have seen nothing that resembles him, because he works by secret springs, and moves by hidden ways. All I can do for you is to make you one of the agents of that providence.' The bargain was concluded. I may sacrifice my soul, but what matters it?" added Monte Cristo. "If the thing were to do again, I would again do it." Villefort looked at Monte Cristo with extreme amazement. "Count," he inquired, "have you any relations?" 
"No, sir, I am alone in the world." 
"So much the worse." 
"Why?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"Because then you might witness a spectacle calculated to break down your pride. You say you fear nothing but death?" 
"I did not say that I feared it; I only said that death alone could check the execution of my plans." 
"And old age?" 
"My end will be achieved before I grow old." 
"And madness?" 
"I have been nearly mad; and you know the axiom,--non bis in idem. It is an axiom of criminal law, and, consequently, you understand its full application." 
"Sir," continued Villefort, "there is something to fear besides death, old age, and madness. For instance, there is apoplexy--that lightning-stroke which strikes but does not destroy you, and yet which brings everything to an end. You are still yourself as now, and yet you are yourself no longer; you who, like Ariel, verge on the angelic, are but an inert mass, which, like Caliban, verges on the brutal; and this is called in human tongues, as I tell you, neither more nor less than apoplexy. Come, if so you will, count, and continue this conversation at my house, any day you may be willing to see an adversary capable of understanding and anxious to refute you, and I will show you my father, M. Noirtier de Villefort, one of the most fiery Jacobins of the French Revolution; that is to say, he had the most remarkable audacity, seconded by a most powerful organization--a man who has not, perhaps, like yourself seen all the kingdoms of the earth, but who has helped to overturn one of the greatest; in fact, a man who believed himself, like you, one of the envoys, not of God, but of a supreme being; not of providence, but of fate. Well, sir, the rupture of a blood-vessel on the lobe of the brain has destroyed all this, not in a day, not in an hour, but in a second. M. Noirtier, who, on the previous night, was the old Jacobin, the old senator, the old Carbonaro, laughing at the guillotine, the cannon, and the dagger--M. Noirtier, playing with revolutions--M. Noirtier, for whom France was a vast chess-board, from which pawns, rooks, knights, and queens were to disappear, so that the king was checkmated--M. Noirtier, the redoubtable, was the next morning poor M. Noirtier, the helpless old man, at the tender mercies of the weakest creature in the household, that is, his grandchild, Valentine; a dumb and frozen carcass, in fact, living painlessly on, that time may be given for his frame to decompose without his consciousness of its decay." 
"Alas, sir," said Monte Cristo "this spectacle is neither strange to my eye nor my thought. I am something of a physician, and have, like my fellows, sought more than once for the soul in living and in dead matter; yet, like providence, it has remained invisible to my eyes, although present to my heart. A hundred writers since Socrates, Seneca, St. Augustine, and Gall, have made, in verse and prose, the comparison you have made, and yet I can well understand that a father's sufferings may effect great changes in the mind of a son. I will call on you, sir, since you bid me contemplate, for the advantage of my pride, this terrible spectacle, which must have been so great a source of sorrow to your family." 
"It would have been so unquestionably, had not God given me so large a compensation. In contrast with the old man, who is dragging his way to the tomb, are two children just entering into life--Valentine, the daughter by my first wife--Mademoiselle Renée de Saint-Méran--and Edward, the boy whose life you have this day saved." 
"And what is your deduction from this compensation, sir?" inquired Monte Cristo. 
"My deduction is," replied Villefort, "that my father, led away by his passions, has committed some fault unknown to human justice, but marked by the justice of God. That God, desirous in his mercy to punish but one person, has visited this justice on him alone." Monte Cristo with a smile on his lips, uttered in the depths of his soul a groan which would have made Villefort fly had he but heard it. "Adieu, sir," said the magistrate, who had risen from his seat; "I leave you, bearing a remembrance of you--a remembrance of esteem, which I hope will not be disagreeable to you when you know me better; for I am not a man to bore my friends, as you will learn. Besides, you have made an eternal friend of Madame de Villefort." The count bowed, and contented himself with seeing Villefort to the door of his cabinet, the procureur being escorted to his carriage by two footmen, who, on a signal from their master, followed him with every mark of attention. When he had gone, Monte Cristo breathed a profound sigh, and said,--"Enough of this poison, let me now seek the antidote." Then sounding his bell, he said to Ali, who entered, "I am going to madam's chamber--have the carriage ready at one o'clock."  
假如基督山伯爵曾在巴黎生活过一段相当长的时间，那他一定会充分了解维尔福先生采取的这个步骤的重要性。不论在朝掌权的国王是新是老，不论执政的是立宪派、自由派或是保守派，维尔福先生在宫廷里的地位始终是很稳固的，所有的人都认为他很能干，正如我们把那些在政治上从没遭受过挫折的看作是有才干一样，很多人恨他，但也有很多人热心地保护他，只是从来没有一个人真正地喜欢他。他在司法界一直地位很高，而且能始终以中直的态度维持着他这个地位。他的会客室，在他年轻的妻子和他那未满十八岁的、前妻所生的女儿的操持之下，可称得上是巴黎最正统的客厅之一。小心尊崇着传统习俗，严格的礼节、礼貌，对政府的各项政策忠贞不渝，对各种理论和理论家的极端蔑视，对理想主义的深恶痛绝——这些就是维尔福先生在内心深处或公开场合所标榜的人生哲学。 
维尔福先生不仅是位法官，而且几乎是位外交家。他和旧王朝的关系使他得到了今天的器重，每当他讲到旧王朝时，总是显出庄严恭敬的态度，而他所知道的事情太多了，所以他不但始终受到当朝人的迁就，而且有时还承蒙咨询。要是人们能除掉维尔福先生的话，情形或许就不会象现在这个样子，但他就象那些敢于违抗国王的封建诸侯一样，住在一个无法攻陷的堡垒里。这个堡垒就是他身为检察官的这个职位。他极其巧妙地运用了这个职位所带来的种种优势，不管在什么情况下，他都决不辞职，至多只请人暂时代理一下，以此避免反对的立刻而始终处于保守中立。维尔福先生通常极少出去拜客，也极少回拜。他的妻子代他去拜客，这已是社会上所公认的事了，他们以为法官工作繁重而谅解了他，实际上他却是出于一种傲慢的想法，这正是贵族的本质——的确，他实践了“只要你自以为了不起，别人也就会以为你了不起”这句格言，这句格言在我们这个社会里比起希腊人的那句“认识你自己，”实在是更有用，而我们却用那比较省力而更有利的“认识别人” 
取代了希腊人的这句格言。 
对他的朋友，维尔福先生是一个强有力的保护者，对于他的仇敌，他是一个沉默的死对头，对那些在这两者之间的人，他是法律的化身。傲慢神气，死板的面孔，沉着冷漠或锐利探询的目光，即有这些使这个人巧妙地度过了接连而来的四次革命，在革命中建立和巩固了他升官发财的根基。维尔福先生在法国一向是以最不好奇和最不怕麻烦的人见称的。他每年开一次舞会，在那次舞会里，他只到场一刻钟。他从来不去戏院，音乐会，或任何公共娱乐场所。偶尔的，只是这种场合也很少，他会玩玩威斯特牌戏［一种扑克牌的游戏。——译注］；而那时他必定认真挑选够资格和他一起玩牌的——如大使、大主教、亲王、总统或寡居的公爵夫人之流。现在把车停在基督山伯爵的门前的，正是这个人。 
跟班去通报维尔福先生来访的时候，伯爵正伏在一张大桌子上，在一张地图上寻找从圣彼得堡到中国去的路线。 
检察官以他步入法庭时那种庄重和平稳的步子走了进来。他从前在马赛当代理检察官时我们曾见过他，还是那个人，说得更确切些，是原来的那个人现在达到了最完美的阶段。 
照例在他身上造成了某些变化，但在这变化中他却未改变多少。他人从消瘦变成了羸弱，脸色从苍白变成了焦黄；他那深陷的眼睛现在更深了；他那一副金边眼镜，架在鼻子上的时候，似乎成了他脸上的一部分。他着一身黑衣服，只有领带是白的。这身打扮唯一不同于丧服的地方，就是穿在纽孔上的那条几乎难以觉察的红丝带，象是用红铅笔划出来的一缕血丝。基督山虽然极能自制，这时，他在还礼之后，竟还是抑制不住好奇心仔细地观察起这位法官来，而对方一向惯于怀疑一切，尤其不相信社会上会有所谓的奇人奇事，所以他也极想看出这位外国贵宾（已经有人这样称呼基督山了）究竟是个挪一下窝一显身手的大骗子或不法之徒呢，还是位来自圣海的王子或《一千零一夜》里的苏丹。 
“阁下，”维尔福说道，说话的门吻和法官在演讲的时候一样，好象他在社交场合也不能或不愿放弃这种腔调似的，“阁下，昨天蒙您大力相助，救我的妻子和儿子的命，我觉得我有义务向您表示谢意。所以请允许我今天来履行这个义务，让我向您表示我衷心的感谢。”说这番话的时候，法官那严厉的目光里依旧含有他往常那种骄矜的神气。他是以一个首席检察官的语气和单调来说这几句话的，脖子硬挺挺地一动都不动，这正是为什么那些恭维他的人说他是法律的化身。 
“阁下，”伯爵冷冰冰地回答说，“我非常高兴能有机会为一位母亲保全了她的儿子。因为常言道，母子之情是世界上最真挚神圣的感情，而我的运气好，阁下，使您来此履行一种义务，而您在履行这种义务的时候，无疑的给了我莫大的荣幸。因为我知道，维尔福先生对我的这种赏脸平时不是轻易肯给的，但是，这种荣幸不论多么可贵，却仍然不足以与我内心里所感到的满足相比。” 
维尔福决想不到会得到这样的回答，他不禁吃了一惊，就象个军人感到他所穿的甲胃上被人猛击了一下似的，他的嘴唇轻蔑地微微一弯，表示从现在起，他想象中的基督山伯爵不再是一个文明的绅士了。他向四周看了一下，想找点什么来作为继续交谈的话题，因为刚才的那个话题似乎已摔得粉碎了。 
他看到了他进来时基督山在研究的那张地图，于是说道，“您好象在研究地理吧，阁下。这可是一种很有趣的学问，尤其是您，我听说，凡是这张地图上标明的地方您都已经见识过了。” 
“是的，阁下，”伯爵答道，“我很想把人类当作一个整体来进行一番哲学研究，而您却是每天在作单个的实验。我相信，从整体来推论部分比从部分来求解整体要容易得多。这是代数学上的一条定理，我们应该从已知数来推论未知数，而不是从未知数来求已知数，请坐，阁下。” 
  
  
基督山指了指一张椅子，于是那位检察官不得不向前移动几步坐了下来，而伯爵确向后一靠，便坐到了他椅子里，维尔福先生进来的时候，他原就是坐到了他的椅子上的。所以伯爵是侧面向着他的客人，背向着窗，手肘撑在那张当时正在谈论的地图上，这一番谈话也象以前与腾格拉尔和马尔塞夫谈话的时候一样，是随环境和对方的为人而改变的。 
“啊，您自称为哲学家，”维尔福沉默了一会儿说道，他趁这沉默的期间喘了一口气，象是一个摔跤手遇到了一个强有力的对手，“哦，阁下，真的，假如我也象您这样无所事事的话，我一定会去找一件更有趣的事来做的。” 
“老实说，阁下，”基督山答道，“如果把人放在一只日光显微镜下来研究一下的话，他实在只不过是一条丑陋的毛虫而已。您说我无所事事，真的，现在我也来问一句，那么您呢？您认为您是有所事事的吗？说得更明白一些，您以为您所做的一切够得上称为‘事吗’？” 
这个陌生的敌手所作的第二次进攻如此猛烈，以致维尔福不禁又增加了一份惊异。这样强有力的怪论此法官已好久没听到了，说得正确些，这还是他生平第一次听到，检察官竭力作出回答。“阁下，”他说道，“您是一位外国人，我相信您自己也曾说过，您曾在东方各国住过很长时间，所以您不了解人类的法律是如何值得我们审慎详密的研究一番，因为在那些野蛮的国家是根本谈不上什么法律的。” 
“噢，不，不，我了解，阁下，那一切我都知道，因为我是专门研究各国法律的。我曾拿各国的刑事法来和自然法作比较。而我得说，阁下，我常常发现原始部落法律，即报复法，是最符合上帝意志的法律。” 
“假如采用了这条法律，先生，”检察官说道，“我们的法典就可以大大地简化了。倘若如此，那么正如您刚才所说的，法官们就会没有多少事可做了。” 
“这种情形或许会出现的，”基督山说道。“您知道，人类的发明创造从复杂趋向简单，而简单的总是完美的。” 
“但目前，”法官又说道，“我们的法典却正处于全盛时期，它是根据茄立克族［法国民族的一支。——译注］的风俗，罗马法律和法兰克族［法国民族的一支。——译注］的惯例，从这一切相互向矛盾相触的条例中推断制定出来的。而那种种知识，想必您也同意这种说法，不经过长期的努力是无法获得的，要获得这种知识必须经过一番刻苦的研究，而且还必须经过有力的脑力劳动才能把它保存下来。” 
“我完全同意您的看法，阁下，对法国法典的一切可能您都有所了解，而我所了解的，却不仅仅是哪一部法典，而是世界各国的法典。英国的，土耳其的，日本的，印度的都有，对我来说，都和法国的法律一样熟悉，所以我刚才说得没错，相对而言，您也知道，一切都是相对的，阁下相对而言，和我所完成的工作比较起来，您所要做的那些少得可怜，而和我所学到的所有知识比较起来，您还得再学习很多才行。” 
“您学习这一切是出于什么动机呢？”维尔福惊讶地问道。 
基督山微笑了一下。“真的，先生，”他说道，“我看您尽管有智士美誉，但您对于一切事物的看法，却仍抱有社会上那种唯物的和通俗的观点，始于人而终于人。也就是说，是人类观察事物时所能采取的最局限，最狭隘的一种观点。” 
“阁下，请您解释得再清楚一些，”维尔福说道，他愈来愈惊奇了，“我实在不十分明白。” 
“我的意思是说，阁下，由于把目光只放在各国的社会机构上，所以您所看到的只是那些机器在转动，而没有看到使它转动的那位了不起的工程师，我是说您周围所认识的，无非是那些由部长或国王颁发了委任状的大小官吏。而在这些挂名的官吏，部长和国王之上，却还有上帝派的人，上帝不是派他们来充填位子的，而是让他们来执行任务的，但他们却逃过了您那狭隘的目光。所以人类由于他们的器官衰弱和不完备而产生了缺点。多比亚斯［基督教《经外书》中的人物。——译注］把那个恢复他视觉的天使看作一个普通的青年人，各国把那个受天命来毁灭他们的阿提拉［古代匈奴人的国王。——译注］与其他的征服者当作同类看待，因此为了让人们认识他们，承认他们，他们不得不宣布他们的使命。前者不得不说：‘我是主的天使。’而后者说：‘我是上帝惩恶的使者。’这样，他们两人的神性才能大白于天下。” 
“那么，”维尔福说道，他愈来愈惊愕了，真的以为他不是在和一个神学家就是一个疯子在说话，“您认为自己就是您所说的特种人物吗？” 
“为什么不是呢？”基督山冷冷地说道。 
“对不起，阁下，”维尔福回答说，简直有点惊呆了，“想必您能原谅我，因为当我前来拜访您的时候，我决没想到会遇到一位知识和见解远远超出常人理解范围之外的人。象您这样一位极富有的绅士，至少，人们是这样说的，请注意，我并不是盘问您，只是重复别人所说的话而已，我想说，象您这样有钱的特权阶级，竟会把时间浪费在对社会的空谈或哲学幻想上，在我们这种文明社会中那些腐化了的可怜虫之间，的确是不常见的，因为社会空谈或哲学幻想最适合于去安慰那些生来命穷，又不走运，无法享受世上荣华富贵的人。” 
“真的，阁下，”伯爵反驳道，“您已经达到如此显要的地位，难道您还算不上是个特别的人，或者竟没遇到过特别的人吗？您的目光一定非常老练可靠，难道您从来没有，在一瞥之下就推断出到您面前过来的是哪一种人吗？一个法官除了无尽职守地按法律行事以外，除了极技巧地解释他工作上耍的诡计之外，难道不该做一枚可以探测心脏的钢针，一块可以测验出灵魂中含有多少杂质的试金石吗？” 
“阁下，”维尔福说道，“老实讲，您驳倒了我。我从没听到过别人象您这样讲话。” 
“因为您总使自己处在一个平凡的环境里，从不敢振翅高飞，冲进上帝安派那些看不到的特殊人的领域里。” 
“那么您认为，阁下，那种领域的确存在，这些看不到的特殊人的确是和我们混杂在一的吗？” 
“他们为什么不呢？您离开了空气就一刻也不能生存，但您能看得见您所呼吸的空气吗？” 
“那么说我们是无法看见您所指的那种人了？” 
“不，我们能看见的，当上帝高兴让他们现出实形的时候，您就能看见他们了。您可以触摸到他们，同他们交往，跟他们讲话，而他们也会回答您的。” 
“啊！”维尔福微笑着说道，“我承认，当这种人前来和我接触的时候，我倒很希望能事先得到一个警告。” 
“您的愿望已经实现了，阁下，因为您刚才就已经得到了警告，而我现在再来警告您一次。” 
“那么您就是这种杰出的人物了？” 
“是的，阁下，我相信到目前为止，还没有哪一个人的地位可以与我相比。国王的领土都是有限的，或限于山脉河流，或限于风俗习惯的改变，或限于语言的不同。我的王国却是以整个世界为界限。因为我既不是意大利人也不是法国人，不是印度人也不是美国人，也不是什么西班牙人，我是一个宇宙人。没有哪一个国家可以说它看到了我的降生，而只有上帝才知道哪一个国家会看到我死。我能适应各种风俗习惯，通晓各种语言，您若相信我是个法国人，那是因为我讲起法语来能象您一样流利纯正。可是，阿里，我的黑奴，却相信我是阿拉伯人；贝尔图乔，我的管家，把我当作了罗马人；海黛，我的奴隶，认为我是希腊人。所以您大概可以明白了吧，由于没有国籍，不要求任何政府的保护，不承认任何人是我的兄弟，因此，凡是那可以阻止强者的种种顾忌或可以麻痹弱者的种种障碍，都无法麻痹或阻止我。我只有两个对手，我不愿意说是两位征服者，因为只要坚忍不屈，甚至连他们我也是可以克服的。他们就是时间和空间。而那第二个对手，也是最可怕的，就是，我将来也必有一死。只有这才能阻止我的行动，使我无法到达我预期的目标，其余的一切我都算定了。凡是人们所谓命运机遇的那些东西，如破产，变迁，环境等等，我都已经预料到了，假如这些因素突然来袭击我，它们是决不能使我一蹶不振的。除非我死了，否则我是永远不会改变我的信仰，所以我敢说出这些您从没听说过的事情，这些事情即使从国王的嘴里您也听不到的。因为国王需要您，而其他的人怕您。在我们这样一个组织不健全的社会里，人人都免不了要对自己说：‘也许有一天我会有求于检察官的吧？”’“但您敢肯定不会说那句话吗，阁下？因为您一旦成了法国的一位公民，您自然就得遵守该国的法律。” 
“这我知道，阁下，”基督山答道，“但当我去访问一个国家的时候我就开始用各种可能的方法来研究那些我可能有求于他或害怕他的人，直到我把这些人了解清清楚楚，象他们了解自己一样或许比他们自己了解得还清楚。基于这种想法不管检察官是谁，假如他要对付我的话他一定会发现自己的处境并不比我妙。” 
“那就是说，”维尔福吞吞吐吐地答道“人类的本性中就是有缺点的，按您的标准来看，每个人都是犯了过失的。” 
“过失或是罪过。”基督山以一种随便的神气回答道。 
“您刚才说，您在人类中没有你的兄弟那么，在全人类中，”维尔福多少有点儿犹豫地说，“只有您是十全十美的了。” 
“不，并非是十全十美”伯爵回答说“只是无法看穿罢了。假如这种格调使您不愉快的话我们还是停止这一场舌战吧，先生，您的法律并没有打扰到我，正如我的第二视觉并没有打扰您一样。” 
“没有，没有，决没有，”维尔福说道，他象怕放弃他的优势似的“您这一番光辉而且几乎可以说是崇高的谈话已把我抬举到了普通的水准以上。我们已不再是聊天了，我们是在进行讨论。但您知道，那些坐在大学交椅里的神学家，和那些坐在辩论席上的哲学家，偶尔也会说出残酷的真理。我们暂且算是在讨论社会神学和宗教哲学吧，下面这几句话听来虽有些不礼貌，但我还是要对您说：‘兄弟，你太自负了，你也许比别人高明，但在你之上还有上帝呢。’” 
“在我们大家之上，阁下。”基督山这样回答道，其语气是这样沉重，使维尔福不由自主地打了个寒颤。“我对人是自负的，正如赤练蛇每当看见有人经过它的旁边时总昂起头来攻击他的，即使那人并没踩着它。但在上帝的面前，我放弃了那种自负，因为是上帝把我从一无所有提升到了现在这样的地位。” 
“那么，伯爵阁下，我钦佩您，”维尔福说道，在这篇奇异的谈话里，到目前为止，他还是第一次对这位神秘人物冠以贵族的称呼，刚才他只是称“阁下”，“是的，而且我要对您说，假如您真的高强，真的优越，真的神圣，或者是真的无法看穿，您把无法看穿和神圣等同起来，这一点的说得很对。那末您尽管骄矜好了，阁下，因为那是超人的特征。但毫无疑问您也是有野心的吧。” 
“我有一个野心，阁下。” 
“是什么？” 
“我，就象每个人在其一生中都可能会遇到的那样，曾被撒旦带到了世界最高的山顶上，在那儿，他把世界上所有的王国都指给我看，并且象他以前对人说过的那样对我说道，‘大地的孩子啊，你怎样才能崇拜我呢？’我想了很久，因为我早就怀有一种刻骨的野心，于是我回答说：‘听着：我常常听人说起救世主，可我从来没看见过他，也没看见过和他相象的东西，也不曾遇到过任何事物能够使我相信他的存在。我希望我自己能变成救世主，因为我觉得世界上最美丽，最高贵，最伟大的事业，莫过于报善和惩恶。’撒旦低头呻吟了一会儿。‘你错了，’他说道‘救世主是存在的，只是你看不到他罢了，因为上帝的孩子象他的父母一样，肉眼是看不到的。你没有看见过他是个什么样子，因为他赏罚无形，来去无踪。我所能办得到的，只是使你成为救世主的一个使者而已。’于是那场交易就结束了。我也许已丧失了自己的灵魂，但那又有什么关系呢？”基督山又说道，“要是这种事情再发生，我还是会这样干的。” 
维尔福非常吃惊地望着基督山。“伯爵阁下，”他问道，“您有什么亲戚吗？” 
“没有，先生，我在这个世界上是孤零零的一个人。” 
“那就糟了。” 
“为什么？”基督山问道。 
“因为那样您就得目睹一幕有伤于您的自负心的情景。您不是说过，您什么都不怕，只怕死吗？” 
“我并没有说我怕它，我只是说，只有它才能阻止我。” 
“老年呢？” 
“我的目的在我年老之前就可以达到的。” 
“疯狂呢？” 
“我是几乎发过疯，您知道有一句格言说‘一事不重现。’这是一句犯罪学上的格言，您当然充分了解它的意义了。” 
“阁下，”维尔福又说道，“除了死，老发疯以外，世界还有一些可怕的事情。譬如说，中风，那是一种闪电般的袭击，它只打击您，却并不毁灭您，可是经它打击之后，一切也就都完了。您的外貌当然一点都没有改变，但您已不再是以前的您了，您以前象吃过灵芝草的羚羊，但这时却变成了一块呆木头，就象那受了酷刑的卡立班［莎士比亚名剧《暴风雨》中的人物。——译注］，这种病，是生在人的舌头上，正如我所告诉您的，不折不扣地叫做中风。伯爵阁下，假如您愿意的话，随便哪一天，只要您高兴见到一个尚能解事而且急于想驳倒您的对手的话，那么，请到舍下来继续这一番谈话吧，我想介绍您同家父见面，也就是诺瓦蒂埃·维尔福先生，法国革命时期一个最激进的雅各宾派，也就是说，一个最目无法纪，最果断勇敢的人，他也许不曾象您那样到过世界上所有的王国，但他却曾帮助颠覆了世界上一个最强有力的国家，您相信自己是上帝和教世主的使者，他，象您一样，相信他自己是万神之主和命运的使音。可是，阁下，脑髓里一条血管的破裂就摧毁了这一切，而这发生在不到一天，不到一个钟头，而只在一秒钟的时间内。诺瓦蒂埃先生在头一天晚上还是老雅各宾派成员，老上议院的义员，老烧炭党分子，嘲笑断头台，嘲笑大炮，嘲笑匕首，诺瓦蒂埃先生，他玩弄革命，诺瓦蒂埃先生，对他来说法国是一面大棋盘，他使得小卒，城堡，骑士和王后一个个地失踪，甚至使国王被困，诺瓦蒂埃先生，这样可畏的一个人物，第二天早晨却一下子变成了‘可怜的诺瓦蒂埃先生’，变成了孤苦无助的老头子，得让家里最软弱无力的一员，就是他的孙女瓦朗蒂娜来照顾他。事实上，他只剩了一具又哑又僵的躯壳，在无声无息地喘着气，让时间慢慢地腐蚀他的全身，而他自己却感觉不到它在腐朽。” 
“唉，先生！”基督山说道，“这种事我都看到也想到过了。我也可以算是一个医生，我曾象我的同行那样几次三番的寻活人和死者的灵魂，而象救世主一样，我的肉眼虽看不到它，但我的心却能感觉到它的存在。自苏格拉底，［（公元前四七○—三九九），希腊哲学家。——译注］塞内加［（二—六五），西班牙学者。——译注］，圣奥古斯丁［（三五四—四三○），英国主教。——译注］和高卢［（一七五八—一八八二），德国著名医生。——译注］以来，无数的女人在诗歌或散文里写下过您所作的那种对比，可是，我也很能理解，一个父亲的痛苦或许会使一个儿子的头脑发生很大的转变。您既然建议我为我的自负心着想该去看一看那种可怕的情景，那么我一定前去府上拜访，先生，这种可怕的事情一定已使府上布满了忧郁的气氛吧。” 
“要不是上帝赐给了我一个极大的补偿，本来当然会是如此的。眼看着老人家自己在走向坟墓里，却有两个孩子刚巧踏上了生命的旅程。一个是瓦朗蒂娜，是我的前妻蕾姆·圣·梅朗小姐所生的女儿，一个是爱德华，就是今天您救的那个孩子。” 
“您从这个补偿上得出了什么结论，阁下？”基督山问道。 
“我的结论是，”维尔福答道，“家父在热情的激励之下，曾犯过某种过失，而那种过失人类的法庭不知道，但上帝的法庭却已经看到了，而上帝只想惩罚一个人，所以只降祸于他本人。” 
基督山的嘴上虽带着微笑，可在内心里却发出了一声怒吼，要是维尔福听到了这个声音，他一定会飞也似的逃走的。 
“再会了，阁下，”法官站起身来说道，“我虽然离开了您，可我会永远记得您的，而且是满怀尊重的心情的。我希望，当您和我相知较深的时候，您不会讨厌我这番情谊的，因为您将来就会了解，我不是一个爱打扰朋友的人。而且，您和维尔福夫人已结成永远的朋友了。” 
伯爵欠了欠身，亲自送维尔福到他的房门口，那位检察官作了一个手势，两个听差就毕恭恭毕敬地护送他们的主人到他的马车里去了。他走了之后，基督山从他那郁闷的胸膛里大大地吐出了一口气，说道，“这贴毒药真够受的，现在让我来找一服解毒剂吧。”于是他敲响了铜锣，并对进来的阿里说道，“我要到夫人的房间里去了，一点钟的时候，把马车备好。” 
Chapter 49 Haidée
 IT WILL BE recollected that the new, or rather old, acquaintances of the Count of Monte Cristo, residing in the Rue Meslay, were no other than Maximilian, Julie, and Emmanuel. The very anticipations of delight to be enjoyed in his forthcoming visits--the bright, pure gleam of heavenly happiness it diffused over the almost deadly warfare in which he had voluntarily engaged, illumined his whole countenance with a look of ineffable joy and calmness, as, immediately after Villefort's departure, his thoughts flew back to the cheering prospect before him, of tasting, at least, a brief respite from the fierce and stormy passions of his mind. Even Ali, who had hastened to obey the Count's summons, went forth from his master's presence in charmed amazement at the unusual animation and pleasure depicted on features ordinarily so stern and cold; while, as though dreading to put to flight the agreeable ideas hovering over his patron's meditations, whatever they were, the faithful Nubian walked on tiptoe towards the door, holding his breath, lest its faintest sound should dissipate his master's happy reverie. 
It was noon, and Monte Cristo had set apart one hour to be passed in the apartments of Haidée, as though his oppressed spirit could not all at once admit the feeling of pure and unmixed joy, but required a gradual succession of calm and gentle emotions to prepare his mind to receive full and perfect happiness, in the same manner as ordinary natures demand to be inured by degrees to the reception of strong or violent sensations. The young Greek, as we have already said, occupied apartments wholly unconnected with those of the count. The rooms had been fitted up in strict accordance with Oriental ideas; the floors were covered with the richest carpets Turkey could produce; the walls hung with brocaded silk of the most magnificent designs and texture; while around each chamber luxurious divans were placed, with piles of soft and yielding cushions, that needed only to be arranged at the pleasure or convenience of such as sought repose. Haidée and three French maids, and one who was a Greek. The first three remained constantly in a small waiting-room, ready to obey the summons of a small golden bell, or to receive the orders of the Romaic slave, who knew just enough French to be able to transmit her mistress's wishes to the three other waiting-women; the latter had received most peremptory instructions from Monte Cristo to treat Haidée with all the deference they would observe to a queen. 
The young girl herself generally passed her time in the chamber at the farther end of her apartments. This was a sort of boudoir, circular, and lighted only from the roof, which consisted of rose-colored glass. Haidée was reclining upon soft downy cushions, covered with blue satin spotted with silver; her head, supported by one of her exquisitely moulded arms, rested on the divan immediately behind her, while the other was employed in adjusting to her lips the coral tube of a rich narghile, through whose flexible pipe she drew the smoke fragrant by its passage through perfumed water. Her attitude, though perfectly natural for an Eastern woman would, in a European, have been deemed too full of coquettish straining after effect. Her dress, which was that of the women of Epirus, consisted of a pair of white satin trousers, embroidered with pink roses, displaying feet so exquisitely formed and so delicately fair, that they might well have been taken for Parian marble, had not the eye been undeceived by their movements as they constantly shifted in and out of a pair of little slippers with upturned toes, beautifully ornamented with gold and pearls. She wore a blue and white-striped vest, with long open sleeves, trimmed with silver loops and buttons of pearls, and a sort of bodice, which, closing only from the centre to the waist, exhibited the whole of the ivory throat and upper part of the bosom; it was fastened with three magnificent diamond clasps. The junction of the bodice and drawers was entirely concealed by one of the many-colored scarfs, whose brilliant hues and rich silken fringe have rendered them so precious in the eyes of Parisian belles. Tilted on one side of her head she had a small cap of gold-colored silk, embroidered with pearls; while on the other a purple rose mingled its glowing colors with the luxuriant masses of her hair, of which the blackness was so intense that it was tinged with blue. The extreme beauty of the countenance, that shone forth in loveliness that mocked the vain attempts of dress to augment it, was peculiarly and purely Grecian; there were the large, dark, melting eyes, the finely formed nose, the coral lips, and pearly teeth, that belonged to her race and country. And, to complete the whole, Haidée was in the very springtide and fulness of youthful charms--she had not yet numbered more than twenty summers. 
Monte Cristo summoned the Greek attendant, and bade her inquire whether it would be agreeable to her mistress to receive his visit. Haidée's only reply was to direct her servant by a sign to withdraw the tapestried curtain that hung before the door of her boudoir, the framework of the opening thus made serving as a sort of border to the graceful tableau presented by the young girl's picturesque attitude and appearance. As Monte Cristo approached, she leaned upon the elbow of the arm that held the narghile, and extending to him her other hand, said, with a smile of captivating sweetness, in the sonorous language spoken by the women of Athens and Sparta, "Why demand permission ere you enter? Are you no longer my master, or have I ceased to be your slave?" Monte Cristo returned her smile. "Haidée," said he, "you well know." 
"Why do you address me so coldly--so distantly?" asked the young Greek. "Have I by any means displeased you? Oh, if so, punish me as you will; but do not--do not speak to me in tones and manner so formal and constrained." 
"Haidée," replied the count, "you know that you are now in France, and are free." 
"Free to do what?" asked the young girl. 
"Free to leave me." 
"Leave you? Why should I leave you?" 
"That is not for me to say; but we are now about to mix in society--to visit and be visited." 
"I don't wish to see anybody but you." 
"And should you see one whom you could prefer, I would not be so unjust"-- 
"I have never seen any one I preferred to you, and I have never loved any one but you and my father." 
"My poor child," replied Monte Cristo, "that is merely because your father and myself are the only men who have ever talked to you." 
"I don't want anybody else to talk to me. My father said I was his joy--you style me your love,--and both of you have called me my child.'" 
"Do you remember your father, Haidée?" The young Greek smiled. "He is here, and here," said she, touching her eyes and her heart. "And where am I?" inquired Monte Cristo laughingly. 
"You?" cried she, with tones of thrilling tenderness, "you are everywhere!" Monte Cristo took the delicate hand of the young girl in his, and was about to raise it to his lips, when the simple child of nature hastily withdrew it, and presented her cheek. "You now understand, Haidée," said the count, "that from this moment you are absolutely free; that here you exercise unlimited sway, and are at liberty to lay aside or continue the costume of your country, as it may suit your inclination. Within this mansion you are absolute mistress of your actions, and may go abroad or remain in your apartments as may seem most agreeable to you. A carriage waits your orders, and Ali and Myrtho will accompany you whithersoever you desire to go. There is but one favor I would entreat of you." 
"Speak." 
"Guard carefully the secret of your birth. Make no allusion to the past; nor upon any occasion be induced to pronounce the names of your illustrious father or ill-fated mother." 
"I have already told you, my lord, that I shall see no one." 
"It is possible, Haidée, that so perfect a seclusion, though conformable with the habits and customs of the East, may not be practicable in Paris. Endeavor, then, to accustom yourself to our manner of living in these northern climes as you did to those of Rome, Florence, Milan, and Madrid; it may be useful to you one of these days, whether you remain here or return to the East." The young girl raised her tearful eyes towards Monte Cristo as she said with touching earnestness, "Whether we return to the East, you mean to say, my lord, do you not?" 
"My child," returned Monte Cristo "you know full well that whenever we part, it will be no fault or wish of mine; the tree forsakes not the flower--the flower falls from the tree." 
"My lord," replied Haidée, "I never will leave you, for I am sure I could not exist without you." 
"My poor girl, in ten years I shall be old, and you will be still young." 
"My father had a long white beard, but I loved him; he was sixty years old, but to me he was handsomer than all the fine youths I saw." 
"Then tell me, Haidée, do you believe you shall be able to accustom yourself to our present mode of life?" 
"Shall I see you?" 
"Every day." 
"Then what do you fear, my lord?" 
"You might find it dull." 
"No, my lord. In the morning, I shall rejoice in the prospect of your coming, and in the evening dwell with delight on the happiness I have enjoyed in your presence; then too, when alone, I can call forth mighty pictures of the past, see vast horizons bounded only by the towering mountains of Pindus and Olympus. Oh, believe me, that when three great passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude fill the heart, ennui can find no place." 
"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Haidée, and your charming and poetical ideas prove well your descent from that race of goddesses who claim your country as their birthplace. Depend on my care to see that your youth is not blighted, or suffered to pass away in ungenial solitude; and of this be well assured, that if you love me as a father, I love you as a child." 
"You are wrong, my lord. The love I have for you is very different from the love I had for my father. My father died, but I did not die. If you were to die, I should die too." The Count, with a smile of profound tenderness, extended his hand, and she carried it to her lips. Monte Cristo, thus attuned to the interview he proposed to hold with Morrel and his family, departed, murmuring as he went these lines of Pindar, "Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather and call it his own." The carriage was prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into it, the count drove off at his usual rapid pace.  
读者一定还记得基督山伯爵那几位住在密斯雷路的新——或说得更确切些，是老——相识吧。莫雷尔、尤莉和艾曼纽。一想到他就要去作一次愉快的访问，一想到将要度过的幸福时光，期待着一束从天堂里射来的光照进他自动陷入的地狱里来，从维尔福走出他的视线时起，他的脸上就露出一种最动人的快乐的表情。阿里听到锣声就赶快跑来了，看到他的脸上闪烁着这样稀有的欢喜的光彩，便又蹑手蹑脚，屏息静气地退了出去，象是生怕惊走了那徘徊在他主人身旁的愉快的念头似的。 
此时正值中午，基督山抽出一个钟头的时间来和海黛一起消磨时光。那个郁闷了这么久的灵魂似乎无法一下子享受快乐，所以在接触柔情蜜意之前，必须先作一番准备，正如别人在接触强烈的喜怒哀乐之前得作一番准备一样。我们前面已经说过，那是年轻的希腊美人所住的房间和伯爵的房间是完全隔离开的。那几个房间一律是东方式的布置。也就是说，地板上铺着土耳其产的最昂贵的地毯，墙壁上挂着花色美丽和质地优良的锦丝缎，每一个房间的四壁都装着极奢华的靠背长椅，椅子上放着又松又软，可以随意安排的椅垫。海黛手下有四个女佣人——三个法国人和一个希腊人。那三个法国女人总是呆在一间小小的候见室里，只要听到小金铃一响，就立刻进去侍候，或是由那个希腊女奴从里面传话出来，希腊女奴略懂一点法语，足以向另外三个侍女转达她女主人的命令，基督山吩咐过那三个法国侍女，她们对待海黛必须极其恭谨尊敬，要象侍奉一位王后一样。 
那年轻姑娘此时正在她的内室里。那是一间类似妇女休息室的房间，圆形的，天花板由玫瑰色的玻璃嵌成，灯光由天花板上下来，她这时正斜靠在带银点儿的蓝绸椅垫上，头枕着身后的椅背，一只手托着头，另外那只优美的手臂则扶着一支含在嘴里的长烟筒，这支长烟筒极其名贵，烟管是珊瑚做的，从这支富于弹性的烟管里，升起了一片充满最美妙的花香的烟雾。她的姿态在一个东方人眼里虽然显得很自然，但在一个法国女人看来，却未免风骚了一点。她穿着伊皮鲁斯［伊皮鲁斯是古希腊的一个地方。——译注］女子的服装，下身穿一条白底子绣粉红色玫瑰花的绸裤，露出了两只小巧玲珑的脚，要不是这两只脚在玩弄那一双嵌金银珠的小拖鞋，也许会被人误认是用大理石雕成的哩；她上身穿一件蓝白条子的短衫，袖口很宽大，用银线滚边，珍珠作纽扣；短衫外面套一件背心，前面有一处心形的缺口，露出了那象牙般的脖颈和胸脯的上部，下端用三颗钻石纽扣锁住。背心和裤子的连接处被一条五颜六色的腰带完全盖了起来，其灿烂的色彩和华丽的丝穗在巴黎美人的眼里，一定觉得非常宝贵的。她的头上一边戴着一顶绣金镶珠的小帽，一边插着一朵紫色的玫瑰花，一头浓密的头发，黑里透蓝。那张脸上的美纯粹是专属于希腊人的，一双又大又黑的水汪汪的眼睛，笔直的鼻长，珊瑚似的嘴唇，珍珠般的牙齿，这都是她那种民族所特有的。而锦上添花的是海黛正当青春妙龄，她只有十九、二十岁。 
基督山把那个希腊侍女叫出来，吩咐她去问一声她的女主人愿不愿意见他。海黛的答复只是示意叫她的仆人撩开那挂在她闺房门前的花毡门帘，这一道防线打开之后，就呈现出一幅美妙的少女斜卧图来。当基督山走过去的时候，她用那只执长烟筒的手肘撑住身子，把另一只手伸给了他，带着一个销魂的甜蜜的微笑，用雅典和斯巴达女子所说的那种音节明快的语言说道：“你进来以前干嘛非要问问可不可以呢？难道你不再是我的主人，我也不再是你的奴隶了吗？” 
基督山回报了她一个微笑。“海黛，”他说道，“你知道” 
“你称呼我时为什么这样冷淡？”那希腊美人问道。“我有什么地方使你不高兴了吗？要是这样，随便你怎么责罚我好了，但不要这么规规矩矩地对我说话！” 
“海黛，”伯爵答道，“你知道我们现在是在法国，所以你已经自由了！” 
“自由！”年轻姑娘把那两个字念道了两遍，“自由干吗？” 
“自由就可以离开我呀。” 
“离开你！为什么我要离开你呢？” 
“那就不该由我来说了，但现在我们就快要混到社交界去了，就要去见见世面了。” 
“我谁也不想见。” 
“不，你听我说海黛。在这个繁华的都市里，你可不能老是这样隐居着，假如你遇到了一个心爱的人，别以为我会那么自私自利和不明事理，竟会” 
“我从没见过比你更漂亮的男人，我只爱你和我的父亲。” 
“可怜的孩子！”基督山说道，“那是因为除了你的父亲和我之外，你根本没跟什么别的人说过话。。” 
“好吧！我何必要跟别人去说话呢？我父亲把我叫做他的心肝，而你把我叫做你的爱人，你们都把我叫做你们的孩子！” 
“你还记得你的父亲吗，海黛？” 
那希腊少女微笑了一下。“他在这儿和这儿，”她一边说，一边指了指她的眼睛和她的心。 
“那么我在哪儿呢？”基督山笑着问道。 
“你吗？”她大声说道，“到处都有你！” 
基督山拿起这年轻姑娘的纤纤玉手，正要把它举到他的唇边，那心地单纯的孩子却急忙把手抽了回去，而把她那娇嫩的脸颊凑了上来。“你现在要懂得，海黛，”伯爵说道，“从现在起，你是绝对的自由了，你是主妇，是女王。你可以自由放弃或保持你故乡的习俗，随你喜欢怎么去做都行，你愿意在这儿呆就在这儿，愿意出去就出去，有一辆马车永远等在那儿听你的吩咐，不管你要到哪儿去阿里和梅多都可以陪你去。我只请你答应我一件事。” 
“噢，说吧！” 
“关于你的出身，一定要严守秘密。对谁也不要提过去的事情，在任何情形之下，都不要宣布你那威名显赫的父亲或你那可怜的妈妈的名字！” 
“我已经告诉过你啦，老爷，我不愿意见任何人。” 
“海黛，这样完美的一种隐居生活虽然很符合东方的风俗习惯，但在巴黎，会行不通的。所以，你得竭力使自己习惯这种北方的生活习惯，正如你以前在罗马、佛罗伦萨、梅朗和马德里一样，不论你留在这儿或回到东方去，将来总有一天，这也许会有用的。” 
年轻姑娘抬起那双含泪的眼睛望着基督山，以一种伤心真挚的口吻说道：“不论‘我’回不回东方，你的意思是，你不回去了吗，老爷？” 
“我的孩子，”基督山答道，“你知道得很清楚，假如我们必须分手的话，那决不是出于我的本意。树是不愿意离开花的，是花离开了树。” 
“老爷，”海黛答道，“我决不愿意离开你，因为我知道，没有了你，我决不再能再活下去的。” 
“可怜的孩子！十年以后，我就会老的，而你却依旧很年轻。” 
“我的父亲活到了六十岁，他的头发已经斑白，可是我对于他的崇拜和爱，远甚于对所有那些我在他的宫廷里所看到的活泼漂亮的青年呀。” 
“那么告诉我，海黛，你相信你能过得惯我们现在的这种生活吗？” 
“我能见到你吗？” 
“每天都能见到。” 
“嗯，那么，你何必还要问我呢，我的主人？” 
“我怕你会感到孤独的。” 
“不，老爷，因为在早晨，我等着你的到来，在晚上，我可以回想你和我在一起时的情形，此外，当我孤独的时候，我又有美丽的往事可以回忆。我好象又看到了广大的平原和遥远的地平线，以及地平线上的宾特斯山和奥林匹斯山，那时，我的心里就会有三种情感，悲伤，感激和爱，决不会再感到什么无聊的。” 
“你真不愧是伊皮鲁斯的子孙，海黛，你这种富于诗意的可爱的念头充分证明你是神族［指希腊神话里的神。——译注］的后代，你放心吧，我一定注意照料你，不让你的青春受到摧残，不让它在阴森孤独中虚度过去，因为假如你爱我如父，我也一定爱你如女。” 
“老爷不要误会，我对你的爱和对我父亲的感情是大不相同的。他死了以后，我还能继续活下去但要是你遇到了什么灾祸，那我听到噩耗的那一刻，也就是我死的时候到了。” 
伯爵带着难以形容的柔情把他的手伸给了那兴奋的少女，后者虔敬而亲热地把手捧到她的嘴边。基督山的大脑经过这一番抚慰之后，已适宜于去拜访莫雷尔家人了，他一边走，一边轻轻地背诵出品达［品达（公元前五二一—四四一），希腊的抒情诗人。——译注］的几句诗句：“青春是一朵花，它为结出爱情的果实。你看着它渐渐地成熟，将它采下，你这采摘者啊，是多么的幸福。”此时马车已遵命准备好了，伯爵轻轻地跨进车厢里，车子便立刻疾驰而去。 
Chapter 50 The Morrel Family
 IN A VERY few minutes the count reached No. 7 in the Rue Meslay. The house was of white stone, and in a small court before it were two small beds full of beautiful flowers. In the concièrge that opened the gate the count recognized Coclès; but as he had but one eye, and that eye had become somewhat dim in the course of nine years, Coclès did not recognize the count. The carriages that drove up to the door were compelled to turn, to avoid a fountain that played in a basin of rockwork,--an ornament that had excited the jealousy of the whole quarter, and had gained for the place the appellation of "The Little Versailles." 
It is needless to add that there were gold and silver fish in the basin. The house, with kitchens and cellars below, had above the ground-floor, two stories and attics. The whole of the property, consisting of an immense workshop, two pavilions at the bottom of the garden, and the garden itself, had been purchased by Emmanuel, who had seen at a glance that he could make of it a profitable speculation. He had reserved the house and half the garden, and building a wall between the garden and the workshops, had let them upon lease with the pavilions at the bottom of the garden. So that for a trifling sum he was as well lodged, and as perfectly shut out from observation, as the inhabitants of the finest mansion in the Faubourg St. Germain. The breakfast-room was finished in oak; the salon in mahogany, and the furnishings were of blue velvet; the bedroom was in citronwood and green damask. There was a study for Emmanuel, who never studied, and a music-room for Julie, who never played. The whole of the second story was set apart for Maximilian; it was precisely similar to his sister's apartments, except that for the breakfast-parlor he had a billiard-room, where he received his friends. He was superintending the grooming of his horse, and smoking his cigar at the entrance of the garden, when the count's carriage stopped at the gate. 
Coclès opened the gate, and Baptistin, springing from the box, inquired whether Monsieur and Madame Herbault and Monsieur Maximilian Morrel would see his excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" cried Morrel, throwing away his cigar and hastening to the carriage; "I should think we would see him. Ah, a thousand thanks, count, for not having forgotten your promise." And the young officer shook the count's hand so warmly, that Monte Cristo could not be mistaken as to the sincerity of his joy, and he saw that he had been expected with impatience, and was received with pleasure. "Come, come," said Maximilian, "I will serve as your guide; such a man as you are ought not to be introduced by a servant. My sister is in the garden plucking the dead roses; my brother is reading his two papers, the Presse and the Débats, within six steps of her; for wherever you see Madame Herbault, you have only to look within a circle of four yards and you will find M. Emmanuel, and 'reciprocally,' as they say at the Polytechnic School." 
At the sound of their steps a young woman of twenty to five and twenty, dressed in a silk morning gown, and busily engaged in plucking the dead leaves off a noisette rose-tree, raised her head. This was Julie, who had become, as the clerk of the house of Thomson & French had predicted, Madame Emmanuel Herbault. She uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of a stranger, and Maximilian began to laugh. "Don't disturb yourself, Julie," said he. "The count has only been two or three days in Paris, but he already knows what a fashionable woman of the Marais is, and if he does not, you will show him." 
"Ah, monsieur," returned Julie, "it is treason in my brother to bring you thus, but he never has any regard for his poor sister. Penelon, Penelon!" An old man, who was digging busily at one of the beds, stuck his spade in the earth, and approached, cap in hand, striving to conceal a quid of tobacco he had just thrust into his cheek. A few locks of gray mingled with his hair, which was still thick and matted, while his bronzed features and determined glance well suited an old sailor who had braved the heat of the equator and the storms of the tropics. "I think you hailed me, Mademoiselle Julie?" said he. Penelon had still preserved the habit of calling his master's daughter "Mademoiselle Julie," and had never been able to change the name to Madame Herbault. "Penelon," replied Julie, "go and inform M. Emmanuel of this gentleman's visit, and Maximilian will conduct him to the salon." Then, turning to Monte Cristo,--"I hope you will permit me to leave you for a few minutes," continued she; and without awaiting any reply, disappeared behind a clump of trees, and escaped to the house by a lateral alley. 
"I am sorry to see," observed Monte Cristo to Morrel, "that I cause no small disturbance in your house." 
"Look there," said Maximilian, laughing; "there is her husband changing his jacket for a coat. I assure you, you are well known in the Rue Meslay." 
"Your family appears to be a very happy one," said the count, as if speaking to himself. 
"Oh, yes, I assure you, count, they want nothing that can render them happy; they are young and cheerful, they are tenderly attached to each other, and with twenty-five thousand francs a year they fancy themselves as rich as Rothschild." 
"Five and twenty thousand francs is not a large sum, however," replied Monte Cristo, with a tone so sweet and gentle, that it went to Maximilian's heart like the voice of a father; "but they will not be content with that. Your brother-in-law is a barrister? a doctor?" 
"He was a merchant, monsieur, and had succeeded to the business of my poor father. M. Morrel, at his death, left 500,000 francs, which were divided between my sister and myself, for we were his only children. Her husband, who, when he married her, had no other patrimony than his noble probity, his first-rate ability, and his spotless reputation, wished to possess as much as his wife. He labored and toiled until he had amassed 250,000 francs; six years sufficed to achieve this object. Oh, I assure you, sir, it was a touching spectacle to see these young creatures, destined by their talents for higher stations, toiling together, and through their unwillingness to change any of the customs of their paternal house, taking six years to accomplish what less scrupulous people would have effected in two or three. Marseilles resounded with their well-earned praises. At last, one day, Emmanuel came to his wife, who had just finished making up the accounts. 'Julie,' said he to her, 'Coclès has just given me the last rouleau of a hundred francs; that completes the 250,000 francs we had fixed as the limits of our gains. Can you content yourself with the small fortune which we shall possess for the future? Listen to me. Our house transacts business to the amount of a million a year, from which we derive an income of 40,000 francs. We can dispose of the business, if we please, in an hour, for I have received a letter from M. Delaunay, in which he offers to purchase the good-will of the house, to unite with his own, for 300,000 francs. Advise me what I had better do.'--'Emmanuel,' returned my sister, 'the house of Morrel can only be carried on by a Morrel. Is it not worth 300,000 francs to save our father's name from the chances of evil fortune and failure?'--'I thought so,' replied Emmanuel; 'but I wished to have your advice.'--'This is my counsel:--Our accounts are made up and our bills paid; all we have to do is to stop the issue of any more, and close our office.' This was done instantly. It was three o'clock; at a quarter past, a merchant presented himself to insure two ships; it was a clear profit of 15,000 francs. 'Monsieur,' said Emmanuel, 'have the goodness to address yourself to M. Delaunay. We have quitted business.'--'How long?' inquired the astonished merchant. 'A quarter of an hour,' was the reply. And this is the reason, monsieur," continued Maximilian, "of my sister and brother-in-law having only 25,000 francs a year." 
Maximilian had scarcely finished his story, during which the count's heart had swelled within him, when Emmanuel entered wearing a hat and coat. He saluted the count with the air of a man who is aware of the rank of his guest; then, after having led Monte Cristo around the little garden, he returned to the house. A large vase of Japan porcelain, filled with flowers that loaded the air with their perfume, stood in the salon. Julie, suitably dressed, and her hair arranged (she had accomplished this feat in less than ten minutes), received the count on his entrance. The songs of the birds were heard in an aviary hard by, and the branches of laburnums and rose acacias formed an exquisite framework to the blue velvet curtains. Everything in this charming retreat, from the warble of the birds to the smile of the mistress, breathed tranquillity and repose. The count had felt the influence of this happiness from the moment he entered the house, and he remained silent and pensive, forgetting that he was expected to renew the conversation, which had ceased after the first salutations had been exchanged. The silence became almost painful when, by a violent effort, tearing himself from his pleasing reverie--"Madame," said he at length, "I pray you to excuse my emotion, which must astonish you who are only accustomed to the happiness I meet here; but contentment is so new a sight to me, that I could never be weary of looking at yourself and your husband." 
"We are very happy, monsieur," replied Julie; "but we have also known unhappiness, and few have ever undergone more bitter sufferings than ourselves." The Count's features displayed an expression of the most intense curiosity. 
"Oh, all this is a family history, as Chateau-Renaud told you the other day," observed Maximilian. "This humble picture would have but little interest for you, accustomed as you are to behold the pleasures and the misfortunes of the wealthy and industrious; but such as we are, we have experienced bitter sorrows." 
"And God has poured balm into your wounds, as he does into those of all who are in affliction?" said Monte Cristo inquiringly. 
"Yes, count," returned Julie, "we may indeed say he has, for he has done for us what he grants only to his chosen; he sent us one of his angels." The count's cheeks became scarlet, and he coughed, in order to have an excuse for putting his handkerchief to his mouth. "Those born to wealth, and who have the means of gratifying every wish," said Emmanuel, "know not what is the real happiness of life, just as those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the blessings of fair weather." 
Monte Cristo rose, and without making any answer (for the tremulousness of his voice would have betrayed his emotion) walked up and down the apartment with a slow step. 
"Our magnificence makes you smile, count," said Maximilian, who had followed him with his eyes. "No, no," returned Monte Cristo, pale as death, pressing one hand on his heart to still its throbbings, while with the other he pointed to a crystal cover, beneath which a silken purse lay on a black velvet cushion. "I was wondering what could be the significance of this purse, with the paper at one end and the large diamond at the other." 
"Count," replied Maximilian, with an air of gravity, "those are our most precious family treasures." 
"The stone seems very brilliant," answered the count. 
"Oh, my brother does not allude to its value, although it has been estimated at 100,000 francs; he means, that the articles contained in this purse are the relics of the angel I spoke of just now." 
"This I do not comprehend; and yet I may not ask for an explanation, madame," replied Monte Cristo bowing. "Pardon me, I had no intention of committing an indiscretion." 
"Indiscretion,--oh, you make us happy by giving us an excuse for expatiating on this subject. If we wanted to conceal the noble action this purse commemorates, we should not expose it thus to view. Oh, would we could relate it everywhere, and to every one, so that the emotion of our unknown benefactor might reveal his presence." 
"Ah, really," said Monte Cristo in a half-stifled voice. 
"Monsieur," returned Maximilian, raising the glass cover, and respectfully kissing the silken purse, "this has touched the hand of a man who saved my father from suicide, us from ruin, and our name from shame and disgrace,--a man by whose matchless benevolence we poor children, doomed to want and wretchedness, can at present hear every one envying our happy lot. This letter" (as he spoke, Maximilian drew a letter from the purse and gave it to the count)--"this letter was written by him the day that my father had taken a desperate resolution, and this diamond was given by the generous unknown to my sister as her dowry." Monte Cristo opened the letter, and read it with an indescribable feeling of delight. It was the letter written (as our readers know) to Julie, and signed "Sinbad the Sailor." "Unknown you say, is the man who rendered you this service--unknown to you?" 
"Yes; we have never had the happiness of pressing his hand," continued Maximilian. "We have supplicated heaven in vain to grant us this favor, but the whole affair has had a mysterious meaning that we cannot comprehend--we have been guided by an invisible hand,--a hand as powerful as that of an enchanter." 
"Oh," cried Julie, "I have not lost all hope of some day kissing that hand, as I now kiss the purse which he has touched. Four years ago, Penelon was at Trieste--Penelon, count, is the old sailor you saw in the garden, and who, from quartermaster, has become gardener--Penelon, when he was at Trieste, saw on the quay an Englishman, who was on the point of embarking on board a yacht, and he recognized him as the person who called on my father the fifth of June, 1829, and who wrote me this letter on the fifth of September. He felt convinced of his identity, but he did not venture to address him." 
"An Englishman," said Monte Cristo, who grew uneasy at the attention with which Julie looked at him. "An Englishman you say?" 
"Yes," replied Maximilian, "an Englishman, who represented himself as the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French, at Rome. It was this that made me start when you said the other day, at M. de Morcerf's, that Messrs. Thomson & French were your bankers. That happened, as I told you, in 1829. For God's sake, tell me, did you know this Englishman?" 
"But you tell me, also, that the house of Thomson & French have constantly denied having rendered you this service?" 
"Yes." 
"Then is it not probable that this Englishman may be some one who, grateful for a kindness your father had shown him, and which he himself had forgotten, has taken this method of requiting the obligation?" 
"Everything is possible in this affair, even a miracle." 
"What was his name?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"He gave no other name," answered Julie, looking earnestly at the count, "than that at the end of his letter--'Sinbad the Sailor.'" 
"Which is evidently not his real name, but a fictitious one." 
Then, noticing that Julie was struck with the sound of his voice,-- "Tell me," continued he, "was he not about my height, perhaps a little taller, with his chin imprisoned, as it were, in a high cravat; his coat closely buttoned up, and constantly taking out his pencil?" 
"Oh, do you then know him?" cried Julie, whose eyes sparkled with joy. 
"No," returned Monte Cristo "I only guessed. I knew a Lord Wilmore, who was constantly doing actions of this kind." 
"Without revealing himself?" 
"He was an eccentric being, and did not believe in the existence of gratitude." 
"Oh, heaven," exclaimed Julie, clasping her hands, "in what did he believe, then?" 
"He did not credit it at the period which I knew him," said Monte Cristo, touched to the heart by the accents of Julie's voice; "but, perhaps, since then he has had proofs that gratitude does exist." 
"And do you know this gentleman, monsieur?" inquired Emmanuel. 
"Oh, if you do know him," cried Julie, "can you tell us where he is--where we can find him? Maximilian--Emmanuel--if we do but discover him, he must believe in the gratitude of the heart!" Monte Cristo felt tears start into his eyes, and he again walked hastily up and down the room. 
"In the name of heaven," said Maximilian, "if you know anything of him, tell us what it is." 
"Alas," cried Monte Cristo, striving to repress his emotion, "if Lord Wilmore was your unknown benefactor, I fear you will never see him again. I parted from him two years ago at Palermo, and he was then on the point of setting out for the most remote regions; so that I fear he will never return." 
"Oh, monsieur, this is cruel of you," said Julie, much affected; and the young lady's eyes swam with tears. 
"Madame," replied Monte Cristo gravely, and gazing earnestly on the two liquid pearls that trickled down Julie's cheeks, "had Lord Wilmore seen what I now see, he would become attached to life, for the tears you shed would reconcile him to mankind;" and he held out his hand to Julie, who gave him hers, carried away by the look and accent of the count. "But," continued she, "Lord Wilmore had a family or friends, he must have known some one, can we not--" 
"Oh, it is useless to inquire," returned the count; "perhaps, after all, he was not the man you seek for. He was my friend: he had no secrets from me, and if this had been so he would have confided in me." 
"And he told you nothing?" 
"Not a word." 
"Nothing that would lead you to suppose?" 
"Nothing." 
"And yet you spoke of him at once." 
"Ah, in such a case one supposes"-- 
"Sister, sister," said Maximilian, coming to the count's aid, "monsieur is quite right. Recollect what our excellent father so often told us, 'It was no Englishman that thus saved us.'" Monte Cristo started. "What did your father tell you, M. Morrel?" said he eagerly. 
"My father thought that this action had been miraculously performed--he believed that a benefactor had arisen from the grave to save us. Oh, it was a touching superstition, monsieur, and although I did not myself believe it, I would not for the world have destroyed my father's faith. How often did he muse over it and pronounce the name of a dear friend--a friend lost to him forever; and on his death-bed, when the near approach of eternity seemed to have illumined his mind with supernatural light, this thought, which had until then been but a doubt, became a conviction, and his last words were, 'Maximilian, it was Edmond Dantès!'" At these words the count's paleness, which had for some time been increasing, became alarming; he could not speak; he looked at his watch like a man who has forgotten the hour, said a few hurried words to Madame Herbault, and pressing the hands of Emmanuel and Maximilian,--"Madame," said he, "I trust you will allow me to visit you occasionally; I value your friendship, and feel grateful to you for your welcome, for this is the first time for many years that I have thus yielded to my feelings;" and he hastily quitted the apartment. 
"This Count of Monte Cristo is a strange man," said Emmanuel. 
"Yes," answered Maximilian, "but I feel sure he has an excellent heart, and that he likes us." 
"His voice went to my heart," observed Julie; "and two or three times I fancied that I had heard it before."  
几分钟之后，伯爵便到了密斯雷路七号。这是座白石砌成的房子，在房子前面的一个小庭院里，有两个小花坛，里面开满了美丽的花。伯爵认出了来开门的门房是柯克莱斯，但由于他只有一只眼睛，而且那只眼睛在九年的时间里已衰弱了许多，所以他没有认出伯爵来。马车驶到门口去的时候，必须经过一个转弯，绕过一座石块砌成的喷水池，池子里悠闲地游着许多金色和银色的鱼。这一点缀引起了全区人的嫉妒，给这座房子挣得了“小凡尔赛宫”的称号。这房子是一座三层楼的建筑物，下面有厨房和地窖，上面有阁楼。全部房产包括一个极大的工场，一个花园和花园中的两幢楼房，艾曼纽买下它来的时候一眼就看出这是一笔很有利的投机生意。他留用了正房和花园的一半，在花园和工场之间筑起了一道墙，连花园底上的两座楼房一起租了出去，所以他只花了很少的一笔钱，却住得舒舒服服，象圣·日尔曼村里一位最讲究的主人一样得到了一座独门独户的大住宅。餐厅里全是一色的橡木家具，客厅里是桃花心木家具和蓝天鹅绒窗帷，卧室里是香椽木和绿缎子。艾曼纽有一间书房，但他从不读书，尤莉有一间音乐室，但她从不摆弄乐器。三楼全部归马西米兰使用，这一层楼上的房间完全和他妹妹的一样，只是餐厅变成了一间弹子房，这也是他接待朋友的地方。当伯爵的马车在门口停下来的时候，他正嘴里咬着雪茄，在花园的入口处监督洗刷他的马。 
柯克莱斯打开门，巴浦斯汀从车夫的座位上跳下来，上前询问赫伯特先生夫妇和马西米兰·莫雷尔先生愿不愿意接见基督山伯爵阁下。 
“基督山伯爵阁下？”莫雷尔大喊了一声，抛掉了他的雪茄烟，急忙向马车奔过来。“我们当然愿意见他的啦！啊！伯爵阁下，多谢您没有忘记您的诺言。”于是那青年军官非常热情地同伯爵握手，使后者毫不怀疑他是出于一种真挚的表示，他看到对方早已在期待他，而且很高兴接待他。 
  
  
“来，来！”马西米兰说道，“我来当您的向导，象您这样的人是不应该由仆人来介绍的。我妹妹在花园里摘玫瑰树上的枯叶，我妹夫正读他的两份报纸，《新闻报》和《议论报》，离她五步之内，因为不论您在哪儿看到赫伯特夫人，只要在几步远的小圈里望一眼，便可以找到艾曼纽先生，而且这种情形正如科学大全上所说的那样，是‘相互的’。”听到他们的脚步声，一个身穿丝绸便服，正忙碌地在那棵绚丽的玫瑰树上摘枯叶的年轻女子抬起头来。这个女子正是尤莉，她，正如汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的那位首席代表所预言的，已变成了艾曼纽·赫伯特夫人。她看到来了一位陌生人，就发出了一声惊异的喊叫，而马西米兰却大笑起来。“这没什么，裘丽，”他说道，“伯爵阁下虽然到巴黎才只有两三天，但他已经知道一个时髦女郎是什么样子的了，要是他还不知道，那么你就是一个榜样。” 
“啊，阁下！”尤莉回答说，“我的哥哥把您就这样带进来真是太胡闹了，他是从来不为他可怜的妹妹考虑的。庇尼龙！庇尼龙！” 
一个正在玫瑰花丛中忙于翻地的老头把他的铲子往泥土里一插，拿起帽子走了过来，一边走，一边极力想掩饰刚才扔进嘴里的那块烟草。他的头发依然是那么厚密，那么蓬蓬松松地缠结在一起。只是其中有几丛已变成了灰色，他那被太阳晒成紫铜色的脸和那坚毅的目光证明这老水手曾经历过赤道的酷热和回归线上的风暴。“我好象听到你在叫我，尤莉小姐？” 
他说道，庇尼龙依旧改不掉他的老习惯，对其船主的女儿称“尤莉小姐”，再也改不过口来叫赫伯特夫人。 
“庇尼龙，”尤莉说道“快去通知艾曼纽先生，说这位先生来拜访我们了，马西米兰自会领他到客厅里去的。”然后，她转过身来对基督山说道，“希重您能允许我告辞一会儿。”于是也不等回答，就绕到一丛树后面，从一条侧径走进了屋里。“真是非常抱歉，”基督山对莫雷尔说道，“我看我的到来给府上引起了不小的麻烦呀。” 
“瞧吧，”马西米兰大笑着说道，“她的丈夫正在那儿脱下短褂换上装呢。我向您担保，您已经在密斯雷路鼎鼎大名的了。” 
“我看府上倒是一个非常幸福的家庭！”伯爵说道，这句话很象是对他自己说的。“噢，是的，我可以向您保证，他们的确是幸福得没法说了。他们都很年轻，很乐观，你恋着我，我恋着你，每年还有两万五千里弗的收入，因此就自以为象罗斯希尔德一样的富有了。” 
“两万五千里弗这个数目可并不算大，”基督山说道，语气非常甜蜜温和，象是一位慈父的声音直钻进马西米兰的心坎里，“但他们是不会以此自满的。您的妹夫是一个律师还是一个医生？” 
“他是一个商人，伯爵阁下，他继承了我那可怜的父亲的事业，莫雷尔先生去世的时候遗留下五千万法郎，这笔钱分给了我妹妹和我，因为他只有我们这两个儿女。她的丈夫和她结婚的时候，除了他那正直高尚的品格，那一流的才干，和那清白无瑕的名誉之外，他可不象他的太太那样有什么世袭的财产可指望。但他希望自己能有他妻子那样多的财产，于是他克勤克俭地埋头苦干，直到积满了二十五万法郎，那是用了六年功夫才实现的。噢，伯爵阁下，说真心话，看着这些才能高超肯定会飞黄腾达的青年人辛辛苦苦地在一起工作，不愿意丝毫改变祖传老店的旧规矩，为了六年的时间才取得那些新潮人物在两三年内就可以取得的业绩，这种情形真使人感动。马赛直到现在还洋溢着对他们的赞许之声，而这种赞许也是他们应该得到的。后来，有一天，尤莉刚结完账，艾曼纽过来对她说，’尤莉，柯克莱斯刚才把最后那一百法郎交给了我，我们预定要赚的二十五万法郎已齐了。我们将来就守着这笔小小的财产生活你满意吗？听我说，我们的公司每年要做一百万的生意，我们可以从中获得四万法郎的收益。假如我们愿意的话，我们在一小时之内就可以把生意转让出去，因为我收到了狄劳耐先生的一封信，他说他愿意出三十万法郎买下这家公司的商业信誉，从而把他的名字和我们的联在一起。你说我该怎么办才好。’‘艾曼纽，’我妹妹回答说，‘莫雷尔公司只能由莫雷尔家里的人来经管。用三十万法郎来补救我父亲的名誉不是很值得的吗？’‘我也是这样想，’艾曼纽答道，‘但我希望听听你的忠告。’‘我的意见是这样的：我们的业务往来账目都已经结清了，我们现在只要停止放账，结束业务就行了。’这事立刻就办到了。一刻钟以后，一位商人来要求为两条船投保险。 
这笔生意很明显可以有一万五千法郎的赚头。‘先生，’艾曼纽说道，‘请你费神直接去和狄劳耐先生谈吧。我们已经停业了。’是多久的事？‘那商人惊奇地问道。回答是，‘一刻钟以前。’而就是为了这个理由，阁下，”马西米兰继续说道，“我的妹妹和妹夫才每年只有两万五千里弗的收入。” 
马西米兰讲这个故事的时候，伯爵的心似乎要爆裂开来，他刚一讲完，艾曼纽就进来了，这时他已戴上了一顶帽子，穿好了上装。他向伯爵恭敬地致敬，表示他很清楚来客的身份，然后他领基督山在小花园里兜了一圈，才回到屋里。客厅里放着一只日本出品的大瓷花瓶，瓶里插满了花，使空气里充满了花香。尤莉已站在门口迎接伯爵了，她的衣服穿得很合体，头发梳得很俏丽（这件大事她是在十分钟之内完成的）。附近的一间鸟舍里传来了鸟的歌声。鸟舍是由假乌木和刺槐树的丫枝搭成的，外面围着蓝天鹅绒的帷幕。在这所可爱的幽居里，万事万物，从鸟儿们宛转的歌声到女主人的微笑，都使人有一种宁静安谧的感觉。伯爵一进这座房子就感染到了这种幸福的气氛。他开始客套地说了几句以后，就一直默默地现出若有所思的样子，竟一时忘记了人家正在等他开始谈话。当他一觉察到这种停顿之后，就竭力把自己从这种沉思状态中摆脱出来。“夫人，”他终于说道，“请原谅我这么激动，你们一定会觉得很奇怪，因为你们已享受惯了我在这儿所遇到的这种幸福，但对我来说，你们这种幸福的神情是如此的罕见，以至于使我无法把目光从你们身上移开了。” 
“我们实在是非常幸福的，阁下，”尤莉答道，“但我们也遭遇过不幸，世界上很少有人比我们受过更大的痛苦。” 
伯爵的脸上现出了一种好奇的表情。 
“噢，正如那天夏多·勒诺所告诉您的，这一切只是一部家庭历史，”马西米兰说道，“象您这样名利双收，饱经沧桑的人，对于这种琐碎的事情是不会有多大兴趣的，但我们的确有过极悲惨的遭遇。” 
“象上帝对待所有那些受苦的人们一样，他曾把香油注入了你们的伤口吗？”基督山问道。 
“是的，伯爵阁下，”尤莉答道，“我们实在可以说是这样的，因为他对待我们就象对待他的选民一样，他派了一位天使来关照我们。” 
伯爵的两颊变成了深红色，他咳嗽了一声，并用手帕掩住了嘴。 
“那些天生有钱，事事都能如愿的人，”艾曼纽说道，“是不知道人生真正的幸福是什么的，正如只有那些曾抱住几块脆弱的木板，在狂风暴雨的海洋里颠簸过来的人，才能体会到一个晴朗的天空是多么的可贵一样。” 
基督山没有回答，只是站起身来在房间里慢慢地踱来踱去，因为他怕自己那颤抖的声音会泄露他的情绪。 
“我们的夸大使您见笑啦，伯爵阁下。”马西米兰说道，他的目光始终在跟随着伯爵。 
“不，不，”基督山回答说，他的脸色很苍白，一只手按在他狂跳不已的心口上，另一只手则指着一只玻璃罩，玻璃罩下面有一只丝质的钱袋躺在一块黑天鹅绒的垫子上。“我正在想，这只钱袋是做什么用的，它的一端象是绑着一张小纸片，而另一端却有一颗大钻石。” 
“伯爵阁下，”马西米兰带着一种庄严的神气说道，“这是我们最宝贵的传家之宝。” 
“这颗钻石倒非常漂亮。”伯爵答道。 
“噢，曾有人估价它值十万法郎，我哥哥并不是指它的价值，他的意思是说这只钱袋所包含的东西都是我刚才所说的那位天使的纪念品。” 
“这我可就不懂了，但我并不一定要求解释，夫人，”基督山鞠躬答道。“原谅我，我并不是存心要做出失礼的举动的。” 
“失礼！噢，我们很高兴您能给我们这样一个机会来详述这件事情。要是我们想隐讳这只钱袋所代表的那件义举，我们就不会把它这样谈出来啦。噢，我们很愿意到处逢人就讲！这样或许可以感动我们那位无名的恩人，使他早日日露面出来见见我们。” 
“啊，真的！”基督山用一种压低了的声音说道。 
“阁下，”马西米兰揭开玻璃罩，恭恭敬敬地吻了吻那只丝质钱袋，说道。“这只钱袋曾经过一个人的手，而那个人曾救过我父亲，使他不致于自杀，使我们不致于破产，使我们的名誉不致于蒙羞受辱。正是靠着他无比的仁慈，我们这些命中注定该受苦难的孩子，才能有目前这种使人嫉妒的好运。这封信，”（马西米兰一边说着，一面从钱袋里抽出一封信来交给了伯爵）“这封信就是他在我父亲决心自杀的那天写来的。这颗钻石是那位慷慨的无名恩人送给我妹妹作陪嫁的。”基督山打开那封信，以一种无法形容的高兴的心情把它读了一遍。这封信是写给（我们的读者知道）尤莉的，署名是“水手辛巴德。” 
“您说是一个无名恩人，难道你们并不认识那个帮你们忙的人吗？” 
“是呀，我们从没有和他握一下手的运气，”马西米兰又说道。“我们曾恳求上帝赐给我们这个机会，直到如今还是枉然，这件事的来龙去脉很神秘，我们始终无法弄明白，象是冥冥之中有一只魔术师般有力的手在操纵着似的。” 
“噢，”尤莉大声说道，“我倒是还没有完全绝望，也许总有那么一天我会吻到那只手的，就象我现在吻这只他所触过的钱袋一样。四年以前，庇尼龙在的里雅斯特，庇尼龙，伯爵阁下，就是你刚才在花园里见到的那个老水手，他在当园丁以前，本来是一个舵手的。当庇尼龙还在的里雅斯特的时候，他在码头上看到一个英国人正要上一艘游船，而他认出他就在一八二九年六月五日来拜访过我父亲，九月五日又写这封信给我的那个人，他相信自己没认错，但他当时不敢上去跟他讲话。” 
“一个英国人！”基督山说道。他看到尤莉很注意地望着他，就愈来愈感到不安了。“您说是一个英国人吗？” 
“是的，”马西米兰答道，“是一个英国人，他自称是罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的首席代表。所以那天您在马尔塞夫先生家里说您和汤姆生·弗伦奇银行有业务往来，我就吃了一惊。我已经告诉过您，那是一八二九年的事。看在上帝的面上，请告诉我，您认识这个英国人吗？” 
“可您不是也告诉过我，说汤姆生·弗伦奇银行老是否认曾帮过你们这个忙吗？” 
“是的。” 
“那么，说不定这个英国人曾受过令尊的恩惠，他没有忘记，所以采取这种方法来报恩，这不是很可能的吗？” 
“象这类事情，一切都可能的，甚至是一个奇迹也说不定。” 
“他叫什么名字？”基督山问道。 
“他并没说出第二个名字，”尤莉热切地望着伯爵答道，“就只是这封信尾上的——‘水手辛巴德’。” 
“这显然不是他的真名，而是个假名。” 
  
然后，他注意到尤莉对他的口音已显得出惊愕的表情，便又说道：“请告诉我，他的身材是不是和我差不多，或许略微高和瘦一点，脖子上绑一个大领结，密扣紧带，手里老是拿着一支铅笔？” 
“噢，那么说您认识他的了？”尤莉大声说道，她的眼睛里顿时放射出喜悦的光采。 
“不，”基督山答道，“我只是这样猜测。因为我认识一位威玛勋爵，他是常常干这种慷慨的事情的。” 
“那他自己不露面吗？” 
“他是一个怪人，不相信世上有‘感恩’这种东西的存在。” 
“噢，天哪！”尤莉紧握着双手大声说道。“那么他相信什么呢？” 
“我认识他的那个时候他还不相信，”基督山说道，他听了尤莉的语气，心里很受感动。“但也许他后来得到了证据，知道‘感恩’的确是存在的了。” 
“你认识这位先生吗，阁下？”艾曼纽问道。 
“噢，要是您真的认识他，”尤莉大声说道，“您能不能告诉我们他在什么地方？我们可以到哪儿去找到他？马西米兰，艾曼纽！假如我们真的能找到他，他一定会相信人心是知道感恩的！” 
基督山觉得泪水已涌到了他的眼睛里，于是他又急急地在房间里踱来踱去。 
“看在老天爷的份上！”马西米兰说道，“假如您知道他的什么事情，请告诉我们吧。” 
“唉！”基督山极力克制住他的情感说道，“假如你们的那位无名恩人就是威玛勋爵，恐怕你们将永远也见不到他了。两年前我和他在巴勒莫分的手，当时他正要出发到极遥远的地方去，所以怕他是永远不会回来的了。” 
“噢，阁下，您真忍心。”尤莉很感动地说道，她的眼睛里已充满了泪水。 
“夫人，”基督山以真挚的目光凝视着那从尤莉脸上滚下来的两颗流动的珍珠，庄重地说道，“要是威玛勋爵看到了我现在所看到的这番情景，他一定会舍不得抛弃这个世界的，因为您所流的眼泪可以使他和人类言归于好的。”于是他伸手给尤莉，尤莉也伸出了她的手，她已被伯爵的神情和声音吸引得不能自制了。 
“但这位威玛勋爵，”她紧紧地抱住最后一线希望说道，“总有个故乡，有个家和亲戚什么的吧？总之，总有一个人了解他的吧？那么，难道我们不能” 
“噢，别再问了，夫人，”伯爵说道，“别在我的话上建筑渺茫的希望了吧。不，威玛勋爵大概不是您要找的那个人。他是我的朋友，他对我没有什么秘密可隐瞒的，如果有这件事他也不会瞒过我的。” 
“而他竟没有告诉过您什么吗？” 
“没有。” 
“从来没提起过一个字可以使您想到－－” 
“从来没有。” 
“可是您却一提就提出他来。” 
“啊，象这类事情，人们或许会猜测－－” 
“妹妹，妹妹，”马西米兰帮着伯爵说道，“伯爵阁下是很对的。想一想我们的父亲常常对我们说的那句话吧：‘这次来救我们的不是个英国人。’” 
基督山吃了一惊。“令尊对您说什么，莫雷尔先生？”他急切地问道。 
“我父亲认为这件事简直是一件奇迹，他相信那位恩人是从坟墓里爬起来救我们的。噢，这个迷信说来很令人伤心，尽管我自己并不相信，但我也决不愿意破坏父亲的信心。他常常翻来复去地沉思默想这件事，嘴里总念着一位好朋友的名字。那是一位和他永别了的朋友！在他弥留之际，当那永恒之境一步步接近他的时候，他的头脑似乎受到了灵光的启发，而这个念头，本来还只不过是一种怀疑，这时却变成了一种信念，他最后说的话是：‘马西米兰，那个人是爱德蒙·唐太斯！” 
听到这句话，伯爵的脸，本来就已愈来愈苍白，这时就苍白得更惊人了。他一时说不出话来了，象是忘了时间似的看了一下他的表，匆匆地和赫伯特夫人说了几句话，又跟艾曼纽和马西米兰握了握手。“夫人，”他说道，“我相信您会允许我经常来拜访你们的，我很珍重你们的友谊，并感激你们的接待，因为很多年以来，我这样克制不住自己的感情，这还是第一次。” 
说完他便匆匆地离开了房间。 
“这位基督山伯爵真是一个奇人。”艾曼纽说道。 
“是的，”马西米兰答道，“但我觉得他一定有一颗非常仁慈的心，而且他很欢喜我们。” 
“他的声音直钻进我的心坎里，”尤莉说道，“有两三次，我好象觉得以前曾听到过这种口音似的。” 　
Chapter 51 Pyramus and Thisbe
 ABOUT TWO-THIRDS of the way along the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and in the rear of one of the most imposing mansions in this rich neighborhood, where the various houses vie with each other for elegance of design and magnificence of construction, extended a large garden, where the wide-spreading chestnut-trees raised their heads high above the walls in a solid rampart, and with the coming of every spring scattered a shower of delicate pink and white blossoms into the large stone vases that stood upon the two square pilasters of a curiously wrought iron gate, that dated from the time of Louis XII. This noble entrance, however, in spite of its striking appearance and the graceful effect of the geraniums planted in the two vases, as they waved their variegated leaves in the wind and charmed the eye with their scarlet bloom, had fallen into utter disuse. The proprietors of the mansion had many years before thought it best to confine themselves to the possession of the house itself, with its thickly planted court-yard, opening into the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and to the garden shut in by this gate, which formerly communicated with a fine kitchen-garden of about an acre. For the demon of speculation drew a line, or in other words projected a street, at the farther side of the kitchen-garden. The street was laid out, a name was chosen and posted up on an iron plate, but before construction was begun, it occurred to the possessor of the property that a handsome sum might be obtained for the ground then devoted to fruits and vegetables, by building along the line of the proposed street, and so making it a branch of communication with the Faubourg Saint-Honoré itself, one of the most important thoroughfares in the city of Paris. 
In matters of speculation, however, though "man proposes," "money disposes." From some such difficulty the newly named street died almost in birth, and the purchaser of the kitchen-garden, having paid a high price for it, and being quite unable to find any one willing to take his bargain off his hands without a considerable loss, yet still clinging to the belief that at some future day he should obtain a sum for it that would repay him, not only for his past outlay, but also the interest upon the capital locked up in his new acquisition, contented himself with letting the ground temporarily to some market-gardeners, at a yearly rental of 500 francs. And so, as we have said, the iron gate leading into the kitchen-garden had been closed up and left to the rust, which bade fair before long to eat off its hinges, while to prevent the ignoble glances of the diggers and delvers of the ground from presuming to sully the aristocratic enclosure belonging to the mansion, the gate had been boarded up to a height of six feet. True, the planks were not so closely adjusted but that a hasty peep might be obtained through their interstices; but the strict decorum and rigid propriety of the inhabitants of the house left no grounds for apprehending that advantage would be taken of that circumstance. 
Horticulture seemed, however, to have been abandoned in the deserted kitchen-garden; and where cabbages, carrots, radishes, pease, and melons had once flourished, a scanty crop of lucerne alone bore evidence of its being deemed worthy of cultivation. A small, low door gave egress from the walled space we have been describing into the projected street, the ground having been abandoned as unproductive by its various renters, and had now fallen so completely in general estimation as to return not even the one-half per cent it had originally paid. Towards the house the chestnut-trees we have before mentioned rose high above the wall, without in any way affecting the growth of other luxuriant shrubs and flowers that eagerly dressed forward to fill up the vacant spaces, as though asserting their right to enjoy the boon of light and air. At one corner, where the foliage became so thick as almost to shut out day, a large stone bench and sundry rustic seats indicated that this sheltered spot was either in general favor or particular use by some inhabitant of the house, which was faintly discernible through the dense mass of verdure that partially concealed it, though situated but a hundred paces off. 
Whoever had selected this retired portion of the grounds as the boundary of a walk, or as a place for meditation, was abundantly justified in the choice by the absence of all glare, the cool, refreshing shade, the screen it afforded from the scorching rays of the sun, that found no entrance there even during the burning days of hottest summer, the incessant and melodious warbling of birds, and the entire removal from either the noise of the street or the bustle of the mansion. On the evening of one of the warmest days spring had yet bestowed on the inhabitants of Paris, might be seen negligently thrown upon the stone bench, a book, a parasol, and a work-basket, from which hung a partly embroidered cambric handkerchief, while at a little distance from these articles was a young woman, standing close to the iron gate, endeavoring to discern something on the other side by means of the openings in the planks,--the earnestness of her attitude and the fixed gaze with which she seemed to seek the object of her wishes, proving how much her feelings were interested in the matter. At that instant the little side-gate leading from the waste ground to the street was noiselessly opened, and a tall, powerful young man appeared. He was dressed in a common gray blouse and velvet cap, but his carefully arranged hair, beard and mustache, all of the richest and glossiest black, ill accorded with his plebeian attire. After casting a rapid glance around him, in order to assure himself that he was unobserved, he entered by the small gate, and, carefully closing and securing it after him, proceeded with a hurried step towards the barrier. 
At the sight of him she expected, though probably not in such a costume, the young woman started in terror, and was about to make a hasty retreat. But the eye of love had already seen, even through the narrow chinks of the wooden palisades, the movement of the white robe, and observed the fluttering of the blue sash. Pressing his lips close to the planks, he exclaimed, "Don't be alarmed, Valentine--it is I!" Again the timid girl found courage to return to the gate, saying, as she did so, "And why do you come so late to-day? It is almost dinner-time, and I had to use no little diplomacy to get rid of my watchful mother-in-law, my too-devoted maid, and my troublesome brother, who is always teasing me about coming to work at my embroidery, which I am in a fair way never to get done. So pray excuse yourself as well as you can for having made me wait, and, after that, tell me why I see you in a dress so singular that at first I did not recognize you." 
"Dearest Valentine," said the young man, "the difference between our respective stations makes me fear to offend you by speaking of my love, but yet I cannot find myself in your presence without longing to pour forth my soul, and tell you how fondly I adore you. If it be but to carry away with me the recollection of such sweet moments, I could even thank you for chiding me, for it leaves me a gleam of hope, that if you did not expect me (and that indeed would be worse than vanity to suppose), at least I was in your thoughts. You asked me the cause of my being late, and why I come disguised. I will candidly explain the reason of both, and I trust to your goodness to pardon me. I have chosen a trade." 
"A trade? Oh, Maximilian, how can you jest at a time when we have such deep cause for uneasiness?" 
"Heaven keep me from jesting with that which is far dearer to me than life itself! But listen to me, Valentine, and I will tell you all about it. I became weary of ranging fields and scaling walls, and seriously alarmed at the idea suggested by you, that if caught hovering about here your father would very likely have me sent to prison as a thief. That would compromise the honor of the French army, to say nothing of the fact that the continual presence of a captain of Spahis in a place where no warlike projects could be supposed to account for it might well create surprise; so I have become a gardener, and, consequently, adopted the costume of my calling." 
"What excessive nonsense you talk, Maximilian!" 
"Nonsense? Pray do not call what I consider the wisest action of my life by such a name. Consider, by becoming a gardener I effectually screen our meetings from all suspicion or danger." 
"I beseech of you, Maximilian, to cease trifling, and tell me what you really mean." 
"Simply, that having ascertained that the piece of ground on which I stand was to let, I made application for it, was readily accepted by the proprietor, and am now master of this fine crop of lucerne. Think of that, Valentine! There is nothing now to prevent my building myself a little hut on my plantation, and residing not twenty yards from you. Only imagine what happiness that would afford me. I can scarcely contain myself at the bare idea. Such felicity seems above all price--as a thing impossible and unattainable. But would you believe that I purchase all this delight, joy, and happiness, for which I would cheerfully have surrendered ten years of my life, at the small cost of 500 francs per annum, paid quarterly? Henceforth we have nothing to fear. I am on my own ground, and have an undoubted right to place a ladder against the wall, and to look over when I please, without having any apprehensions of being taken off by the police as a suspicious character. I may also enjoy the precious privilege of assuring you of my fond, faithful, and unalterable affection, whenever you visit your favorite bower, unless, indeed, it offends your pride to listen to professions of love from the lips of a poor workingman, clad in a blouse and cap." A faint cry of mingled pleasure and surprise escaped from the lips of Valentine, who almost instantly said, in a saddened tone, as though some envious cloud darkened the joy which illumined her heart, "Alas, no, Maximilian, this must not be, for many reasons. We should presume too much on our own strength, and, like others, perhaps, be led astray by our blind confidence in each other's prudence." 
"How can you for an instant entertain so unworthy a thought, dear Valentine? Have I not, from the first blessed hour of our acquaintance, schooled all my words and actions to your sentiments and ideas? And you have, I am sure, the fullest confidence in my honor. When you spoke to me of experiencing a vague and indefinite sense of coming danger, I placed myself blindly and devotedly at your service, asking no other reward than the pleasure of being useful to you; and have I ever since, by word or look, given you cause of regret for having selected me from the numbers that would willingly have sacrificed their lives for you? You told me, my dear Valentine, that you were engaged to M. d'Epinay, and that your father was resolved upon completing the match, and that from his will there was no appeal, as M. de Villefort was never known to change a determination once formed. I kept in the background, as you wished, and waited, not for the decision of your heart or my own, but hoping that providence would graciously interpose in our behalf, and order events in our favor. But what cared I for delays or difficulties, Valentine, as long as you confessed that you loved me, and took pity on me? If you will only repeat that avowal now and then, I can endure anything." 
"Ah, Maximilian, that is the very thing that makes you so bold, and which renders me at once so happy and unhappy, that I frequently ask myself whether it is better for me to endure the harshness of my mother-in-law, and her blind preference for her own child, or to be, as I now am, insensible to any pleasure save such as I find in these meetings, so fraught with danger to both." 
"I will not admit that word," returned the young man; "it is at once cruel and unjust. Is it possible to find a more submissive slave than myself? You have permitted me to converse with you from time to time, Valentine, but forbidden my ever following you in your walks or elsewhere--have I not obeyed? And since I found means to enter this enclosure to exchange a few words with you through this gate--to be close to you without really seeing you--have I ever asked so much as to touch the hem of your gown or tried to pass this barrier which is but a trifle to one of my youth and strength? Never has a complaint or a murmur escaped me. I have been bound by my promises as rigidly as any knight of olden times. Come, come, dearest Valentine, confess that what I say is true, lest I be tempted to call you unjust." 
"It is true," said Valentine, as she passed the end of her slender fingers through a small opening in the planks, and permitted Maximilian to press his lips to them, "and you are a true and faithful friend; but still you acted from motives of self-interest, my dear Maximilian, for you well knew that from the moment in which you had manifested an opposite spirit all would have been ended between us. You promised to bestow on me the friendly affection of a brother. For I have no friend but yourself upon earth, who am neglected and forgotten by my father, harassed and persecuted by my mother-in-law, and left to the sole companionship of a paralyzed and speechless old man, whose withered hand can no longer press mine, and who can speak to me with the eye alone, although there still lingers in his heart the warmest tenderness for his poor grandchild. Oh, how bitter a fate is mine, to serve either as a victim or an enemy to all who are stronger than myself, while my only friend and supporter is a living corpse! Indeed, indeed, Maximilian, I am very miserable, and if you love me it must be out of pity." 
"Valentine," replied the young man, deeply affected, "I will not say you are all I love in the world, for I dearly prize my sister and brother-in-law; but my affection for them is calm and tranquil, in no manner resembling what I feel for you. When I think of you my heart beats fast, the blood burns in my veins, and I can hardly breathe; but I solemnly promise you to restrain all this ardor, this fervor and intensity of feeling, until you yourself shall require me to render them available in serving or assisting you. M. Franz is not expected to return home for a year to come, I am told; in that time many favorable and unforeseen chances may befriend us. Let us, then, hope for the best; hope is so sweet a comforter. Meanwhile, Valentine, while reproaching me with selfishness, think a little what you have been to me--the beautiful but cold resemblance of a marble Venus. What promise of future reward have you made me for all the submission and obedience I have evinced?--none whatever. What granted me?--scarcely more. You tell me of M. Franz d'Epinay, your betrothed lover, and you shrink from the idea of being his wife; but tell me, Valentine, is there no other sorrow in your heart? You see me devoted to you, body and soul, my life and each warm drop that circles round my heart are consecrated to your service; you know full well that my existence is bound up in yours--that were I to lose you I would not outlive the hour of such crushing misery; yet you speak with calmness of the prospect of your being the wife of another! Oh, Valentine, were I in your place, and did I feel conscious, as you do, of being worshipped, adored, with such a love as mine, a hundred times at least should I have passed my hand between these iron bars, and said, 'Take this hand, dearest Maximilian, and believe that, living or dead, I am yours--yours only, and forever!'" The poor girl made no reply, but her lover could plainly hear her sobs and tears. A rapid change took place in the young man's feelings. "Dearest, dearest Valentine," exclaimed he, "forgive me if I have offended you, and forget the words I spoke if they have unwittingly caused you pain." 
"No, Maximilian, I am not offended," answered she, "but do you not see what a poor, helpless being I am, almost a stranger and an outcast in my father's house, where even he is seldom seen; whose will has been thwarted, and spirits broken, from the age of ten years, beneath the iron rod so sternly held over me; oppressed, mortified, and persecuted, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, no person has cared for, even observed my sufferings, nor have I ever breathed one word on the subject save to yourself. Outwardly and in the eyes of the world, I am surrounded by kindness and affection; but the reverse is the case. The general remark is, 'Oh, it cannot be expected that one of so stern a character as M. Villefort could lavish the tenderness some fathers do on their daughters. What though she has lost her own mother at a tender age, she has had the happiness to find a second mother in Madame de Villefort.' The world, however, is mistaken; my father abandons me from utter indifference, while my mother-in-law detests me with a hatred so much the more terrible because it is veiled beneath a continual smile." 
"Hate you, sweet Valentine," exclaimed the young man; "how is it possible for any one to do that?" 
"Alas," replied the weeping girl, "I am obliged to own that my mother-in-law's aversion to me arises from a very natural source--her overweening love for her own child, my brother Edward." 
"But why should it?" 
"I do not know; but, though unwilling to introduce money matters into our present conversation, I will just say this much--that her extreme dislike to me has its origin there; and I much fear she envies me the fortune I enjoy in right of my mother, and which will be more than doubled at the death of M. and Mme. de Saint-Méran, whose sole heiress I am. Madame de Villefort has nothing of her own, and hates me for being so richly endowed. Alas, how gladly would I exchange the half of this wealth for the happiness of at least sharing my father's love. God knows, I would prefer sacrificing the whole, so that it would obtain me a happy and affectionate home." 
"Poor Valentine!" 
"I seem to myself as though living a life of bondage, yet at the same time am so conscious of my own weakness that I fear to break the restraint in which I am held, lest I fall utterly helpless. Then, too, my father is not a person whose orders may be infringed with impunity; protected as he is by his high position and firmly established reputation for talent and unswerving integrity, no one could oppose him; he is all-powerful even with the king; he would crush you at a word. Dear Maximilian, believe me when I assure you that if I do not attempt to resist my father's commands it is more on your account than my own." 
"But why, Valentine, do you persist in anticipating the worst,--why picture so gloomy a future?" 
"Because I judge it from the past." 
"Still, consider that although I may not be, strictly speaking, what is termed an illustrious match for you, I am, for many reasons, not altogether so much beneath your alliance. The days when such distinctions were so nicely weighed and considered no longer exist in France, and the first families of the monarchy have intermarried with those of the empire. The aristocracy of the lance has allied itself with the nobility of the cannon. Now I belong to this last-named class; and certainly my prospects of military preferment are most encouraging as well as certain. My fortune, though small, is free and unfettered, and the memory of my late father is respected in our country, Valentine, as that of the most upright and honorable merchant of the city; I say our country, because you were born not far from Marseilles." 
"Don't speak of Marseilles, I beg of you, Maximilian; that one word brings back my mother to my recollection--my angel mother, who died too soon for myself and all who knew her; but who, after watching over her child during the brief period allotted to her in this world, now, I fondly hope, watches from her home in heaven. Oh, if my mother were still living, there would be nothing to fear, Maximilian, for I would tell her that I loved you, and she would protect us." 
"I fear, Valentine," replied the lover, "that were she living I should never have had the happiness of knowing you; you would then have been too happy to have stooped from your grandeur to bestow a thought on me." 
"Now it is you who are unjust, Maximilian," cried Valentine; "but there is one thing I wish to know." 
"And what is that?" inquired the young man, perceiving that Valentine hesitated. 
"Tell me truly, Maximilian, whether in former days, when our fathers dwelt at Marseilles, there was ever any misunderstanding between them?" 
"Not that I am aware of," replied the young man, "unless, indeed, any ill-feeling might have arisen from their being of opposite parties--your father was, as you know, a zealous partisan of the Bourbons, while mine was wholly devoted to the emperor; there could not possibly be any other difference between them. But why do you ask?" 
"I will tell you," replied the young girl, "for it is but right you should know. Well, on the day when your appointment as an officer of the Legion of honor was announced in the papers, we were all sitting with my grandfather, M. Noirtier; M. Danglars was there also--you recollect M. Danglars, do you not, Maximilian, the banker, whose horses ran away with my mother-in-law and little brother, and very nearly killed them? While the rest of the company were discussing the approaching marriage of Mademoiselle Danglars, I was reading the paper to my grandfather; but when I came to the paragraph about you, although I had done nothing else but read it over to myself all the morning (you know you had told me all about it the previous evening), I felt so happy, and yet so nervous, at the idea of speaking your name aloud, and before so many people, that I really think I should have passed it over, but for the fear that my doing so might create suspicions as to the cause of my silence; so I summoned up all my courage, and read it as firmly and as steadily as I could." 
"Dear Valentine!" 
"Well, would you believe it? directly my father caught the sound of your name he turned round quite hastily, and, like a poor silly thing, I was so persuaded that every one must be as much affected as myself by the utterance of your name, that I was not surprised to see my father start, and almost tremble; but I even thought (though that surely must have been a mistake) that M. Danglars trembled too." 
"'Morrel, Morrel,' cried my father, 'stop a bit;' then knitting his brows into a deep frown, he added, 'surely this cannot be one of the Morrel family who lived at Marseilles, and gave us so much trouble from their violent Bonapartism--I mean about the year 1815.'--'Yes,' replied M. Danglars, 'I believe he is the son of the old shipowner.'" 
"Indeed," answered Maximilian; "and what did your father say then, Valentine?" 
"Oh, such a dreadful thing, that I don't dare to tell you." 
"Always tell me everything," said Maximilian with a smile. 
"'Ah,' continued my father, still frowning, 'their idolized emperor treated these madmen as they deserved; he called them 'food for powder,' which was precisely all they were good for; and I am delighted to see that the present government have adopted this salutary principle with all its pristine vigor; if Algiers were good for nothing but to furnish the means of carrying so admirable an idea into practice, it would be an acquisition well worthy of struggling to obtain. Though it certainly does cost France somewhat dear to assert her rights in that uncivilized country.'" 
"Brutal politics, I must confess." said Maximilian; "but don't attach any serious importance, dear, to what your father said. My father was not a bit behind yours in that sort of talk. 'Why,' said he, 'does not the emperor, who has devised so many clever and efficient modes of improving the art of war, organize a regiment of lawyers, judges and legal practitioners, sending them in the hottest fire the enemy could maintain, and using them to save better men?' You see, my dear, that for picturesque expression and generosity of spirit there is not much to choose between the language of either party. But what did M. Danglars say to this outburst on the part of the procureur?" 
"Oh, he laughed, and in that singular manner so peculiar to himself--half-malicious, half-ferocious; he almost immediately got up and took his leave; then, for the first time, I observed the agitation of my grandfather, and I must tell you, Maximilian, that I am the only person capable of discerning emotion in his paralyzed frame. And I suspected that the conversation that had been carried on in his presence (for they always say and do what they like before the dear old man, without the smallest regard for his feelings) had made a strong impression on his mind; for, naturally enough, it must have pained him to hear the emperor he so devotedly loved and served spoken of in that depreciating manner." 
"The name of M. Noirtier," interposed Maximilian, "is celebrated throughout Europe; he was a statesman of high standing, and you may or may not know, Valentine, that he took a leading part in every Bonapartist conspiracy set on foot during the restoration of the Bourbons." 
"Oh, I have often heard whispers of things that seem to me most strange--the father a Bonapartist, the son a Royalist; what can have been the reason of so singular a difference in parties and politics? But to resume my story; I turned towards my grandfather, as though to question him as to the cause of his emotion; he looked expressively at the newspaper I had been reading. 'What is the matter, dear grandfather?' said I, 'are you pleased?' He gave me a sign in the affirmative. 'With what my father said just now?' He returned a sign in the negative. 'Perhaps you liked what M. Danglars said?' Another sign in the negative. 'Oh, then, you were glad to hear that M. Morrel (I didn't dare to say Maximilian) had been made an officer of the Legion of Honor?' He signified assent; only think of the poor old man's being so pleased to think that you, who were a perfect stranger to him, had been made an officer of the Legion of Honor! Perhaps it was a mere whim on his part, for he is falling, they say, into second childhood, but I love him for showing so much interest in you." 
"How singular," murmured Maximilian; "your father hates me, while your grandfather, on the contrary--What strange feelings are aroused by politics." 
"Hush," cried Valentine, suddenly; "some one is coming!" Maximilian leaped at one bound into his crop of lucerne, which he began to pull up in the most ruthless way, under the pretext of being occupied in weeding it. 
"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" exclaimed a voice from behind the trees. "Madame is searching for you everywhere; there is a visitor in the drawing-room." 
"A visitor?" inquired Valentine, much agitated; "who is it?" 
"Some grand personage--a prince I believe they said--the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"I will come directly," cried Valentine aloud. The name of Monte Cristo sent an electric shock through the young man on the other side of the iron gate, to whom Valentine's "I am coming" was the customary signal of farewell. 
"Now, then," said Maximilian, leaning on the handle of his spade, "I would give a good deal to know how it comes about that the Count of Monte Cristo is acquainted with M. de Villefort."  
圣·奥诺路是有钱人的住宅区，各区各样的巨厦府邸都以其设计高雅和建筑华丽而相互争辉，靠近这条路的中段，在一座最富丽堂皇的大厦的后面，有一座很大的花园，园子里到处是栗子树，树冠昂然俯视着那象城堡似的又高又结实的围墙。每年春天，粉红的和雪白的栗花纷纷飘落，于是，在那路易十四时代筑成的铁门两旁方顶上的大石花盆里，就堆满了这些娇柔的花瓣。这个高贵的入口虽然外观很华丽，那种植在两只石花盆里的牛花也很多姿绰约：那杂色斑驳的叶片随风摇，深红色的花朵赏心悦目，但是，自从这座大厦的主人搬进来以后（那已是很多年以前的事了），却一直是废弃不用。大厦的正门面向圣·奥诺路，前面有一个种满花草的庭园，后面就是关闭在这扇铁门里的花园。这扇门以前原和一个肥沃的果园相通，果园的面积约一亩左右，但投机鬼却在这个果园的尽头划了一条线，也就是说，修筑了一条街道。而这条街道甚至在还没有完工之前就已经取好了名，果园的主人原想使这条街道和那条被称为圣·奥诺路的巴黎大动脉连接起来的，这样就可以把果园当作可以建筑房屋的沿街地皮卖出去了。 
可是，在投机买卖上，真所谓谋事在人，成事在天。这条被定了新名字的街道始终没有修完，果园的购买者本钱付了不少，可是除非他甘心蚀一大笔钱，否则无法找到一个愿意来接手这笔买卖的人。但他相信将来总有一天会卖得一大笔钱的，到那时不但可以偿清他过去所支出的费用，而且还可以捞回那笔困死在这项投资上的资金的利息，所以他只得以年租金五百法朗的价钱，把这块地方暂时租给了一个水果贩子。因此，正如刚才已经说过的，这扇通果园的铁门已封闭了起来，任其生锈腐蚀，而的确要不了多久铁锈就会把门的铰链烂断，同时，为了防止果园里的掘土工人擅自窥视灯厦，玷污贵族的庭园，铁门上又钉了六尺高的木板。不错，木板钉得并不十分密，从板缝里仍然可以偷看到园内的景色，但那座房子里的家风极其严肃，是不怕轻狂之徒作好奇的窥视的。 
在这个果园里，以前曾一度种植过最精美的水果和蔬菜，现在却只疏疏松松地种植着一些苜蓿花，由于无人照料，将来，恐怕免不了要成一块贫瘠的空地的。它和那条规划中的街道有一扇矮矮的小门相通着，开门进来，便是这块篱笆围住的荒地，尽管是荒地，一星期之前，业主却从它身上得回了千分之五的老本，而以前它是一个子都不赚的。在大厦那边，我们前面已经提到过，栗子树高高地耸立着，长得比围墙还高，其他的花木也欣欣向荣地生长着，并不受栗子树的影响，它们热切地向四面八方蔓延开去，布满了园中的空地，象在坚持它们也有权享受阳光和空气似的。花园里有一角枝叶极其茂密，几乎把阳光都关在了外面，这儿有一条大石凳和各种各样农家风味的坐椅，表明这个隐秘的去处是一个聚会的地点，或是这大厦里某位主人翁所心爱的静居处，大厦离这儿虽只有一百步左右，但从茂密的绿叶丛中望出去，却只能看到一个极模糊的影子。总之，选择这个神秘的地点作为静居处是极有道理的，因为这儿可以躲避所有窥视的目光，有凉快爽神的树荫，茂密的枝叶象是一重天幕。即使在最炎热的夏季，遇到那火烧一般的日子，灼人的阳光一丝也进不来，鸟儿的婉转歌唱，街上和大厦里的喧嚣声都传不到这儿来。 
春之女神最近赐了一些极暖和的日子给巴黎的居民。这天傍晚，可以看见石凳上很随便地放着一本书，一把阳伞和一只绣花篮子，篮子里拖出一块未完工的绣花麻纱手帕。离这几样东西不远的地方，有一个青年女子站在铁门旁边，竭力从板缝中向外面张望，她的态度极其热切，眼睛一眨不眨，这可以证明她非常关心这件事。正在这时，果园通街道的那扇门无声地打开了，进来的是一个高大强壮的青年人，身上穿着一套普通的灰色工装，戴着一顶丝绒的鸭舌帽，他的头发，胡子和胡须却梳理得极其整齐，漆黑光亮，同他身上的这种平民式的打扮极不相称。他把门打开之后，迅速地向四周环顾了一下，发觉并没有人看到他，就走了进来，然后小心地把门关上了，步子匆忙地向铁门走过来。 
青年女郎虽然见到了她所期待着的人，但看到服装不对，不禁大吃一惊，急忙要抽身退回。但那个眼睛里燃烧着爱情之火的青年却已经从门的缺门里看到了白衣服的动作，又看到了他那位美丽的邻居细腰上的那条蓝色腰带在飘动。他急忙跑过来，把他的嘴贴在一个缺口上，喊道：“别怕，瓦朗蒂娜，是我！” 
青年女郎走近前来。“噢，阁下，”她说道，“你今天为什么来得这么晚呢？现在差不多已是吃饭前时候啦，我的后母老是监视着我，我的侍女也老是在窥探着我的一举一动，我每做一件事，每说一句话，她都得去报告，我得费好大的劲儿才能摆脱她们。还有，我的弟弟也老是讨厌地要我和他作伴，要摆脱他也不容易，我今天是借口要静静地完成一件急于完工的刺绣才得以到这儿来的。你先好好解释一下你这么晚才来的原因吧，然后再告诉我你为什么要穿这样古怪的一套衣服，我差一点认不出你了。” 
“亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，”那青年说道，“我爱你到了极点，以致我不敢对你说我爱你，可是我每次看到你，总是想对你说：‘我崇拜你。’这样，当我离开你的时候，即使我回想自己的话，心里也是甜蜜的。现在我谢谢你的责备，你责备我的话实在非常可爱，因为，由此可以知道，虽不敢说你就在等候我，但却知道你在想念我。你想知道我迟到的原因和化装的理由，我一定解释给你听，也希望你能宽恕我。我已经选定一项生意。” 
“一项生意！噢，马西米兰，我们现在担心还来不及呢，你怎么能在这种时候还开玩笑呢？” 
“上帝别让我跟那比我自己的生命还宝贵的人开玩笑吧！可是听我说，瓦朗蒂娜，听我来把这件事详详细细地告诉你。我对于量地皮和爬墙头实在有点厌倦了，而且你让对我说，要是你父亲看到我在这儿逗留，很可能会把我当成一名小偷关到牢里去的，所以我很担心，因为那样会把法国全体陆军的名誉都玷污了的，同时，要是别人看到一位驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵上尉老是在这既无城堡要围攻又无要塞要守卫的地方溜达，会非常惊奇的，所以我才把自己装扮成个菜贩子，并穿上了这行职业的服装。” 
“你讲的话真无聊，马西米兰！” 
“正巧相反，我相信这是我平生最聪明的一个举动，因为我们因此可以绝对平安无事的。” 
“求求你了，马西米兰，把实话告诉我吧。” 
“很简单，因为打听到我所站的这块地皮要出租，我就去要求承租，业主马上就接受了，而我现在就是这一大片苜蓿花的主人了。想想看，瓦朗蒂娜！现在谁都来不能阻止我在自己的领地上盖起一间小房子，从此以后住在离你不到二十码的地方啦。你想我多快乐呵！我简直高兴得话都说不出来啦。你想，瓦郎蒂娜，这种事能用金钱买得到吗？不可能的，是不是？嘿，象这样幸福，这样愉快，这样高兴的事，我原是想用十年的生命来作交换的，但现在却只花了我——你猜是多少——五百法郎一年，还是按季度付款的！我现在是在我自己的土地上了，而且无疑有权可以拿一个梯子来靠在墙头上，想什么时候往这边看就什么时候爬上来看，我可以向你尽情地倾诉我对你的爱而不必怕被人带到警察局去——当然罗，除非，你觉得一个穿工装和戴鸭舌帽的穷工人向你倾诉爱情有损于你的面子。” 
瓦朗蒂娜的嘴里轻轻地发出了一声惊喜交集的喊声，但象有一片嫉妒的阴云遮住了她心中的快乐似的，她几乎立刻就以一种抑郁的口吻说道，“唉，不，马西米兰！那样我们可就太放任了，我怕我们的幸福会使我们忘乎所以，以致于去滥用那种安全，这样反而会害了我们。” 
“你怎么会有这样不值一想的念头呢，亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜？从我们最初相识的那值得庆幸的一刻起，难道我的全部言行还不足以来向你表明我的心吗？我相信你对于我的人格也是十分信任的，当你对我说，你隐隐约约地感觉到有某种危险在威胁着你的时候，我就真诚地心甘情愿地听你驱使，不求任何报偿，只要能对你有用，我就感到很愉快了。有许多人愿意为你牺牲他们的生命，在那些人当中，你选中了我，而我是否曾在哪句话或哪次眼色上使你感到遗憾过？你告诉过我，亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，说你已经和伊皮奈先生订了婚，而且你父亲已决心要成全这件婚事，而他的意志是不容改变的，因为维尔福先生一旦下了决心，是从来不会改变的。好，我自愿留在幕后，等待着，并不是等待我自己或你的决定，而是等待上帝的吩咐。而在这其间，你爱我，怜悯我，并坦白地告诉了我。我感谢你那句甜蜜的话，我只要求你能时时重复一下那句话，因为它可以使我忘掉其他的一切。” 
“啊，马西米兰，正是那句话才使得你如此大胆，而使得我既感到快乐，又感到悲伤，以致我常常问自己，究竟哪一种感情对我更好一些。是后母的严厉，偏爱她自己的孩子使我感觉到痛苦呢，还是在我和你相会的时候，感到的充满了危险的幸福？” 
“危险！”马西米兰大声说道，“你怎么能用这样残酷和不公平的两个字呢，难道你还能找到一个比我更柔顺的奴隶吗？你答应我可以时时和你谈话，瓦朗蒂娜，但却禁止我在你散步的时候或在其他交际场合跟踪你，我服从了。而自从我想方设法走进这个园子以后，我隔着这道门和你谈话，虽接近你却看不到你，我有哪一次想从这些缺口里伸进手来碰一碰你的衣边吗？我有没有起过推倒这堵墙的念头呢？你知道我年轻、又强壮，推倒这堵墙是不要吹灰之力的，但我从来没抱怨过你这种含蓄的态度，从来没表示过某种欲望。我象一个古代的骑士那样信守着我的诺言。来吧，至少承认了这几点吧，不然我就要觉得是你不公平啦。” 
“这倒是真的，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，她从木板的一个小缺口里伸出一只手指尖过来，马西米兰便在那指尖上吻了一下。“这倒是真的。你是一个可敬的朋友，但你的这种行为却仍然是出于自私的动机，亲爱的马西米兰，因为你知道得很清楚，假如你表示出某些相反的意思，我们之间的一切就都完了。你答应过要给与我热烈的兄妹之爱。我呢，除了你，在这个世界上再没有别的朋友，我的父亲根本不关心我，我的后母只一个劲地迫害我，虐待我，我惟一的伙伴就是一个不能讲话、患了麻症的老人，他那干瘪的手已不再能来紧握我的手了，只有他的眼睛可以和我谈话，他的心里无疑地还为我保留着一些余温。噢，我的命好苦呀，凡是那些比我强的人，不是把我当作了牺牲品，就是把我当作了敌人，而我惟一的朋友和支持者却是一具活尸！真的，马西米兰，我真痛苦极了，你爱我是为我着想，不是为了你自己，这的确是对的。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，”青年被深深地感动了，说道，“我不能说在这个世界上我所爱的人只有你，因为我也爱我的妹妹和妹夫，但我对他们的爱是宁静的，绝不象我对你的爱。只要一想到你，我的心跳就加速，血管里的血就流得更快了，我的胸膛就开始心烦意乱起伏不定，但我郑重地答应你，我会克制住这一切热情来为你效劳或帮助你的。我听说，弗兰兹先生一年之内是不会回国的，在这期间，我们最好还是满怀希望吧。因为希望是这样甜蜜的一个安慰者。瓦朗蒂娜，当你怪我自私的时候，暂且请稍微想一想你对我的态度吧，那活象是一尊美丽而冷漠的爱神像。对于那种忠诚，那种服从，那种自制，你拿什么来回报我吗？没有。你有没有赐给过我什么？极少。你告诉我说弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生是你的未婚夫，说你每当想到将来要做他的妻子就感到害怕。告诉我，瓦朗蒂娜，你的心里难道再没有别的什么念头了吗？我把我的整个生命都奉献给了你，还有我的灵魂，甚至我的心的每一次最轻微的跳动都是为了你。而当我这样整个人都已属于你了的时候，当我对自己说，要是我失去了你，我就会死了的时候，而你，当你想到自己将属于另外一个人的时候，却并不心惊胆战！噢，瓦朗蒂娜，瓦朗蒂娜呀！假如我处在你的位置上，假如我知道自己被人深深地爱着，象我爱你这样，我至少已有一百次把我的手从这些铁栅之间伸过来了，对可怜的马西米兰说：‘我是你的了，马西米兰，今生来世，都只属于你！’” 
瓦朗蒂娜没有回答，但她的爱人却可以清晰地听到她在哭泣。那青年的情感立刻发生了急速的变化。“噢，瓦朗蒂娜，瓦朗蒂娜！”大声说道，“假如我的话里有什么使你感到痛苦，那就把它忘了吧。” 
“不，”她说道，“你说得没错，但你难道看不出我只是一个可怜虫吗？在家里受尽委曲，几乎就象一个陌生人一样。因为我父亲对我几乎就象一个陌生人。我的心早已碎了，自从我十岁那年起，每一天，每一小时，每一分钟，我都在忍受着那些铁石心肠般的压迫我的人折磨。谁都不了解我所受的痛苦，而除了你之外，我也不曾对别人讲过，外表上，在一般人的眼里，我的一切都很顺利，每个人对我都很体贴，但实际上，每个人都是我的仇敌。一般人都说：‘噢，象维尔福先生这样严厉的人，本来就是不能指望他会象某些父亲那样对女儿滥施温情的，但她也算是够幸福的了，竟能找到象维尔福夫人这样的一位继母。’但是，一般人都错了，我的父亲对我漠不关心，我的后母憎恨我，而由于她那种憎恨老是用微笑遮掩着，所以我就觉得更可怕了。” 
“恨你！你，瓦朗蒂娜！”青年大声说道，“谁会干得出这种事呢？” 
“唉！”瓦朗蒂娜说道，“我不得不承认，我后母厌恶我，起因是非常自然的，因为他太爱她自己的孩子了，就是我的弟弟爱德华。” 
“那怎么可能呢？” 
“怎么可能？本来我似乎不应该和你谈金钱上的事情，但是，我的朋友，我认为她对我的憎恨正是从那一点上引起来的。她没有什么财产，而我却已经很有钱了，因为我是我母亲的继承人，而且我的财产将来还会增加一倍的，因为圣·梅朗先生和圣·梅朗夫人的财富将来总有一天也会传给我的。嗯，我想她是在嫉妒我。噢，我的上帝！假如我把那笔财产分一半给她，我就可以使我自己在维尔福先生家里的地位确确实实地象一个女儿在她父亲的家里一样了，而我当然会毫无疑义地那样做的！” 
“可怜的瓦朗蒂娜！” 
“我似乎觉得自己象被链子锁着般的生活，同时，我又很清楚自己很软弱，我甚至怕去挣断那捆绑住我的锁链，深恐我会因此而陷入极端无力和无助的境地。而且，我的父亲不会对那些违背了他的命令而不加以责罚的。他极不喜欢我，也会极不喜欢你的，甚至对国王也是如此。因为他过去的历史是无可指摘的，而他的地位又几乎是不可动摇的。噢，马西米兰，我向你保证，假如我不作挣扎，那全是因为在那场挣扎里，不但我，而且连你也要被压倒的。” 
“但是，瓦朗蒂娜，你为什么要绝望，而且把未来看得这样可怕呢？” 
“啊，我的朋友！因为这是我从过去的事情上判断出来的。” 
“可是你再想一想，严格地说，我虽够不上如你所称之为的门当户对，但我有许多理由觉得我和你的结合并不能完全说是高攀。法国现在已不再是注重门第观念的时代了，君主国的家庭已和帝国的家庭联姻，用长枪的贵族已和用炮筒的贵族阶层通婚。我是属于后者这个阶级的，我在陆军中的父亲是很有前途的，我的财产虽然不多，但却不受任何人的牵制，我的父亲在我们故乡里很受人尊敬，大家都认为他是位最可尊敬的商人。我说‘我们的’故乡，瓦朗蒂娜，因为你出生的地点离马赛也并不远。” 
“别再提马赛这个名字好吧，我求求你了，马西米兰，这个地名使我又想起了我的母亲，我那天使般的母亲啊，对我，对所有那些认识她的人来说，她真是死得太早啦。她在这个世界上照顾她孩子的时间虽短，但我至少希望，现在，当她那纯洁的灵魂在那幸福的地方飞翔的时候，她还能亲切怜悯地注视着她的孩子。啊，要是她还活着的话，我们就什么都不必怕啦，马西米兰，因为我可以把我们的爱情坦白地告诉她，而她一定会来帮助和保护我们的。” 
“我恐怕，瓦朗蒂娜，”她的爱人答道，“要是她还活着的话，我就决不会幸运地认识你了。那时你只会感到很幸福，而高高在上了。幸福的瓦朗蒂娜会根本瞧不起我的。” 
“马西米兰，现在你也变得残酷——哦，不公平啦，”瓦朗蒂娜大声说道，“但我很想知道一件事。” 
“什么事？”青年问道，他觉察到瓦朗蒂娜有些犹豫，象是不知道该怎么开口说似的。“告诉我，马西米兰，从前，在马赛的时候，你父亲和我父亲之间有没有发生过什么误会？” 
“据我所知没有，”青年答道，“除非，的确，由于他们是敌对党派的人，或许彼此有点不喜欢对方吧。你父亲，你也是知道的，是一个热心拥护波旁王朝的保皇党，而我父亲则是完全尽忠于皇帝的。他们之间不会再有任何其他争执的了。但你为什么要提出这个问题来呢，瓦朗蒂娜？” 
“我来告诉你吧，”青年女郎答道，“而且这事你本来也是应该知道的。但我必须从报上公开声明任命你为荣誉团军官的那一天讲起。那天我们都坐在我祖父诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间里，腾格拉尔先生也在那儿，你还记得腾格拉尔先生吗？不记得了吗，马西米兰？就是借马车给我的后母，差一顶点儿就把她和我的小弟弟一起摔死的那个银行家。别人都忙着在那儿讨论腾格拉尔小组的婚事，我在高声读报纸给我祖父听，但当我读到有关你的那一段的时候，尽管那天早晨我没有做过别的什么事情，只是把那一段消息翻来复去地读给我自己听（你知道，这个消息你已经在前一天傍晚就告诉过我了），我感到这样的快乐，但一想到当着这么多人的面前把你——我的爱人的名字念出来，我就又觉得很慌张，我真的很想把那一段跳过去，可是又怕我的沉默会引起别人的怀疑所以我鼓起所有的勇气，尽可能的把它坚定沉着地念了出来。” 
“可爱的瓦朗蒂娜！” 
“嗯，我父亲一听到你的名字，就很快地转过头来。我相信——你瞧我多傻——每个人听到你的名字都会象被一个霹雳击中似的大吃一惊的，所以我好象看到我父亲吃了一惊，甚至连腾格拉尔先生也吃了一惊，但那当然只是一种幻觉而已。” 
“‘莫雷尔！莫雷尔！’我父亲大声说道，‘停一下，’然后，他紧锁眉头，又说道‘马赛有一家姓莫雷尔的，那都是些拿破仑党分子，他们在一八一五年的时候给我们添了不少麻烦，难道这个人就是那家的后代吗？’” 
“‘我想，’腾格拉尔先生回答说，‘小姐所读的报纸上的那个人，就是以前那个船主的儿子。’” 
“真的！”马西米兰答道，“那么你父亲怎么说，瓦朗蒂娜？” 
“噢，太可怕了，我不敢讲。” 
“讲吧，没关系。”青年微笑着说道。 
“‘啊，’我父亲还是皱着眉头说道，‘他们所崇拜的那位皇帝对待这些疯子的态度的确很合适，他把他们称作“炮灰”，这两个字形容得再准确不过了。我很高兴看到现政府正极力实施这个有益的政策，即使驻军守卫阿尔及利亚只是为了那个目的，即使那个政策要花很多钱，我也要向政府道贺。’” 
“这的确是一种恶毒的政策，”马西米兰说道，“但你不必为维尔福先生的那句话感到惭愧，亲爱的，因为我可以向你保证，我父亲在谈到政治的时候，其态度之激烈，并不亚于你父亲。‘哼，’他说道，‘皇帝做过许多好事，但他为什么不把法官和律师编成一个联队，把他们永远派到前线去呢？’你瞧，瓦朗蒂娜，若论及思想的温和谈吐的优雅，两党都是一样的，没什么差别。但检察官这样大大地发扬了一番党的精神以后，腾格拉尔先生又怎么说？” 
“噢，他笑了，是他所特有的那种阴险的微笑，我觉得这种笑很残忍，过了一会儿，他们站起身来走了。那时我才注意到我祖父很气愤。我必须告诉你，马西米兰，只有我一个人能看出那可怜的疯瘫老人的情绪。我怀疑当着他的面所谈的这一番话（因为谁都没有去注意他，可怜的人）已在他的脑子里激起了某种强烈的影响，因为，这是自然的罗，他是这样的挚爱皇帝，一向忠心耿耿地为他效劳，现在别人以这样轻蔑的态度谈论他，他听了当然要觉得痛苦。” 
“谈到诺瓦蒂埃先生，”马西米兰说道，“他是帝国时代鼎鼎有名的一位人物。是一位地位崇高的政治家，我不知道你晓不晓得，瓦朗蒂娜，在波旁王朝复辟的期间，每一次拿破仑党的叛变都是他领导的呢。” 
“噢，我常常听人悄悄地谈论这种事，我觉得这真是奇怪极了。父亲是一个拿破仑党，而儿子却是一个保皇党，究竟有什么理由要在党派和政治上发生这样古怪的差别呢？还是回过头来讲我的故事吧！我转过身去望着我的祖父，想问他为什么这么激动，他若有所思地望着我读的那份报纸。‘什么事呀，亲爱的祖父？’我问道。‘你高兴吗？’他给了我一个肯定的表示。‘是高兴我父亲刚才所说的话吗？’他作了一个否定的回答。‘也许你喜欢腾格拉尔先生所说的话是吗？’又是一个否定的表示。‘噢，那么，你是因为听到莫雷尔先生（我不敢说马西米兰），被任命为荣誉团的军官，所以才感到高兴的吗？’他点头表示了同意。你想想看，那可怜的老人并不认识你，可是却高兴听到你被任命为荣誉团军官的消息！尽管这或许是他无意识的举动，因为他们说，他正在退回到一种第二次童年时代！但我却因为他那个同意的表示而更加爱他了。” 
“真是不可思议，”马西米兰低声说道，“你父亲显然一提到我的名字就怀有憎恨？而你的祖父却正巧相反。这些巴黎人的爱和恨真是奇怪的东西！” 
“嘘！”瓦朗蒂娜突然惊叫道，“快躲起来！快快！有人来啦！” 
马西米兰一下子跳进他的苜蓿花地里，开始用最无情的态度铲起野草来。 
“小姐！小姐！”树丛后面有一个声音喊道。“夫人到处在找您呢，客厅里来客人啦。” 
“客人！”瓦朗蒂娜很焦急地问道，“是谁呀？” 
“一位大人物，一位亲王，这是他们告诉我的。是基督山伯爵阁下。” 
“我马上就来。”瓦朗蒂娜高声说话。 
这个名字使铁门那边的那个人象触电似的吃了一惊，在他的耳朵里，瓦朗蒂娜的那一声“我就来了！”就象是一声离别的丧钟，象是预示着他们永远不能再见面了似的。 
“咦，”马西米兰若有所思地靠在他的铲子把上说道，“基督山伯爵是怎么认识维尔福先生的呢？” 
①巴雷穆斯和狄丝琵是古代巴比伦的一对情人。一次狄丝琵先到林中约会地点，突然附近跳出一只狮子来扑一头牛，她急忙逃走，惊惶中遗落了外衣，外衣上染满了牛血。巴雷穆斯来的时候，只见血衣不见人，以为她被狮子咬死，就拔刀自杀了。后来狄丝琵再回来，看见巴雷穆斯已自杀，也就自杀殉情。 
Chapter 52 Toxicology
 IT WAS really the Count of Monte Cristo who had just arrived at Madame de Villefort's for the purpose of returning the procureur's visit, and at his name, as may be easily imagined, the whole house was in confusion. Madame de Villefort, who was alone in her drawing-room when the count was announced, desired that her son might be brought thither instantly to renew his thanks to the count; and Edward, who heard this great personage talked of for two whole days, made all possible haste to come to him, not from obedience to his mother, or out of any feeling of gratitude to the count, but from sheer curiosity, and that some chance remark might give him the opportunity for making one of the impertinent speeches which made his mother say,--"Oh, that naughty child! But I can't be severe with him, he is really so bright." 
After the usual civilities, the count inquired after M. de Villefort. "My husband dines with the chancellor," replied the young lady; "he has just gone, and I am sure he'll be exceedingly sorry not to have had the pleasure of seeing you before he went." Two visitors who were there when the count arrived, having gazed at him with all their eyes, retired after that reasonable delay which politeness admits and curiosity requires. "What is your sister Valentine doing?" inquired Madame de Villefort of Edward; "tell some one to bid her come here, that I may have the honor of introducing her to the count." 
"You have a daughter, then, madame?" inquired the count; "very young, I presume?" 
"The daughter of M. de Villefort by his first marriage," replied the young wife, "a fine well-grown girl." 
"But melancholy," interrupted Master Edward, snatching the feathers out of the tail of a splendid parroquet that was screaming on its gilded perch, in order to make a plume for his hat. Madame de Villefort merely cried,--"Be still, Edward!" She then added,--"This young madcap is, however, very nearly right, and merely re-echoes what he has heard me say with pain a hundred times; for Mademoiselle de Villefort is, in spite of all we can do to rouse her, of a melancholy disposition and taciturn habit, which frequently injure the effect of her beauty. But what detains her? Go, Edward, and see." 
"Because they are looking for her where she is not to be found." 
"And where are they looking for her?" 
"With grandpapa Noirtier." 
"And do you think she is not there?" 
"No, no, no, no, no, she is not there," replied Edward, singing his words. 
"And where is she, then? If you know, why don't you tell?" 
"She is under the big chestnut-tree," replied the spoiled brat, as he gave, in spite of his mother's commands, live flies to the parrot, which seemed keenly to relish such fare. Madame de Villefort stretched out her hand to ring, intending to direct her waiting-maid to the spot where she would find Valentine, when the young lady herself entered the apartment. She appeared much dejected; and any person who considered her attentively might have observed the traces of recent tears in her eyes. 
Valentine, whom we have in the rapid march of our narrative presented to our readers without formally introducing her, was a tall and graceful girl of nineteen, with bright chestnut hair, deep blue eyes, and that reposeful air of quiet distinction which characterized her mother. Her white and slender fingers, her pearly neck, her cheeks tinted with varying hues reminded one of the lovely Englishwomen who have been so poetically compared in their manner to the gracefulness of a swan. She entered the apartment, and seeing near her stepmother the stranger of whom she had already heard so much, saluted him without any girlish awkwardness, or even lowering her eyes, and with an elegance that redoubled the count's attention. He rose to return the salutation. "Mademoiselle de Villefort, my daughter-in-law," said Madame de Villefort to Monte Cristo, leaning back on her sofa and motioning towards Valentine with her hand. "And M. de Monte Cristo, King of China, Emperor of Cochin-China," said the young imp, looking slyly towards his sister. 
Madame de Villefort at this really did turn pale, and was very nearly angry with this household plague, who answered to the name of Edward; but the count, on the contrary, smiled, and appeared to look at the boy complacently, which caused the maternal heart to bound again with joy and enthusiasm. 
"But, madame," replied the count, continuing the conversation, and looking by turns at Madame de Villefort and Valentine, "have I not already had the honor of meeting yourself and mademoiselle before? I could not help thinking so just now; the idea came over my mind, and as mademoiselle entered the sight of her was an additional ray of light thrown on a confused remembrance; excuse the remark." 
"I do not think it likely, sir; Mademoiselle de Villefort is not very fond of society, and we very seldom go out," said the young lady. 
"Then it was not in society that I met with mademoiselle or yourself, madame, or this charming little merry boy. Besides, the Parisian world is entirely unknown to me, for, as I believe I told you, I have been in Paris but very few days. No,--but, perhaps, you will permit me to call to mind--stay!" The Count placed his hand on his brow as if to collect his thoughts. "No--it was somewhere--away from here--it was--I do not know--but it appears that this recollection is connected with a lovely sky and some religious fête; mademoiselle was holding flowers in her hand, the interesting boy was chasing a beautiful peacock in a garden, and you, madame, were under the trellis of some arbor. Pray come to my aid, madame; do not these circumstances appeal to your memory?" 
"No, indeed," replied Madame de Villefort; "and yet it appears to me, sir, that if I had met you anywhere, the recollection of you must have been imprinted on my memory." 
"Perhaps the count saw us in Italy," said Valentine timidly. 
"Yes, in Italy; it was in Italy most probably," replied Monte Cristo; "you have travelled then in Italy, mademoiselle?" 
"Yes; madame and I were there two years ago. The doctors, anxious for my lungs, had prescribed the air of Naples. We went by Bologna, Perugia, and Rome." 
"Ah, yes--true, mademoiselle," exclaimed Monte Cristo as if this simple explanation was sufficient to revive the recollection he sought. "It was at Perugia on Corpus Christi Day, in the garden of the H?tel des Postes, when chance brought us together; you, Madame de Villefort, and her son; I now remember having had the honor of meeting you." 
"I perfectly well remember Perugia, sir, and the H?tel des Postes, and the festival of which you speak," said Madame de Villefort, "but in vain do I tax my memory, of whose treachery I am ashamed, for I really do not recall to mind that I ever had the pleasure of seeing you before." 
"It is strange, but neither do I recollect meeting with you," observed Valentine, raising her beautiful eyes to the count. 
"But I remember it perfectly," interposed the darling Edward. 
"I will assist your memory, madame," continued the count; "the day had been burning hot; you were waiting for horses, which were delayed in consequence of the festival. Mademoiselle was walking in the shade of the garden, and your son disappeared in pursuit of the peacock." 
"And I caught it, mamma, don't you remember?" interposed Edward, "and I pulled three such beautiful feathers out of his tail." 
"You, madame, remained under the arbor; do you not remember, that while you were seated on a stone bench, and while, as I told you, Mademoiselle de Villefort and your young son were absent, you conversed for a considerable time with somebody?" 
"Yes, in truth, yes," answered the young lady, turning very red, "I do remember conversing with a person wrapped in a long woollen mantle; he was a medical man, I think." 
"Precisely so, madame; this man was myself; for a fortnight I had been at that hotel, during which period I had cured my valet de chambre of a fever, and my landlord of the jaundice, so that I really acquired a reputation as a skilful physician. We discoursed a long time, madame, on different subjects; of Perugino, of Raffaelle, of manners, customs, of the famous aquatofana, of which they had told you, I think you said, that certain individuals in Perugia had preserved the secret." 
"Yes, true," replied Madame de Villefort, somewhat uneasily, "I remember now." 
"I do not recollect now all the various subjects of which we discoursed, madame," continued the count with perfect calmness; "but I perfectly remember that, falling into the error which others had entertained respecting me, you consulted me as to the health of Mademoiselle de Villefort." 
"Yes, really, sir, you were in fact a medical man," said Madame de Villefort, "since you had cured the sick." 
"Molière or Beaumarchais would reply to you, madame, that it was precisely because I was not, that I had cured my patients; for myself, I am content to say to you that I have studied chemistry and the natural sciences somewhat deeply, but still only as an amateur, you understand."--At this moment the clock struck six. "It is six o'clock," said Madame de Villefort, evidently agitated. "Valentine, will you not go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?" Valentine rose, and saluting the count, left the apartment without speaking. 
"Oh, madame," said the count, when Valentine had left the room, "was it on my account that you sent Mademoiselle de Villefort away?" 
"By no means," replied the young lady quickly; "but this is the hour when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome meal that sustains his pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, of the deplorable condition of my husband's father?" 
"Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me--a paralysis, I think." 
"Alas, yes; the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless; the mind alone is still active in this human machine, and that is faint and flickering, like the light of a lamp about to expire. But excuse me, sir, for talking of our domestic misfortunes; I interrupted you at the moment when you were telling me that you were a skilful chemist." 
"No, madame, I did not say as much as that," replied the count with a smile; "quite the contrary. I have studied chemistry because, having determined to live in eastern climates I have been desirous of following the example of King Mithridates." 
"Mithridates, rex Ponticus," said the young scamp, as he tore some beautiful portraits out of a splendid album, "the individual who took cream in his cup of poison every morning at breakfast." 
"Edward, you naughty boy," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, snatching the mutilated book from the urchin's grasp, "you are positively past bearing; you really disturb the conversation; go, leave us, and join your sister Valentine in dear grandpapa Noirtier's room." 
"The album," said Edward sulkily. 
"What do you mean?--the album!" 
"I want the album." 
"How dare you tear out the drawings?" 
"Oh, it amuses me." 
"Go--go at once." 
"I won't go unless you give me the album," said the boy, seating himself doggedly in an arm-chair, according to his habit of never giving way. 
"Take it, then, and pray disturb us no longer," said Madame de Villefort, giving the album to Edward, who then went towards the door, led by his mother. The count followed her with his eyes. 
"Let us see if she shuts the door after him," he muttered. Madame de Villefort closed the door carefully after the child, the count appearing not to notice her; then casting a scrutinizing glance around the chamber, the young wife returned to her chair, in which she seated herself. "Allow me to observe, madame," said the count, with that kind tone he could assume so well, "you are really very severe with that dear clever child." 
"Oh, sometimes severity is quite necessary," replied Madame de Villefort, with all a mother's real firmness. 
"It was his Cornelius Nepos that Master Edward was repeating when he referred to King Mithridates," continued the count, "and you interrupted him in a quotation which proves that his tutor has by no means neglected him, for your son is really advanced for his years." 
"The fact is, count," answered the mother, agreeably flattered, "he has great aptitude, and learns all that is set before him. He has but one fault, he is somewhat wilful; but really, on referring for the moment to what he said, do you truly believe that Mithridates used these precautions, and that these precautions were efficacious?" 
"I think so, madame, because I myself have made use of them, that I might not be poisoned at Naples, at Palermo, and at Smyrna--that is to say, on three several occasions when, but for these precautions, I must have lost my life." 
"And your precautions were successful?" 
"Completely so." 
"Yes, I remember now your mentioning to me at Perugia something of this sort." 
"Indeed?" said the count with an air of surprise, remarkably well counterfeited; "I really did not remember." 
"I inquired of you if poisons acted equally, and with the same effect, on men of the North as on men of the South; and you answered me that the cold and sluggish habits of the North did not present the same aptitude as the rich and energetic temperaments of the natives of the South." 
"And that is the case," observed Monte Cristo. "I have seen Russians devour, without being visibly inconvenienced, vegetable substances which would infallibly have killed a Neapolitan or an Arab." 
"And you really believe the result would be still more sure with us than in the East, and in the midst of our fogs and rains a man would habituate himself more easily than in a warm latitude to this progressive absorption of poison?" 
"Certainly; it being at the same time perfectly understood that he should have been duly fortified against the poison to which he had not been accustomed." 
"Yes, I understand that; and how would you habituate yourself, for instance, or rather, how did you habituate yourself to it?" 
"Oh, very easily. Suppose you knew beforehand the poison that would be made use of against you; suppose the poison was, for instance, brucine"-- 
"Brucine is extracted from the false angostura [1] is it not?" inquired Madame de Villefort. 
"Precisely, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "but I perceive I have not much to teach you. Allow me to compliment you on your knowledge; such learning is very rare among ladies." 
"Oh, I am aware of that," said Madame de Villefort; "but I have a passion for the occult sciences, which speak to the imagination like poetry, and are reducible to figures, like an algebraic equation; but go on, I beg of you; what you say interests me to the greatest degree." 
"Well," replied Monte Cristo "suppose, then, that this poison was brucine, and you were to take a milligramme the first day, two milligrammes the second day, and so on. Well, at the end of ten days you would have taken a centigramme, at the end of twenty days, increasing another milligramme, you would have taken three hundred centigrammes; that is to say, a dose which you would support without inconvenience, and which would be very dangerous for any other person who had not taken the same precautions as yourself. Well, then, at the end of a month, when drinking water from the same carafe, you would kill the person who drank with you, without your perceiving, otherwise than from slight inconvenience, that there was any poisonous substance mingled with this water." 
"Do you know any other counter-poisons?" 
"I do not." 
"I have often read, and read again, the history of Mithridates," said Madame de Villefort in a tone of reflection, "and had always considered it a fable." 
"No, madame, contrary to most history, it is true; but what you tell me, madame, what you inquire of me, is not the result of a chance query, for two years ago you asked me the same questions, and said then, that for a very long time this history of Mithridates had occupied your mind." 
"True, sir. The two favorite studies of my youth were botany and mineralogy, and subsequently, when I learned that the use of simples frequently explained the whole history of a people, and the entire life of individuals in the East, as flowers betoken and symbolize a love affair, I have regretted that I was not a man, that I might have been a Flamel, a Fontana, or a Cabanis." 
"And the more, madame," said Monte Cristo, "as the Orientals do not confine themselves, as did Mithridates, to make a cuirass of his poisons, but they also made them a dagger. Science becomes, in their hands, not only a defensive weapon, but still more frequently an offensive one; the one serves against all their physical sufferings, the other against all their enemies. With opium, belladonna, brucaea, snake-wood, and the cherry-laurel, they put to sleep all who stand in their way. There is not one of those women, Egyptian, Turkish, or Greek, whom here you call 'good women,' who do not know how, by means of chemistry, to stupefy a doctor, and in psychology to amaze a confessor." 
"Really," said Madame de Villefort, whose eyes sparkled with strange fire at this conversation. 
"Oh, yes, indeed, madame," continued Monte Cristo, "the secret dramas of the East begin with a love philtre and end with a death potion--begin with paradise and end with--hell. There are as many elixirs of every kind as there are caprices and peculiarities in the physical and moral nature of humanity; and I will say further--the art of these chemists is capable with the utmost precision to accommodate and proportion the remedy and the bane to yearnings for love or desires for vengeance." 
"But, sir," remarked the young woman, "these Eastern societies, in the midst of which you have passed a portion of your existence, are as fantastic as the tales that come from their strange land. A man can easily be put out of the way there, then; it is, indeed, the Bagdad and Bassora of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' The sultans and viziers who rule over society there, and who constitute what in France we call the government, are really Haroun-al-Raschids and Giaffars, who not only pardon a poisoner, but even make him a prime minister, if his crime has been an ingenious one, and who, under such circumstances, have the whole story written in letters of gold, to divert their hours of idleness and ennui." 
"By no means, madame; the fanciful exists no longer in the East. There, disguised under other names, and concealed under other costumes, are police agents, magistrates, attorneys-general, and bailiffs. They hang, behead, and impale their criminals in the most agreeable possible manner; but some of these, like clever rogues, have contrived to escape human justice, and succeed in their fraudulent enterprises by cunning stratagems. Amongst us a simpleton, possessed by the demon of hate or cupidity, who has an enemy to destroy, or some near relation to dispose of, goes straight to the grocer's or druggist's, gives a false name, which leads more easily to his detection than his real one, and under the pretext that the rats prevent him from sleeping, purchases five or six grammes of arsenic--if he is really a cunning fellow, he goes to five or six different druggists or grocers, and thereby becomes only five or six times more easily traced;--then, when he has acquired his specific, he administers duly to his enemy, or near kinsman, a dose of arsenic which would make a mammoth or mastodon burst, and which, without rhyme or reason, makes his victim utter groans which alarm the entire neighborhood. Then arrive a crowd of policemen and constables. They fetch a doctor, who opens the dead body, and collects from the entrails and stomach a quantity of arsenic in a spoon. Next day a hundred newspapers relate the fact, with the names of the victim and the murderer. The same evening the grocer or grocers, druggist or druggists, come and say, 'It was I who sold the arsenic to the gentleman;' and rather than not recognize the guilty purchaser, they will recognize twenty. Then the foolish criminal is taken, imprisoned, interrogated, confronted, confounded, condemned, and cut off by hemp or steel; or if she be a woman of any consideration, they lock her up for life. This is the way in which you Northerns understand chemistry, madame. Desrues was, however, I must confess, more skilful." 
"What would you have, sir?" said the lady, laughing; "we do what we can. All the world has not the secret of the Medicis or the Borgias." 
"Now," replied the count, shrugging his shoulders, "shall I tell you the cause of all these stupidities? It is because, at your theatres, by what at least I could judge by reading the pieces they play, they see persons swallow the contents of a phial, or suck the button of a ring, and fall dead instantly. Five minutes afterwards the curtain falls, and the spectators depart. They are ignorant of the consequences of the murder; they see neither the police commissary with his badge of office, nor the corporal with his four men; and so the poor fools believe that the whole thing is as easy as lying. But go a little way from France--go either to Aleppo or Cairo, or only to Naples or Rome, and you will see people passing by you in the streets--people erect, smiling, and fresh-colored, of whom Asmodeus, if you were holding on by the skirt of his mantle, would say, 'That man was poisoned three weeks ago; he will be a dead man in a month.'" 
"Then," remarked Madame de Villefort, "they have again discovered the secret of the famous aquatofana that they said was lost at Perugia." 
"Ah, but madame, does mankind ever lose anything? The arts change about and make a tour of the world; things take a different name, and the vulgar do not follow them--that is all; but there is always the same result. Poisons act particularly on some organ or another--one on the stomach, another on the brain, another on the intestines. Well, the poison brings on a cough, the cough an inflammation of the lungs, or some other complaint catalogued in the book of science, which, however, by no means precludes it from being decidedly mortal; and if it were not, would be sure to become so, thanks to the remedies applied by foolish doctors, who are generally bad chemists, and which will act in favor of or against the malady, as you please; and then there is a human being killed according to all the rules of art and skill, and of whom justice learns nothing, as was said by a terrible chemist of my acquaintance, the worthy Abbé Adelmonte of Taormina, in Sicily, who has studied these national phenomena very profoundly." 
"It is quite frightful, but deeply interesting," said the young lady, motionless with attention. "I thought, I must confess, that these tales, were inventions of the Middle Ages." 
"Yes, no doubt, but improved upon by ours. What is the use of time, rewards of merit, medals, crosses, Monthyon prizes, if they do not lead society towards more complete perfection? Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that is half the battle." 
"So," added Madame de Villefort, constantly returning to her object, "the poisons of the Borgias, the Medicis, the Renes, the Ruggieris, and later, probably, that of Baron de Trenck, whose story has been so misused by modern drama and romance"-- 
"Were objects of art, madame, and nothing more," replied the count. "Do you suppose that the real savant addresses himself stupidly to the mere individual? By no means. Science loves eccentricities, leaps and bounds, trials of strength, fancies, if I may be allowed so to term them. Thus, for instance, the excellent Abbé Adelmonte, of whom I spoke just now, made in this way some marvellous experiments." 
"Really?" 
"Yes; I will mention one to you. He had a remarkably fine garden, full of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. From amongst these vegetables he selected the most simple--a cabbage, for instance. For three days he watered this cabbage with a distillation of arsenic; on the third, the cabbage began to droop and turn yellow. At that moment he cut it. In the eyes of everybody it seemed fit for table, and preserved its wholesome appearance. It was only poisoned to the Abbé Adelmonte. He then took the cabbage to the room where he had rabbits--for the Abbé Adelmonte had a collection of rabbits, cats, and guinea-pigs, fully as fine as his collection of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. Well, the Abbé Adelmonte took a rabbit, and made it eat a leaf of the cabbage. The rabbit died. What magistrate would find, or even venture to insinuate, anything against this? What procureur has ever ventured to draw up an accusation against M. Magendie or M. Flourens, in consequence of the rabbits, cats, and guinea-pigs they have killed?--not one. So, then, the rabbit dies, and justice takes no notice. This rabbit dead, the Abbé Adelmonte has its entrails taken out by his cook and thrown on the dunghill; on this dunghill is a hen, who, pecking these intestines, is in her turn taken ill, and dies next day. At the moment when she is struggling in the convulsions of death, a vulture is flying by (there are a good many vultures in Adelmonte's country); this bird darts on the dead fowl, and carries it away to a rock, where it dines off its prey. Three days afterwards, this poor vulture, which has been very much indisposed since that dinner, suddenly feels very giddy while flying aloft in the clouds, and falls heavily into a fish-pond. The pike, eels, and carp eat greedily always, as everybody knows--well, they feast on the vulture. Now suppose that next day, one of these eels, or pike, or carp, poisoned at the fourth remove, is served up at your table. Well, then, your guest will be poisoned at the fifth remove, and die, at the end of eight or ten days, of pains in the intestines, sickness, or abscess of the pylorus. The doctors open the body and say with an air of profound learning, 'The subject his died of a tumor on the liver, or of typhoid fever!'" 
"But," remarked Madame de Villefort, "all these circumstances which you link thus to one another may be broken by the least accident; the vulture may not see the fowl, or may fall a hundred yards from the fish-pond." 
"Ah, that is where the art comes in. To be a great chemist in the East, one must direct chance; and this is to be achieved."--Madame de Villefort was in deep thought, yet listened attentively. "But," she exclaimed, suddenly, "arsenic is indelible, indestructible; in whatsoever way it is absorbed, it will be found again in the body of the victim from the moment when it has been taken in sufficient quantity to cause death." 
"Precisely so," cried Monte Cristo--"precisely so; and this is what I said to my worthy Adelmonte. He reflected, smiled, and replied to me by a Sicilian proverb, which I believe is also a French proverb, 'My son, the world was not made in a day--but in seven. Return on Sunday.' On the Sunday following I did return to him. Instead of having watered his cabbage with arsenic, he had watered it this time with a solution of salts, having their basis in strychnine, strychnos colubrina, as the learned term it. Now, the cabbage had not the slightest appearance of disease in the world, and the rabbit had not the smallest distrust; yet, five minutes afterwards, the rabbit was dead. The fowl pecked at the rabbit, and the next day was a dead hen. This time we were the vultures; so we opened the bird, and this time all special symptoms had disappeared, there were only general symptoms. There was no peculiar indication in any organ--an excitement of the nervous system--that was it; a case of cerebral congestion--nothing more. The fowl had not been poisoned--she had died of apoplexy. Apoplexy is a rare disease among fowls, I believe, but very common among men." Madame de Villefort appeared more and more thoughtful. 
"It is very fortunate," she observed, "that such substances could only be prepared by chemists; otherwise, all the world would be poisoning each other." 
"By chemists and persons who have a taste for chemistry," said Monte Cristo carelessly. 
"And then," said Madame de Villefort, endeavoring by a struggle, and with effort, to get away from her thoughts, "however skilfully it is prepared, crime is always crime, and if it avoid human scrutiny, it does not escape the eye of God. The Orientals are stronger than we are in cases of conscience, and, very prudently, have no hell--that is the point." 
"Really, madame, this is a scruple which naturally must occur to a pure mind like yours, but which would easily yield before sound reasoning. The bad side of human thought will always be defined by the paradox of Jean Jacques Rousseau,--you remember,--the mandarin who is killed five hundred leagues off by raising the tip of the finger. Man's whole life passes in doing these things, and his intellect is exhausted by reflecting on them. You will find very few persons who will go and brutally thrust a knife in the heart of a fellow-creature, or will administer to him, in order to remove him from the surface of the globe on which we move with life and animation, that quantity of arsenic of which we just now talked. Such a thing is really out of rule--eccentric or stupid. To attain such a point, the blood must be heated to thirty-six degrees, the pulse be, at least, at ninety, and the feelings excited beyond the ordinary limit. But suppose one pass, as is permissible in philology, from the word itself to its softened synonym, then, instead of committing an ignoble assassination you make an 'elimination;' you merely and simply remove from your path the individual who is in your way, and that without shock or violence, without the display of the sufferings which, in the case of becoming a punishment, make a martyr of the victim, and a butcher, in every sense of the word, of him who inflicts them. Then there will be no blood, no groans, no convulsions, and above all, no consciousness of that horrid and compromising moment of accomplishing the act,--then one escapes the clutch of the human law, which says, 'Do not disturb society!' This is the mode in which they manage these things, and succeed in Eastern climes, where there are grave and phlegmatic persons who care very little for the questions of time in conjunctures of importance." 
"Yet conscience remains," remarked Madame de Villefort in an agitated voice, and with a stifled sigh. 
"Yes," answered Monte Cristo "happily, yes, conscience does remain; and if it did not, how wretched we should be! After every action requiring exertion, it is conscience that saves us, for it supplies us with a thousand good excuses, of which we alone are judges; and these reasons, howsoever excellent in producing sleep, would avail us but very little before a tribunal, when we were tried for our lives. Thus Richard III, for instance, was marvellously served by his conscience after the putting away of the two children of Edward IV; in fact, he could say, 'These two children of a cruel and persecuting king, who have inherited the vices of their father, which I alone could perceive in their juvenile propensities--these two children are impediments in my way of promoting the happiness of the English people, whose unhappiness they (the children) would infallibly have caused.' Thus was Lady Macbeth served by her conscience, when she sought to give her son, and not her husband (whatever Shakspeare may say), a throne. Ah, maternal love is a great virtue, a powerful motive--so powerful that it excuses a multitude of things, even if, after Duncan's death, Lady Macbeth had been at all pricked by her conscience." 
Madame de Villefort listened with avidity to these appalling maxims and horrible paradoxes, delivered by the count with that ironical simplicity which was peculiar to him. After a moment's silence, the lady inquired, "Do you know, my dear count," she said, "that you are a very terrible reasoner, and that you look at the world through a somewhat distempered medium? Have you really measured the world by scrutinies, or through alembics and crucibles? For you must indeed be a great chemist, and the elixir you administered to my son, which recalled him to life almost instantaneously"-- 
"Oh, do not place any reliance on that, madame; one drop of that elixir sufficed to recall life to a dying child, but three drops would have impelled the blood into his lungs in such a way as to have produced most violent palpitations; six would have suspended his respiration, and caused syncope more serious than that in which he was; ten would have destroyed him. You know, madame, how suddenly I snatched him from those phials which he so imprudently touched?" 
"Is it then so terrible a poison?" 
"Oh, no. In the first place, let us agree that the word poison does not exist, because in medicine use is made of the most violent poisons, which become, according as they are employed, most salutary remedies." 
"What, then, is it?" 
"A skilful preparation of my friend's the worthy Abbé Adelmonte, who taught me the use of it." 
"Oh," observed Madame de Villefort, "it must be an admirable anti-spasmodic." 
"Perfect, madame, as you have seen," replied the count; "and I frequently make use of it--with all possible prudence though, be it observed," he added with a smile of intelligence. 
"Most assuredly," responded Madame de Villefort in the same tone. "As for me, so nervous, and so subject to fainting fits, I should require a Doctor Adelmonte to invent for me some means of breathing freely and tranquillizing my mind, in the fear I have of dying some fine day of suffocation. In the meanwhile, as the thing is difficult to find in France, and your abbé is not probably disposed to make a journey to Paris on my account, I must continue to use Monsieur Planché's anti-spasmodics; and mint and Hoffman's drops are among my favorite remedies. Here are some lozenges which I have made up on purpose; they are compounded doubly strong." Monte Cristo opened the tortoise-shell box, which the lady presented to him, and inhaled the odor of the lozenges with the air of an amateur who thoroughly appreciated their composition. "They are indeed exquisite," he said; "but as they are necessarily submitted to the process of deglutition--a function which it is frequently impossible for a fainting person to accomplish--I prefer my own specific." 
"Undoubtedly, and so should I prefer it, after the effects I have seen produced; but of course it is a secret, and I am not so indiscreet as to ask it of you." 
"But I," said Monte Cristo, rising as he spoke--"I am gallant enough to offer it you." 
"How kind you are." 
"Only remember one thing--a small dose is a remedy, a large one is poison. One drop will restore life, as you have seen; five or six will inevitably kill, and in a way the more terrible inasmuch as, poured into a glass of wine, it would not in the slightest degree affect its flavor. But I say no more, madame; it is really as if I were prescribing for you." The clock struck half-past six, and a lady was announced, a friend of Madame de Villefort, who came to dine with her. 
"If I had had the honor of seeing you for the third or fourth time, count, instead of only for the second," said Madame de Villefort; "if I had had the honor of being your friend, instead of only having the happiness of being under an obligation to you, I should insist on detaining you to dinner, and not allow myself to be daunted by a first refusal." 
"A thousand thanks, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but I have an engagement which I cannot break. I have promised to escort to the Académie a Greek princess of my acquaintance who has never seen your grand opera, and who relies on me to conduct her thither." 
"Adieu, then, sir, and do not forget the prescription." 
"Ah, in truth, madame, to do that I must forget the hour's conversation I have had with you, which is indeed impossible." Monte Cristo bowed, and left the house. Madame de Villefort remained immersed in thought. "He is a very strange man," she said, "and in my opinion is himself the Adelmonte he talks about." As to Monte Cristo the result had surpassed his utmost expectations. "Good," said he, as he went away; "this is a fruitful soil, and I feel certain that the seed sown will not be cast on barren ground." Next morning, faithful to his promise, he sent the prescription requested.  
维尔福夫人客厅里的来宾真是基督山伯爵，他此次来的目的是回拜检察官的那次拜访的。当然很容易想象得到，一听到这个名字，全家人都顿时骚动起来。当仆人前来通报说伯爵光临的时候，维尔福夫人正独自在客厅里会客，她吩咐立刻把他的儿子带进来，以便再一次向伯爵道谢。爱德华很快便跑来了，倒并非服从他母亲的命令，也不是对伯爵有什么感谢的意思，纯粹是出于好奇心，因为最近几天以来，他不断地听人谈到这位大人物，所以很想找个机会来说几句话，捣点乱，以求博得他的母亲说：“噢，这个麻烦人的孩子！但请原谅他吧，他真是‘这样的’聪明。”经过一番惯常的寒暄之后，伯爵问起了维尔福先生。 
“我丈夫到国务总理那儿吃饭去了，”那年轻的太太回答说。“他刚刚去，我想他这次错过了和你聚谈的机会一定会感到很遗憾的。” 
伯爵到的时候，客厅里本来已有另外两位客人了，出于礼貌和好奇心，他们又适度地逗留了一会儿，那四只眼睛向伯爵凝视了一番，然后才起身告辞。 
“啊！你的姐姐瓦朗蒂娜在干什么？”维尔福夫人问爱德华，“叫人去喊她到这儿来，我想介绍她见见伯爵。” 
“那么说，您还有一个女儿了，夫人？”伯爵问道，“我想，一定非常年轻吧？” 
“她是维尔福先生的女儿，”那年轻的妻子答道，“是他的前妻生的，是一个长得很标致的大姑娘了。” 
“但有抑郁病。”小主人翁爱德华插嘴说道，他正在找一只美丽的长尾小鹦鹉尾巴上的羽毛，想把它拿来插在他的帽子上作花翎，那只栖在镀金架子上的鸟被拔得吱吱咕咕地乱叫。 
维尔福夫人只喊了一声，“不许多嘴，爱德华！”然后她又说道，“不过，这个小捣蛋鬼说得也差不多，他只是鹦鹉学舌而已，这句话他听我痛苦地说过不下一百遍了，因为虽然我们竭力想使维尔福小姐高兴，但她却天生抑郁成性，不说话，那常常会有损于她的美。她怎么还没来，爱德华，去看看是怎么回呀。”。 
“因为他们去找的地方不对，她根本不在那儿。” 
“他们到哪儿去找她啦？” 
“诺梯埃爷爷那儿。” 
“她不在那儿吗？” 
“不，不，不，不，不，她不在那儿！”爱德华唱歌似的回答说。 
“那她在哪儿呢？你要是知道，为什么不讲呢？” 
“她在那棵大栗子树底下哪。”那个被宠坏了的孩子一边回答，一边不顾他母亲的吆喝，仍拿苍蝇去喂鹦鹉，而鹦鹉对于这种游戏看来也很感兴趣。维尔福夫人伸手去拉铃，想叫她的侍女到刚才所说的那个地方去找瓦朗蒂娜，但这时候青年女郎却自己走进房间里来了，她的样子很沮丧，谁要是留心注意她的话，还可以看到她的眼睛流泪而仍有点红红的。 
我们总在匆匆地叙述，还没把瓦朗蒂娜向我们的读者正式介绍一下呢，她是一个十九岁的姑娘，身材高挑，姿容温雅，有一头光亮的褐色头发，深蓝色的眼睛和那种极其高贵的娇弱忧郁的神气，这种神气完全象她的母亲。她那洁白纤细的手指，她那珠圆玉润的颈项，她那时红时白的脸颊，使人一见，就觉得她的容貌就象那种诗意地自比为顾影自怜的天鹅的英国美女。她走进房来，看到她后母的旁边坐着那位闻名已久的客人，就大大方方地向他行了个礼甚至连眼皮都不曾低垂一下，其举止之雍容，更加引起了伯爵对她的注意。他站起身来回礼。 
“维尔福小姐，我的继女。”维尔福夫人对基督山道，她身子靠在沙发上，用手向瓦朗蒂娜挥了一下。 
“这位就是基督山伯爵阁下，中国国王，安南皇帝。”那小顽童狡猾地望着她姐姐说道。 
维尔福夫人这次是真的变了脸色，而且差一点就要怒斥这个名叫爱德华的家门瘟神了，但伯爵却正巧相反，他微笑了一下，露出很喜欢的样子望着那孩子，这使那母亲的心里又充满了喜悦和高兴。 
“夫人，”伯爵回答说，在谈话中时而望着维尔福夫人，时而望着瓦朗蒂娜，“我不是已经有幸见过您和小姐的了吗？这个念头已在我脑子里转了好一会儿了，小姐进来的时候，一看到她，我那混乱的记忆里又多了一线光明，请原谅我的记忆力差。” 
“我倒并不这么看，阁下，维尔福小姐是不太喜欢交际的，而且我们极少出门。”那年轻的太太说道。 
“那么，夫人，我不是在社交场合中遇到的小姐、您和这个可爱小家伙的了。况且我对巴黎社交界是完全不熟悉的，因为，我想我已经告诉过您，我到巴黎来才只有几天的功夫，不，或许您可以容我想一想——等一等！”伯爵用手扶住额头，象是聚精会神在思索似的。“不——是另外一个地方——不是这儿——是在——我不知道——但回想起来象是与某个宗教节日有关。记得那是个美好的天气，小姐手里拿着花，这个孩子正在一个花园里追逐一只美丽的孔雀，而您，夫人，则坐在一个什么藤子搭成的凉亭底下。请帮我想想看看，夫人，讲到这些时您的脑子里还没回想起某些往事吗？” 
“没有，真的，”维尔福夫人答道，“可是依我看，阁下，假如我曾在什么地方见过您，你的印象一定会深深地印在我的记忆里的。” 
“也许伯爵阁下是在意大利见过我们的吧。”瓦朗蒂娜胆怯地说道。 
“是的，在意大利——多半是在意大利，”基督山答道，“那么您到意大利去旅行过吗，小姐？” 
“是的，夫人和我在两年以前到那儿去过。医生怕我的肺不好，指定我们去呼吸那不勒斯的新鲜空气。我们曾路过博洛涅，比鲁沙和罗马。” 
“啊，对了，没错，小姐，”基督山大声说道，好象这些简单的提示已足以唤醒他的记忆了似的。是在比鲁沙，那天是天灵节，在波士蒂旅馆的花园里，我们碰巧相遇的——您，维尔福夫人，令郎，小姐和我，我现在记起来了我的确有幸见过你们的。” 
“关于比鲁沙，波士蒂旅馆，和您所指的那个节日我记得很清楚，阁下，”维尔福夫人说道，“但我可再也想不起什么别的来了，我很惭愧自己的记忆力太差，因为我真的记不得以前曾有幸见过您。” 
“这就怪了，我也记不起和您见过面的。”瓦朗蒂娜抬起她那双美丽的眼睛望着伯爵说道。 
“我可记得。”爱德华说道。 
“我来帮您回忆一下吧，夫人，”伯爵又说道，“那天的天气热得象火烧一样，您在那儿等马车，因为是节日，所以车子来晚了。小姐在花园的树荫底下散步，令郎去追赶那只鸟，后来就跑得不见了。” 
“我追到它啦，妈妈，你不记得了吗？”爱德华说道，“我在它的尾巴上还拔了三根毛呢。” 
“您，夫人，正如我所说的，是等在一个葡萄藤搭成的凉亭底下的，您不记得了吗？您坐在一张石凳上，当维尔福小姐和您的小儿子不在的时候，你曾和一个人谈了很长一段时间不是吗？” 
“是的。真的，是的，”那年轻太太回答说，脸变得通红，“我的确记得曾和一个身穿羊毛大氅的人讲过话，我记得他好象是一个医生。” 
“一点不错，夫人，那人就是我。当时我已在那家旅馆住了两星期，在那期间，我医好了我贴身跟班的寒热症和旅馆老板的黄疸病，所以真的有人称我是一个妙手回春的医生。我们谈了很长时间，夫人，谈到了各种问题，如比鲁杰诺［（一四四五—一五三二），意大利画家。——译注］，拉斐尔［（一四八三—一五二○），意大利画家。——译注］，各地的风俗习惯，和那著名的‘扎弗娜毒水［十七世纪时，意大利妇人托弗娜谋害邦地古斯国王的药水，相传无色、无味、无臭。——译注］’，我好象记得你还说过，有人告诉您，说比鲁沙有人保存着那种毒水的秘方呢。” 
“是的，不错，”维尔福夫人急忙回答说，神色有点不安的样子。“我现在记起来了。” 
“那次我们讨论到各种各样的问题，只是现在我记不全了，夫人，”伯爵十分平静地说道，“但后来您也象别人一样对我产生了点误解，和我商量到维尔福小姐的健康问题，这一点我却是记得很清楚的。” 
“是的，的确，阁下，您的确是一位医生，”维尔福夫人说道，“因为您治好了很多病人。” 
“这一点我可以借莫里和博马舍［（一八一八—一八九三），法国剧作家。——译注］的话来回答您，因为正如他们所说的：治好我的病人的，并不是我。至于我，我只能对您说，我对于药物学和各种自然科学曾作过很深的研究，但您知道，那只不过是一种业余的研究罢了。” 
这时时钟敲了六下。“现在已经六点钟了，”维尔福夫人显然很激动地说道。“凡兰蒂，你的爷爷是不是要吃饭了，你去看看好吗？” 
瓦朗蒂娜站起来向伯爵行了个礼，默默无言地离开了房间。 
“噢，夫人！”等瓦朗蒂娜离开房间以后，伯爵说道，“您是为了我才把维尔福小姐打发走的吗？” 
“决不是的，“那轻妇人急忙答道，”我们总是在这个时候给诺瓦蒂埃先生吃饭的，说来可怜，他吃饭也只是维持他那种悲愁的生活而已。阁下，您可能已经知道那老人可悲状况了吧？” 
“是的，夫人，维尔福先生对我谈起过。我好象记得那老人是个瘫子。” 
“唉，是呀！那可怜的老人全身都不能动弹，在这架人体机器里，只有脑子还可以活动一下，而那也只是象摇摇欲熄的一点灯火一样而已。请原谅我谈起了我们家庭里的不幸，先生，我打断了您的话啦，您刚才在告诉我，说您是一个高明的药物学家。” 
“不，夫人，我并没说自己达到了那种程度，”伯爵带笑回答说，“恰恰相反，我之所以要研究药物学，是因为我决定要住在东方，所以我很希望能学学国王米沙里旦司的榜样［米沙里旦司是公元前一世纪时小亚细亚地方邦图斯的国王，因怕别人用毒药药死他，自己常服毒药，逐渐加重毒药的份量，到后来虽吃大量毒药而不会中毒。——译注］。” 
“‘米沙里旦司，君临邦图斯，’”那小无赖一边说，一边从一本精美的画册上撕下了一张美丽的画片，“那个人每天早晨吃早餐的时候都要喝一杯烈性毒药。” 
“爱德华，你这顽皮孩子！”维尔福夫人从那顽童的手里夺过了那本残缺不全的书，大声说道，“你真叫人受不住啦，老是打扰大人的谈话。出去吧，到诺瓦蒂埃爷爷的房间里找你的姐姐瓦朗蒂娜去吧。” 
“画册。”爱德华说道。 
“什么？画册！” 
“我要那本画册。” 
“你干嘛要把图画撕下来？” 
“噢，我高兴这么做嘛。” 
“去吧，快去吧。” 
“我不去，除非你把那本画册给我。”那孩子说道，并按照他以往决不让步的习惯，赖皮地在一张圈椅上坐定下来。 
“拿去吧，别再来打扰我们了。”维尔福夫人说着，把那本画册给了爱德华，于是，那孩子就由他的母亲领着，向门口走去了。 
伯爵的目光一直跟着她。“我来看看，他出去以后，她关不关门。”他低声自语道。 
那孩子出去以后，维尔福夫人果然小心地把门关上了，伯爵表面上象是根本没去注意她似的，他以一种细察的目光向房间里环视了一下，那位年轻的太太走回到她的椅子边，又坐了下来。 
“请允许我说一句话，夫人，”伯爵用他那种假装得非常巧妙的慈爱的口吻说道：“您对那个可爱的孩子真是太严厉了一点。” 
“噢，有时候严厉是很必要的。”维尔福夫人用用一种真正母性的语气煞有介事地说道。 
“爱德华小主人刚才那句关于国王米沙里旦司的话，是尼颇士［（公元前—？），罗马历史家。——译注］的说的，”伯爵又说道，“从他这句引证话上来看，他的家庭教师对他没有疏忽，令郎真可谓是早熟啊。” 
“伯爵阁下，”做母亲的很高兴受到这样的恭维，答道，“他的天资的确很高，不管什么东西放到他面前，他一学就会。他只有一个缺点，就是有点任性，至于他刚才所讲的，您真相信米沙里旦司用过那种预防剂，而且那种预防剂的确很有效吗？” 
“我想是的，夫人，因为我——就是现在跟您讲话的我——也曾服用过它们，免得在那不勒斯，巴勒莫和士麦拿的时候被人毒死，也就是说，有三四次，要不是全靠了那种预防剂，”我一定早没命了。” 
“您的预防剂成功了吗？” 
“相当成功。” 
“是的，我现在记起来了。您在比鲁沙曾对我提到过这类事情。” 
“真的！我提到过吗？”伯爵带着一种巧装的惊愕的神色说道，“我实在是记不得了。” 
“我问过您毒药对于南方人和北方人是不是会产生同样的效力，而您回答说，北方人的脾性冷淡怠惰，南方人的性格热烈活泼，他们对于毒药的感受性是不一样的。” 
“的确如此，”基督山说道。“我曾目睹过俄国人吃一种植物素，吃了以后显然毫无妨害，但假如是一个那不勒斯人或是一个阿拉伯人，吃下去那一定会丧命的。” 
“您真的相信，我们比东方人容易见效，在我们这种多雾多雨的地带，一个人要使他自己逐渐习惯于吸收毒药，比那些热带的人容易一些吗？” 
“当然罗，同时也必须懂得，一个人只有亲自用惯了那种毒药，才能不被那种毒药所害。” 
“是的，这我懂的。只是您怎样才能用惯呢？或说得更确切些，您是怎样用惯的呢？” 
“噢，那非常容易。假如您事先知道会用什么毒药来谋害您，假如那毒药，譬如说，是木鳖精…” 
“木鳖精是从番木鳖的皮和果实中提炼出来的那种东西对吗？”维尔福夫人问道。 
“一点不错，夫人，”基督山答道，“我发觉我实在没多有少可以教您的了。请允许我恭贺您的学识丰富，这种知识在太太们当中是极少有人知道的。” 
“噢，我是知道的，”维尔福夫人说道，“我对于神秘科学非常感兴趣，它们象诗歌一样的需要想象力，又象一个代数方程式似的可以还原。请您说下去吧，您所说的我觉得有趣极了。” 
“好的，”基督山答道，“那么，假定这种毒药是木鳖精，您在第一天吃一克，第二天吃两克，如此类推。好，到了第十天，您可以吃十克了，到第二十天，又了一倍，您可以吃二十克了。也就是说，这服药您吃了可以毫无妨碍了，但要是没有经过这种预防步骤的人吃了，却是非常危险的。好了，那么，满一个月的时候，您要是和别人同喝一只水瓶里的毒药水，您可以把那个人毒死，而您自己同时虽然也喝了这种水，但除了微微觉得有点不舒服以外，决不会觉察到这瓶水里混有任何毒质的。” 
“您知道还有任何其他的抗毒剂吗？” 
“我不知道了。” 
“我常常读好多遍米沙里旦司的历史。”维尔福夫人用一种沉思的门吻说道，“我始终认为那只过是荒唐之谈罢了。” 
“不，夫人，和大多数历史家所说的相反，这件事是真的。但是夫人您告诉我的，哦，您问我的这件事，我看这决非是个偶然的问题，因为两年以前您就曾问过我这个同样的问题，而且还说，米沙里旦司的历史已在您脑子里盘旋了很长一段时间了。” 
“不错，阁下。我年轻的时候最喜爱的两门功课就是植物学和矿物学。后来，我又知道，在东方各国，草药的使用常常可以解释一个民族的全部历史和个人的整个生涯，正如各种花可以说明它们的情思一样。当时，我后悔我不是个男人，否则，我倒也许可以成为弗赖米尔［（一三三○—一四一八），法国炼金术家。——译注］，芳丹拿［（一七三○—一八○五），意大利生理学家。——译注］，或卡巴尼斯。” 
“还有一点，夫人，”基督山说道，“东方人并不象米沙里旦司那样只限于用毒药来做护心镜，他们也把它当作匕首来用的。科学在他们的手里不仅仅是一件防御性武器，而更常常是一种进攻性武器。前者用来进攻他们肉体上的一切痛苦，后者用来进攻他们所有的敌人。有了鸦片，颠茄，番木鳖，蛇木根，樱桂皮，他们就可以使那些清醒的人一齐睡去。埃及，土耳其，希腊的女人，就是你们在此称之为‘好女人’的那些人，她们都知道该如何在药物学上使医生们吓得目瞪口呆或在心理学上惊倒忏悔师们。” 
“真的！”维尔福夫人说道，在这段谈话里，她的眼睛时不时地闪耀出一种奇异的火花。 
“哦，的确是真的！夫人，”基督山继续说道，“一种植物能产生爱，但那种植物也能造成死。一种药物能在你面前打开天堂之门，那种药物同样也能把一个人推入地狱，东方的秘剧就这样开始和结束的！每一种东西都有许多的阴暗面，正如人类的肉体和精神变幻无常，各有其特征一样。我还可以更进一步地说，那些化学家是有能力把药物和病症根据他的所好或他想复仇的愿望加以适当的配合的。” 
“但是，阁下，”那位太太说道，“您曾在那些东方世界里生活过一段时期，那些地方可真象是《一千零一夜》里的故事一样的神奇。照这样讲，那儿的人可以很轻易地被人除掉，这可实在是盖伦特先生［（一六四六—一七一五），《一千零一夜》的法译者。——译注］时代的巴格达和巴斯拉了。苏丹和维齐［古代阿拉伯国家的国王叫苏丹，大臣叫维齐。——译注］统治着那些年代里，他们也有我们法国目前所谓的政府这一类的东西，但实际上他们却只是回教的教主和祭师，他们不但可以饶恕一个毒人犯，而且要是他犯罪的技术很高超的话，甚至可以封他做首相的，遇到这种情形，他们还要把全部故事用金字注载下来，借以消磨他们闲散无聊的时光。” 
“决不是这样的，夫人，东方已不再有那种异想天开的事情了。那儿现在也有了警察，法官，检察长和地方官，不过名称和服装不同罢了。他们尽可能地以最适当的方式处置他们的犯人，有绞刑，杀头和刺刑。但有些犯人却能象那些刁滑的地痞流氓一样设法逃脱法律的制裁，凭着他们巧妙的计谋继续做贪赃枉法的事。在我们的人社会里，一个傻瓜要是心里怀有仇恨或动了贪念，想除掉一个仇人或除去一个近亲，他就会径自跑到杂货店或药房里，借口老鼠吵得他无法睡觉，要买五六克砒霜，他还会捏造一个假名字，而那却比真名字更容易被识破，假如他真是一个狡猾的家伙，他就会分别到五六家不同的药房或杂货店里去买，因此，当追踪线索的时候，就更容易了五六倍。然后，当他弄到他想要的东西以后，他就莽莽撞撞地给他的仇人或近亲吃一付砒霜，其份量之重，就是古代的巨象或恐龙吃了也会五脏崩裂的，就这样毫无意义地使他的受害者在那里呻吟，以致惊动了四邻。于是他们便去找一位医生来，医生剖开死者的身体，从肠胃里把砒霜刮出来装在一只匙羹里。第二天，一百家报纸上都会刊登出这件事来，并登出被害人和凶手的名字。当天傍晚，杂货商或药商就会来说：‘被告的砒霜是我卖给他的。’他们绝不会认错的，一认就认出了那个犯罪的顾客。于是那个愚蠢的犯人就被扣押起来，关进了牢里，经过审问、对质、挨骂、宣判，然后在麻绳或钢刀上了却了残生，假如她是一个很有地位的女人，他们就会判处她无期徒刑。你们北方人以为这样就是懂得药物学了，夫人。应当承认，德律［德律是一毒害人的凶犯，一七七七年在巴黎处死。——译注］的技巧更高明一些。” 
“您还想怎么样呢，阁下？”那位太太笑着回答说，“我们只能是尽力罢了。全世界的人并不是个个都能有梅迪契［法国国王亨利二世的王后。——译注］或布琪亚那神秘方的呀。” 
“现在，”伯爵耸了耸肩回答道，“让我来告诉您这种蠢事的起因好吗？那是因为在你们的戏院里，至少，我可以从我看过的几个剧中作出这样的判断，他们看到舞台上的人吞下一个小瓶子里的东西或吮了一下一只戒指，就立刻倒下去死了。五分钟以后，大幕落下来，观众也就散了。他们是不知道以后的事情的。他们既没有看到那佩着绶带的警官，也没有看见那带着四个兵的警长，于是，很多愚人就相信事情的确就是那样的。但离法国稍远一点的地方，到阿莱普或开罗，或是只要到那不勒斯或罗马，您在街上看到有一个人经过您的身旁时，那个人腰杆笔直，面带微笑，肤色红润，可是，假如阿斯魔狄思［犹太教中的魔王，有先见之明。——译注］在您身边的话，他就会说：‘那个人在三周以前中了毒，一个月之内就会死的。’” 
“那么，”‘维尔福夫人说道，“那著名的托弗娜毒水的秘密又被他们发现啦，我在比鲁沙听说它已经失传了呀。” 
“哦，真的，人类有哪样东西是永远失传了的呢？艺术是能移动的，它在世界上兜了一个圈子。事物只不过改变了它们的名字而已，而那些凡夫俗子便不再去跟踪它们了，如此而已，但结果总是一样的。一种毒药只对一种器官发生作用——有的侵害脑子，有的侵害肠子。警如说，某种毒药可以使人咳嗽，咳嗽又能使气管发炎，或引起在医学书上讲的另一种疾病，那种病，本来是决不会致命的，假如不让那些天真的医生用那些药物使病情变成致命的话。这大都是些不高明的药物学家，他们随心所欲，不是把病人治好了就是把病人治死了。而病人的死又看来十分自然，而对于他，法律是不会去过问的，这种事是我认识的一位可怕的药物学家告诉我的，就是那位可敬的阿特尔蒙神甫，他住在西西里，对他的国家的这种现象曾作过深刻的研究。” 
“这种事显很可怕，但却极其有趣，”那青年女人说道，她听得出神，身体一动都不动。“我想，我必须承认，这些传说都是中世纪的发明吧。” 
“是的，那是毫无疑问的，但在我们当今这个时代却更进步了。假如各种鼓励的方式不能使社会日趋完美，那么时间、奖励、勋章、十字勋章和蒙松奖章还有什么用呢？人除非能学得象上帝那样既能破坏又能创造，否则他决称不上为完美，他的确知道如何去破坏，但这只不过是全部路程的一半而已。” 
“那么说，”维尔福夫人接着说道，她老是把话头拉回到她的题目上来，“近代戏剧和传奇小说中把故事都完全弄错了，凡是布琪亚，梅迪契，罗吉里斯，以及后来德邻克男爵所用的毒药” 
“都是一种艺术，夫人，”伯爵答道。“难道您以为真正的大科学家竟会蠢得象常人一样吗？决不会的。科学是有怪癖，幻想，喜欢跳跃，奔腾和试验力量的，假如我可以用这些词来形容它们的话。举个例子来说吧，那位杰出的阿特尔蒙神甫，就是我刚才对您提到的那位，他在这方面就作过一些神奇的实验。” 
“真的！” 
“是的，我可以讲一件给您听听。他有一个极好的花园，里面种满了蔬菜，花草和果树。在这些蔬菜之中，他挑选那最简单的，譬如一棵椰菜。然后他就用砒霜的蒸溜水浇灌这棵椰菜，一连浇了三天，到第二天时，那椰菜开始萎黄了。于是他把它割下来。在别人看来，它的外表是很完好的，似乎是适宜于上餐桌的。只有阿特尔蒙神甫知道它已中了毒。于是他拿着那棵椰菜到了兔房里。因为阿特尔蒙神甫象搜集蔬菜花果一样，也搜集兔子、猫和豚鼠。好了，阿特尔蒙神甫捉出了一只兔子，喂了它一片椰菜叶，那只兔子便死了。对于这件事，一位位法官会出来反对，或甚至暗示其中有什么不对的地方呢？哪位检察官曾因为兔子、猫或豚鼠的被杀而控告过一位生物学家呢？从来没有。所以，那只兔子虽然死了，但法律并没有给以重视。这只兔子死了以后，阿特尔蒙神甫就叫他的厨子把它的内脏挖出来，扔在了垃圾堆里，这堆垃圾上有一只母鸡，它啄食了这些内脏，于是也生起病来，第二天也死了。而当它正在作临死挣扎的时候，有一只兀鹰飞了过来，阿特尔蒙所住的那个地方兀鹰是很多的，这只鸟冲下来抓住了死鸡，把它带到了一块岩石上，就在那儿把它的猎物给吃了。这只可怜的兀鹰自从吃过这顿饭以后，就觉得很不舒服，三天之后，正当它在云端里高飞的时候，突然觉得剧烈的晕眩起来，于是就无力地跌进了一个鱼塘里。谁都知道，那些梭子鱼、鳗鱼和鲤鱼吃东西时是很贪婪的，它们把那只兀鹰大嚼了一顿。于是这些梭子鱼、鳗鱼和鲤鱼便是第四轮中毒，哦，假若第二天其中的一条上了您的餐桌，那么，您的客人就会第五轮中毒，在八至十天以后，他就会因肠胃疼痛或幽门溃烂而死。医生剖开尸体，说道，‘这个人是肝脏溃烂受伤致死的！’” 
“但是”维尔福夫人说道，“您所说的这种情形是一种环环相扣的情形，只要略微发生一点意外，整个链环就会被打断，当时也许并没有兀鹰飞过，其中一环也许会落在鱼塘以外一百码的某个地方。” 
“啊，那就是天意了。在东方，要想成为一个伟大的药物学家，就必须能计算阴阳，这也是得学会的。” 
维尔福夫人出现了一副深思的样子，可是
Chapter 53 Robert le Diable
 THE PRETEXT of an opera engagement was so much the more feasible, as there chanced to be on that very night a more than ordinary attraction at the Académie Royale. Levasseur, who had been suffering under severe illness, made his reappearance in the character of Bertrand, and, as usual, the announcement of the most admired production of the favorite composer of the day had attracted a brilliant and fashionable audience. Morcerf, like most other young men of rank and fortune, had his orchestra stall, with the certainty of always finding a seat in at least a dozen of the principal boxes occupied by persons of his acquaintance; he had, moreover, his right of entry into the omnibus box. Chateau-Renaud rented a stall beside his own, while Beauchamp, as a journalist, had unlimited range all over the theatre. It happened that on this particular night the minister's box was placed at the disposal of Lucien Debray, who offered it to the Comte de Morcerf, who again, upon his mother's rejection of it, sent it to Danglars, with an intimation that he should probably do himself the honor of joining the baroness and her daughter during the evening, in the event of their accepting the box in question. The ladies received the offer with too much pleasure to dream of a refusal. To no class of persons is the presentation of a gratuitous opera-box more acceptable than to the wealthy millionaire, who still hugs economy while boasting of carrying a king's ransom in his waistcoat pocket. 
Danglars had, however, protested against showing himself in a ministerial box, declaring that his political principles, and his parliamentary position as member of the opposition party would not permit him so to commit himself; the baroness had, therefore, despatched a note to Lucien Debray, bidding him call for them, it being wholly impossible for her to go alone with Eugénie to the opera. There is no gainsaying the fact that a very unfavorable construction would have been put upon the circumstance if the two women had gone without escort, while the addition of a third, in the person of her mother's admitted lover, enabled Mademoiselle Danglars to defy malice and ill-nature. One must take the world as one finds it. 
The curtain rose, as usual, to an almost empty house, it being one of the absurdities of Parisian fashion never to appear at the opera until after the beginning of the performance, so that the first act is generally played without the slightest attention being paid to it, that part of the audience already assembled being too much occupied in observing the fresh arrivals, while nothing is heard but the noise of opening and shutting doors, and the buzz of conversation. 
"Surely," said Albert, as the door of a box on the first circle opened, "that must be the Countess G----." 
"And who is the Countess G----?" inquired Chateau-Renaud. 
"What a question! Now, do you know, baron, I have a great mind to pick a quarrel with you for asking it; as if all the world did not know who the Countess G----was." 
"Ah, to be sure," replied Chateau-Renaud; "the lovely Venetian, is it not?" 
"Herself." At this moment the countess perceived Albert, and returned his salutation with a smile. "You know her, it seems?" said Chateau-Renaud. 
"Franz introduced me to her at Rome," replied Albert. 
"Well, then, will you do as much for me in Paris as Franz did for you in Rome?" 
"With pleasure." 
There was a cry of "Shut up!" from the audience. This manifestation on the part of the spectators of their wish to be allowed to hear the music, produced not the slightest effect on the two young men, who continued their conversation. "The countess was present at the races in the Champ-de-Mars," said Chateau-Renaud. 
"To-day?" 
"Yes." 
"Bless me, I quite forgot the races. Did you bet?" 
"Oh, merely a paltry fifty louis." 
"And who was the winner?" 
"Nautilus. I staked on him." 
"But there were three races, were there not?" 
"Yes; there was the prize given by the Jockey Club--a gold cup, you know--and a very singular circumstance occurred about that race." 
"What was it?" 
"Oh, shut up!" again interposed some of the audience. 
"Why, it was won by a horse and rider utterly unknown on the course." 
"Is that possible?" 
"True as day. The fact was, nobody had observed a horse entered by the name of Vampa, or that of a jockey styled Job, when, at the last moment, a splendid roan, mounted by a jockey about as big as your fist, presented themselves at the starting-post. They were obliged to stuff at least twenty pounds weight of shot in the small rider's pockets, to make him weight; but with all that he outstripped Ariel and Barbare, against whom he ran, by at least three whole lengths." 
"And was it not found out at last to whom the horse and jockey belonged?" 
"No." 
"You say that the horse was entered under the name of Vampa?" 
"Exactly; that was the title." 
"Then," answered Albert, "I am better informed than you are, and know who the owner of that horse was." 
"Shut up, there!" cried the pit in chorus. And this time the tone and manner in which the command was given, betokened such growing hostility that the two young men perceived, for the first time, that the mandate was addressed to them. Leisurely turning round, they calmly scrutinized the various countenances around them, as though demanding some one person who would take upon himself the responsibility of what they deemed excessive impertinence; but as no one responded to the challenge, the friends turned again to the front of the theatre, and affected to busy themselves with the stage. At this moment the door of the minister's box opened, and Madame Danglars, accompanied by her daughter, entered, escorted by Lucien Debray, who assiduously conducted them to their seats. 
"Ha, ha," said Chateau-Renaud, "here comes some friends of yours, viscount! What are you looking at there? don't you see they are trying to catch your eye?" Albert turned round, just in time to receive a gracious wave of the fan from the baroness; as for Mademoiselle Eugénie, she scarcely vouchsafed to waste the glances of her large black eyes even upon the business of the stage. "I tell you what, my dear fellow," said Chateau-Renaud, "I cannot imagine what objection you can possibly have to Mademoiselle Danglars--that is, setting aside her want of ancestry and somewhat inferior rank, which by the way I don't think you care very much about. Now, barring all that, I mean to say she is a deuced fine girl!" 
"Handsome, certainly," replied Albert, "but not to my taste, which I confess, inclines to something softer, gentler, and more feminine." 
"Ah, well," exclaimed Chateau-Renaud, who because he had seen his thirtieth summer fancied himself duly warranted in assuming a sort of paternal air with his more youthful friend, "you young people are never satisfied; why, what would you have more? your parents have chosen you a bride built on the model of Diana, the huntress, and yet you are not content." 
"No, for that very resemblance affrights me; I should have liked something more in the manner of the Venus of Milo or Capua; but this chase-loving Diana continually surrounded by her nymphs gives me a sort of alarm lest she should some day bring on me the fate of Act?on." 
And, indeed, it required but one glance at Mademoiselle Danglars to comprehend the justness of Morcerf's remark--she was beautiful, but her beauty was of too marked and decided a character to please a fastidious taste; her hair was raven black, but its natural waves seemed somewhat rebellious; her eyes, of the same color as her hair, were surmounted by well-arched brows, whose great defect, however, consisted in an almost habitual frown, while her whole physiognomy wore that expression of firmness and decision so little in accordance with the gentler attributes of her sex--her nose was precisely what a sculptor would have chosen for a chiselled Juno. Her mouth, which might have been found fault with as too large, displayed teeth of pearly whiteness, rendered still more conspicuous by the brilliant carmine of her lips, contrasting vividly with her naturally pale complexion. But that which completed the almost masculine look Morcerf found so little to his taste, was a dark mole, of much larger dimensions than these freaks of nature generally are, placed just at the corner of her mouth; and the effect tended to increase the expression of self-dependence that characterized her countenance. The rest of Mademoiselle Eugénie's person was in perfect keeping with the head just described; she, indeed, reminded one of Diana, as Chateau-Renaud observed, but her bearing was more haughty and resolute. As regarded her attainments, the only fault to be found with them was the same that a fastidious connoisseur might have found with her beauty, that they were somewhat too erudite and masculine for so young a person. She was a perfect linguist, a first-rate artist, wrote poetry, and composed music; to the study of the latter she professed to be entirely devoted, following it with an indefatigable perseverance, assisted by a schoolfellow,--a young woman without fortune whose talent promised to develop into remarkable powers as a singer. It was rumored that she was an object of almost paternal interest to one of the principal composers of the day, who excited her to spare no pains in the cultivation of her voice, which might hereafter prove a source of wealth and independence. But this counsel effectually decided Mademoiselle Danglars never to commit herself by being seen in public with one destined for a theatrical life; and acting upon this principle, the banker's daughter, though perfectly willing to allow Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly (that was the name of the young virtuosa) to practice with her through the day, took especial care not to be seen in her company. Still, though not actually received at the Hotel Danglars in the light of an acknowledged friend, Louise was treated with far more kindness and consideration than is usually bestowed on a governess. 
The curtain fell almost immediately after the entrance of Madame Danglars into her box, the band quitted the orchestra for the accustomed half-hour's interval allowed between the acts, and the audience were left at liberty to promenade the salon or lobbies, or to pay and receive visits in their respective boxes. Morcerf and Chateau-Renaud were amongst the first to avail themselves of this permission. For an instant the idea struck Madame Danglars that this eagerness on the part of the young viscount arose from his impatience to join her party, and she whispered her expectations to her daughter, that Albert was hurrying to pay his respects to them. Mademoiselle Eugénie, however, merely returned a dissenting movement of the head, while, with a cold smile, she directed the attention of her mother to an opposite box on the first circle, in which sat the Countess G----, and where Morcerf had just made his appearance. "So we meet again, my travelling friend, do we?" cried the countess, extending her hand to him with all the warmth and cordiality of an old acquaintance; "it was really very good of you to recognize me so quickly, and still more so to bestow your first visit on me." 
"Be assured," replied Albert, "that if I had been aware of your arrival in Paris, and had known your address, I should have paid my respects to you before this. Allow me to introduce my friend, Baron de Chateau-Renaud, one of the few true gentlemen now to be found in France, and from whom I have just learned that you were a spectator of the races in the Champ-de-Mars, yesterday." Chateau-Renaud bowed to the countess. 
"So you were at the races, baron?" inquired the countess eagerly. 
"Yes, madame." 
"Well, then," pursued Madame G----with considerable animation, "you can probably tell me who won the Jockey Club stakes?" 
"I am sorry to say I cannot," replied the baron; "and I was just asking the same question of Albert." 
"Are you very anxious to know, countess?" asked Albert. 
"To know what?" 
"The name of the owner of the winning horse?" 
"Excessively; only imagine--but do tell me, viscount, whether you really are acquainted with it or no?" 
"I beg your pardon, madame, but you were about to relate some story, were you not? You said, 'only imagine,'--and then paused. Pray continue." 
"Well, then, listen. You must know I felt so interested in the splendid roan horse, with his elegant little rider, so tastefully dressed in a pink satin jacket and cap, that I could not help praying for their success with as much earnestness as though the half of my fortune were at stake; and when I saw them outstrip all the others, and come to the winning-post in such gallant style, I actually clapped my hands with joy. Imagine my surprise, when, upon returning home, the first object I met on the staircase was the identical jockey in the pink jacket! I concluded that, by some singular chance, the owner of the winning horse must live in the same hotel as myself; but, as I entered my apartments, I beheld the very gold cup awarded as a prize to the unknown horse and rider. Inside the cup was a small piece of paper, on which were written these words--'From Lord Ruthven to Countess G----.'" 
"Precisely; I was sure of it," said Morcerf. 
"Sure of what?" 
"That the owner of the horse was Lord Ruthven himself." 
"What Lord Ruthven do you mean?" 
"Why, our Lord Ruthven--the Vampire of the Salle Argentino!" 
"Is it possible?" exclaimed the countess; "is he here in Paris?" 
"To be sure,--why not?" 
"And you visit him?--meet him at your own house and elsewhere?" 
"I assure you he is my most intimate friend, and M. de Chateau-Renaud has also the honor of his acquaintance." 
"But why are you so sure of his being the winner of the Jockey Club prize?" 
"Was not the winning horse entered by the name of Vampa?" 
"What of that?" 
"Why, do you not recollect the name of the celebrated bandit by whom I was made prisoner?" 
"Oh, yes." 
"And from whose hands the count extricated me in so wonderful a manner?" 
"To be sure, I remember it all now." 
"He called himself Vampa. You see. it's evident where the count got the name." 
"But what could have been his motive for sending the cup to me?" 
"In the first place, because I had spoken much of you to him, as you may believe; and in the second, because he delighted to see a countrywoman take so lively an interest in his success." 
"I trust and hope you never repeated to the count all the foolish remarks we used to make about him?" 
"I should not like to affirm upon oath that I have not. Besides, his presenting you the cup under the name of Lord Ruthven"-- 
"Oh, but that is dreadful! Why, the man must owe me a fearful grudge." 
"Does his action appear like that of an enemy?" 
"No; certainly not." 
"Well, then"-- 
"And so he is in Paris?" 
"Yes." 
"And what effect does he produce?" 
"Why," said Albert, "he was talked about for a week; then the coronation of the queen of England took place, followed by the theft of Mademoiselle Mars's diamonds; and so people talked of something else." 
"My good fellow," said Chateau-Renaud, "the count is your friend and you treat him accordingly. Do not believe what Albert is telling you, countess; so far from the sensation excited in the Parisian circles by the appearance of the Count of Monte Cristo having abated, I take upon myself to declare that it is as strong as ever. His first astounding act upon coming amongst us was to present a pair of horses, worth 32,000 francs, to Madame Danglars; his second, the almost miraculous preservation of Madame de Villefort's life; now it seems that he has carried off the prize awarded by the Jockey Club. I therefore maintain, in spite of Morcerf, that not only is the count the object of interest at this present moment, but also that he will continue to be so for a month longer if he pleases to exhibit an eccentricity of conduct which, after all, may be his ordinary mode of existence." 
"Perhaps you are right," said Morcerf; "meanwhile, who is in the Russian ambassador's box?" 
"Which box do you mean?" asked the countess. 
"The one between the pillars on the first tier--it seems to have been fitted up entirely afresh." 
"Did you observe any one during the first act?" asked Chateau-Renaud. 
"Where?" 
"In that box." 
"No," replied the countess, "it was certainly empty during the first act;" then, resuming the subject of their previous conversation, she said, "And so you really believe it was your mysterious Count of Monte Cristo that gained the prize?" 
"I am sure of it." 
"And who afterwards sent the cup to me?" 
"Undoubtedly." 
"But I don't know him," said the countess; "I have a great mind to return it." 
"Do no such thing, I beg of you; he would only send you another, formed of a magnificent sapphire, or hollowed out of a gigantic ruby. It is his way, and you must take him as you find him." At this moment the bell rang to announce the drawing up of the curtain for the second act. Albert rose to return to his place. "Shall I see you again?" asked the countess. "At the end of the next act, with your permission, I will come and inquire whether there is anything I can do for you in Paris?" 
"Pray take notice," said the countess, "that my present residence is 22 Rue de Rivoli, and that I am at home to my friends every Saturday evening. So now, you are both forewarned." The young men bowed, and quitted the box. Upon reaching their stalls, they found the whole of the audience in the parterre standing up and directing their gaze towards the box formerly possessed by the Russian ambassador. A man of from thirty-five to forty years of age, dressed in deep black, had just entered, accompanied by a young woman dressed after the Eastern style. The lady was surpassingly beautiful, while the rich magnificence of her attire drew all eyes upon her. "Hullo," said Albert; "it is Monte Cristo and his Greek!" 
The strangers were, indeed, no other than the count and Haidée. In a few moments the young girl had attracted the attention of the whole house, and even the occupants of the boxes leaned forward to scrutinize her magnificent diamonds. The second act passed away during one continued buzz of voices--one deep whisper--intimating that some great and universally interesting event had occurred; all eyes, all thoughts, were occupied with the young and beautiful woman, whose gorgeous apparel and splendid jewels made a most extraordinary spectacle. Upon this occasion an unmistakable sign from Madame Danglars intimated her desire to see Albert in her box directly the curtain fell on the second act, and neither the politeness nor good taste of Morcerf would permit his neglecting an invitation so unequivocally given. At the close of the act he therefore went to the baroness. Having bowed to the two ladies, he extended his hand to Debray. By the baroness he was most graciously welcomed, while Eugénie received him with her accustomed coldness. 
"My dear fellow," said Debray, "you have come in the nick of time. There is madame overwhelming me with questions respecting the count; she insists upon it that I can tell her his birth, education, and parentage, where he came from, and whither he is going. Being no disciple of Cagliostro, I was wholly unable to do this; so, by way of getting out of the scrape, I said, 'Ask Morcerf; he has got the whole history of his beloved Monte Cristo at his fingers' ends;' whereupon the baroness signified her desire to see you." 
"Is it not almost incredible," said Madame Danglars, "that a person having at least half a million of secret-service money at his command, should possess so little information?" 
"Let me assure you, madame," said Lucien, "that had I really the sum you mention at my disposal, I would employ it more profitably than in troubling myself to obtain particulars respecting the Count of Monte Cristo, whose only merit in my eyes consists in his being twice as rich as a nabob. However, I have turned the business over to Morcerf, so pray settle it with him as may be most agreeable to you; for my own part, I care nothing about the count or his mysterious doings." 
"I am very sure no nabob would have sent me a pair of horses worth 32,000 francs, wearing on their heads four diamonds valued at 5,000 francs each." 
"He seems to have a mania for diamonds," said Morcerf, smiling, "and I verily believe that, like Potemkin, he keeps his pockets filled, for the sake of strewing them along the road, as Tom Thumb did his flint stones." 
"Perhaps he has discovered some mine," said Madame Danglars. "I suppose you know he has an order for unlimited credit on the baron's banking establishment?" 
"I was not aware of it," replied Albert, "but I can readily believe it." 
"And, further, that he stated to M. Danglars his intention of only staying a year in Paris, during which time he proposed to spend six millions. 
"He must be the Shah of Persia, travelling incog." 
"Have you noticed the remarkable beauty of the young woman, M. Lucien?" inquired Eugénie. 
"I really never met with one woman so ready to do justice to the charms of another as yourself," responded Lucien, raising his lorgnette to his eye. "A most lovely creature, upon my soul!" was his verdict. 
"Who is this young person, M. de Morcerf?" inquired Eugénie; "does anybody know?" 
"Mademoiselle," said Albert, replying to this direct appeal, "I can give you very exact information on that subject, as well as on most points relative to the mysterious person of whom we are now conversing--the young woman is a Greek." 
"So I should suppose by her dress; if you know no more than that, every one here is as well-informed as yourself." 
"I am extremely sorry you find me so ignorant a cicerone," replied Morcerf, "but I am reluctantly obliged to confess, I have nothing further to communicate--yes, stay, I do know one thing more, namely, that she is a musician, for one day when I chanced to be breakfasting with the count, I heard the sound of a guzla--it is impossible that it could have been touched by any other finger than her own." 
"Then your count entertains visitors, does he?" asked Madame Danglars. 
"Indeed he does, and in a most lavish manner, I can assure you." 
"I must try and persuade M. Danglars to invite him to a ball or dinner, or something of the sort, that he may be compelled to ask us in return." 
"What," said Debray, laughing; "do you really mean you would go to his house?" 
"Why not? my husband could accompany me." 
"But do you know this mysterious count is a bachelor?" 
"You have ample proof to the contrary, if you look opposite," said the baroness, as she laughingly pointed to the beautiful Greek. 
"No, no!" exclaimed Debray; "that girl is not his wife: he told us himself she was his slave. Do you not recollect, Morcerf, his telling us so at your breakfast?" 
"Well, then," said the baroness, "if slave she be, she has all the air and manner of a princess." 
"Of the Arabian Nights?" 
"If you like; but tell me, my dear Lucien, what it is that constitutes a princess. Why, diamonds--and she is covered with them." 
"To me she seems overloaded," observed Eugénie; "she would look far better if she wore fewer, and we should then be able to see her finely formed throat and wrists." 
"See how the artist peeps out!" exclaimed Madame Danglars. "My poor Eugénie, you must conceal your passion for the fine arts." 
"I admire all that is beautiful," returned the young lady. 
"What do you think of the count?" inquired Debray; "he is not much amiss, according to my ideas of good looks." 
"The count," repeated Eugénie, as though it had not occurred to her to observe him sooner; "the count?--oh, he is so dreadfully pale." 
"I quite agree with you," said Morcerf; "and the secret of that very pallor is what we want to find out. The Countess G----insists upon it that he is a vampire." 
"Then the Countess G----has returned to Paris, has she?" inquired the baroness. 
"Is that she, mamma?" asked Eugénie; "almost opposite to us, with that profusion of beautiful light hair?" 
"Yes," said Madame Danglars, "that is she. Shall I tell you what you ought to do, Morcerf?" 
"Command me, madame." 
"Well, then, you should go and bring your Count of Monte Cristo to us." 
"What for?" asked Eugénie. 
"What for? Why, to converse with him, of course. Have you really no desire to meet him?" 
"None whatever," replied Eugénie. 
"Strange child," murmured the baroness. 
"He will very probably come of his own accord," said Morcerf. "There; do you see, madame, he recognizes you, and bows." The baroness returned the salute in the most smiling and graceful manner. 
"Well," said Morcerf, "I may as well be magnanimous, and tear myself away to forward your wishes. Adieu; I will go and try if there are any means of speaking to him." 
"Go straight to his box; that will be the simplest plan." 
"But I have never been presented." 
"Presented to whom?" 
"To the beautiful Greek." 
"You say she is only a slave?" 
"While you assert that she is a queen, or at least a princess. No; I hope that when he sees me leave you, he will come out." 
"That is possible--go." 
"I am going," said Albert, as he made his parting bow. Just as he was passing the count's box, the door opened, and Monte Cristo came forth. After giving some directions to Ali, who stood in the lobby, the count took Albert's arm. Carefully closing the box door, Ali placed himself before it, while a crowd of spectators assembled round the Nubian. 
"Upon my word," said Monte Cristo, "Paris is a strange city, and the Parisians a very singular people. See that cluster of persons collected around poor Ali, who is as much astonished as themselves; really one might suppose he was the only Nubian they had ever beheld. Now I can promise you, that a Frenchman might show himself in public, either in Tunis, Constantinople, Bagdad, or Cairo, without being treated in that way." 
"That shows that the Eastern nations have too much good sense to waste their time and attention on objects undeserving of either. However, as far as Ali is concerned, I can assure you, the interest he excites is merely from the circumstance of his being your attendant--you, who are at this moment the most celebrated and fashionable person in Paris." 
"Really? and what has procured me so fluttering a distinction?" 
"What? why, yourself, to be sure! You give away horses worth a thousand louis; you save the lives of ladies of high rank and beauty; under the name of Major Brack you run thoroughbreds ridden by tiny urchins not larger than marmots; then, when you have carried off the golden trophy of victory, instead of setting any value on it, you give it to the first handsome woman you think of!" 
"And who has filled your head with all this nonsense?" 
"Why, in the first place, I heard it from Madame Danglars, who, by the by, is dying to see you in her box, or to have you seen there by others; secondly, I learned it from Beauchamp's journal; and thirdly, from my own imagination. Why, if you sought concealment, did you call your horse Vampa?" 
"That was an oversight, certainly," replied the count; "but tell me, does the Count of Morcerf never visit the Opera? I have been looking for him, but without success." 
"He will be here to-night." 
"In what part of the house?" 
"In the baroness's box, I believe." 
"That charming young woman with her is her daughter?" 
"Yes." 
"I congratulate you." Morcerf smiled. "We will discuss that subject at length some future time," said he. "But what do you think of the music?" 
"What music?" 
"Why, the music you have been listening to." 
"Oh, it is well enough as the production of a human composer, sung by featherless bipeds, to quote the late Diogenes." 
"From which it would seem, my dear count, that you can at pleasure enjoy the seraphic strains that proceed from the seven choirs of paradise?" 
"You are right, in some degree; when I wish to listen to sounds more exquisitely attuned to melody than mortal ear ever yet listened to, I go to sleep." 
"Then sleep here, my dear count. The conditions are favorable; what else was opera invented for?" 
"No, thank you. Your orchestra is too noisy. To sleep after the manner I speak of, absolute calm and silence are necessary, and then a certain preparation"-- 
"I know--the famous hashish!" 
"Precisely. So, my dear viscount, whenever you wish to be regaled with music come and sup with me." 
"I have already enjoyed that treat when breakfasting with you," said Morcerf. 
"Do you mean at Rome?" 
"I do." 
"Ah, then, I suppose you heard Haidée's guzla; the poor exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me the airs of her native land." Morcerf did not pursue the subject, and Monte Cristo himself fell into a silent reverie. The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the curtain. "You will excuse my leaving you," said the count, turning in the direction of his box. 
"What? Are you going?" 
"Pray, say everything that is kind to Countess G----on the part of her friend the Vampire." 
"And what message shall I convey to the baroness!" 
"That, with her permission, I shall do myself the honor of paying my respects in the course of the evening." 
The third act had begun; and during its progress the Count of Morcerf, according to his promise, made his appearance in the box of Madame Danglars. The Count of Morcerf was not a person to excite either interest or curiosity in a place of public amusement; his presence, therefore, was wholly unnoticed, save by the occupants of the box in which he had just seated himself. The quick eye of Monte Cristo however, marked his coming; and a slight though meaning smile passed over his lips. Haidée, whose soul seemed centred in the business of the stage, like all unsophisticated natures, delighted in whatever addressed itself to the eye or ear. 
The third act passed off as usual. Mesdemoiselles Noblet, Julie, and Leroux executed the customary pirouettes; Robert duly challenged the Prince of Granada; and the royal father of the princess Isabella, taking his daughter by the hand, swept round the stage with majestic strides, the better to display the rich folds of his velvet robe and mantle. After which the curtain again fell, and the spectators poured forth from the theatre into the lobbies and salon. The count left his box, and a moment later was saluting the Baronne Danglars, who could not restrain a cry of mingled pleasure and surprise. "You are welcome, count!" she exclaimed, as he entered. "I have been most anxious to see you, that I might repeat orally the thanks writing can so ill express." 
"Surely so trifling a circumstance cannot deserve a place in your remembrance. Believe me, madame, I had entirely forgotten it." 
"But it is not so easy to forget, monsieur, that the very next day after your princely gift you saved the life of my dear friend, Madame de Villefort, which was endangered by the very animals your generosity restored to me." 
"This time, at least, I do not deserve your thanks. It was Ali, my Nubian slave, who rendered this service to Madame de Villefort." 
"Was it Ali," asked the Count of Morcerf, "who rescued my son from the hands of bandits?" 
"No, count," replied Monte Cristo taking the hand held out to him by the general; "in this instance I may fairly and freely accept your thanks; but you have already tendered them, and fully discharged your debt--if indeed there existed one--and I feel almost mortified to find you still reverting to the subject. May I beg of you, baroness, to honor me with an introduction to your daughter?" "Oh, you are no stranger--at least not by name," replied Madame Danglars, "and the last two or three days we have really talked of nothing but you. Eugénie," continued the baroness, turning towards her daughter, "this is the Count of Monte Cristo." The Count bowed, while Mademoiselle Danglars bent her head slightly. "You have a charming young person with you to-night, count," said Eugénie. "Is she your daughter?" 
"No, mademoiselle," said Monte Cristo, astonished at the coolness and freedom of the question. "She is a poor unfortunate Greek left under my care." 
"And what is her name?" 
"Haidée," replied Monte Cristo. 
"A Greek?" murmured the Count of Morcerf. 
"Yes, indeed, count," said Madame Danglars; "and tell me, did you ever see at the court of Ali Tepelini, whom you so gloriously and valiantly served, a more exquisite beauty or richer costume?" 
"Did I hear rightly, monsieur," said Monte Cristo "that you served at Yanina?" 
"I was inspector-general of the pasha's troops," replied Morcerf; "and it is no secret that I owe my fortune, such as it is, to the liberality of the illustrious Albanese chief." 
"But look!" exclaimed Madame Danglars. 
"Where?" stammered Morcerf. 
"There," said Monte Cristo placing his arms around the count, and leaning with him over the front of the box, just as Haidée, whose eyes were occupied in examining the theatre in search of her guardian, perceived his pale features close to Morcerf's face. It was as if the young girl beheld the head of Medusa. She bent forwards as though to assure herself of the reality of what she saw, then, uttering a faint cry, threw herself back in her seat. The sound was heard by the people about Ali, who instantly opened the box-door. "Why, count," exclaimed Eugénie, "what has happened to your ward? she seems to have been taken suddenly ill." 
"Very probably," answered the count. "But do not be alarmed on her account. Haidée's nervous system is delicately organized, and she is peculiarly susceptible to the odors even of flowers--nay, there are some which cause her to faint if brought into her presence. However," continued Monte Cristo, drawing a small phial from his pocket, "I have an infallible remedy." So saying, he bowed to the baroness and her daughter, exchanged a parting shake of the hand with Debray and the count, and left Madame Danglars' box. Upon his return to Haidée he found her still very pale. As soon as she saw him she seized his hand; her own hands were moist and icy cold. "Who was it you were talking with over there?" she asked. 
"With the Count of Morcerf," answered Monte Cristo. "He tells me he served your illustrious father, and that he owes his fortune to him." 
"Wretch!" exclaimed Haidée, her eyes flashing with rage; "he sold my father to the Turks, and the fortune he boasts of was the price of his treachery! Did not you know that, my dear lord?" 
"Something of this I heard in Epirus," said Monte Cristo; "but the particulars are still unknown to me. You shall relate them to me, my child. They are, no doubt, both curious and interesting." 
"Yes, yes; but let us go. I feel as though it would kill me to remain long near that dreadful man." So saying, Haidée arose, and wrapping herself in her burnoose of white cashmire embroidered with pearls and coral, she hastily quitted the box at the moment when the curtain was rising upon the fourth act. 
"Do you observe," said the Countess G----to Albert, who had returned to her side, "that man does nothing like other people; he listens most devoutly to the third act of Robert le Diable, and when the fourth begins, takes his departure."  
和人约定要去看戏这个借口倒是很能令人相信的，因为碰巧那天晚上皇家戏院比平时更具吸引力。生了一场大病之后的李凡塞［李凡塞（一七九一—一八七一），法国歌剧演员——译注］重登舞台，扮演伯脱兰一角，而象往常一样，只要一宣布上演当代走红的作曲家最受崇拜的作品，就可以吸引来大批观众，包括巴黎上流社会的“精华”在内。象大多数有钱有地位的青年人一样，马尔塞夫在正厅前座有一个座位。此外，他还有权可以进“狮子”包厢。夏多·勒诺也买了一张前座票，座位就在他的旁边，而波尚凭着他那报馆编辑的资格，是可以在戏院里自由地满场飞的。那天晚上部长的包厢碰巧交给吕西安·德布雷去自由地支配，德布雷就把它送给了马尔塞夫伯爵，而马尔塞夫伯爵因为美塞苔丝不肯去，就转赠给了腾格拉尔，并暗示说，假如他们接受了那个包厢，他那天晚上或许会来和男爵夫人及她的女儿一同观剧的。腾格拉尔夫人和小姐接到这项赠送简直太高兴了，怎么也不会谢绝的。世界上再没有人比一位百万富翁更乐于接受一个不花钱的戏院包厢了。 
但腾格拉尔宣称，他的政治主张和他作为一个反对派议员是不允许他使用部长的包厢的，所以男爵夫人就写了一个条子给吕西安·德布雷，要他来拜访她们，因为她是不能单独带着欧热妮上戏院去的。的确，假如这两个女人不带一个护送者到戏院里去，社会上就会对此加以恶意的曲解的。但如果腾格拉尔小姐跟着她的母亲和她母亲的情人上戏院去，社会人士就无懈可击了。我们对于社会上的事情是只能随众同俗的。 
大幕拉开的时候，象往常一样，戏院几乎是空的，这也是巴黎上流社会的荒唐风气之一，戏不开始是决不肯在戏院里出现的，所以第一幕的演出通常是丝毫没人注意的，那些已经到场的观众也都在忙着在观察新到的看客，那开门关门的闹声，再加上谈话的嗡嗡声，简直使人无法再听到一些别的什么。 
“瞧，”当第一排一个包厢的门打开的时候，阿尔贝说道，“Ｇ伯爵夫人来了。” 
“请问，她是谁呀？”夏多·勒诺问道。 
“噢，伯爵！这句话问得可太不能原谅了，你竟问我Ｇ伯爵夫人是谁？” 
“啊，真的！”夏多·勒诺说道，“我现在记起来了，是你那位可爱的威尼斯人，是不是？” 
“正是她。” 
这时，伯爵夫人已看到了阿尔贝，并用一个微笑回答了他的致敬。 
“看来你好象认识她？”夏多·勒诺说道。 
“是的。是弗兰兹在罗马把我介绍给她的。”阿尔贝说道。 
“好，那么，你愿不愿意在巴黎为我做那件他在罗马为你做的事？” 
“乐意之至。” 
“不要讲话了！”观众喊道。 
这表明有一部分观众很想享受一下当时从舞台上和乐队里传出来的美妙的音乐，但那种表明示这两个青年并没有产生什么作用，他们继续谈着话，象是根本没听见似的。 
“马尔斯跑马场的赛马伯爵夫人也去看了的。”夏多·勒诺说。 
“今天？” 
“是的。” 
“糟糕！我把赛马都给忘了。你下赌注了没有？” 
“噢，小数目——五十个路易。” 
“哪一匹赢了？” 
“诺铁路斯。我赌的就是它。” 
“一共有三场赛马，是不是？” 
“是的，骑士俱乐部送了一个锦标——一只金杯。你知道，那场赛马会上发生了一件非常稀奇的事。” 
“什么事？” 
“不要讲话了！”爱音乐的那一部分观众又怒吼了起来。 
“嘿，那锦标竟被大家完全不熟悉的一匹马和一个骑师夺了去。” 
“有这样的事？” 
“一点都不假。谁也没注意到参赛的马中有一匹名叫万帕的马和一个名叫贾布的骑师。突然地，出发地点来了一匹枣骝马和一个象你的拳头差不多大的骑师。他们至少得在那个小骑师的口袋里塞一个二十磅重的铅丸才能使他够重量，但尽管如此，他还是超出了和他竞争的阿里尔和巴柏，至少整整超出了三个马身。” 
“后来有没有查明那匹马和那个骑师是属于谁的？” 
“没有。” 
“你说那匹马的名字是叫” 
“万帕。” 
“那么，”阿尔贝答道，“我的消息要比你灵通了，我知道那匹马的主人是谁了！” 
“那边不要讲话了！”观众里面又有人喊道。而这一次，由于那种命令的口吻里含着明显的敌意，这两个青年人才初次觉察到那个命令原来是冲着他们发的。他们转过头来，向人群里搜索着，究竟是谁敢对那种他们认为无礼的行为负责，但没有一个人来应答这种挑衅，于是这两位朋友就又把脸转到了舞台上。这时，部长包厢的门开了，腾格拉尔夫人，她的女儿和吕西安·德布雷进来入座了。 
“哈，哈！”夏多·勒诺说，“那儿又来了你的几个朋友啦，子爵！你在那儿看什么呀？你没看见他们想引起你的注意吗？” 
阿尔贝及时转过头来，刚巧看到男爵夫人对他和蔼地摇了摇扇子，至于欧热妮小姐，她是很少给恩赐她那一对黑色大眼睛的秋波的，甚至对舞台上望一眼都难得。 
“我告诉你，亲爱的，”夏多·勒诺说，“我想象不出腾格拉尔小姐有什么使你不满意的地方。就是说，暂且不管她的门第，在那方面她自然低了一点，但我想你也不见得会十分计较的。倒是我觉得她是一个非常漂亮的姑娘。” 
“要说漂亮，那当然罗，”阿尔贝回答说，“但她不合我的口味，我承认我喜欢一个比她更柔弱更温顺和更女性化的人。” 
“啊唷唷！”夏多·勒诺大声说道，他因为自己是一个三十岁的人，所以就对马瑟夫做出了一种父辈的神气，“你们年轻人是从来不知满足的。你还想要好到什么程度呀？你父母给你选的这位新娘就是把她当作一位活的狩猎女神也满可以说得过去的，可是你还不满足。” 
“不，就因为她象狩猎女神我才害怕呢。我倒喜欢五谷女神或畜牧女神的那种风度。至于这位性喜狩猎的女神，她的身边老是围绕着山灵水妖，我可有点心慌，深恐有一天她会使我落得个蚌壳精的下场。” 
的确，你只要向腾格拉尔小姐看一眼，就可以发现马尔塞夫所说的她身上所有的那种特征。她很漂亮，但是，正如阿尔贝所说的，美得未免有点太锋芒毕露了。她的头发象炭一般黑，但在它那种很自然的波浪之中，可以观察到它拒绝受别人摆布的某种抗拒力。她的眼睛和她的头发同色，睫毛很浓密，上面有两条弯弯的眉毛，但她的眉毛有一个大缺点，就是几乎老是习惯蹙皱着，她的整个脸上总带着一种刚毅坚决的表情，颇不具备女性的那种温柔。她的鼻子的形状很适合做雕刻家塑朱诺［希腊神话中宇宙大神之妻——译注］的模特儿，她的嘴里一口珍珠般雪白的牙齿，嘴巴的缺点或许是太大了一些，而且，由于她的嘴唇过分的红，就更引人注目，也使得她那苍白的皮肤似乎显得更缺少血色。在这个几乎象男人的脸（就是马尔塞夫觉得极不合他口味的脸）上更加重了男性气味的，是一颗比一般雀斑大得多的黑痣，正巧长在她的嘴角上，这更加强了她脸上那种坚定不移和倔强独立的表情。欧热妮小姐身体上其余的部分和刚才形容过的那个头部十分相称，正如夏多·勒诺所说的，她的确会使你想到狩猎女神，只是她的美更富于阳刚之气，更近于男性的美罢了。论到她的学识，唯一可能找到的缺点，和一个苛求的鉴赏家在她的美貌上所能找到的一样，就是那些学识象是属于男性的。她能讲两三种语言，是一个很好的艺术家，能写诗，会作曲。她公开宣称要终生献身于音乐这门艺术，正和她的一位同学在共同研究它，她那位同学没有钱，却具备各种条件可以成为——她确信她可以成为——一个出色的歌唱家。据说有一位鼎鼎大名的作曲家对在此提到的这位青年女子抱有一种几乎近于慈父般的关切，他鼓励她要勤勉地学习，希望她可以凭她的嗓子致富。由于罗茜·亚密莱小姐将来或许会上舞台，所以腾格拉尔小姐虽然仍把她收留在家里，却不便和她一同在公共场所露面。虽然罗茜在那位银行家的家里享受不到一个朋友的独立地位，但她的地位却比一个普通的女家庭教师要优越得多。 
腾格拉尔夫人进了她的包厢以后，大幕几乎立刻就落了下来。在幕落幕启之间，照例有一段休息时间，乐队离开了舞台前面半圆形的乐池，观众也可以自由地到休息室或前厅里去散步，在他们的包厢里接待客人或去拜访他们朋友的包厢。 
马尔塞夫和夏多·勒诺也是最先利用这种机会的人之一。腾格拉尔夫人最初以为那位年轻的子爵急急地起身是要到她这儿来，便向她的女儿耳语说，阿尔贝正急匆匆地要来拜访她们了。但后者却微笑着摇了摇头。正在这时，象是要证明她的怀疑的确是很有根据似的，马尔塞夫已在第一排的一个包厢里出现了，那是Ｇ伯爵夫人的包厢。 
“啊！您来啦，阁下，”伯爵夫人大声说道，并极其亲热地把手伸给了他，象老朋友似的，“您这样快就认出了我真是太好啦，尤其是您竟先来看我。” 
“您完全可以相信这一点”阿尔贝答道，“假如我知道您已经到了巴黎，并且知道您的住址，我早就来向您问候啦。请允许我介绍一下我的这位朋友，夏多·勒诺伯爵，是目前在法国难得找到的几位世家子弟之一。我刚才从他那儿得知，您昨天到马尔斯跑马场去看赛马了。” 
夏多·勒诺向伯爵夫人了一躬。 
“啊！你也去看赛马了吗，阁下？”伯爵夫人急切地问道。 
“是的，夫人。” 
“哦，那么，”Ｇ伯爵夫人很兴奋地追问道，“您也许能告诉我，夺得骑士俱乐部锦标的那匹马是属于谁的？” 
“真是抱歉得很，我只能说不知道，”伯爵回答说，“我刚才也正在向阿尔贝问这个问题。” 
“您急于想知道吗，伯爵夫人？”阿尔贝问道。 
“知道什么？” 
“那匹夺标的马的主人？” 
“想极啦，你们且想想看，怎么，子爵阁下，您知道他是谁吗？” 
“夫人，您刚才好象正要讲一个故事。因为您说“你们且想想看。’” 
“哦，那么，听着！你们一定知道，我很关心那匹漂亮的的枣骝马和那个别有风味地穿着一件粉红色绸短衫，戴粉红色软缎便帽的风流的小骑师，我当时禁不住热切地祈祷他们能获胜，就象是我有一半家产押在他们身上似的，当看到他们超过了所有其他的马，以那样漂亮的姿态向终点跑来的时候，我兴奋得拍起手来。回家的时候，我在楼梯上遇到了那个穿粉红短衫的骑师，想想看，当时我是多么的惊奇的啊！我还以为那匹获胜的马的主人一定碰巧，和我住在同一家旅馆里呢。但不是的！我一走进我的客厅，就看到了那只奖给那来历不明的马和骑师的金杯，杯子里有一张小纸条，上面写着：‘Ｇ——伯爵夫人惠存，罗思文勋爵敬赠。’” 
“一点不错，我早就料到了。”马尔塞夫说道。 
“料到了什么？” 
“那匹马的主人是罗思文勋爵。” 
“您指的是哪一位罗思文勋爵？” 
“咦，我们所说的那位罗思文勋爵呀——爱根狄诺戏院的那个僵尸！” 
“真的？”伯爵夫人大声说道，“那么，他也在这儿吗？” 
“当然罗，为什么不呢？” 
“您去拜访过他吗？在您府上和别处都见过他吗？” 
“实话告诉您，他是我最亲密的朋友，夏多·勒诺先生也有幸拜识过他。” 
“但您凭什么认为那夺标的就是他呢？” 
“那匹获胜的马不是以‘万帕’这个名字来参赛的吗？” 
“那又怎么样？” 
“咦，难道您不记得那个把我绑去的大名鼎鼎的强盗叫什么名字了吗？” 
“啊！不错。” 
“而伯爵又是怎么极其神妙地把我从他的手里救出来的了吗？” 
“当然记得。” 
“他的名字就叫万帕。所以，您瞧，就是他。” 
“但他为什么要把那奖杯送给我呢？” 
“第一，因为我对他常常谈起您，这是您可以意料得到的；第二，因为他很高兴看到一位女同胞，并且很高兴看到她这样热心地关切他的胜利。” 
“我希望您从没有把我们常常评论他的那些傻话都背给他听吧？” 
“我不想发誓说我没有讲过。而且，他以罗思文勋爵的名义把奖杯送给您，证明他已经知道有人在把他比作那个人了。” 
“噢，那简直太可怕啦！那人一定恨死我了。” 
“可他这个举动很难说是出于敌意的呀。” 
“不，当然不。” 
“嗯，那么” 
“那么他到巴黎来吗？” 
“是的。” 
“他在社会上产生了什么影响？” 
“嘿，“阿尔贝说道，“他被整整地谈论了一个星期。接着就来了英国王后的加冕典礼和马尔斯小姐的钻石失窃案，而那两件极有趣的大事就把大众的注意力转移到别的地方上去了。” 
“亲爱的，”夏多·勒诺说道，“这分明因为伯爵是你的朋友，所以你对他才不免有点袒护。别相信阿尔贝对您说的话，伯爵夫人，我敢负责地说一句：自从基督山伯爵出现以来，他在巴黎社交界一直轰动到现在，始终没有平息过。他来到以后的第一桩惊人之举便是送一对价值三万法郎的马给了腾格拉尔夫人；第二件，他奇迹般地保全了维尔福夫人的性命；现在似乎又是他夺去了骑士俱乐部所赠的锦标！所以不管我认为马尔塞夫怎么说，伯爵不但在目前这个时候是大家所瞩目的焦点，而且假如他继续表演那种在他似乎是家常便饭，而在在我们却觉得稀奇古怪的举动，他让可以再轰动一个月的。” 
“也许你说得不错，”马尔塞夫说道，“但先告诉我，俄国大使的那个包厢让给谁啦？” 
“您是指哪个包厢？”伯爵夫人问道。 
“第一排两根柱子之间的那一个，它似乎已全部改装过了。” 
“的确改装过了，”夏多·勒诺说道。“第一幕的时候那儿有人吗？” 
“哪儿？” 
“那个包厢里。” 
“没有，”伯爵夫人答道，“第一幕的时候当然是空着的。” 
说完这句话，她又回到他们刚才的那个话题上，说道，“那么您真的相信夺标的就是那位基督山伯爵了？” 
“对这一点我敢肯定。” 
“而后来他又把那只奖杯送给了我？” 
“那是毫无疑问的了。” 
“可我并不认识他呀，”伯爵夫人说道，“我很想把它退回去。” 
“我求您别那么干，那样的话，他只会再送您一只用翡翠或极大的红宝石雕成的杯子。这是他的一贯作风，您只能迁就他一下了。” 
这时，铃声宣布第二幕就要开始了。阿尔贝站起来准备回到他自己的座位上去。 
“我还能再见到你们吗？”伯爵夫人问道。 
“假如允许我在下一次休息的时候再来拜访您的话，我一定要请问一下在巴黎有没有我能为您效劳的地方？” 
“请注意，”伯爵夫人说道，“我目前的住处是在黎伏莱路二十二号，每星期六晚上我总是在家招待朋友们的。所以你们二位现在可不能再说不知道啦。” 
两个青年鞠了一躬，便离开了那个包厢。当他们回到自己的座位上的时候，他们才发觉正厅里的全部观众都已经站了起来，正目光一致地望着以前俄国大使包用的那个包厢。那儿刚进来了一个年约三十五至四十岁，身穿深黑衣服的男子，和他在一起的，还有一位穿东方式服装的女人。那个女人很年轻，而且非常美，她那身华丽的打扮把所有的目光都吸引到了她的身上。 
“哎呀！”阿尔贝说道，“那正是基督山和他的那个希腊女人呀！” 
这两位陌生人的确就是伯爵和海黛。后者的美丽和她那种眩目的装束所引起的轰动不久就传遍了戏院的每一个角落，太太小姐们都从她们的包厢里探出身来，观看那闪闪发光的繁星般的钻石。在第二幕演出期间，戏院里一直充满着嗡嗡的声音，在一个拥挤的集会场所里，这种声音就是表示已发生了一件惊人的大事，谁都想不到要人们安静下来。因为那个女人是这样的年轻，这样的美丽，这样的眩目，她就是眼前最动人的一幕。这时，腾格拉尔夫人作了一个不容误会的表示，示意她很希望第二幕的幕一落就在她的包厢里看到阿尔贝，且不要说马尔塞夫本来就很愿意，单是从礼貌上讲，也不允许他漠视一个表示得这样明显的邀请。所以在那一幕之后，他就走到了男爵夫人的包厢里。他先向太太和小姐鞠了一躬，然后便把手伸给了德布雷。男爵夫人极其殷勤地欢迎他，而瓦朗蒂娜则照常对他很冷淡。 
“亲爱的！”德布雷说道，“你来了太好了，正巧可以来救救一个走投无路的人。夫人没头没脑地向我提出了许多有关伯爵的问题，她坚持以为我能够把他的出身、教育、门第、从哪儿来、要到哪儿去等种种事情都告诉她。由于没有撒谎的本领，我就推托说：去问马尔塞夫吧，基督山的全部身世都源源本本地在他肚子里呢。’所以男爵夫人就向你示意，叫你过来了。” 
“一个至少有五十万秘密钱财可以动用的人，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，“他的消息竟会这样不灵通，这不是简直令人难以相信吗？” 
“我向您发誓，夫人，”吕西安说道，“假如我真的有您所说的那笔款子可以动用的话，我也会把它用到较有益的地方，而不会自找麻烦地打听基督山伯爵的种种细节的。在我的眼里，他唯一的长处就是他比一个印度王公还要富有一倍而已。但是，我已经把这事转交给马尔塞夫了，所以请您去和他解决吧，现在不再关我的事了。” 
“我敢绝对肯定没有哪一个印度王公会送我一对价值三万法郎的马，还给马头戴上四颗每颗价值五千法郎的钻石。” 
“他好象是有钻石癖，”马尔塞夫微笑着说道，“我确信他象俄国亲王波亭金一样，一定在口袋里装满了钻石，沿路抛撒，就象小孩子撒打火石似的。” 
“也许他发现了一个矿，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，”我想您大概已经知道了，他在男爵的银行里开具了无限期货款担保。” 
“我倒不知道这事，”阿尔贝回答说，“但我完全可以相信。” 
“他对腾格拉尔先生说，他只准备在巴黎住一年，在那段时间里，他准备花掉六百万，他一定是那位微服出游的波斯国王。” 
“您有没有注意到那个陪他来的年轻女人长得美极了，吕西安先生？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。 
“我的确从来没见过这样一个可以和您媲美的女人。”吕西安把观剧望远镜凑到了他的眼睛上。“真可爱！”他说道。 
“这个年轻的女人是谁，马尔塞夫先生？”瓦朗蒂娜问道，“有谁知道吗？” 
“小姐，”阿尔贝对这一句直接的问话答复说。“关于这一点，象许多有关我们现在所谈到的这位奇人的事情一样，我也是只知道一点儿。那个年轻的女人是个希腊人。” 
“这一点我从她的着装上就可以看得出来，假如您除了那一件明摆着的事实以外别无所知的话，这个戏院里的全部观众都可以说得上和您同样消息灵通的了。” 
“我很抱歉使您觉得我竟是一个这样无知的‘向导’，”马尔塞夫答道，“但我不得不承认，我实在再没什么别的事情可以奉告的了。噢，不，有了，我还知道一件事，就是，她是位音乐演奏家，因为有一天，当我在伯爵家里用早餐的时候，碰巧听到一架ｇｕｚｌａ琴的声音，那种琴声当然只有她才能弹得出来的。” 
“那么您那位伯爵也招待客人了？”腾格拉尔夫人问道。 
“他的确是招待的，而且以最高贵的方式，这一点我可以向您担保。” 
“我一定要劝腾格拉尔先生邀请他过来吃一顿饭或跳一次舞什么的，好使他不得不回请我们。” 
“什么！”德布雷大笑着说道，“您真的要到他家里去吗！” 
“为什么不呢，我丈夫可以陪我去的。” 
“但您不知道这位神秘的伯爵是一个单身汉吗？” 
“假如您向对面望一望，”男爵夫人带笑指了指那个美丽的希腊女人说道，“您就可以充分得到相反的证据啦。” 
“不，不！”德布雷大声说话，“那个女人不是他的太太。他曾亲自告诉我们说她是他的奴隶。马尔塞夫，你记不记得他在你那里吃早餐的时候曾这样告诉过我们？” 
“嗯，那么，”男爵夫人说道，“假如说她是个奴隶，可她的神态和气质却完全象是一位公主。” 
“是《一千零一夜》里的吗？” 
“随便您怎么说好了，但是告诉我，亲爱的吕西安，什么是一位公主的标志？论钻石，她可全身都是钻石啊。” 
“我觉得她似乎戴得太多了一点，”瓦朗蒂娜说道。“假如她戴得少一点，她就会好看得多了，那样我们就可以看到她那秀丽细腻的脖颈和手腕了。” 
“看！多象艺术家的门吻！”腾格拉尔夫人大声说道，“我可怜的瓦朗蒂娜，你还是把你对于美术的热情收起来吧。” 
“我对于人工或自然的美都都同样地能欣赏。”那位小姐回答说。 
“那么，您觉得伯爵怎么样？”德布雷问道，“他倒不全违背我心目中所谓好看的标准。” 
“伯爵？”瓦朗蒂娜把这两个字重复了一遍，象是她还没有观察过他似的，“伯爵？噢，他的脸色苍白得太可怕了。” 
“我很同意您的看法，”马尔塞夫说道，“而就在那种苍白下面，正隐藏着我们想知道的秘密。Ｇ伯爵夫人坚持说他是一具僵尸。” 
“那么说伯爵夫人已回到巴黎来了？”男爵夫人问道。 
“她在那边哪，妈妈，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，“几乎就在我们的对面，你没瞧见那一头浓密的浅色的漂亮头发吗？” 
“是的，是的，她在那边！”腾格拉尔夫人大声说道，“我可以对您说您应该做的事吗，马尔塞夫？” 
“请给我下命令吧，夫人，我在这儿洗耳恭听呢。” 
“嗯，那么，您应该去把那位基督山伯爵带到我们这儿来。” 
“为什么？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。 
“为什么？咦，当然是和他说说话呀，看看他的谈吐是否和别人一样，假如你没有这种好奇心，老实说我倒是有。你真的不想见他吗？” 
“一点都不想。”瓦朗蒂娜回答说。 
“怪丫头！”男爵夫人低声说道。 
“他多半会自动过来的，”马尔塞夫说道。“嘶，您瞧见了吗，夫人？ 
“他认出了您，正在向您鞠躬呢。” 
男爵夫人满脸堆笑地以最殷勤的态度回复了那个礼。 
“好吧，”马尔塞夫说道，“我就是牺牲自己好了。再会，我去瞧瞧有没有机会可以跟他讲话。” 
“径直到他的包厢里去，这是最简单的办法。” 
“但我从没有经过介绍呀。” 
“介绍给谁？” 
“那个希腊美人。” 
“您不是说她只是一个奴隶吗？” 
“可您却坚持说她是一位公主呀。不，不，我不敢进他的包厢，但我希望他看见我离开了你们，就会从他的包厢走出来。” 
“这是很可能的，去吧。” 
马尔塞夫鞠躬以后就走了出去。正当他经过伯爵的包厢，门开了，基督山走了出来。他先向那站在休息室里的阿里吩咐了几句话，然后就招呼了一声阿尔贝，并挽着他的手臂向前走去。阿里小心地把包厢门关上，自己站在门前，一群好奇的观众在这个黑人周围聚拢着。 
“说老实话。”基督山说道，“巴黎真是一个奇怪的城市，而巴黎人也是非常奇怪的人民。就好象他们生平第一次看到一个黑人似的。瞧，他们都挤在可怜的阿里周围，弄得他莫名其妙的。我向您保证，一个法国人不论到突尼斯、君士坦丁堡、巴格达或开罗去，他尽可以在公众场所露面，而他的周围决不会有人围观的。” 
“这证明东方人的头脑是很清醒的，他们决不会把他们的时间和注意力浪费到不值得注意的目标上。然而，单就阿里来说，我敢对您说，他之所以能引起别人的兴趣，就是因为他是属于您的，而您目前可是巴黎最红的人物啊。” 
“真的吗？我怎么会幸运地得到这样一种荣誉呢？” 
“怎么会？咦，当然是您自己造成的呀！您拿价值一千路易的马来送人；您救了一位既有地位又漂亮的太太的性命；您以布莱克参谋先生的名义去参加赛马，派去了纯种的骏马和并不比土拨鼠大多少的骑师；当您夺得了奖杯以后，却毫不珍惜它，把它送给了您所想得到的第一个漂亮女人。” 
“这些荒唐的念头是谁拿来放在您脑子里的？” 
“咦。第一件，我是从腾格拉尔夫人那儿听来的，顺便提一句，她极盼望您能到她的包厢里去，那儿还有别的人也想见您；第二件，我是从波堂的报纸上看到的；第三件，是我自己想出来的。咦，假如您想不被人知道的话，您干嘛要把那匹马叫作万帕呢？” 
“那的确是一个漏洞，”伯爵答道，“但请告诉我，马尔塞夫伯爵难道从来不上戏院的吗？我刚才望了一遍，但始终没能看到他。” 
“他今天晚上会来的。” 
“在戏院的哪一部分？” 
“大概是在男爵夫人的包厢里吧。” 
“那个和她在一起的可爱的青年女子就是她的女儿吗？” 
“是的”。 
“真的！那么我向您道喜了。” 
马尔塞夫微笑了一下，“这个问题我们将来再讨论吧，”他说道，“您觉得那首曲子如何？” 
“什么曲子？” 
“就是您刚才听到的那个。” 
“哦，既然作曲家是一个人，而唱
Chapter 54 A Flurry in Stocks
 SOME DAYS after this meeting, Albert de Morcerf visited the Count of Monte Cristo at his house in the Champs Elysées, which had already assumed that palace-like appearance which the count's princely fortune enabled him to give even to his most temporary residences. He came to renew the thanks of Madame Danglars which had been already conveyed to the count through the medium of a letter, signed "Baronne Danglars, nee Hermine de Servieux." Albert was accompanied by Lucien Debray, who, joining in his friend's conversation, added some passing compliments, the source of which the count's talent for finesse easily enabled him to guess. He was convinced that Lucien's visit was due to a double feeling of curiosity, the larger half of which sentiment emanated from the Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin. In short, Madame Danglars, not being able personally to examine in detail the domestic economy and household arrangements of a man who gave away horses worth 30,000 francs and who went to the opera with a Greek slave wearing diamonds to the amount of a million of money, had deputed those eyes, by which she was accustomed to see, to give her a faithful account of the mode of life of this incomprehensible person. But the count did not appear to suspect that there could be the slightest connection between Lucien's visit and the curiosity of the baroness. 
"You are in constant communication with the Baron Danglars?" the count inquired of Albert de Morcerf. 
"Yes, count, you know what I told you?" 
"All remains the same, then, in that quarter?" 
"It is more than ever a settled thing," said Lucien,--and, considering that this remark was all that he was at that time called upon to make, he adjusted the glass to his eye, and biting the top of his gold headed cane, began to make the tour of the apartment, examining the arms and the pictures. 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "I did not expect that the affair would be so promptly concluded." 
"Oh, things take their course without our assistance. While we are forgetting them, they are falling into their appointed order; and when, again, our attention is directed to them, we are surprised at the progress they have made towards the proposed end. My father and M. Danglars served together in Spain, my father in the army and M. Danglars in the commissariat department. It was there that my father, ruined by the revolution, and M. Danglars, who never had possessed any patrimony, both laid the foundations of their different fortunes." 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I think M. Danglars mentioned that in a visit which I paid him; and," continued he, casting a side-glance at Lucien, who was turning over the leaves of an album, "Mademoiselle Eugénie is pretty--I think I remember that to be her name." 
"Very pretty, or rather, very beautiful," replied Albert, "but of that style of beauty which I do not appreciate; I am an ungrateful fellow." 
"You speak as if you were already her husband." 
"Ah," returned Albert, in his turn looking around to see what Lucien was doing. 
"Really," said Monte Cristo, lowering his voice, "you do not appear to me to be very enthusiastic on the subject of this marriage." 
"Mademoiselle Danglars is too rich for me," replied Morcerf, "and that frightens me." 
"Bah," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "that's a fine reason to give. Are you not rich yourself?" 
"My father's income is about 50,000 francs per annum; and he will give me, perhaps, ten or twelve thousand when I marry." 
"That, perhaps, might not be considered a large sum, in Paris especially," said the count; "but everything does not depend on wealth, and it is a fine thing to have a good name, and to occupy a high station in society. Your name is celebrated, your position magnificent; and then the Comte de Morcerf is a soldier, and it is pleasing to see the integrity of a Bayard united to the poverty of a Duguesclin; disinterestedness is the brightest ray in which a noble sword can shine. As for me, I consider the union with Mademoiselle Danglars a most suitable one; she will enrich you, and you will ennoble her." Albert shook his head, and looked thoughtful. "There is still something else," said he. 
"I confess," observed Monte Cristo, "that I have some difficulty in comprehending your objection to a young lady who is both rich and beautiful." 
"Oh," said Morcerf, "this repugnance, if repugnance it may be called, is not all on my side." 
"Whence can it arise, then? for you told me your father desired the marriage." 
"It is my mother who dissents; she has a clear and penetrating judgment, and does not smile on the proposed union. I cannot account for it, but she seems to entertain some prejudice against the Danglars." 
"Ah," said the count, in a somewhat forced tone, "that may be easily explained; the Comtesse de Morcerf, who is aristocracy and refinement itself, does not relish the idea of being allied by your marriage with one of ignoble birth; that is natural enough." 
"I do not know if that is her reason," said Albert, "but one thing I do know, that if this marriage be consummated, it will render her quite miserable. There was to have been a meeting six weeks ago in order to talk over and settle the affair; but I had such a sudden attack of indisposition"-- 
"Real?" interrupted the count, smiling. 
"Oh, real enough, from anxiety doubtless,--at any rate they postponed the matter for two months. There is no hurry, you know. I am not yet twenty-one, and Eugénie is only seventeen; but the two months expire next week. It must be done. My dear count, you cannot imagine now my mind is harassed. How happy you are in being exempt from all this!" 
"Well, and why should not you be free, too? What prevents you from being so?" 
"Oh, it will be too great a disappointment to my father if I do not marry Mademoiselle Danglars." 
"Marry her then," said the count, with a significant shrug of the shoulders. 
"Yes," replied Morcerf, "but that will plunge my mother into positive grief." 
"Then do not marry her," said the count. 
"Well, I shall see. I will try and think over what is the best thing to be done; you will give me your advice, will you not, and if possible extricate me from my unpleasant position? I think, rather than give pain to my dear mother, I would run the risk of offending the count." Monte Cristo turned away; he seemed moved by this last remark. "Ah," said he to Debray, who had thrown himself into an easy-chair at the farthest extremity of the salon, and who held a pencil in his right hand and an account book in his left, "what are you doing there? Are you making a sketch after Poussin?" 
"Oh, no," was the tranquil response; "I am too fond of art to attempt anything of that sort. I am doing a little sum in arithmetic." 
"In arithmetic?" 
"Yes; I am calculating--by the way, Morcerf, that indirectly concerns you--I am calculating what the house of Danglars must have gained by the last rise in Haiti bonds; from 206 they have risen to 409 in three days, and the prudent banker had purchased at 206; therefore he must have made 300,000 livres." 
"That is not his biggest scoop," said Morcerf; "did he not make a million in Spaniards this last year?" 
"My dear fellow," said Lucien, "here is the Count of Monte Cristo, who will say to you, as the Italians do,-- 
　 
"Danaro e santità, 
Metà della metà. [1] 
"When they tell me such things, I only shrug my shoulders and say nothing." 
"But you were speaking of Haitians?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Ah, Haitians,--that is quite another thing! Haitians are the écarté of French stock-jobbing. We may like bouillotte, delight in whist, be enraptured with boston, and yet grow tired of them all; but we always come back to écarté--it is not only a game, it is a hors-d'oeuvre! M. Danglars sold yesterday at 405, and pockets 300,000 francs. Had he but waited till to-day, the price would have fallen to 205, and instead of gaining 300,000 francs, he would have lost 20 or 25,000." 
"And what has caused the sudden fall from 409 to 206?" asked Monte Cristo. "I am profoundly ignorant of all these stock-jobbing intrigues." 
"Because," said Albert, laughing, "one piece of news follows another, and there is often great dissimilarity between them." 
"Ah," said the count, "I see that M. Danglars is accustomed to play at gaining or losing 300,000 francs in a day; he must be enormously rich." 
"It is not he who plays!" exclaimed Lucien; "it is Madame Danglars: she is indeed daring." 
"But you who are a reasonable being, Lucien, and who know how little dependence is to be placed on the news, since you are at the fountain-head, surely you ought to prevent it," said Morcerf, with a smile. 
"How can I, if her husband fails in controlling her?" asked Lucien; "you know the character of the baroness--no one has any influence with her, and she does precisely what she pleases." 
"Ah, if I were in your place"--said Albert. 
"Well?" 
"I would reform her; it would be rendering a service to her future son-in-law." 
"How would you set about it?" 
"Ah, that would be easy enough--I would give her a lesson." 
"A lesson?" 
"Yes. Your position as secretary to the minister renders your authority great on the subject of political news; you never open your mouth but the stockbrokers immediately stenograph your words. Cause her to lose a hundred thousand francs, and that would teach her prudence." 
"I do not understand," stammered Lucien. 
"It is very clear, notwithstanding," replied the young man, with an artlessness wholly free from affectation; "tell her some fine morning an unheard-of piece of intelligence--some telegraphic despatch, of which you alone are in possession; for instance, that Henri IV was seen yesterday at Gabrielle's. That would boom the market; she will buy heavily, and she will certainly lose when Beauchamp announces the following day, in his gazette, 'The report circulated by some usually well-informed persons that the king was seen yesterday at Gabrielle's house, is totally without foundation. We can positively assert that his majesty did not quit the Pont-Neuf.'" Lucien half smiled. Monte Cristo, although apparently indifferent, had not lost one word of this conversation, and his penetrating eye had even read a hidden secret in the embarrassed manner of the secretary. This embarrassment had completely escaped Albert, but it caused Lucien to shorten his visit; he was evidently ill at ease. The count, in taking leave of him, said something in a low voice, to which he answered, "Willingly, count; I accept." The count returned to young Morcerf. 
"Do you not think, on reflection," said he to him, "that you have done wrong in thus speaking of your mother-in-law in the presence of M. Debray?" 
"My dear count," said Morcerf, "I beg of you not to apply that title so prematurely." 
"Now, speaking without any exaggeration, is your mother really so very much averse to this marriage?" 
"So much so that the baroness very rarely comes to the house, and my mother, has not, I think, visited Madame Danglars twice in her whole life." 
"Then," said the count, "I am emboldened to speak openly to you. M. Danglars is my banker; M. de Villefort has overwhelmed me with politeness in return for a service which a casual piece of good fortune enabled me to render him. I predict from all this an avalanche of dinners and routs. Now, in order not to presume on this, and also to be beforehand with them, I have, if agreeable to you, thought of inviting M. and Madame Danglars, and M. and Madame de Villefort, to my country-house at Auteuil. If I were to invite you and the Count and Countess of Morcerf to this dinner, I should give it the appearance of being a matrimonial meeting, or at least Madame de Morcerf would look upon the affair in that light, especially if Baron Danglars did me the honor to bring his daughter. In that case your mother would hold me in aversion, and I do not at all wish that; on the contrary, I desire to stand high in her esteem." 
"Indeed, count," said Morcerf, "I thank you sincerely for having used so much candor towards me, and I gratefully accept the exclusion which you propose. You say you desire my mother's good opinion; I assure you it is already yours to a very unusual extent." 
"Do you think so?" said Monte Cristo, with interest. 
"Oh, I am sure of it; we talked of you an hour after you left us the other day. But to return to what we were saying. If my mother could know of this attention on your part--and I will venture to tell her--I am sure that she will be most grateful to you; it is true that my father will be equally angry." The count laughed. "Well," said he to Morcerf, "but I think your father will not be the only angry one; M. and Madame Danglars will think me a very ill-mannered person. They know that I am intimate with you--that you are, in fact; one of the oldest of my Parisian acquaintances--and they will not find you at my house; they will certainly ask me why I did not invite you. Be sure to provide yourself with some previous engagement which shall have a semblance of probability, and communicate the fact to me by a line in writing. You know that with bankers nothing but a written document will be valid." 
"I will do better than that," said Albert; "my mother is wishing to go to the sea-side--what day is fixed for your dinner?" 
"Saturday." 
"This is Tuesday--well, to-morrow evening we leave, and the day after we shall be at Tréport. Really, count, you have a delightful way of setting people at their ease." 
"Indeed, you give me more credit than I deserve; I only wish to do what will be agreeable to you, that is all." 
"When shall you send your invitations?" 
"This very day." 
"Well, I will immediately call on M. Danglars, and tell him that my mother and myself must leave Paris to-morrow. I have not seen you, consequently I know nothing of your dinner." 
"How foolish you are! Have you forgotten that M. Debray has just seen you at my house?" 
"Ah, true," 
"Fix it this way. I have seen you, and invited you without any ceremony, when you instantly answered that it would be impossible for you to accept, as you were going to Tréport." 
"Well, then, that is settled; but you will come and call on my mother before to-morrow?" 
"Before to-morrow?--that will be a difficult matter to arrange, besides, I shall just be in the way of all the preparations for departure." 
"Well, you can do better. You were only a charming man before, but, if you accede to my proposal, you will be adorable." 
"What must I do to attain such sublimity?" 
"You are to-day free as air--come and dine with me; we shall be a small party--only yourself, my mother, and I. You have scarcely seen my mother; you shall have an opportunity of observing her more closely. She is a remarkable woman, and I only regret that there does not exist another like her, about twenty years younger; in that case, I assure you, there would very soon be a Countess and Viscountess of Morcerf. As to my father, you will not see him; he is officially engaged, and dines with the chief referendary. We will talk over our travels; and you, who have seen the whole world, will relate your adventures--you shall tell us the history of the beautiful Greek who was with you the other night at the Opera, and whom you call your slave, and yet treat like a princess. We will talk Italian and Spanish. Come, accept my invitation, and my mother will thank you." 
"A thousand thanks," said the count, "your invitation is most gracious, and I regret exceedingly that it is not in my power to accept it. I am not so much at liberty as you suppose; on the contrary, I have a most important engagement." 
"Ah, take care, you were teaching me just now how, in case of an invitation to dinner, one might creditably make an excuse. I require the proof of a pre-engagement. I am not a banker, like M. Danglars, but I am quite as incredulous as he is." 
"I am going to give you a proof," replied the count, and he rang the bell. 
"Humph," said Morcerf, "this is the second time you have refused to dine with my mother; it is evident that you wish to avoid her." Monte Cristo started. "Oh, you do not mean that," said he; "besides, here comes the confirmation of my assertion." Baptistin entered, and remained standing at the door. "I had no previous knowledge of your visit, had I?" 
"Indeed, you are such an extraordinary person, that I would not answer for it." 
"At all events, I could not guess that you would invite me to dinner." 
"Probably not." 
"Well, listen, Baptistin, what did I tell you this morning when I called you into my laboratory?" 
"To close the door against visitors as soon as the clock struck five," replied the valet. 
"What then?" 
"Ah, my dear count," said Albert. 
"No, no, I wish to do away with that mysterious reputation that you have given me, my dear viscount; it is tiresome to be always acting Manfred. I wish my life to be free and open. Go on, Baptistin." 
"Then to admit no one except Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and his son." 
"You hear--Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti--a man who ranks amongst the most ancient nobility of Italy, whose name Dante has celebrated in the tenth canto of The Inferno, you remember it, do you not? Then there is his son, Andrea, a charming young man, about your own age, viscount, bearing the same title as yourself, and who is making his entry into the Parisian world, aided by his father's millions. The major will bring his son with him this evening, the contino, as we say in Italy; he confides him to my care. If he proves himself worthy of it, I will do what I can to advance his interests. You will assist me in the work, will you not?" 
"Most undoubtedly. This Major Cavalcanti is an old friend of yours, then?" 
"By no means. He is a perfect nobleman, very polite, modest, and agreeable, such as may be found constantly in Italy, descendants of very ancient families. I have met him several times at Florence, Bologna and Lucca, and he has now communicated to me the fact of his arrival in Paris. The acquaintances one makes in travelling have a sort of claim on one; they everywhere expect to receive the same attention which you once paid them by chance, as though the civilities of a passing hour were likely to awaken any lasting interest in favor of the man in whose society you may happen to be thrown in the course of your journey. This good Major Cavalcanti is come to take a second view of Paris, which he only saw in passing through in the time of the Empire, when he was on his way to Moscow. I shall give him a good dinner, he will confide his son to my care, I will promise to watch over him, I shall let him follow in whatever path his folly may lead him, and then I shall have done my part." 
"Certainly; I see you are a model Mentor," said Albert "Good-by, we shall return on Sunday. By the way, I have received news of Franz." 
"Have you? Is he still amusing himself in Italy?" 
"I believe so; however, he regrets your absence extremely . He says you were the sun of Rome, and that without you all appears dark and cloudy; I do not know if he does not even go so far as to say that it rains." 
"His opinion of me is altered for the better, then?" 
"No, he still persists in looking upon you as the most incomprehensible and mysterious of beings." 
"He is a charming young man," said Monte Cristo "and I felt a lively interest in him the very first evening of my introduction, when I met him in search of a supper, and prevailed upon him to accept a portion of mine. He is, I think, the son of General d'Epinay?" 
"He is." 
"The same who was so shamefully assassinated in 1815?" 
"By the Bonapartists." 
"Yes. Really I like him extremely; is there not also a matrimonial engagement contemplated for him?" 
"Yes, he is to marry Mademoiselle de Villefort." 
"Indeed?" 
"And you know I am to marry Mademoiselle Danglars," said Albert, laughing. 
"You smile." 
"Yes." 
"Why do you do so?" 
"I smile because there appears to me to be about as much inclination for the consummation of the engagement in question as there is for my own. But really, my dear count, we are talking as much of women as they do of us; it is unpardonable." Albert rose. 
"Are you going?" 
"Really, that is a good idea!--two hours have I been boring you to death with my company, and then you, with the greatest politeness, ask me if I am going. Indeed, count, you are the most polished man in the world. And your servants, too, how very well behaved they are; there is quite a style about them. Monsieur Baptistin especially; I could never get such a man as that. My servants seem to imitate those you sometimes see in a play, who, because they have only a word or two to say, aquit themselves in the most awkward manner possible. Therefore, if you part with M. Baptistin, give me the refusal of him." 
"By all means." 
"That is not all; give my compliments to your illustrious Luccanese, Cavalcante of the Cavalcanti; and if by any chance he should be wishing to establish his son, find him a wife very rich, very noble on her mother's side at least, and a baroness in right of her father, I will help you in the search." 
"Ah, ha; you will do as much as that, will you?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, really, nothing is certain in this world." 
"Oh, count, what a service you might render me! I should like you a hundred times better if, by your intervention, I could manage to remain a bachelor, even were it only for ten years." 
"Nothing is impossible," gravely replied Monte Cristo; and taking leave of Albert, he returned into the house, and struck the gong three times. Bertuccio appeared. "Monsieur Bertuccio, you understand that I intend entertaining company on Saturday at Auteuil." Bertuccio slightly started. "I shall require your services to see that all be properly arranged. It is a beautiful house, or at all events may be made so." 
"There must be a good deal done before it can deserve that title, your excellency, for the tapestried hangings are very old." 
"Let them all be taken away and changed, then, with the exception of the sleeping-chamber which is hung with red damask; you will leave that exactly as it is." Bertuccio bowed. "You will not touch the garden either; as to the yard, you may do what you please with it; I should prefer that being altered beyond all recognition." 
"I will do everything in my power to carry out your wishes, your excellency. I should be glad, however, to receive your excellency's commands concerning the dinner." 
"Really, my dear M. Bertuccio," said the count, "since you have been in Paris, you have become quite nervous, and apparently out of your element; you no longer seem to understand me." 
"But surely your excellency will be so good as to inform me whom you are expecting to receive?" 
"I do not yet know myself, neither is it necessary that you should do so. 'Lucullus dines with Lucullus,' that is quite sufficient." Bertuccio bowed, and left the room.  
打这次聚会后，又过了几天，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫就到香榭丽舍大道去拜访基督山伯爵。伯爵身为巨富，此处虽身临时住所，却也装饰得富丽堂皇，因此从外面看他的府邸犹如宫殿一般。阿尔贝是来替腾格拉尔夫人再表谢忱的，男爵夫人自己已写信向伯爵道了一次谢，信上的署名为“腾格拉尔男爵夫人，母亲家姓名：爱米娜·萨尔维欧”。陪着阿尔贝来访的是吕西安·德布雷，他陪他朋友谈话的时候，顺口恭维了伯爵几句。伯爵本人恰也喜欢玩弄手腕，当然不难看出对方的来意。他断定吕西安这次来访，是出于两方面好奇心，而主要的一方面还是来自安顿大马路。换句话说，腾格拉尔夫人看不透伯爵是个什么样的人，能把价值三万法郎的马匹甩手送人，而且看歌剧时带去的希腊女奴，只身上佩戴的钻石就值百万法郎，象这样的人，他的生活方式究竟什么样，是她迫切希望知道的，但她又不好亲自拜访，亲眼看看伯爵的家境和家中陈设，所以派了她最信任的耳目来观察一番，然后回去向她忠实地汇报。但信爵装得毫不知情，似乎一点没有察觉吕西安的来访与男爵夫人的好奇心之间有什么关系。 
“那么说来，您和腾格拉尔男爵一直互相来往啦？”伯爵问阿尔贝·马尔塞夫。 
“是的，伯爵，我跟您说过。” 
“那么，那件事就没有一点儿变化？” 
“这件事可以说完全定局啦。”吕西安说道。他也许认为当时该他说的就是这么一句话，所以说完后，就戴上单片儿眼镜，嘴里咬着金头手杖的扶手，在房间里转游了一圈，细细观看纹章和图画。 
“噢！”基督山伯爵说道，“听您说了以后，我真没想到这件事会办得这么快。” 
“嗯，事情上了轨道，就用不着我们出什么力了。我们早就把这种事情丢到脑后去了，它们可以自行解决。等到我们再上心的时候，就会意想不到地发现它们马上就到达设想目标了。家父和腾格拉尔先生一起在西班牙服役——家父在作战部队，腾格拉尔先生在军粮处。家父是由于革命而破产的，腾格拉尔先生却压根儿没有什么祖传产业，他们两人都在那儿打下了基础，慢慢起家的。” 
“确实是这样，”基督山说道，“我记得有一次拜访他的时候，他曾跟我说起过。”说到这里，他斜睨着瞟了吕西安一眼，见他正在翻看一本纪念册。“还有，欧热妮小姐长得漂亮吗——我记得好象她叫这个名字，是不是？” 
“很漂亮，可以说，很美，”阿尔贝回答道，“不过她那种类型的美我是欣赏不了的。我这人不识好歹。” 
“您说话的口气好象都已经做她丈夫了。” 
“啊！”阿尔贝回答说，转过头来也看吕西安在干什么。 
“说实话，”基督山说道，压低了声音，“照我看，您好象对这桩婚事并不十分热心。” 
“腾格拉尔小姐太有钱了，我可高攀不上，“马尔塞夫回答说，“所以我有些胆怯。” 
“噢！”基督山嚷道，“这个理由实在精妙！难道您自己算不上有钱？” 
“家父的年收入大约是五万里弗，我结婚以后，他大概能给我一万或者一万二千。” 
“这个数目吗也许算不上大，特别是大巴黎，”伯爵说道，“但不是一切都要靠钱，名誉和社会地位也很重要。您的名声很好，您的地位谁都羡慕，而马尔塞夫伯爵又是一个军人，军官的公子和一个文官家庭联姻实在是件很可庆贺的事——不因利害考虑来缔结婚姻是一种最高贵的行为。依我看，和腾格拉尔小姐结合最合适不过了，她可以让您富有，而您可以让她高贵。” 
阿尔贝摇了摇头，显得若有所思。“还有些别的情况。”他说道。 
“我承认。”基督山说，“我实在有点不好理解您为什么要拒绝一位有钱又漂亮的小姐。” 
“噢！”马尔塞夫说道，“这种嫌恶感——如果能称做嫌恶感的话——并不完全是我个人造成的。” 
“那又能是谁造成的呢？您告诉过我，令尊是很赞成这门婚事的。” 
“家母不赞成，她的判断力从来都清晰深刻，但对这件商议中的婚事毫不乐观。我说不清究竟是为了什么，但她好象对腾格拉尔一家人有什么偏见。” 
“哦！”伯爵用一种稍显勉强的口气说道，“这大概很容易解释，马尔塞夫伯爵夫人是身价最高的贵族，所以不愿意您跟一个出身微贱的家庭联姻——那倒是很自然的。” 
“我不清楚这是不是她的理由，”阿尔贝说道，“但有一点我清楚，就是，如果这件婚事成功，她就会感到很痛苦。六星期以前，本来大家准备一起商谈一次，以便把那件事定下来，可我突然生了一场病——” 
“是吗？”伯爵微笑着打断他的话问道。 
“噢，还会有假？当然是急出来的。这么着就把那次商谈推迟了两个月。事情本来不必着急，您知道，我还没满二十一，而欧热妮才十七岁。可那两个月的期限下星期就要到期。事情不得不办了。亲爱的伯爵，您想象不到我的心里多么为难。呀！象您这么自由的人多快活！” 
“好！您为什么不也做个自由人呢？有谁不让您这么做呢？” 
“噢！如果我不娶腾格拉尔小姐，家父就太失望了。” 
“那么就娶她吧。”伯爵说道，暗含讽刺地耸了耸肩。 
“可是，”马尔塞夫答道。“那又会让家母痛苦不堪的。” 
“那么别娶她。”伯爵说道。 
“哎，我看着办吧。我得好好考虑一下，想出个最好的办法。请您给我一片忠告吧，如果可能，再把我从这种为难的境况中解救出来，好不好？我想，与其让我的好妈妈难过，我宁可胃犯伯爵。” 
基督山转过身去，最后这句话好象触动了他。“啊！”他冲德布雷问道。德布雷正靠在客厅另一头的一只安乐椅里，右手拿一支铅笔，左手拿着一本抄簿。“您在那儿干什么？临摹波森的画吗？” 
“不，不！我现在做的这件事跟画画相差十万八千里。我是在解数学。” 
“数学？” 
“对，我是在算——慢着，马尔塞夫，这件事和你有点儿间接的关系——我正在算上次海地公债涨价让腾格拉尔银行赚了多少钱，三天之内，它从二○六涨到了四○九，而那位谨慎的银行家大部分股是在二○六的时候买进的。他一定到手三十万里弗了。” 
“这还算不上他的绝活儿，”马尔塞夫说道，“他不是去年在西班牙证券市场上赚了一百万吗？” 
“我的好先生，”吕西安说道，“基督山伯爵在这儿，他可以给你引用意大利人的两句诗：人生何所求，致富和自由。他们给我讲这件事时候，我总是耸耸肩而已，什么话都不说。” 
“可您不是在大谈海地公债吗？”基督山说道。 
“啊，海地公债！——那又是另外一回事了！海地公债属于法国证券赌博中的‘爱卡代’。他们或许会喜欢打‘扑克’，要‘惠斯特’，沉湎于‘波士顿’，但那些时间长了要生厌的，最后他们还得回来玩‘爱卡代’，因为这个百玩不厌。腾格拉尔先生昨天在四○六的时候抛出，捞了三十万法郎进了腰包。要是他等到现在，价格就会跌到二○五，他不仅赚不到三十万法郎，而且还要蚀掉两万或两万五。” 
“怎么会突然从四○九跌到二○五呢？”基督山问道。“请原谅，我对这种种证券赌博的伎俩实在太无知了。” 
“因为，”阿尔贝大笑着说，“信息接二连三地来，而前后的信息常常大不一样。” 
“啊，”伯爵说道，“我看腾格拉尔先生在一天中输赢三十万法郎是件平常事，他一定很有钱了。” 
“其实并不是他在赌，”吕西安叫道，“而是腾格拉尔夫人，她实在是大胆。” 
“可你是一个很理智的人，吕西安，你知道现在的信息有多么不可靠，既然你是个信息来源，你当然应该阻止这种事情。”马尔塞夫带笑说道。 
“她的丈夫根本就控制不了她，我又怎么能有所作为呢？ 
吕西安问道，“你知道男爵夫人的个性——谁都影响不了她，她想怎么做就怎么做。” 
“啊，假如我处在你的位置”阿尔贝说。 
“怎么样？” 
“我就要改变她，这也算是对她未来的女婿助一把力。” 
“你怎么去帮呢？” 
“啊，那很简单——我要给她个教训。” 
“教训？” 
“是的。你这位部长秘书的地位使你在传播政治消息上很有权威，你一张口，那些证券投机商就立刻把你的话记录下来。你让她一下子蚀掉十万法郎，就可以教她谨慎一点了。” 
“我不明白您的意思。”吕西安低声说道。 
“这是明摆着的，”年轻人用毫不矫饰的口气直率地答道，“挑一个适当日子向她透露一件外界不知晓的消息，或是一个只有你一个人知道的急讯，譬如说，昨天有人看到亨利四世在盖勃拉里家里。那会让公债涨价的。她会根据这个消息做她的决定，而第二天，当波尚在他的报纸上宣布‘据传昨日曾有人目睹国王驾临着勃拉里府，此消息毫无根据。本报可证实陛下并未离开新桥’的时候，她肯定会蚀本啦。” 
吕西安脸上似笑非笑。基督山表面显得虽然漠不关心，实际上对这一段谈话却一字不漏地记在心上，他那具有洞察力的目光甚至已经在那位秘书困惑的态度上读到了一种含而不露的秘密。这种困惑的态度阿尔贝完全没有注意到，而吕西安却因此草草结束他的问题；他显然很不安。伯爵在送他走的时候向他低语了些什么，他回答道：“很好，伯爵阁下，我接受您的建议。”伯爵回到小马尔塞夫那儿。 
“您不想想，”他对他说，“您在德布雷的面前这样议论您的岳母是不合适的吗？” 
“伯爵阁下，”马尔塞夫说道，“求您别把那个称呼用得太早。” 
“现在，老老实实地告诉我，令堂真的非常反对这桩婚事吗？” 
“非常反对，所以男爵夫人很少到我们家来，而家母，我想，她一辈子就没有去拜访过腾格拉尔夫人两次以上。” 
“那么，”伯爵说道，“我就可以放心坦白地对您说了。腾格拉尔先生是我的银行家，维尔福先生因为我碰巧一次帮了他的忙，曾经十分客气地来拜访过我。我猜想宴会来往将会接二连三。现在，为了表明我并不期望他们请求，也为了要比他们抢先一步，我想请腾格拉尔先生夫妇和维尔福先生夫妇到我的欧特伊乡村别墅去吃饭。如果我同时邀请您和令尊令堂，看上去就象是一次为促成婚事而举行的宴会了，至少马尔塞夫夫人会这么看，特别是如果腾格拉尔男爵赏脸带上她的女儿同行的话。那么样，令堂就会对我产生厌恶感，而那正是我绝对不愿意看到的事；正相反——这一点，请你有空儿向她说明——我很希望能得到她的敬意。” 
“真的，伯爵，”马尔塞夫说道，“我衷心地感谢您对我这样坦白，而且我很感激地接受您把我排除在外的这个建议。您说您希望获得家母的好感，我可以向您保证，她对您的好感已经是非同寻常了。” 
“您认为是这样吗？”基督山饶有兴趣地问道。 
“噢，这一点我可以肯定。那天您走了之后，我们谈论了您一个钟头呢。现在再谈谈我们刚才说的事吧。如果家母理解了您这一番考虑——我会向她解释的——我相信她一定会十分感激您的，不过要是家父知道了，他倒是也会大为恼火。” 
伯爵大笑起来。“哦，”他对马尔塞夫说，“我想，大为恼火的恐怕不只令尊一个人吧。腾格拉尔先生夫妇也会把我看成一个非常不知礼的人。他们知道我和您很亲密——的确，您是我在巴黎结识最久的人之一，要是他们看不到您，肯定要问我为什么不邀请您。您必须要给自己想法弄一个事先另有安排的借口，而且要看起来象真的一样，然后写张条子告诉我。您要知道，跟银行家打交道，没有书面证明是不会奏效的。” 
“我有更好的办法，”阿尔贝说道，“家母本打算到海边去，您定在哪一天请客？” 
“星期六。” 
“今天是星期二，我们明天傍晚动身，后天我们就到的黎港了。真的，伯爵阁下，您确实是一个让人喜欢的人，能让所有人各安其心。” 
“您实在太过奖了，我只是不想让您难堪而已。” 
“您什么时候发请帖？” 
“今天就发。” 
“那好，我马上去拜访腾格拉尔先生，跟他说家母和我明天要离开巴黎。我没有见过您，因此您请客的事我一无所知。” 
“看您笨的！您忘了德布雷先生不是刚才还看见您在我这儿吗？” 
“呀，真是的！” 
“正好相反，我见过您，而且非正式地邀请过您，而您却马上说您无法应邀前来，因为您要到的黎港去。” 
“好吧，那么，就这么定了。但您在明天以前总督来拜访家母一次吧？” 
“明天以前？这件事实在不好办到，况且，你们也得忙着准备起程。” 
“那太好了！来一手更漂亮的吧。您以前只能算得上可爱，可如果您接受我的建议，您可就是可敬佩的了。” 
“我怎么才能得到这个荣誉呢？” 
“您今天如空气一般自由，请和我一起用晚餐吧。我们不请别人——就您、家母和我。您等于可以说还没有见过家母，您可以有个机会更加仔细地观察她。她是一个非凡的女人，我唯一觉着遗憾的事，是世界上找不到一个象她那么好而又比她年轻二十岁的女人，如果有的话，我向您保证，除了马尔塞夫伯爵夫人以外，用不多久就又会有一位马尔塞夫子爵夫人啦。至于家父，您是碰不到他的，他参加官方活动，要到王室议员府去赴宴。我们可以谈谈我们过去旅行的经过，而您，您是走遍了全世界的人，可以讲讲您的奇遇。您可以把那天晚上陪您去戏院，您把她称为您的奴隶而实际上待她像一位公主的那个希腊美人的身世告诉我们。怎么样，接受我的邀请吧，家母也会感谢您的。” 
“万分感谢，”伯爵说道，“您的邀请是最赏脸不过了，可实在遗憾之至，我确实无法接受。我并不象您想象的那么自由，恰恰相反，我有一个非常要紧的约会。” 
“哎呀，真得当心！您刚才还在教我遇到人家请吃饭的时候怎么去编造一个可信的借口来推托。我要看看你有没有事先有约会的证据。我虽然不是腾格拉尔先生那样的银行家，但我的多疑心倒也不逊于他。” 
“我来告诉您个证据。”伯爵回答，他拉了拉铃。 
“哼！”马尔塞夫说道，“您回避和家母一起吃饭这已经是第二次了，您显然是想躲开她。” 
基督山吃了一惊。“噢，您在开玩笑吧！”他说，“况且，证明我话的人已经来了。”巴浦斯汀进来站到了门口。“我事先并不知道您要来看我，是不是？” 
“说实话，您是一位如此非凡的人物，这个问题我不愿意回答。” 
“一句话，我猜不到您会请我去吃饭吧？” 
“大概吧。” 
“那么，听我说，巴浦斯汀，今天早晨我叫你到实验室去的时候，跟你说过什么来着？” 
“五点钟一敲，就关门谢客。”那位跟班回答。 
“然后呢？” 
“啊，伯爵阁下”阿尔贝说道。 
“不，不，我想免掉您送给我的那种神秘的尊号，我亲爱的子爵，老是扮演曼费雷特是很没意思。我希望我的生活可以公开化。说下去，巴浦斯汀。” 
“然后，除了巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校和他的儿子以外，其他客人一概谢绝。” 
“您听到了吧：巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校——这位人物是意大利历史上历时最久的贵族之一，他这个家族的大名但丁曾在《地狱》的第十节中极力赞美过。您还记得吧，不记得了？还有他儿子，一个可爱的青年人，年龄跟您差不多，也有您的子爵衔头，他正要带着他的父亲的万贯家产涉足巴黎社会。少校今天傍晚带他的儿子来了，托我照顾他。如果看看他确实值得我照顾的话，我当然要尽力帮他的忙，您也帮我个忙，怎么样？” 
“绝对没问题！那么，卡瓦尔康蒂少校是您的老朋友喽？” 
“绝对不是。他是一位受人尊敬的贵族，非常谦恭有礼，为人十分随和，凡是意大利时间久远的巨族的后代，大多都这个样子。我曾在佛罗伦萨、博洛涅和卢卡见过他几次，他现在通知我要到这儿来了。旅游过程中认识的人往往对您有这样的要求。您曾经凑巧在旅途上和他们有过某种交往，那么不论您到哪儿，他们都希望能受到同样的接待，好象曾经献过一小时殷勤可以使您对他们永远关怀似的。这位卡瓦尔康蒂少校是第二次到巴黎来，帝国时代的时候，他当时在莫斯科，曾路过这个地方。一顿饭他就把他的儿子托我照料，我可以答应我好好地请他。不论他怎么取闹，我总得随他的便，到时我的责任也就尽完了。” 
“当然喽，我发现您真是一位难得的导师，”阿尔贝说道。 
“那么，再见吧，我们星期天回来。顺便跟您说一下，我得到弗兰士的消息了。” 
“真的？他还在逍遥自在地在意大利玩吗？” 
“我想是的。可是，他觉得您不在那儿是一件十分遗憾的事儿。他说您就是罗马的太阳，没有了您，一切都好象黑沉沉阴森森的了，我不清楚他说没说过简直就好象在下雨。” 
“那么他对我的看法改变了吗？” 
“没有，他仍然坚持把您看作是最不可思议和最神秘莫测的人。” 
“他是一个可爱的青年，”基督山说道，“我第一次见到他，就是那天晚上我听说他在找顿晚餐吃，于是就请他来和我一起吃，我因此对他产生了浓厚的兴趣。我好象记得他是伊皮奈将军的儿子吧？” 
“对。” 
“就是在一八一五年被人无耻暗害的那个？” 
“是被拿破仑党暗害的。” 
“对了！我的确非常喜欢他，他不也在谈一门亲事吗？” 
“对，他马上要娶维尔福小姐了。” 
“真的？” 
“正好象我快要娶腾格拉尔小姐一样。”阿尔贝笑着说。 
“您笑啦！” 
“是的。” 
“笑什么呢？” 
“我笑是因为他的对象也象我的那位一样，很希望这门婚事能成。但说真的，亲爱的伯爵，我们现在就跟女人谈论男人那样的在谈论她们了。这可是不可饶恕的呀！”阿尔贝站起身来。 
“您要走吗？” 
“真的，您太好啦！我耽误了您两个钟头，把您烦得要命，可您还是那么客气地问我是不是要走了！说实话，伯爵，您是世界上最文雅的人了！还有您的仆人，他们的态度也好极了。他们都很有风度，尤其是巴浦斯汀先生，我永远找不到象他那样的一个人，我的仆人们好象在模仿舞台上那种最最笨拙的角色出来说个一两句话。所以如果那天您辞退巴浦斯汀，一定请告诉我一声。” 
“可以，子爵。” 
“还有一件事。请代我向您那位荣耀的来宾，卡瓦尔康蒂族的卡瓦尔康蒂致意，如果他打算给他的儿子成家立室，希望为他找一个非常有钱的太太，我可以助您一臂之力。 
“噢，噢！您真的这种事都愿意做吗？” 
“是的。” 
“好吧，真的，这个世界上的事情本来就是说不定的。” 
“噢，伯爵，您这就给我帮了一个大忙了！如果有您的干预，我可以依然做一个单身汉，我就更要百倍地喜欢您了，即使我再独身十年也无怨无悔。” 
“世界上没有不可能的事。”基督山郑重地回答。送走阿尔贝以后，他回到屋里，敲了三下钟。贝尔图乔进来了。 
“贝尔图乔先生，你知道星期六那天我要在欧特伊请客。” 
贝尔图乔微微一怔。“我要您去监督安排一切。那座房子很漂亮，至少可以布置成一座很漂亮的房子。” 
“要称得上漂亮这两个字，得先下一番大功夫呢，伯爵阁下，因为那些门帘窗帷是太旧了。” 
“那么就把它们都换掉吧，不过挂着红缎窗帷的卧室不必换，那个房间你一点儿都不要去动它。”贝尔图乔鞠了下躬。 
“你也不要去动那个花园。至于前庭，随便你怎么布置好了，我倒希望能把它变得面目全非。” 
“我一定尽力照您的愿望做，伯爵阁下。但关于请客的事，我很希望得到大人的指示。” 
“说实话，我亲爱的贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵说道，“自从到了巴黎以后，你变得神经错乱，显然没有你本来的样子，你好象再也不懂我的意思啦。” 
“能不能请大人开恩，把您想请的那几位客人先告诉我？” 
“我自己还不知道呢，而且你也不必知道。什么人请什么人吃饭，明白这个就够了。”贝尔图乔鞠了一躬，离开了房间。
Chapter 55 Major Cavalcanti
 BOTH THE COUNT and Baptistin had told the truth when they announced to Morcerf the proposed visit of the major, which had served Monte Cristo as a pretext for declining Albert's invitation. Seven o'clock had just struck, and M. Bertuccio, according to the command which had been given him, had two hours before left for Auteuil, when a cab stopped at the door, and after depositing its occupant at the gate, immediately hurried away, as if ashamed of its employment. The visitor was about fifty-two years of age, dressed in one of the green surtouts, ornamented with black frogs, which have so long maintained their popularity all over Europe. He wore trousers of blue cloth, boots tolerably clean, but not of the brightest polish, and a little too thick in the soles, buckskin gloves, a hat somewhat resembling in shape those usually worn by the gendarmes, and a black cravat striped with white, which, if the proprietor had not worn it of his own free will, might have passed for a halter, so much did it resemble one. Such was the picturesque costume of the person who rang at the gate, and demanded if it was not at No. 30 in the Avenue des Champs-Elysées that the Count of Monte Cristo lived, and who, being answered by the porter in the affirmative, entered, closed the gate after him, and began to ascend the steps. 
The small and angular head of this man, his white hair and thick gray mustaches, caused him to be easily recognized by Baptistin, who had received an exact description of the expected visitor, and who was awaiting him in the hall. Therefore, scarcely had the stranger time to pronounce his name before the count was apprised of his arrival. He was ushered into a simple and elegant drawing-room, and the count rose to meet him with a smiling air. "Ah, my dear sir, you are most welcome; I was expecting you." 
"Indeed," said the Italian, "was your excellency then aware of my visit?" 
"Yes; I had been told that I should see you to-day at seven o'clock." 
"Then you have received full information concerning my arrival?" 
"Of course." 
"Ah, so much the better, I feared this little precaution might have been forgotten." 
"What precaution?" 
"That of informing you beforehand of my coming." 
"Oh, no, it has not." 
"But you are sure you are not mistaken." 
"Very sure." 
"It really was I whom your excellency expected at seven o'clock this evening?" 
"I will prove it to you beyond a doubt." 
"Oh, no, never mind that," said the Italian; "it is not worth the trouble." 
"Yes, yes," said Monte Cristo. His visitor appeared slightly uneasy. "Let me see," said the count; "are you not the Marquis Bartolomeo Cavalcanti?" 
"Bartolomeo Cavalcanti," joyfully replied the Italian; "yes, I am really he." 
"Ex-major in the Austrian service?" 
"Was I a major?" timidly asked the old soldier. 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo "you were a major; that is the title the French give to the post which you filled in Italy." 
"Very good," said the major, "I do not demand more, you understand"-- 
"Your visit here to-day is not of your own suggestion, is it?" said Monte Cristo. 
"No, certainly not." 
"You were sent by some other person?" 
"Yes." 
"By the excellent Abbé Busoni?" 
"Exactly so," said the delighted major. 
"And you have a letter?" 
"Yes, there it is." 
"Give it me, then;" and Monte Cristo took the letter, which he opened and read. The major looked at the count with his large staring eyes, and then took a survey of the apartment, but his gaze almost immediately reverted to the proprietor of the room. "Yes, yes, I see. 'Major Cavalcanti, a worthy patrician of Lucca, a descendant of the Cavalcanti of Florence,'" continued Monte Cristo, reading aloud, "'possessing an income of half a million.'" Monte Cristo raised his eyes from the paper, and bowed. "Half a million," said he, "magnificent!" 
"Half a million, is it?" said the major. 
"Yes, in so many words; and it must be so, for the abbé knows correctly the amount of all the largest fortunes in Europe." 
"Be it half a million. then; but on my word of honor, I had no idea that it was so much." 
"Because you are robbed by your steward. You must make some reformation in that quarter." 
"You have opened my eyes," said the Italian gravely; "I will show the gentlemen the door." Monte Cristo resumed the perusal of the letter:-- 
"'And who only needs one thing more to make him happy.'" 
"Yes, indeed but one!" said the major with a sigh. 
"'Which is to recover a lost and adored son.'" 
"A lost and adored son!" 
"'Stolen away in his infancy, either by an enemy of his noble family or by the gypsies.'" 
"At the age of five years!" said the major with a deep sigh, and raising his eye to heaven. 
"Unhappy father," said Monte Cristo. The count continued:-- 
"'I have given him renewed life and hope, in the assurance that you have the power of restoring the son whom he has vainly sought for fifteen years.'" The major looked at the count with an indescribable expression of anxiety. "I have the power of so doing," said Monte Cristo. The major recovered his self-possession. "So, then," said he, "the letter was true to the end?" 
"Did you doubt it, my dear Monsieur Bartolomeo?" 
"No, indeed; certainly not; a good man, a man holding religious office, as does the Abbé Busoni, could not condescend to deceive or play off a joke; but your excellency has not read all." 
"Ah, true," said Monte Cristo "there is a postscript." 
"Yes, yes," repeated the major, "yes--there--is--a--postscript." 
"'In order to save Major Cavalcanti the trouble of drawing on his banker, I send him a draft for 2,000 francs to defray his travelling expenses, and credit on you for the further sum of 48,000 francs, which you still owe me.'" The major awaited the conclusion of the postscript, apparently with great anxiety. "Very good," said the count. 
"He said 'very good,'" muttered the major, "then--sir"--replied he. 
"Then what?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"Then the postscript"-- 
"Well; what of the postscript?" 
"Then the postscript is as favorably received by you as the rest of the letter?" 
"Certainly; the Abbé Busoni and myself have a small account open between us. I do not remember if it is exactly 48,000 francs, which I am still owing him, but I dare say we shall not dispute the difference. You attached great importance, then, to this postscript, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti?" 
"I must explain to you," said the major, "that, fully confiding in the signature of the Abbé Busoni, I had not provided myself with any other funds; so that if this resource had failed me, I should have found myself very unpleasantly situated in Paris." 
"Is it possible that a man of your standing should be embarrassed anywhere?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Why, really I know no one," said the major. 
"But then you yourself are known to others?" 
"Yes, I am known, so that"-- 
"Proceed, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti." 
"So that you will remit to me these 48,000 francs?" 
"Certainly, at your first request." The major's eyes dilated with pleasing astonishment. "But sit down," said Monte Cristo; "really I do not know what I have been thinking of--I have positively kept you standing for the last quarter of an hour." 
"Don't mention it." The major drew an arm-chair towards him, and proceeded to seat himself. 
"Now," said the count, "what will you take--a glass of port, sherry, or Alicante?" 
"Alicante, if you please; it is my favorite wine." 
"I have some that is very good. You will take a biscuit with it, will you not?" 
"Yes, I will take a biscuit, as you are so obliging." 
Monte Cristo rang; Baptistin appeared. The count advanced to meet him. "Well?" said he in a low voice. "The young man is here," said the valet de chambre in the same tone. 
"Into what room did you take him?" 
"Into the blue drawing-room, according to your excellency's orders." 
"That's right; now bring the Alicante and some biscuits." 
Baptistin left the room. "Really," said the major, "I am quite ashamed of the trouble I am giving you." 
"Pray don't mention such a thing," said the count. Baptistin re-entered with glasses, wine, and biscuits. The count filled one glass, but in the other he only poured a few drops of the ruby-colored liquid. The bottle was covered with spiders' webs, and all the other signs which indicate the age of wine more truly than do wrinkles on a man's face. The major made a wise choice; he took the full glass and a biscuit. The count told Baptistin to leave the plate within reach of his guest, who began by sipping the Alicante with an expression of great satisfaction, and then delicately steeped his biscuit in the wine. 
"So, sir, you lived at Lucca, did you? You were rich, noble, held in great esteem--had all that could render a man happy?" 
"All," said the major, hastily swallowing his biscuit, "positively all." 
"And yet there was one thing wanting in order to complete your happiness?" 
"Only one thing," said the Italian. 
"And that one thing, your lost child." 
"Ah," said the major, taking a second biscuit, "that consummation of my happiness was indeed wanting." The worthy major raised his eyes to heaven and sighed. 
"Let me hear, then," said the count, "who this deeply regretted son was; for I always understood you were a bachelor." 
"That was the general opinion, sir," said the major, "and I" -- 
"Yes," replied the count, "and you confirmed the report. A youthful indiscretion, I suppose, which you were anxious to conceal from the world at large?" The major recovered himself, and resumed his usual calm manner, at the same time casting his eyes down, either to give himself time to compose his countenance, or to assist his imagination, all the while giving an under-look at the count, the protracted smile on whose lips still announced the same polite curiosity. "Yes," said the major, "I did wish this fault to be hidden from every eye." 
"Not on your own account, surely," replied Monte Cristo; "for a man is above that sort of thing?" 
"Oh, no, certainly not on my own account," said the major with a smile and a shake of the head. 
"But for the sake of the mother?" said the count. 
"Yes, for the mother's sake--his poor mother!" cried the major, taking a third biscuit. 
"Take some more wine, my dear Cavalcanti," said the count, pouring out for him a second glass of Alicante; "your emotion has quite overcome you." 
"His poor mother," murmured the major, trying to get the lachrymal gland in operation, so as to moisten the corner of his eye with a false tear. 
"She belonged to one of the first families in Italy, I think, did she not?" 
"She was of a noble family of Fiesole, count." 
"And her name was"-- 
"Do you desire to know her name?"-- 
"Oh," said Monte Cristo "it would be quite superfluous for you to tell me, for I already know it." 
"The count knows everything," said the Italian, bowing. 
"Oliva Corsinari, was it not?" 
"Oliva Corsinari." 
"A marchioness?" 
"A marchioness." 
"And you married her at last, notwithstanding the opposition of her family?" 
"Yes, that was the way it ended." 
"And you have doubtless brought all your papers with you?" said Monte Cristo. 
"What papers?" 
"The certificate of your marriage with Oliva Corsinari, and the register of your child's birth." 
"The register of my child's birth?" 
"The register of the birth of Andrea Cavalcanti--of your son; is not his name Andrea?" 
"I believe so," said the major. 
"What? You believe so?" 
"I dare not positively assert it, as he has been lost for so long a time." 
"Well, then," said Monte Cristo "you have all the documents with you?" 
"Your excellency, I regret to say that, not knowing it was necessary to come provided with these papers, I neglected to bring them." 
"That is unfortunate," returned Monte Cristo. 
"Were they, then, so necessary?" 
"They were indispensable." 
The major passed his hand across his brow. "Ah, per Bacco, indispensable, were they?" 
"Certainly they were; supposing there were to be doubts raised as to the validity of your marriage or the legitimacy of your child?" 
"True," said the major, "there might be doubts raised." 
"In that case your son would be very unpleasantly situated." 
"It would be fatal to his interests." 
"It might cause him to fail in some desirable matrimonial alliance." 
"O peccato!" 
"You must know that in France they are very particular on these points; it is not sufficient, as in Italy, to go to the priest and say, 'We love each other, and want you to marry us.' Marriage is a civil affair in France, and in order to marry in an orthodox manner you must have papers which undeniably establish your identity." 
"That is the misfortune! You see I have not these necessary papers." 
"Fortunately, I have them, though," said Monte Cristo. 
"You?" 
"Yes." 
"You have them?" 
"I have them." 
"Ah, indeed?" said the major, who, seeing the object of his journey frustrated by the absence of the papers, feared also that his forgetfulness might give rise to some difficulty concerning the 48,000 francs--"ah, indeed, that is a fortunate circumstance; yes, that really is lucky, for it never occurred to me to bring them." 
"I do not at all wonder at it--one cannot think of everything; but, happily, the Abbé Busoni thought for you." 
"He is an excellent person." 
"He is extremely prudent and thoughtful" 
"He is an admirable man," said the major; "and he sent them to you?" 
"Here they are." 
The major clasped his hands in token of admiration. "You married Oliva Corsinari in the church of San Paolo del Monte-Cattini; here is the priest's certificate." 
"Yes indeed, there it is truly," said the Italian, looking on with astonishment. 
"And here is Andrea Cavalcanti's baptismal register, given by the curate of Saravezza." 
"All quite correct." 
"Take these documents, then; they do not concern me. You will give them to your son, who will, of course, take great care of them." 
"I should think so, indeed! If he were to lose them"-- 
"Well, and if he were to lose them?" said Monte Cristo. 
"In that case," replied the major, "it would be necessary to write to the curate for duplicates, and it would be some time before they could be obtained." 
"It would be a difficult matter to arrange," said Monte Cristo. 
"Almost an impossibility," replied the major. 
"I am very glad to see that you understand the value of these papers." 
"I regard them as invaluable." 
"Now," said Monte Cristo "as to the mother of the young man" -- 
"As to the mother of the young man"--repeated the Italian, with anxiety. 
"As regards the Marchesa Corsinari"-- "Really," said the major, "difficulties seem to thicken upon us; will she be wanted in any way?" 
"No, sir," replied Monte Cristo; "besides, has she not"-- 
"Yes, sir," said the major, "she has"-- 
"Paid the last debt of nature?" 
"Alas, yes," returned the Italian. 
"I knew that," said Monte Cristo; "she has been dead these ten years." 
"And I am still mourning her loss," exclaimed the major, drawing from his pocket a checked handkerchief, and alternately wiping first the left and then the right eye. 
"What would you have?" said Monte Cristo; "we are all mortal. Now, you understand, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti, that it is useless for you to tell people in France that you have been separated from your son for fifteen years. Stories of gypsies, who steal children, are not at all in vogue in this part of the world, and would not be believed. You sent him for his education to a college in one of the provinces, and now you wish him to complete his education in the Parisian world. That is the reason which has induced you to leave Via Reggio, where you have lived since the death of your wife. That will be sufficient." 
"You think so?" 
"Certainly." 
"Very well, then." 
"If they should hear of the separation"-- 
"Ah, yes; what could I say?" 
"That an unfaithful tutor, bought over by the enemies of your family"-- 
"By the Corsinari?" 
"Precisely. Had stolen away this child, in order that your name might become extinct." 
"That is reasonable, since he is an only son." 
"Well, now that all is arranged, do not let these newly awakened remembrances be forgotten. You have, doubtless, already guessed that I was preparing a surprise for you?" 
"An agreeable one?" asked the Italian. 
"Ah, I see the eye of a father is no more to be deceived than his heart." 
"Hum!" said the major. 
"Some one has told you the secret; or, perhaps, you guessed that he was here." 
"That who was here?" 
"Your child--your son--your Andrea!" 
"I did guess it," replied the major with the greatest possible coolness. "Then he is here?" 
"He is," said Monte Cristo; "when the valet de chambre came in just now, he told me of his arrival." 
"Ah, very well, very well," said the major, clutching the buttons of his coat at each exclamation. 
"My dear sir," said Monte Cristo, "I understand your emotion; you must have time to recover yourself. I will, in the meantime, go and prepare the young man for this much-desired interview, for I presume that he is not less impatient for it than yourself." 
"I should quite imagine that to be the case," said Cavalcanti. 
"Well, in a quarter of an hour he shall be with you." 
"You will bring him, then? You carry your goodness so far as even to present him to me yourself?" 
"No; I do not wish to come between a father and son. Your interview will be private. But do not be uneasy; even if the powerful voice of nature should be silent, you cannot well mistake him; he will enter by this door. He is a fine young man, of fair complexion--a little too fair, perhaps--pleasing in manners; but you will see and judge for yourself." 
"By the way," said the major, "you know I have only the 2,000 francs which the Abbé Busoni sent me; this sum I have expended upon travelling expenses, and"-- 
"And you want money; that is a matter of course, my dear M. Cavalcanti. Well, here are 8,000 francs on account." 
The major's eyes sparkled brilliantly. 
"It is 40,000 francs which I now owe you," said Monte Cristo. 
"Does your excellency wish for a receipt?" said the major, at the same time slipping the money into the inner pocket of his coat. 
"For what?" said the count. 
"I thought you might want it to show the Abbé Busoni." 
"Well, when you receive the remaining 40,000, you shall give me a receipt in full. Between honest men such excessive precaution is, I think, quite unnecessary." 
"Yes, so it is, between perfectly upright people." 
"One word more," said Monte Cristo. 
"Say on." 
"You will permit me to make one remark?" 
"Certainly; pray do so." 
"Then I should advise you to leave off wearing that style of dress." 
"Indeed," said the major, regarding himself with an air of complete satisfaction. 
"Yes. It may be worn at Via Reggio; but that costume, however elegant in itself, has long been out of fashion in Paris." 
"That's unfortunate." 
"Oh, if you really are attached to your old mode of dress; you can easily resume it when you leave Paris." 
"But what shall I wear?" 
"What you find in your trunks." 
"In my trunks? I have but one portmanteau." 
"I dare say you have nothing else with you. What is the use of boring one's self with so many things? Besides an old soldier always likes to march with as little baggage as possible." 
"That is just the case--precisely so." 
"But you are a man of foresight and prudence, therefore you sent your luggage on before you. It has arrived at the H?tel des Princes, Rue de Richelieu. It is there you are to take up your quarters." 
"Then, in these trunks"-- 
"I presume you have given orders to your valet de chambre to put in all you are likely to need,--your plain clothes and your uniform. On grand occasions you must wear your uniform; that will look very well. Do not forget your crosses. They still laugh at them in France, and yet always wear them, for all that." 
"Very well, very well," said the major, who was in ecstasy at the attention paid him by the count. 
"Now," said Monte Cristo, "that you have fortified yourself against all painful excitement, prepare yourself, my dear M. Cavalcanti, to meet your lost Andrea." Saying which Monte Cristo bowed, and disappeared behind the tapestry, leaving the major fascinated beyond expression with the delightful reception which he had received at the hands of the count.  
基督山伯爵以少校马上来访为借口推辞了阿尔贝的邀请，但他和巴浦斯汀所说的确是实情。七点钟刚敲过，也就是在贝尔图乔受命到欧特伊去的两小时以后，一辆出租马车在大厦门前停了下来，等乘客在门口下车以后，立刻就急匆匆地驶开了，象是感到羞于做这项差使似的。从马车上下来的那个人是位年约五十二岁的男子，身穿一件在欧洲流行了很久的那种绿底绣着黑青蛙的外套。他的裤子是用蓝布做的，皮鞋非常干净，但擦得并不很亮，而且鞋跟略微太显厚了一点儿；戴着鹿皮手套；一顶有点儿象宪兵常戴的那种帽子和一条黑白条纹的领结。这个领结如果不是主人爱惜的话，原本可以不用了。这位漂亮人物拉动香榭丽舍大道三十号门上的门铃，问基督山伯爵阁下是不是住这儿，在得到门房是的答复以后，他便进门，顺手带上门，开始踏上台阶。 
来人的头部既小且瘦，头发雪白，长着灰色浓密的胡须。 
等候在大厅里的巴浦斯汀不费力气地就认出这位等待着的来客，因为对于他的容貌，他事先已得到详细的通告。所以，不等这位陌生客通报他的姓名，伯爵就已接到了通报，知道他到了。他被领进一间朴素高雅的会客厅里，伯爵面带笑容地起身来迎接他。“啊，我亲爱的先生，欢迎之至，我正恭候您呢。” 
“大人真的在等候我吗？”那位意大利人说道。 
“是的，我接到通知，知道今天七点钟您来这儿。” 
“那么，至于我来的事，您已接到详细通知了吗？” 
“当然喽。” 
“啊，那就好了，我特别怕这个程序给忘记了呢。” 
“什么程序？” 
“就是把我要来的情况事先通知您。” 
“不，不，没有忘记。” 
“但您确信您没有弄错吗？” 
“我确信如此。” 
“大人今天晚上七点钟等候的真是我吗？” 
“我可以向您证明，您完全不必怀疑。” 
“噢，不，不用了，”那意大利人说道，“不必麻烦了。” 
“是的，是的，”基督山说道。他的客人似乎稍稍有点不安。“我想想看，”伯爵说道，“您不是巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂侯爵阁下吗？” 
“巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂，”那意大利人高兴地答道，“是的，我确实就是他。” 
“前奥地利驻军中的少校？” 
“我是位少校吗？”那老军人怯生生地问道。 
“是的，”基督山说道，“您是位少校，您在意大利的职位就相当法国的少校。” 
“好极了，”少校说道，“我不需要您多说了，您知道” 
“您今天的访问不是您自己的意思。”基督山说道。 
“不是，当然不是。” 
“是别人要您来信？” 
“是的。” 
“是那位好心肠的布沙尼神甫吧？” 
“一点不错。”少校快活地说道。 
“您带了封信来吧？” 
“是的，这就是。” 
“那么，请给我吧。”基督山接过那封信，拆开来看。少校一对大眼睛凝视着伯爵，然后把房间里的情形察看了一眼。 
他的凝视几乎很快又回到房间主人的身上。“是的，是的，对了。‘卡瓦尔康蒂少校，一位可敬的卢卡贵族，佛罗伦萨卡瓦尔康蒂族后裔，’”基督山大声往下念着，“‘每年收入五十万。’”基督山从信纸上把眼睛抬起来，鞠了一躬。“五十万，”他说，“可观！” 
“五十万，是吗？”少校说。 
“是的，信上是这么说的，这一定没有假，因为神甫对于欧洲所有的大富翁的财产都了如指掌。” 
“那么，就算五十万吧。但说老实话，我倒没想到有那么多。” 
“因为您的管家在跟您捣鬼。那方面您必须得改进一下。” 
“您让我开了窍，”那位意大利人郑重地说，“我该请那位先生开路。” 
基督山继续读着那封信：“‘他生平只有一件不如意的事。’” 
“是的，的确，只有一件！”少校说，并叹息了一声。 
“‘就是失掉了一个爱子。’” 
“失掉了一个爱子！” 
“‘是在他幼年时代让他家里的仇人或吉卜赛人拐走的。’” 
“那时他才五岁！”少校两眼望着天，深深地叹了口气说。 
“不幸的父亲！”基督山伯爵说，然后继续念道，“‘我给他以再生的希望，向他保证，说你有办法可以给他找回那个他毫无结果地寻找了十五年的儿子。’”少校带着一种无法形容的焦急的神色望伯爵。“这种事我有办法。”基督山说。 
少校恢复了他的自持。“呵，呵！”他说，“那么这封信从头到尾都是真的了？” 
“您不相信吗，巴陀罗米奥先生？” 
“我，当然，当然相信。象布沙尼神甫这样一个担任教职的好人不可能骗人，也不可能跟人开玩笑，可大人还没有念完呢。” 
“啊，对！”基督山说，“还有一句附言。” 
“是的，是的，”少校跟着说，“还——有——一——句——附——言。” 
“‘为了不麻烦卡瓦尔康蒂少校从他的银行提款，我送了他一张两千法郎的支票给他用作旅费，另外再请他向你提取你欠我的那笔四万八千法郎。’” 
少校一脸焦急的神色一直持续到那句附言读完。 
“好极了。”伯爵说。 
“他说‘好极了，’”少校心中自语，“那么——阁下——”他答道。 
“那么什么？”基督山问。 
“那么那句附言——” 
“哦！那么附言怎么样？” 
“那么那句附言您也象那封信的正文一样可以接受吗？” 
“当然喽，布沙尼神甫和我有点关系。我记不得到底是不是还欠着他四万八。可我敢说，我们不会因其中的差额起纠纷的。那么，您对于这句附言觉得很重要吗，我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生？” 
“我必须得向您解释一下，”少校说，“因为十分信任布沙尼神甫的签字，我自己并没有另带着钱来，所以如果这笔钱保证不了的话，我在巴黎的情形就要很不好过了。” 
“象您这么有身份的一位人物怎么可能在一个地方受窘呢？”基督山说。 
“哦，说真话，我一个人都不认识。”少校说。 
“但人家总认识您的吧？” 
“是的，人家认识我，那么” 
“请说吧，我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生。” 
“那么您可以把这四万八千里弗付给我的了？” 
“当然啦，随便您什么时候要都可以。”少校的眼睛惊喜地睁得圆圆的。“但请坐，”基督山说，“真的，我不知道自己脑子里想了些什么，竟让您站在那儿一刻钟。” 
“没关系。”少校拖过一把圈椅，自己坐下了。 
“现在，”伯爵说，“您想吃点儿什么东西吗？来一杯红葡萄酒，白葡萄酒，还是阿利坎特葡萄酒？” 
“阿利坎特葡萄酒吧，如果不麻烦的话，我喜欢喝这种酒。” 
“我有几瓶上好的。您用饼干下酒好不好？” 
“好的。我吃点饼干，多谢您这样周到。” 
基督山拉了拉铃，巴浦斯汀出现了。伯爵向他迎上去。 
“怎么样？”他低声说道。 
“那个青年来了。”贴身跟班也低声说道。 
“你把他领到哪一个房间去了？” 
“照大人的吩咐，在那间蓝客厅里。” 
“对了，现在去拿一瓶阿利坎特葡萄酒和几块饼干来。” 
巴浦斯汀走了出去。 
“真的，”少校说，“这样打扰您，实在于心不安。” 
“小事一桩，何足挂齿。”伯爵说。 
巴浦斯汀拿了酒和饼干进来。伯爵把一只杯子斟满，但在另一只杯子里，他只把这种红宝石色的液体滴了几滴。酒瓶上满是蛛丝，还有其他种种比一个人脸上的皱纹更确切地证明这确是陈年好酒。少校也十分聪明地拿了那只斟满的酒杯和一块饼干。伯爵叫巴浦斯汀把那只盘子放在他的客人旁边，客人就带着一种很满意的表情啜了一口阿利坎特酒，然后又津津有味地把他的饼干在葡萄酒里蘸了蘸。 
“哦，先生，您长住在卢卡是不是？您又有钱又高贵，又受人尊敬——凡是使一个人快乐的条件，您都具有了？” 
“都具有了，”少校说，急忙吞下他的饼干，“真是都具有了。” 
“您就缺少一样东西，否则就十全十美了，是不是？” 
“就缺少一样东西。”那意大利人说。 
“而那样东西就是您那个失踪的孩子！” 
“唉，”少校拿起第二块饼干说，“那的确是我的一件憾事。”这位可敬的少校两眼望天，叹息了一声。 
“尽管告诉我，那么，”伯爵说，“您这样痛惜的令郎，究竟是谁呢？因为我老是以为您还是一个单身汉。” 
“一般都是那么说，先生，”少校说，“而我” 
“是的，”伯爵答道，“而且您还故意证实那种谣传。我想，您当然是打算掩饰青年时代的一次不检点，免得社会上传得纷纷扬扬？” 
少校的神色又复原了，重新装出他那种一贯的从容不迫，同时垂下他的眼睛，大概是想借此恢复他面部的表情或帮助他想象；他时不时朝伯爵偷看上一眼，但伯爵的嘴角上依然挂着那种温和的好奇的微笑。 
“是的，”少校说，“我的确希望这种过失能瞒过所有人。” 
“起因当然不能怪您，”基督山答道，“因为象您这样的人是不会犯这种过失的。” 
“噢，不，当然不能怪我。”少校说着，微笑着摇摇头。 
“得怪那位做母亲的？”伯爵说道。 
“是的，得怪那位做母亲的——他那个可怜的母亲！”少校说道，并拿起第三块饼干。 
“再喝一点酒，我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂，”伯爵一面说，一面给他倒第二杯阿利坎特葡萄酒，“您太激动啦。” 
“他那可怜的母亲！”少校吞吞吐吐地说着，尽量想让他的意志完全控制住自己的泪腺，以使便出一滴假眼泪来润湿他的眼角。 
“我想，她出身于意大利第一流家庭吧，是不是？” 
“她的家庭是费沙尔的贵族，伯爵阁下。” 
“她的名字是叫——” 
“您想知道她的名字吗？” 
“噢，”基督山说，“您告诉我也多余，因为我已经知道了。” 
“伯爵阁下是无所不知的。”那意大利人说，并鞠了一躬。 
“奥丽伐·高塞奈黎，对不对？” 
“奥丽伐·高塞奈黎！” 
“一位侯爵的小姐？” 
“一位侯爵的小姐！” 
“而您不顾她家庭的反对，总算娶到了她？” 
“是的，我娶到了她。” 
“您肯定把那各种文件都带来了吧？”基督山说。 
“什么文件？” 
“您和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎结婚的证书，你们的孩子的出生登记证。” 
“我孩子的出生登记证？” 
“安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂的出生登记证——令郎的名字不是叫安德烈吗？” 
“我想是的。”少校说。 
“什么！您‘想’是的？” 
“我不敢十分确定，因为他已经失踪了这么长时间了。” 
“那倒也是，”基督山说。“那么您把文件都带来了吗？” 
“伯爵阁下，说来十分抱歉，因为不知道非要用那些文件，所以我一时疏忽，忘了把它们带来了。” 
“那就很不好办了。”基督山答道。 
“那么，它们非要不可吗？” 
“它们是必不可少的呀。” 
少校用手抹了一抹他的额头。“哎呀，糟了，必不可少！” 
“当然是这样，说不定这儿会有人怀疑到你们结婚的正当性或者你们孩子的合法性！” 
“没错，”少校说，“可能会有人怀疑的。” 
“倘若如此，您那个孩子的处境可就非常不乐观了。” 
“那时他极其不利。” 
“或许那会让他错过一门很好的亲事。” 
“太糟了！” 
“您必须知道，在法国，他们对这些是很看重的。象在意大利那样跑到教士那儿去说‘我们彼此相爱，请您给我们证婚’那是不行的。在法国，结婚是一件公事，正式结婚必须有无懈可击的证明文件。” 
“那真不幸，我可没有这些必需的文件。” 
“幸好，我有。”基督山说。 
“您？” 
“是的。” 
“您有那些文件？” 
“我有那些文件。” 
“啊，真的！”少校说，他眼见着他此次旅行的目的要因缺乏那些文件而落空，也深怕他的健忘或许会使那四万八千里弗产生麻烦，“啊，真的，那就太走运了，是的，实在走运，因为我从来就没想到要把它们带来。” 
“我一点都不奇怪。一个人不能面面俱到呀！幸亏布沙尼长神甫您想到了。” 
“他真是个好人！” 
“他非常谨慎，想得极其周到。” 
“他真是一个值得钦佩的人，”少校说，“他把它们送到您这儿了吗？” 
“这就是。” 
“少校紧握双手，表示钦佩。 
“您是在凯铁尼山圣·保罗教堂里和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎结婚的，这是教士的证书。” 
“是的，没错，是这个。”那位意大利人惊诧地望着说。 
“这是安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂的受洗登记证，是塞拉维柴的教士出具的。” 
“完全不错。” 
“那么，拿走这些证件吧，不关我的事了。您可以把它们交给令郎，令郎自然要小心保存起来。” 
“我想他一定会的！如果他遗失了” 
“嗯，如果他遗失了怎么办呢？”基督山说。 
“那么，”少校答道，“就必需得去抄一份副本，又得拖一些时间才能弄到手。” 
“这事就难办了。”基督山说道。 
“几乎是不可能办的。”少校回答。 
“我很高兴看到您懂得这些文件的价值。” 
“我认为它们是无价之宝。” 
“哦，”基督山说，“至于那青年人的母亲——” 
“至于那青年人的母亲——”那位意大利人焦急地照着重复了一遍。 
“至于高塞奈黎侯爵小姐——” 
“真的，”少校说，好象觉得眼前突然又冒出问题来了，“难道还得她来作证吗？” 
“不，先生，”基督山答道，“而且，她不是已经——对自然偿清了最后的一笔债了吗？” 
“唉！是的。”那意大利人回答。 
“我知道，”基督山说，“她已经去世十年了。” 
“而我现在才追悼她的不幸早逝！”少校悲叹着说，然后从他的口袋里掏出一块格子花纹的手帕，先抹抹右眼，然后又抹抹左眼。 
“您还想怎么样呢？”基督山说，“大家都难逃一死。现在您要明白，我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，您在法国不必告诉别人说您曾和令郎分离过十五年。吉卜赛人拐小孩这种故事在世界的这个区域并不经常发生，不会有人相信。您曾送他到某个省的某所大学去读书，现在您希望他在巴黎社交界来完成他的教育。为了这个理由，您才不得下暂时离开维亚雷焦，自从您的太太去世以后，您就一直住在那儿。这些就够了。” 
“您是这样看吗？” 
“当然啦。” 
“好极了，那么。” 
“如果他们听到了那次分离的事——” 
“啊，对了，我怎么说呢？” 
“有一个奸诈的家庭教师，让府上的仇人买通——” 
“让高塞奈黎家族方面吗？” 
“一点不错，他拐走了这个孩子，想让府上这一家族绝后。” 
“这很说得过去，因为他是个独子。” 
“好，现在一切都说妥了，这些又唤起的往事现在不要轻易忘记了。您肯定已经猜到我已经为您准备好一件意想不到的事了吧？” 
“是件大喜事吧？”那意大利人问道。 
“啊，我知道一个做父亲的眼睛和他的心一样是不容易被骗过的。” 
“嘿！”少校说。 
“有人把秘密告诉您了吧，或者您大概已猜到他在这儿了吧。” 
“谁在这儿？” 
“你的孩子——您的儿子——您的安德烈！” 
“我的确猜到了，”少校带着尽可能从容的神气回答。“那么他在这儿了吗？” 
“他来了，”基督山说道，“刚才我的贴身跟班进来的时候，他告诉我他已经来了。” 
“啊！好极了！好极了！”少校说着，他每喊一声，就抓一抓他上衣上的纽扣。 
“我亲爱的先生，”基督山说道，“我理解你这种感情，您需要有些时间来适应您自己。我可以用这点时间去让那个青年人准备好这一场想念已久的会见，因为我想他内心的急切也不亚于您呢。” 
“这我可以想象得到。”卡瓦尔康蒂说道。 
“好吧，一刻钟之内，您就可以和他在一起了。” 
“那么您还用带他来吗？您难道还要亲自带他来见我吗？您真是太好啦！” 
“不，我不想来插到你们父子之间。你们单独见面吧。但不必紧张，即使父子之间的本能不提示您，您也弄不错的。他一会儿从这扇门进来。他是个很好看的青年人，肤色很白——也许太白了一点——性格很活泼，您一会儿就可以看到他了，还是您自己来判断吧。” 
“慢着点儿，”少校说，“您知道我只有布沙尼神甫送给我的那两千法郎，这笔款子我已经花在旅费上了，所以” 
“所以您要钱用，那是当然的事，亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生。嗯，这儿先付您八千法郎。” 
少校的眼睛里奕奕闪光。 
“现在我只欠您四万法郎了。”基督山说。 
“大人要收条吗？”少校说着，一面把钱塞进他上装里面的口袋里。 
“要收条干什么？”伯爵说。 
“我想您或许要把它拿给布沙尼神甫看。” 
“哦，您收到余下的四万法郎之后，给我一张整数的收条就行。我们都是君子，不必这么斤斤计较。” 
“啊，是的，确实如此，”少校说道，“我们都是君子。” 
“还有一件事。”基督山说。 
“请说吧。” 
“您可以允许我提个建议吗？” 
“当然，我求之不得。” 
“那么我劝您别再穿这种样式的衣服吧。” 
“真的！”少校说，带着很满意的神气望望他自己。 
“是的。在维亚雷焦的时候兴许可以穿它，但这种服装，不论它本身多么高雅，在巴黎早已过时了。” 
“那真倒霉。” 
“噢，如果您真的爱穿您这种旧式衣服，在您离开巴黎的时候可以再换上。” 
“可我穿什么好呢？” 
“您的皮箱里有什么衣服？” 
“我的皮箱里？我只带了一个旅行皮包。” 
“我肯定您的确没有带别的东西来。一个人何必带那么多东西来给自己添麻烦呢？而且，象您这样的一位老军人在出门的时候，总是喜欢尽可能地少带行李的。” 
“就是因为这个我才——” 
“但您是一个谨慎又有远见的人，所以您事先派人把您的行李运来。现在已经运到黎希留路太子旅馆了。您就住在那儿。” 
“那么在那些箱子里——” 
“我想您已经吩咐您的贴身跟班把您大概需要用的衣服都放进去了——您的便服和制服。逢到大场面，您必须穿上您的制服，看起来才威严。别忘了佩上您的勋章。法国人虽然还在嘲笑勋章，但总还是把它们戴在身上。” 
“好极了！好极了！”少校喜不自禁地说。 
“现在，”基督山说，“您已经做好了准备，不会再兴奋过度了，我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，请等着和您那个失散的安德烈团聚吧。” 
说着，基督山鞠了一躬，退到门帷后面，让少校自个儿沉浸在狂喜里。 
Chapter 56 Andrea Cavalcanti
 THE COUNT of Monte Cristo entered the adjoining room, which Baptistin had designated as the drawing-room, and found there a young man, of graceful demeanor and elegant appearance, who had arrived in a cab about half an hour previously. Baptistin had not found any difficulty in recognizing the person who presented himself at the door for admittance. He was certainly the tall young man with light hair, red heard, black eyes, and brilliant complexion, whom his master had so particularly described to him. When the count entered the room the young man was carelessly stretched on a sofa, tapping his boot with the gold-headed cane which he held in his hand. On perceiving the count he rose quickly. "The Count of Monte Cristo, I believe?" said he. 
"Yes, sir, and I think I have the honor of addressing Count Andrea Cavalcanti?" 
"Count Andrea Cavalcanti," repeated the young man, accompanying his words with a bow. 
"You are charged with a letter of introduction addressed to me, are you not?" said the count. 
"I did not mention that, because the signature seemed to me so strange." 
"The letter signed 'Sinbad the Sailor,' is it not?" 
"Exactly so. Now, as I have never known any Sinbad, with the exception of the one celebrated in the Thousand and One Nights----" 
"Well, it is one of his descendants, and a great friend of mine; he is a very rich Englishman, eccentric almost to insanity, and his real name is Lord Wilmore." 
"Ah, indeed? Then that explains everything that is extraordinary," said Andrea. "He is, then, the same Englishman whom I met--at--ah--yes, indeed. Well, monsieur, I am at your service." 
"If what you say be true," replied the count, smiling, "perhaps you will be kind enough to give me some account of yourself and your family?" 
"Certainly, I will do so," said the young man, with a quickness which gave proof of his ready invention. "I am (as you have said) the Count Andrea Cavalcanti, son of Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, a descendant of the Cavalcanti whose names are inscribed in the golden book at Florence. Our family, although still rich (for my father's income amounts to half a million), has experienced many misfortunes, and I myself was, at the age of five years, taken away by the treachery of my tutor, so that for fifteen years I have not seen the author of my existence. Since I have arrived at years of discretion and become my own master, I have been constantly seeking him, but all in vain. At length I received this letter from your friend, which states that my father is in Paris, and authorizes me to address myself to you for information respecting him." 
"Really, all you have related to me is exceedingly interesting," said Monte Cristo, observing the young man with a gloomy satisfaction; "and you have done well to conform in everything to the wishes of my friend Sinbad; for your father is indeed here, and is seeking you." 
The count from the moment of first entering the drawing-room, had not once lost sight of the expression of the young man's countenance; he had admired the assurance of his look and the firmness of his voice; but at these words, so natural in themselves, "Your father is indeed here, and is seeking you," young Andrea started, and exclaimed, "My father? Is my father here?" 
"Most undoubtedly," replied Monte Cristo; "your father, Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti." The expression of terror which, for the moment, had overspread the features of the young man, had now disappeared. "Ah, yes, that is the name, certainly. Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti. And you really mean to say; monsieur, that my dear father is here?" 
"Yes, sir; and I can even add that I have only just left his company. The history which he related to me of his lost son touched me to the quick; indeed, his griefs, hopes, and fears on that subject might furnish material for a most touching and pathetic poem. At length, he one day received a letter, stating that the abductors of his son now offered to restore him, or at least to give notice where he might be found, on condition of receiving a large sum of money, by way of ransom. Your father did not hesitate an instant, and the sum was sent to the frontier of Piedmont, with a passport signed for Italy. You were in the south of France, I think?" 
"Yes," replied Andrea, with an embarrassed air, "I was in the south of France." 
"A carriage was to await you at Nice?" 
"Precisely so; and it conveyed me from Nice to Genoa, from Genoa to Turin, from Turin to Chambéry, from Chambéry to Pont-de-Beauvoisin, and from Pont-de-Beauvoisin to Paris." 
"Indeed? Then your father ought to have met with you on the road, for it is exactly the same route which he himself took, and that is how we have been able to trace your journey to this place." 
"But," said Andrea, "if my father had met me, I doubt if he would have recognized me; I must be somewhat altered since he last saw me." 
"Oh, the voice of nature," said Monte Cristo. 
"True," interrupted the young man, "I had not looked upon it in that light." 
"Now," replied Monte Cristo "there is only one source of uneasiness left in your father's mind, which is this--he is anxious to know how you have been employed during your long absence from him, how you have been treated by your persecutors, and if they have conducted themselves towards you with all the deference due to your rank. Finally, he is anxious to see if you have been fortunate enough to escape the bad moral influence to which you have been exposed, and which is infinitely more to be dreaded than any physical suffering; he wishes to discover if the fine abilities with which nature had endowed you have been weakened by want of culture; and, in short, whether you consider yourself capable of resuming and retaining in the world the high position to which your rank entitles you." 
"Sir!" exclaimed the young man, quite astounded, "I hope no false report"-- 
"As for myself, I first heard you spoken of by my friend Wilmore, the philanthropist. I believe he found you in some unpleasant position, but do not know of what nature, for I did not ask, not being inquisitive. Your misfortunes engaged his sympathies, so you see you must have been interesting. He told me that he was anxious to restore you to the position which you had lost, and that he would seek your father until he found him. He did seek, and has found him, apparently, since he is here now; and, finally, my friend apprised me of your coming, and gave me a few other instructions relative to your future fortune. I am quite aware that my friend Wilmore is peculiar, but he is sincere, and as rich as a gold-mine, consequently, he may indulge his eccentricities without any fear of their ruining him, and I have promised to adhere to his instructions. Now, sir, pray do not be offended at the question I am about to put to you, as it comes in the way of my duty as your patron. I would wish to know if the misfortunes which have happened to you--misfortunes entirely beyond your control, and which in no degree diminish my regard for you--I would wish to know if they have not, in some measure, contributed to render you a stranger to the world in which your fortune and your name entitle you to make a conspicuous figure?" 
"Sir," returned the young man, with a reassurance of manner, "make your mind easy on this score. Those who took me from my father, and who always intended, sooner or later, to sell me again to my original proprietor, as they have now done, calculated that, in order to make the most of their bargain, it would be politic to leave me in possession of all my personal and hereditary worth, and even to increase the value, if possible. I have, therefore, received a very good education, and have been treated by these kidnappers very much as the slaves were treated in Asia Minor, whose masters made them grammarians, doctors, and philosophers, in order that they might fetch a higher price in the Roman market." Monte Cristo smiled with satisfaction; it appeared as if he had not expected so much from M. Andrea Cavalcanti. "Besides," continued the young man, "if there did appear some defect in education, or offence against the established forms of etiquette, I suppose it would be excused, in consideration of the misfortunes which accompanied my birth, and followed me through my youth." 
"Well," said Monte Cristo in an indifferent tone, "you will do as you please, count, for you are the master of your own actions, and are the person most concerned in the matter, but if I were you, I would not divulge a word of these adventures. Your history is quite a romance, and the world, which delights in romances in yellow covers, strangely mistrusts those which are bound in living parchment, even though they be gilded like yourself. This is the kind of difficulty which I wished to represent to you, my dear count. You would hardly have recited your touching history before it would go forth to the world, and be deemed unlikely and unnatural. You would be no longer a lost child found, but you would be looked upon as an upstart, who had sprung up like a mushroom in the night. You might excite a little curiosity, but it is not every one who likes to be made the centre of observation and the subject of unpleasant remark." 
"I agree with you, monsieur," said the young man, turning pale, and, in spite of himself, trembling beneath the scrutinizing look of his companion, "such consequences would be extremely unpleasant." 
"Nevertheless, you must not exaggerate the evil," said Monte Cristo, "for by endeavoring to avoid one fault you will fall into another. You must resolve upon one simple and single line of conduct, and for a man of your intelligence, this plan is as easy as it is necessary; you must form honorable friendships, and by that means counteract the prejudice which may attach to the obscurity of your former life." Andrea visibly changed countenance. "I would offer myself as your surety and friendly adviser," said Monte Cristo, "did I not possess a moral distrust of my best friends, and a sort of inclination to lead others to doubt them too; therefore, in departing from this rule, I should (as the actors say) be playing a part quite out of my line, and should, therefore, run the risk of being hissed, which would be an act of folly." 
"However, your excellency," said Andrea, "in consideration of Lord Wilmore, by whom I was recommended to you--" 
"Yes, certainly," interrupted Monte Cristo; "but Lord Wilmore did not omit to inform me, my dear M. Andrea, that the season of your youth was rather a stormy one. Ah," said the count, watching Andrea's countenance, "I do not demand any confession from you; it is precisely to avoid that necessity that your father was sent for from Lucca. You shall soon see him. He is a little stiff and pompous in his manner, and he is disfigured by his uniform; but when it becomes known that he has been for eighteen years in the Austrian service, all that will be pardoned. We are not generally very severe with the Austrians. In short, you will find your father a very presentable person, I assure you." 
"Ah, sir, you have given me confidence; it is so long since we were separated, that I have not the least remembrance of him, and, besides, you know that in the eyes of the world a large fortune covers all defects." 
"He is a millionaire--his income is 500,000 francs." 
"Then," said the young man, with anxiety, "I shall be sure to be placed in an agreeable position." 
"One of the most agreeable possible, my dear sir; he will allow you an income of 50,000 livres per annum during the whole time of your stay in Paris." 
"Then in that case I shall always choose to remain there." 
"You cannot control circumstances, my dear sir; 'man proposes, and God disposes.'" Andrea sighed. "But," said he, "so long as I do remain in Paris, and nothing forces me to quit it, do you mean to tell me that I may rely on receiving the sum you just now mentioned to me?" 
"You may." 
"Shall I receive it from my father?" asked Andrea, with some uneasiness. 
"Yes, you will receive it from your father personally, but Lord Wilmore will be the security for the money. He has, at the request of your father, opened an account of 6,000 francs a month at M. Danglars', which is one of the safest banks in Paris." 
"And does my father mean to remain long in Paris?" asked Andrea. 
"Only a few days," replied Monte Cristo. "His service does not allow him to absent himself more than two or three weeks together." 
"Ah, my dear father!" exclaimed Andrea, evidently charmed with the idea of his speedy departure. 
"Therefore," said Monte Cristo feigning to mistake his meaning--"therefore I will not, for another instant, retard the pleasure of your meeting. Are you prepared to embrace your worthy father?" 
"I hope you do not doubt it." 
"Go, then, into the drawing-room, my young friend, where you will find your father awaiting you." Andrea made a low bow to the count, and entered the adjoining room. Monte Cristo watched him till he disappeared, and then touched a spring in a panel made to look like a picture, which, in sliding partly from the frame, discovered to view a small opening, so cleverly contrived that it revealed all that was passing in the drawing-room now occupied by Cavalcanti and Andrea. The young man closed the door behind him, and advanced towards the major, who had risen when he heard steps approaching him. "Ah, my dear father!" said Andrea in a loud voice, in order that the count might hear him in the next room, "is it really you?" 
"How do you do, my dear son?" said the major gravely. 
"After so many years of painful separation," said Andrea, in the same tone of voice, and glancing towards the door, "what a happiness it is to meet again!" 
"Indeed it is, after so long a separation." 
"Will you not embrace me, sir?" said Andrea. 
"If you wish it, my son," said the major; and the two men embraced each other after the fashion of actors on the stage; that is to say, each rested his head on the other's shoulder. 
"Then we are once more reunited?" said Andrea. 
"Once more," replied the major. 
"Never more to be separated?" 
"Why, as to that--I think, my dear son, you must be by this time so accustomed to France as to look upon it almost as a second country." 
"The fact is," said the young man, "that I should be exceedingly grieved to leave it." 
"As for me, you must know I cannot possibly live out of Lucca; therefore I shall return to Italy as soon as I can." 
"But before you leave France, my dear father, I hope you will put me in possession of the documents which will be necessary to prove my descent." 
"Certainly; I am come expressly on that account; it has cost me much trouble to find you, but I had resolved on giving them into your hands, and if I had to recommence my search, it would occupy all the few remaining years of my life." 
"Where are these papers, then?" 
"Here they are." 
Andrea seized the certificate of his father's marriage and his own baptismal register, and after having opened them with all the eagerness which might be expected under the circumstances, he read them with a facility which proved that he was accustomed to similar documents, and with an expression which plainly denoted an unusual interest in the contents. When he had perused the documents, an indefinable expression of pleasure lighted up his countenance, and looking at the major with a most peculiar smile, he said, in very excellent Tuscan,--"Then there is no longer any such thing, in Italy as being condemned to the galleys?" The major drew himself up to his full height. 
"Why?--what do you mean by that question?" 
"I mean that if there were, it would be impossible to draw up with impunity two such deeds as these. In France, my dear sir, half such a piece of effrontery as that would cause you to be quickly despatched to Toulon for five years, for change of air." 
"Will you be good enough to explain your meaning?" said the major, endeavoring as much as possible to assume an air of the greatest majesty. 
"My dear M. Cavalcanti," said Andrea, taking the major by the arm in a confidential manner, "how much are you paid for being my father?" The major was about to speak, when Andrea continued, in a low voice. 
"Nonsense, I am going to set you an example of confidence, they give me 50,000 francs a year to be your son; consequently, you can understand that it is not at all likely I shall ever deny my parent." The major looked anxiously around him. "Make yourself easy, we are quite alone," said Andrea; "besides, we are conversing in Italian." 
"Well, then," replied the major, "they paid me 50,000 francs down." 
"Monsieur Cavalcanti," said Andrea, "do you believe in fairy tales?" 
"I used not to do so, but I really feel now almost obliged to have faith in them." 
"You have, then, been induced to alter your opinion; you have had some proofs of their truth?" The major drew from his pocket a handful of gold. "Most palpable proofs," said he, "as you may perceive." 
"You think, then, that I may rely on the count's promises?" 
"Certainly I do." 
"You are sure he will keep his word with me?" 
"To the letter, but at the same time, remember, we must continue to play our respective parts. I, as a tender father"-- 
"And I as a dutiful son, as they choose that I shall be descended from you." 
"Whom do you mean by they?" 
"Ma foi! I can hardly tell, but I was alluding to those who wrote the letter; you received one, did you not?" 
"Yes." 
"From whom?" 
"From a certain Abbé Busoni." 
"Have you any knowledge of him?" 
"No, I have never seen him." 
"What did he say in the letter?" 
"You will promise not to betray me?" 
"Rest assured of that; you well know that our interests are the same." 
"Then read for yourself;" and the major gave a letter into the young man's hand. Andrea read in a low voice-- 
"You are poor; a miserable old age awaits you. Would you like to become rich, or at least independent? Set out immediately for Paris, and demand of the Count of Monte Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysées, No. 30, the son whom you had by the Marchesa Corsinari, and who was taken from you at five years of age. This son is named Andrea Cavalcanti. In order that you may not doubt the kind intention of the writer of this letter, you will find enclosed an order for 2,400 francs, payable in Florence, at Signor Gozzi's; also a letter of introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, on whom I give you a draft of 48,000 francs. Remember to go to the count on the 26th May at seven o'clock in the evening. 
(Signed) 
"ABBé BUSONI." 
"It is the same." 
"What do you mean?" said the major. 
"I was going to say that I received a letter almost to the same effect." 
"You?" 
"Yes." 
"From the Abbé Busoni?" 
"No." 
"From whom, then?" 
"From an Englishman, called Lord Wilmore, who takes the name of Sinbad the Sailor." 
"And of whom you have no more knowledge than I of the Abbé Busoni?" 
"You are mistaken; there I am ahead of you." 
"You have seen him, then?" 
"Yes, once." 
"Where?" 
"Ah, that is just what I cannot tell you; if I did, I should make you as wise as myself, which it is not my intention to do." 
"And what did the letter contain?" 
"Read it." 
"'You are poor, and your future prospects are dark and gloomy. Do you wish for a name? should you like to be rich, and your own master?'" 
"Ma foi!" said the young man; "was it possible there could be two answers to such a question?" 
"Take the post-chaise which you will find waiting at the Porte de Gênes, as you enter Nice; pass through Turin, Chambéry, and Pont-de-Beauvoisin. Go to the Count of Monte Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysées, on the 26th of May, at seven o'clock in the evening, and demand of him your father. You are the son of the Marchese Cavalcanti and the Marchesa Oliva Corsinari. The marquis will give you some papers which will certify this fact, and authorize you to appear under that name in the Parisian world. As to your rank, an annual income of 50,000 livres will enable you to support it admirably. I enclose a draft for 5,000 livres, payable on M. Ferrea, banker at Nice, and also a letter of introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, whom I have directed to supply all your wants. 
"SINBAD THE SAILOR." 
"Humph," said the major; "very good. You have seen the count, you say?" 
"I have only just left him " 
"And has he conformed to all that the letter specified?" 
"He has." 
"Do you understand it?" 
"Not in the least." 
"There is a dupe somewhere." 
"At all events, it is neither you nor I." 
"Certainly not." 
"Well, then"-- 
"Why, it does not much concern us, do you think it does?" 
"No; I agree with you there. We must play the game to the end, and consent to be blindfold." 
"Ah, you shall see; I promise you I will sustain my part to admiration." 
"I never once doubted your doing so." Monte Cristo chose this moment for re-entering the drawing-room. On hearing the sound of his footsteps, the two men threw themselves in each other's arms, and while they were in the midst of this embrace, the count entered. "Well, marquis," said Monte Cristo, "you appear to be in no way disappointed in the son whom your good fortune has restored to you." 
"Ah, your excellency, I am overwhelmed with delight." 
"And what are your feelings?" said Monte Cristo, turning to the young man. 
"As for me, my heart is overflowing with happiness." 
"Happy father, happy son!" said the count. 
"There is only one thing which grieves me," observed the major, "and that is the necessity for my leaving Paris so soon." 
"Ah, my dear M. Cavalcanti, I trust you will not leave before I have had the honor of presenting you to some of my friends." 
"I am at your service, sir," replied the major. 
"Now, sir," said Monte Cristo, addressing Andrea, "make your confession." 
"To whom?" 
"Tell M. Cavalcanti something of the state of your finances." 
"Ma foi! monsieur, you have touched upon a tender chord." 
"Do you hear what he says, major?" 
"Certainly I do." 
"But do you understand?" 
"I do." 
"Your son says he requires money." 
"Well, what would you have me do?" said the major. 
"You should furnish him with some of course," replied Monte Cristo. 
"I?" 
"Yes, you," said the count, at the same time advancing towards Andrea, and slipping a packet of bank-notes into the young man's hand. 
"What is this?" 
"It is from your father." 
"From my father?" 
"Yes; did you not tell him just now that you wanted money? Well, then, he deputes me to give you this." 
"Am I to consider this as part of my income on account?" 
"No, it is for the first expenses of your settling in Paris." 
"Ah, how good my dear father is!" 
"Silence," said Monte Cristo; "he does not wish you to know that it comes from him." 
"I fully appreciate his delicacy," said Andrea, cramming the notes hastily into his pocket. 
"And now, gentlemen, I wish you good-morning," said Monte Cristo. 
"And when shall we have the honor of seeing you again, your excellency?" asked Cavalcanti. 
"Ah," said Andrea, "when may we hope for that pleasure?" 
"On Saturday, if you will--Yes.--Let me see--Saturday--I am to dine at my country house, at Auteuil, on that day, Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28. Several persons are invited, and among others, M. Danglars, your banker. I will introduce you to him, for it will be necessary he should know you, as he is to pay your money." 
"Full dress?" said the major, half aloud. 
"Oh, yes, certainly," said the count; "uniform, cross, knee-breeches." 
"And how shall I be dressed?" demanded Andrea. 
"Oh, very simply; black trousers, patent leather boots, white waistcoat, either a black or blue coat, and a long cravat. Go to Blin or Veronique for your clothes. Baptistin will tell you where, if you do not know their address. The less pretension there is in your attire, the better will be the effect, as you are a rich man. If you mean to buy any horses, get them of Devedeux, and if you purchase a phaeton, go to Baptiste for it." 
"At what hour shall we come?" asked the young man. 
"About half-past six." 
"We will be with you at that time," said the major. The two Cavalcanti bowed to the count, and left the house. Monte Cristo went to the window, and saw them crossing the street, arm in arm. "There go two miscreants;" said he, "it is a pity they are not really related!"--then, after an instant of gloomy reflection, "Come, I will go to see the Morrels," said he; "I think that disgust is even more sickening than hatred."  
基督山伯爵走进隔壁房间，也就是巴浦斯汀所说的那个蓝客厅的房间，看到里面有一个风度翩翩、仪表温雅的青年。 
他在半小时前乘着一辆出租马车来到这里。他来登门求见的时候，巴浦斯汀轻易地认出了他是谁，因为伯爵事先已向他详细描述过来客的相貌，所以一看见这位黄头发、棕色胡子、黑色眼睛、白色皮肤、身材高大的青年，自然就毫无疑问了。 
伯爵走进来的时候，这位青年正随便地躺在一张沙发上，用手里拿着的那根金头手杖轻轻敲打他的皮靴。一见伯爵进来，他赶紧站起来。“是基督山伯爵吧，我想？”他说。 
“是的，阁下，我想您就是安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵阁下吧？” 
“安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵。”青年一面重复说着这个头衔，一面鞠了一躬。 
“您带了一封介绍信来见我，是不是？”伯爵说。 
“我之所以没有提及那一点，是因为我觉得那个署名非常古怪。” 
“‘水手辛巴德’，是不是？” 
“一点不错。因为除了《一千零一夜》里那位声名赫赫的辛巴德外，我从来就不认识姓这个姓的任何一个人——” 
“哦！他就是那个辛巴德的一个后裔，而且是我的一个好朋友。他是个非常有钱的英国人，为人古怪得几近疯狂。他的真名叫威玛勋爵。” 
“啊，是这样！那就都明白了，”安德烈说，“那倒是很特别的。那么，这个英国人就是我在——啊——是的——好极了！伯爵阁下，我悉听您的吩咐就是了。” 
“如果您说的都是实情，伯爵微笑着说道，“大概您可以把您自己和府上的事情讲一点给我听听？” 
“当然可以，”青年说，他的神色很从容，显示他的记忆力很健全。“我，正如您所说的，是安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵，巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校的儿子——我们卡瓦尔康蒂这个家族的名字曾铭刻在佛罗伦萨的金书上。本族虽然还很富有（因为家父的收入达五十万，却曾遭受过许多挫折，而在我五岁的时候就让我那位奸诈的家庭教师拐走，所以我已经十五年没见到我生身之父了。等我到了能了解事实之年，可以自主以后，我就一直不停地找他，但都一无所获。最后，我接到您朋友的这封信，说家父在巴黎，并叫我亲自找您来打听他的消息。” 
“真的，您所讲的这些话我觉得非常有趣，”基督山怀着阴沉的满意望着那个青年说，“您把您的所有心事都倾诉给敝友辛巴德做的很对，因为您的父亲的确就在这儿，而且正在寻找您。” 
伯爵从走进客厅来的那一刻起，一直就没有一刻忽略过那个青年脸上的表情。他很佩服他神情的平定和声音的稳健；但一听到“您的父亲的确就在这儿，而且正在寻找您”这两句十分平常的话，小安德烈吃了一惊，喊道：“我的父亲！我的父亲在这儿？” 
“这没有什么好怀疑的，”基督山答道，“令尊，巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校。” 
那一时布满青年脸上的恐怖神色几乎立刻就烟消云散。 
“啊，是的！当然是叫那个名字，”他说：“巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校。而您真的是说，伯爵阁下，我那位亲爱的父亲就在这儿吗？” 
“是的，阁下，我甚至还可以再说上一句，我刚才还跟他在一起呢。他跟我讲起他失子的那些经过，我听后深受感动。确实，他在那一件事上的忧虑、希望和恐惧完全可以用作一首最哀怨动人的诗作的素材。有一天，他总算收到一封信，说拐走他儿子的那帮人现在愿意归还给他，至少可以通知他上哪儿去找，但要得到一大笔钱作赎金。令尊毫不迟疑，差人把那笔款子送到皮埃蒙特边境上，还带去了一张去意大利的护照。您那时是在法国南部吧，我想？” 
“是的，”安德烈用一种尴尬的口气答道，’我是在法国南部。” 
“一辆马车派在尼斯等您。” 
“一点不错。它载着我从尼斯到热那亚，从热那亚到都灵，从都灵到尚贝里，从尚贝里到波伏森湖，又从波伏森湖到巴黎。” 
“是这样！那么令尊应该在路上碰到您了，因为他恰好也是走那条路线来的，照此推算，路上经过的各站一点都不错。” 
“但是，”安德烈说，“即使家父曾碰到过我，我也很怀疑他是不是还认得我，从他最后那次见我以来，我肯定已有多少变化了。” 
“噢，俗话说父子天性呀。”基督山说。 
“没错，”青年说，“我倒没有想到父子天性这一句俗语。” 
“令尊的心里现在就对一件事还觉得有点不踏实，”基督山答道，“就是他迫切想知道您在离开他的那一段时间里情况。那些害您的人怎么对待您，他们对您的态度是否还顾及过您的身份。最后，他迫切想知道您是不是有幸地摆脱过精神上的不良影响，那肯定要比任何肉体上的痛苦更不可忍受，他希望知道您天生的优良本性有没有因为缺乏教育而被削弱。总之，您自己到底认为您能不能重新在社会上维持与您高贵的身份相称的地位。” 
“阁下，”青年喃喃地说，简直吓傻了，“我希望没有什么谣言——” 
“就我个人说，我第一次听到您的大名是那位慈善家敝友威玛告诉我的。我相信他初次和您相见的时候您的境况颇不愉快，但详细情形我不了解，因为我并没有细问，我不是一个好究根问底的人。您的不幸引起了他的同情，所以您那时候的状况肯定很有意思。他跟我说，他非常想恢复您所丧失的地位，一定要找到令尊不可。他真的去找了，而且显然已找到了他，因为他现在已经在这儿了。最后，敝友通知我您快要来了，并且给了我有关您前途的幸福的指令。我知道敝友威玛是个奇人，但他为人很诚恳，而且金矿一般富有，所以他可以随心所欲按他的怪癖行事而不必担心自己会倾家荡产，而我也已答应执行他的指令。先生，我现在站在赞助人位置上觉得有责任问您一个问题，请千万不必介意。按照您的财产和名份，您就要成为一位显赫人物，我很想知道，您所遭遇的不幸——这种不幸绝不是您自己所能应付，因此一点儿都不减少我对您的敬意——我很想知道，他们有没有做过什么而让您对快要踏入的那个社会茫然无知？” 
“阁下，”青年回答，在伯爵说话的时候，他已逐渐恢复了他的自信心，“这方面您放心好了。把我从家父身边拐走的那些人，正象他们现在事实上已经表现出来的那样，从来都存心要把我卖回给他的，而出于使他们的交易获得最大利益的打算，最妙的办法，莫过于让我保全我的社会身份和天资，如果可能的话，甚至还需要加以改进。小亚细亚的奴隶主常常培养他们的奴隶当文法教师、医生和哲学家，以便可以在罗马市场上卖个好价钱，那些拐子待我也正是这样，所以我倒受了很好的教育。”基督山满意地微笑了一下，看来好象他原来并没想到安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生能这样机警老练似的。“而且，”那位青年人继续说，“即使在教育上有什么不足的地方，或者对于既定的礼仪有什么违误之外，但念及我与生俱来以及此后始终伴随着我的整个幼年时代的不幸，他们也会予以谅解的。” 
“很好，”基督山用一种局外人的口吻说，“悉听尊便，子爵，因为您的行为当然得您自己作主，而且跟您也最利害相关。但如果我是您，我对于这些奇遇就一个字都不说出去。您的身世简直就是一篇传奇式的故事。世人虽然喜欢夹在两张黄纸封面之间的传奇故事，但说来奇怪，对于那些装在活生生的羊皮纸里面的，却反而不肯相信，即使出之于象您这样一位体面的人物之口。我很想提醒您这一类的麻烦，子爵阁下。要是您对什么人谈起您这段动人的身世，那么您的话还没说完，就会传得沸沸扬扬，而且被认为象是编造的。您因此就不再是一个被拐走而又寻获的孩子，而会被人看作一个象夜间长出来的香蕈那样的暴发户。您也许会引起一些人小小的好奇心，而成了人们谈话的中心和流言蜚语的题目，看来总不是谁都愿意的。” 
“我同意您的看法，伯爵阁下，”青年说道，在基督山的目光的逼视下，他的脸色不禁变得苍白起来。“这种结果的确不愉快。” 
“但是，您当然用不着夸大您的不幸，”基督山说，“但也不必为了竭力避免以至顾此失彼。您必须下决心采取一条单纯的行动路线，而象您这么个聪明人，这个计划很容易做得到，而且也十分必要。您必须结交一些好朋友，以此来抵销那种您以前的微贱生活可能招致的偏见。”安德烈脸上顿然失色。“我本来可以提出来作您的担保人和可靠的顾问，”基督山说，“但我生性对我最好的朋友也有怀疑的态度，而且很愿意使他们对我也有这种态度，所以，要是背离了这条规则，我就等于在扮演外行角色，很有被嘲笑的危险，那未免就太傻了。” 
“但是，伯爵阁下，”安德烈说，“我是威玛勋爵介绍来见您的，看他的份儿上——” 
“是的，当然罗，”基督山打断他的话说，“我亲爱的安德烈先生，但威玛勋爵并没有忘记告诉我您的幼年生活颇多风波。”伯爵注视着安德烈的脸说，“我并不要求您向我说明，而且，正是因为免得您有求于任何人，才到卢卡去请令尊来的。您马上就可以见到他了。他的为人稍微有点拘谨和高傲，而且因为穿着制服关系，仪表上差了一点，但大家知道了他在奥地利军团中服役的时候，一切都可以得到谅解了。我们对奥地利人一般都不十分苛求。反正，您一会儿就会知道令尊是一位很体面的人物，我可以向您保证。” 
“啊，先生，您让我放心了，我们分别已经这么久，所以我一点儿记不得他长什么样子了。” 
“而且，您知道，在一般人们的眼睛里，一笔大家产是可以弥补一切缺陷的。” 
“那么，家父真的很有钱吗，阁下？” 
“他是位大富翁——他的年收入达五十万里弗。” 
“那么，”青年急切地说，“我的境况一定可以很体面了。” 
“最体面不过了，我亲爱的先生。在您住在巴黎的期间，他每年可以让您有五万里弗的收入。” 
“真是这样的话，我情愿永远留在这儿了。” 
“环境是您无能为力的，我亲爱的先生，‘谋事在人，成事在天’。” 
安德烈叹息了一声。“但是，”他说，“在我留在巴黎而不必非得离开的期间，您真认为我可以拿到您刚才向我说过的那笔款子吗？” 
“可以。” 
“从家父手里拿吗？”安德烈略带不安地问。 
“是的，您可以亲自向令尊要，那笔钱威玛勋爵可以担保。他按令尊的要求，在腾格拉尔先生那儿开了一个月支五千法郎的户头，腾格拉尔先生的银行是巴黎最保险的银行之一。” 
“家父打算长住巴黎吗？”安德烈问。 
“就住几天，”基督山答道。“他的职务原因，不便一次离开两三个星期以上。” 
“啊，我亲爱的父亲！”安德烈喊道，显然很高兴他这么快就离开。 
“所以，”基督山说，假装误会了他的意思——“所以我不再拖延你们这次难得的会面了。你做好准备去拥抱您的可爱的父亲了吗？” 
“我希望您不会怀疑这一点。” 
“去吧，那么，在客厅里，我的青年朋友，可以看见令尊正在那儿等候您。” 
安德烈向伯爵深深地鞠了一躬，走进隔壁房间。基督山一直注视到看不见他了，然后按了一按一个机关。这个机关从外表看象是一幅画。按过之后，镜框滑开一块儿，露出一条小缝，小缝设计得非常巧妙，从那儿可以窥见那间现在卡瓦尔康蒂和安德烈所在的客厅里的一切情形。那位青年人随手把门带上，朝少校走过去，少校听到向他走过来的脚步声，就站起身来。“啊！我亲爱的爸爸！”安德烈说，声音很响，希望让隔壁房间里的伯爵听得到，“真的是您吗？” 
“你好吗，我亲爱的儿子？”少校郑重地说。 
“经过这么多年痛苦的分别后，”安德烈以同样的口吻说，并瞟了一眼那扇门，“现在又重逢了，多么让人快活！” 
“真是这样，经过这么多年的分别。” 
“您不拥抱我吗，大人？”安德烈说。 
“可以的，如果你愿意的话，我的儿子。”少校说。于是那两个男人象在舞台上演戏样的拥抱起来，也就是各自把头搁在对方的肩胛上。 
“那么我们又团圆了吗？”安德烈说。 
“又团圆啦！”少校回答。 
“永远不分离了吗？” 
“哦，关于那一点，我想，我亲爱的儿子，您现在一定在法国住惯了，快把它当作你的祖国了吧。” 
“实际上，”青年说，“要我离开巴黎，我真难过极了。” 
“对于我，您得知道，我是不能长期离开卢卡的，所以我得尽快赶回意大利去。” 
“但在您离开法国以前，我亲爱的爸爸，我希望您能把那些证明我身份的必要证明文件交给我。” 
“当然喽，我这次就是专门为这件事来的。我费了那么大的苦心来找你——就是为了要把那些文件交给你——我实在不想再来找一次了，要是再找一次的话，我的残年都要耗费在这上面啦。” 
“那么，这些文件在哪儿呢？” 
“就在这儿。” 
安德烈把他父亲的结婚证书和他自己的受洗证明书一把抢过来，急不可待地打开它们（在此情此景之下，他的急切是很自然的），然后十分迅速地把它们看了一遍，看得出他是常看这一类文件的；从他脸上的表情可以看出他对文件的内容极感兴趣。他看完那些证件的时候，他的脸上洋溢出一种无比兴奋的表情。他用一种最古怪的微笑望着少校，用非常纯正的托斯卡纳语说：“那么意大利已废止苦役船了吗？” 
少校身子挺得笔直。“什么？这个问题是什么意思？” 
“因为编造这一类文件是要吃官司的。在法国，我最最亲爱的爸爸啊，只需做一半这种程度的手脚，他们就会把您送到土伦去呼吸五年监狱里的空气的呀。” 
“请你把你的意思说明一下好不好？”少校极力做出一种庄重的神气说。 
“我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”安德烈用一种诚恳的神态握住少校的手臂说，“你做我的父亲得了多少钱？”少校想说话，但安德烈压低了声音继续说，“无聊！我给你做个榜样好使你放心，他们一年付我五万法郎做你的儿子，因此，你能明白我决不愿意不承认你做我的爸爸。”少校焦急地往四下看了一眼。“你放心吧，只有我们两个人，”安德烈说，“而且，我们是在用意大利语谈话。” 
“哦，那么，”少校答道，“他们付我五万法郎。” 
“卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”安德烈说，“你相不相信童话？” 
“我以前是不相信的，但我真的觉得现在几乎不得不相信它们啦。” 
“那么，你总该有点证据吧？” 
少校从他的口袋里摸出一把金币来。“你看，”他说，很明白吧。” 
“那么，你认为我可以相信伯爵的许诺吗？” 
“我当然相信。” 
“你真相信他会对我恪守他的诺言？” 
“恪守信上的话，但同时，请记住我们必须继续扮演我们各自的角色。我当一位慈父——” 
“我当一个孝子，既然他们选定了我做你的后代。” 
“你这个‘他们’是指谁？” 
“天知道！我也说不出来，但我指的是那些写信的人。你收到了一封信，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“谁写给你的？” 
“一个什么布沙尼神甫。” 
“你认不认识他？” 
“不认识，我从来没有见过他。” 
“他在那封信里说了些什么？” 
“你能答应不出卖我吗？” 
“这一点你尽管放心，你很明白，我们有着共同的利害。” 
“那么你自己去念吧。”于是少校把一封信交到那青年手里。安德烈低声念道：“你穷困潦倒，等待你的是一个凄凉的晚年。你想发财吗，或者至少不仰赖他人？马上动身到巴黎去，找香榭丽舍大道三十号门牌的基督山伯爵去要你的儿子。这个儿子名叫安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂，是您和高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的婚姻果实，五岁的时候被人拐走。为了免得让你怀疑写这封信的人的真诚，先附奉两千四百托斯卡纳里弗的支票一张，请到佛罗伦萨高齐银行去兑现；并附上致基督山伯爵的介绍函一封，函内述明我许你向他提用四万八千法郎。记住到伯爵那儿去的时间是在五月二十六日晚上七点钟。 
——布沙尼神甫“一样的东西。” 
“你是什么意思？”少校说。 
“我的意思是我收到一封差不多一样的信。” 
“你？” 
“是的。” 
“布沙尼神甫写来的？” 
“不。” 
“谁，那么？” 
“一个英国人，名叫威玛勋爵，他化名叫水手辛巴德。” 
“那么对他，你对布沙尼神甫知道得并不比我多吧。” 
“你错了，在那一方面，我比你好一些。” 
“那么你见过他喽？” 
“是的，一次。” 
“在哪儿见的？” 
“啊！那一点恰恰我不能告诉你，如果告诉了你，你就会跟我一样明白了，我并不想那样做。” 
“信里面讲了些什么？” 
“念吧。” 
“你很穷，你的未来阴暗无望。你想做一个贵人吗，喜不喜欢发财和自由自在？” 
“我的天！”青年说，“这样的问题还可能有两种答案吗？” 
“请到尼斯去，你可以在几尼司门找到一辆等候你的驿车。经都灵、尚贝里、波伏森湖到巴黎。在五月二十六日晚上七点钟到香榭丽舍大道去找基督山伯爵，找他要你的父亲。你是卡瓦尔康蒂侯爵和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的儿子。侯爵会给你一些文件证明这件事实，并许你用那个姓在巴黎社交界出现。至于你的身份，每年有五万里弗的收入就可以过得很不错了。附上五千里弗的支票一张，可到尼斯费里亚银行去兑现，并附上致基督山伯爵的介绍函一封，我已嘱他供给你一切所需。水手辛巴德” 
“好极了！”少校说，“你说，你已见过伯爵，是不是？” 
“我刚才刚从他那儿来。” 
“他有没有证实信上所说的那一切？” 
“证实了。” 
“你明白不明白是怎么一回事？” 
“一点不明白。” 
“其中肯定有一个受骗的人。” 
“反正不会是你，也不会是我。” 
“当然不是。” 
“嗯，那么——” 
“你以为这个与我们无关吗？” 
“一点不错，我正想这么说。我们把这出戏演到底吧，闭着眼睛干就行了。” 
“同意，你看吧，我一定把我的角色演得好好的。” 
“我对此丝毫不怀疑，我亲爱的爸爸。” 
基督山在这个时候又走进客厅。听到他的脚步声，两个男人就互相搂抱在了一起。伯爵进来的时候，他们仍然这样拥抱着。 
“啊，侯爵，”基督山说，“看来您对于幸运之神送还给您的这个儿子并不失望吧。” 
“啊，伯爵阁下，我高兴得不能再高兴了。” 
“您感觉如何？”基督山转过去对那个青年人说。 
“我吗？我的心里充满着欢乐。” 
“幸福的父亲！幸福的儿子！”伯爵说。 
“只是有一件事情还让我发愁，”少校说，“因为我必须马上离开巴黎。” 
“啊！我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”基督山说，“我希望您赏脸让我介绍您见见我的几位朋友，我想您可以在见过他们以后再走。” 
“我悉听您的吩咐，阁下。”少校答道。 
“现在，阁下，”基督山对安德烈说，“把您的真实情形说出来吧。” 
“说给谁听？” 
“咦，说给令尊听呀，把您的经济状况说些给他听听。” 
“啊，真的！”安德烈说，“您说到我的心里去啦。” 
“您听到他说的话了吗，少校？” 
“我当然听到了。” 
“可您懂不懂呢？” 
“懂。” 
“令郎是说他需要钱用。” 
“哦！您叫我怎么办呢？”少校说。 
“您当然应该给他一点喽。”基督山回答。 
“我？” 
“是的，您！”伯爵说，同时向安德烈走过去，把一包钞票塞到青年的手里。 
“这是什么？” 
“令尊给的。” 
“家父给的？” 
“对，您刚才不是跟他说您要钱用吗？他委托我把这包钱给您。” 
“这算是我的一部分收入吗？” 
“不算，这是您在巴黎的安家费。” 
“啊！我的爸爸多伟大呀！” 
“别嚷嚷！”基督山说，“他不想让您知道这是他给您的。” 
“我很理解他这种体贴的心思。”安德烈说，连忙把钞票塞进他的口袋。 
“现在，二位，我祝你们晚安。”基督山说道。 
“我们什么时候才能再有幸见到您呢？”卡瓦尔康蒂问。 
“啊，对！”安德烈说，“我们在什么时候才可以再这么与你愉相见快呢？” 
“星期六，如果你们——是的——让我想想看——星期六。星期六晚上我在欧特伊村芳丹街二十八号的别墅里请客人吃饭。我请了几个人，其中就有你们的银行家腾格拉尔先生。我自然会介绍你们和他见面，他必需见了你们二位的面才能付钱给你们。” 
“要穿礼服吗？”少校说，这几个字说得铿锵有劲。 
“噢，是的，当然罗！”伯爵说，“制服，十字章，扎脚裤。” 
“我穿什么呢？”安德烈问。 
“噢，很简单，黑裤子，黑皮鞋，白背心，一件黑色或蓝色的上装，一个大领结。您的衣服可以到勃林或维罗尼克那儿去订做。要是您不知道他们住在哪儿，巴浦斯汀可以告诉您。您的服装愈少修饰，效果就愈好，因为您是一个有钱人。如果您要买马，可以到德维都那儿去买，要是买马车，可以去找倍铁斯蒂。” 
“我们几点钟来？”青年问道。 
“六点钟左右。” 
“我们那时一定到。”少校说。 
卡瓦尔康蒂父子向伯爵鞠了一躬，告辞而去。基督山走到窗户前，看看他们手挽着手正往大街对面走。“这两个光棍！”他说。“可惜他们不真是父子！”于是，在沉思一会儿之后，“走，我去看看莫雷尔去！”他说，“我觉得这种厌恶感简直比憎恨还叫人受不了。” 
Chapter 57 In the Lucerne Patch
 OUR READERS must now allow us to transport them again to the enclosure surrounding M. de Villefort's house, and, behind the gate, half screened from view by the large chestnut-trees, which on all sides spread their luxuriant branches, we shall find some people of our acquaintance. This time Maximilian was the first to arrive. He was intently watching for a shadow to appear among the trees, and awaiting with anxiety the sound of a light step on the gravel walk. At length, the long-desired sound was heard, and instead of one figure, as he had expected, he perceived that two were approaching him. The delay had been occasioned by a visit from Madame Danglars and Eugénie, which had been prolonged beyond the time at which Valentine was expected. That she might not appear to fail in her promise to Maximilian, she proposed to Mademoiselle Danglars that they should take a walk in the garden, being anxious to show that the delay, which was doubtless a cause of vexation to him, was not occasioned by any neglect on her part. The young man, with the intuitive perception of a lover, quickly understood the circumstances in which she was involuntarily placed, and he was comforted. Besides, although she avoided coming within speaking distance, Valentine arranged so that Maximilian could see her pass and repass, and each time she went by, she managed, unperceived by her companion, to cast an expressive look at the young man, which seemed to say, "Have patience! You see it is not my fault." And Maximilian was patient, and employed himself in mentally contrasting the two girls,--one fair, with soft languishing eyes, a figure gracefully bending like a weeping willow; the other a brunette, with a fierce and haughty expression, and as straight as a poplar. It is unnecessary to state that, in the eyes of the young man, Valentine did not suffer by the contrast. In about half an hour the girls went away, and Maximilian understood that Mademoiselle Danglars' visit had at last come to an end. In a few minutes Valentine re-entered the garden alone. For fear that any one should be observing her return, she walked slowly; and instead of immediately directing her steps towards the gate, she seated herself on a bench, and, carefully casting her eyes around, to convince herself that she was not watched, she presently arose, and proceeded quickly to join Maximilian. 
"Good-evening, Valentine," said a well-known voice. 
"Good-evening, Maximilian; I know I have kept you waiting, but you saw the cause of my delay." 
"Yes, I recognized Mademoiselle Danglars. I was not aware that you were so intimate with her." 
"Who told you we were intimate, Maximilian?" "No one, but you appeared to be so. From the manner in which you walked and talked together, one would have thought you were two school-girls telling your secrets to each other." 
"We were having a confidential conversation," returned Valentine; "she was owning to me her repugnance to the marriage with M. de Morcerf; and I, on the other hand, was confessing to her how wretched it made me to think of marrying M. d'Epinay." 
"Dear Valentine!" 
"That will account to you for the unreserved manner which you observed between me and Eugénie, as in speaking of the man whom I could not love, my thoughts involuntarily reverted to him on whom my affections were fixed." 
"Ah, how good you are to say so, Valentine! You possess a quality which can never belong to Mademoiselle Danglars. It is that indefinable charm which is to a woman what perfume is to the flower and flavor to the fruit, for the beauty of either is not the only quality we seek." 
"It is your love which makes you look upon everything in that light." 
"No, Valentine, I assure you such is not the case. I was observing you both when you were walking in the garden, and, on my honor, without at all wishing to depreciate the beauty of Mademoiselle Danglars, I cannot understand how any man can really love her." 
"The fact is, Maximilian, that I was there, and my presence had the effect of rendering you unjust in your comparison." 
"No; but tell me--it is a question of simple curiosity, and which was suggested by certain ideas passing in my mind relative to Mademoiselle Danglars"-- 
"I dare say it is something disparaging which you are going to say. It only proves how little indulgence we may expect from your sex," interrupted Valentine. 
"You cannot, at least, deny that you are very harsh judges of each other." 
"If we are so, it is because we generally judge under the influence of excitement. But return to your question." 
"Does Mademoiselle Danglars object to this marriage with M. de Morcerf on account of loving another?" 
"I told you I was not on terms of strict intimacy with Eugénie." 
"Yes, but girls tell each other secrets without being particularly intimate; own, now, that you did question her on the subject. Ah, I see you are smiling." 
"If you are already aware of the conversation that passed, the wooden partition which interposed between us and you has proved but a slight security." 
"Come, what did she say?" 
"She told me that she loved no one," said Valentine; "that she disliked the idea of being married; that she would infinitely prefer leading an independent and unfettered life; and that she almost wished her father might lose his fortune, that she might become an artist, like her friend, Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly." 
"Ah, you see"-- 
"Well, what does that prove?" asked Valentine. 
"Nothing," replied Maximilian. 
"Then why did you smile?" 
"Why, you know very well that you are reflecting on yourself, Valentine." 
"Do you want me to go away?" 
"Ah, no, no. But do not let us lose time; you are the subject on which I wish to speak." 
"True, we must be quick, for we have scarcely ten minutes more to pass together." 
"Ma foi," said Maximilian, in consternation. 
"Yes, you are right; I am but a poor friend to you. What a life I cause you to lead, poor Maximilian, you who are formed for happiness! I bitterly reproach myself, I assure you." 
"Well, what does it signify, Valentine, so long as I am satisfied, and feel that even this long and painful suspense is amply repaid by five minutes of your society, or two words from your lips? And I have also a deep conviction that heaven would not have created two hearts, harmonizing as ours do, and almost miraculously brought us together, to separate us at last." 
"Those are kind and cheering words. You must hope for us both, Maximilian; that will make me at least partly happy." 
"But why must you leave me so soon?" 
"I do not know particulars. I can only tell you that Madame de Villefort sent to request my presence, as she had a communication to make on which a part of my fortune depended. Let them take my fortune, I am already too rich; and, perhaps, when they have taken it, they will leave me in peace and quietness. You would love me as much if I were poor, would you not, Maximilian?" 
"Oh, I shall always love you. What should I care for either riches or poverty, if my Valentine was near me, and I felt certain that no one could deprive me of her? But do you not fear that this communication may relate to your marriage?" 
"I do not think that is the case." 
"However it may be, Valentine, you must not be alarmed. I assure you that, as long as I live, I shall never love any one else!" 
"You think to reassure me when you say that, Maximilian." 
"Pardon me, you are right. I am a brute. But I was going to tell you that I met M. de Morcerf the other day." 
"Well?" 
"Monsieur Franz is his friend, you know." 
"What then?" 
"Monsieur de Morcerf has received a letter from Franz, announcing his immediate return." Valentine turned pale, and leaned her hand against the gate. "Ah heavens, if it were that! But no, the communication would not come through Madame de Villefort." 
"Why not?" 
"Because--I scarcely know why--but it has appeared as if Madame de Villefort secretly objected to the marriage, although she did not choose openly to oppose it." 
"Is it so? Then I feel as if I could adore Madame de Villefort." 
"Do not be in such a hurry to do that," said Valentine, with a sad smile. 
"If she objects to your marrying M. d'Epinay, she would be all the more likely to listen to any other proposition." 
"No, Maximilian, it is not suitors to which Madame de Villefort objects, it is marriage itself." 
"Marriage? If she dislikes that so much, why did she ever marry herself?" 
"You do not understand me, Maximilian. About a year ago, I talked of retiring to a convent. Madame de Villefort, in spite of all the remarks which she considered it her duty to make, secretly approved of the proposition, my father consented to it at her instigation, and it was only on account of my poor grandfather that I finally abandoned the project. You can form no idea of the expression of that old man's eye when he looks at me, the only person in the world whom he loves, and, I had almost said, by whom he is beloved in return. When he learned my resolution, I shall never forget the reproachful look which he cast on me, and the tears of utter despair which chased each other down his lifeless cheeks. Ah, Maximilian, I experienced, at that moment, such remorse for my intention, that, throwing myself at his feet, I exclaimed,--'Forgive me, pray forgive me, my dear grandfather; they may do what they will with me, I will never leave you.' When I had ceased speaking, he thankfully raised his eyes to heaven, but without uttering a word. Ah, Maximilian, I may have much to suffer, but I feel as if my grandfather's look at that moment would more than compensate for all." 
"Dear Valentine, you are a perfect angel, and I am sure I do not know what I--sabring right and left among the Bedouins--can have done to merit your being revealed to me, unless, indeed, heaven took into consideration the fact that the victims of my sword were infidels. But tell me what interest Madame de Villefort can have in your remaining unmarried?" 
"Did I not tell you just now that I was rich, Maximilian--too rich? I possess nearly 50,000 livres in right of my mother; my grandfather and my grandmother, the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran, will leave me as much, and M. Noirtier evidently intends making me his heir. My brother Edward, who inherits nothing from his mother, will, therefore, be poor in comparison with me. Now, if I had taken the veil, all this fortune would have descended to my father, and, in reversion, to his son." 
"Ah, how strange it seems that such a young and beautiful woman should be so avaricious." 
"It is not for herself that she is so, but for her son, and what you regard as a vice becomes almost a virtue when looked at in the light of maternal love." 
"But could you not compromise matters, and give up a portion of your fortune to her son?" 
"How could I make such a proposition, especially to a woman who always professes to be so entirely disinterested?" 
"Valentine, I have always regarded our love in the light of something sacred; consequently, I have covered it with the veil of respect, and hid it in the innermost recesses of my soul. No human being, not even my sister, is aware of its existence. Valentine, will you permit me to make a confidant of a friend and reveal to him the love I bear you?" 
Valentine started. "A friend, Maximilian; and who is this friend? I tremble to give my permission." 
"Listen, Valentine. Have you never experienced for any one that sudden and irresistible sympathy which made you feel as if the object of it had been your old and familiar friend, though, in reality, it was the first time you had ever met? Nay, further, have you never endeavored to recall the time, place, and circumstances of your former intercourse, and failing in this attempt, have almost believed that your spirits must have held converse with each other in some state of being anterior to the present, and that you are only now occupied in a reminiscence of the past?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, that is precisely the feeling which I experienced when I first saw that extraordinary man." 
"Extraordinary, did you say?" 
"Yes." 
"You have known him for some time, then?" 
"Scarcely longer than eight or ten days." 
"And do you call a man your friend whom you have only known for eight or ten days? Ah, Maximilian, I had hoped you set a higher value on the title of friend." 
"Your logic is most powerful, Valentine, but say what you will, I can never renounce the sentiment which has instinctively taken possession of my mind. I feel as if it were ordained that this man should be associated with all the good which the future may have in store for me, and sometimes it really seems as if his eye was able to see what was to come, and his hand endowed with the power of directing events according to his own will." 
"He must be a prophet, then," said Valentine, smiling. 
"Indeed," said Maximilian, "I have often been almost tempted to attribute to him the gift of prophecy; at all events, he has a wonderful power of foretelling any future good." 
"Ah," said Valentine in a mournful tone, "do let me see this man, Maximilian; he may tell me whether I shall ever be loved sufficiently to make amends for all I have suffered." 
"My poor girl, you know him already." 
"I know him?" 
"Yes; it was he who saved the life of your step-mother and her son." 
"The Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"The same." 
"Ah," cried Valentine, "he is too much the friend of Madame de Villefort ever to be mine." 
"The friend of Madame de Villefort! It cannot be; surely, Valentine, you are mistaken?" 
"No, indeed, I am not; for I assure you, his power over our household is almost unlimited. Courted by my step-mother, who regards him as the epitome of human wisdom; admired by my father, who says he has never before heard such sublime ideas so eloquently expressed; idolized by Edward, who, notwithstanding his fear of the count's large black eyes, runs to meet him the moment he arrives, and opens his hand, in which he is sure to find some delightful present,--M. de Monte Cristo appears to exert a mysterious and almost uncontrollable influence over all the members of our family." 
"If such be the case, my dear Valentine, you must yourself have felt, or at all events will soon feel, the effects of his presence. He meets Albert de Morcerf in Italy--it is to rescue him from the hands of the banditti; he introduces himself to Madame Danglars--it is that he may give her a royal present; your step-mother and her son pass before his door--it is that his Nubian may save them from destruction. This man evidently possesses the power of influencing events, both as regards men and things. I never saw more simple tastes united to greater magnificence. His smile is so sweet when he addresses me, that I forget it ever can be bitter to others. Ah, Valentine, tell me, if he ever looked on you with one of those sweet smiles? if so, depend on it, you will be happy." 
"Me?" said the young girl, "he never even glances at me; on the contrary, if I accidentally cross his path, he appears rather to avoid me. Ah, he is not generous, neither does he possess that supernatural penetration which you attribute to him, for if he did, he would have perceived that I was unhappy; and if he had been generous, seeing me sad and solitary, he would have used his influence to my advantage, and since, as you say, he resembles the sun, he would have warmed my heart with one of his life-giving rays. You say he loves you, Maximilian; how do you know that he does? All would pay deference to an officer like you, with a fierce mustache and a long sabre, but they think they may crush a poor weeping girl with impunity." 
"Ah, Valentine, I assure you you are mistaken." 
"If it were otherwise--if he treated me diplomatically--that is to say, like a man who wishes, by some means or other, to obtain a footing in the house, so that he may ultimately gain the power of dictating to its occupants--he would, if it had been but once, have honored me with the smile which you extol so loudly; but no, he saw that I was unhappy, he understood that I could be of no use to him, and therefore paid no attention to me whatever. Who knows but that, in order to please Madame de Villefort and my father, he may not persecute me by every means in his power? It is not just that he should despise me so, without any reason. Ah, forgive me," said Valentine, perceiving the effect which her words were producing on Maximilian: "I have done wrong, for I have given utterance to thoughts concerning that man which I did not even know existed in my heart. I do not deny the influence of which you speak, or that I have not myself experienced it, but with me it has been productive of evil rather than good." 
"Well, Valentine," said Morrel with a sigh, "we will not discuss the matter further. I will not make a confidant of him." 
"Alas," said Valentine, "I see that I have given you pain. I can only say how sincerely I ask pardon for having griefed you. But, indeed, I am not prejudiced beyond the power of conviction. Tell me what this Count of Monte Cristo has done for you." 
"I own that your question embarrasses me, Valentine, for I cannot say that the count has rendered me any ostensible service. Still, as I have already told you I have an instinctive affection for him, the source of which I cannot explain to you. Has the sun done anything for me? No; he warms me with his rays, and it is by his light that I see you--nothing more. Has such and such a perfume done anything for me? No; its odor charms one of my senses--that is all I can say when I am asked why I praise it. My friendship for him is as strange and unaccountable as his for me. A secret voice seems to whisper to me that there must be something more than chance in this unexpected reciprocity of friendship. In his most simple actions, as well as in his most secret thoughts, I find a relation to my own. You will perhaps smile at me when I tell you that, ever since I have known this man, I have involuntarily entertained the idea that all the good fortune which his befallen me originated from him. However, I have managed to live thirty years without this protection, you will say; but I will endeavor a little to illustrate my meaning. He invited me to dine with him on Saturday, which was a very natural thing for him to do. Well, what have I learned since? That your mother and M. de Villefort are both coming to this dinner. I shall meet them there, and who knows what future advantages may result from the interview? This may appear to you to be no unusual combination of circumstances; nevertheless, I perceive some hidden plot in the arrangement--something, in fact, more than is apparent on a casual view of the subject. I believe that this singular man, who appears to fathom the motives of every one, has purposely arranged for me to meet M. and Madame de Villefort, and sometimes, I confess, I have gone so far as to try to read in his eyes whether he was in possession of the secret of our love." 
"My good friend," said Valentine, "I should take you for a visionary, and should tremble for your reason, if I were always to hear you talk in a strain similar to this. Is it possible that you can see anything more than the merest chance in this meeting? Pray reflect a little. My father, who never goes out, has several times been on the point of refusing this invitation; Madame de Villefort, on the contrary, is burning with the desire of seeing this extraordinary nabob in his own house, therefore, she has with great difficulty prevailed on my father to accompany her. No, no; it is as I have said, Maximilian,--there is no one in the world of whom I can ask help but yourself and my grandfather, who is little better than a corpse." 
"I see that you are right, logically speaking," said Maximilian; "but the gentle voice which usually has such power over me fails to convince me to-day." 
"I feel the same as regards yourself." said Valentine; "and I own that, if you have no stronger proof to give me"-- 
"I have another," replied Maximilian; "but I fear you will deem it even more absurd than the first." 
"So much the worse," said Valentine, smiling. 
"It is, nevertheless, conclusive to my mind. My ten years of service have also confirmed my ideas on the subject of sudden inspirations, for I have several times owed my life to a mysterious impulse which directed me to move at once either to the right or to the left, in order to escape the ball which killed the comrade fighting by my side, while it left me unharmed." 
"Dear Maximilian, why not attribute your escape to my constant prayers for your safety? When you are away, I no longer pray for myself, but for you." 
"Yes, since you have known me," said Morrel, smiling; "but that cannot apply to the time previous to our acquaintance, Valentine." 
"You are very provoking, and will not give me credit for anything; but let me hear this second proof, which you yourself own to be absurd." 
"Well, look through this opening, and you will see the beautiful new horse which I rode here." 
"Ah, what a beautiful creature!" cried Valentine; "why did you not bring him close to the gate, so that I could talk to him and pat him?" 
"He is, as you see, a very valuable animal," said Maximilian. "You know that my means are limited, and that I am what would be designated a man of moderate pretensions. Well, I went to a horse dealer's, where I saw this magnificent horse, which I have named Medeah. I asked the price; they told me it was 4,500 francs. I was, therefore, obliged to give it up, as you may imagine, but I own I went away with rather a heavy heart, for the horse had looked at me affectionately, had rubbed his head against me and, when I mounted him, had pranced in the most delightful way imaginable, so that I was altogether fascinated with him. The same evening some friends of mine visited me,--M. de Chateau-Renaud, M. Debray, and five or six other choice spirits, whom you do not know, even by name. They proposed a game of bouillotte. I never play, for I am not rich enough to afford to lose, or sufficiently poor to desire to gain. But I was at my own house, you understand, so there was nothing to be done but to send for the cards, which I did. 
"Just as they were sitting down to table, M. de Monte Cristo arrived. He took his seat amongst them; they played, and I won. I am almost ashamed to say that my gains amounted to 5,000 francs. We separated at midnight. I could not defer my pleasure, so I took a cabriolet and drove to the horse dealer's. Feverish and excited, I rang at the door. The person who opened it must have taken me for a madman, for I rushed at once to the stable. Medeah was standing at the rack, eating his hay. I immediately put on the saddle and bridle, to which operation he lent himself with the best grace possible; then, putting the 4,500 francs into the hands of the astonished dealer, I proceeded to fulfil my intention of passing the night in riding in the Champs Elysées. As I rode by the count's house I perceived a light in one of the windows, and fancied I saw the shadow of his figure moving behind the curtain. Now, Valentine, I firmly believe that he knew of my wish to possess this horse, and that he lost expressly to give me the means of procuring him." 
"My dear Maximilian, you are really too fanciful; you will not love even me long. A man who accustoms himself to live in such a world of poetry and imagination must find far too little excitement in a common, every-day sort of attachment such as ours. But they are calling me. Do you hear?" 
"Ah, Valentine," said Maximilian, "give me but one finger through this opening in the grating, one finger, the littlest finger of all, that I may have the happiness of kissing it." 
"Maximilian, we said we would be to each other as two voices, two shadows." 
"As you will, Valentine." 
"Shall you be happy if I do what you wish?" "Oh, yes!" Valentine mounted on a bench, and passed not only her finger but her whole hand through the opening. Maximilian uttered a cry of delight, and, springing forwards, seized the hand extended towards him, and imprinted on it a fervent and impassioned kiss. The little hand was then immediately withdrawn, and the young man saw Valentine hurrying towards the house, as though she were almost terrified at her own sensations.  
现在请本书的读者务必允许我们再把你引领到维尔福先生屋后的那块儿园地上。在那扇半隐在大栗树后面的门外，我们将可以见到几位我们相识的人物。这次是马西米兰先到。他耐心地在等候一个人影从树丛里出来，焦急地等着石子路上发出轻巧的脚步声，那盼望已久的声音终于听到了，他本来只等一个人，但他却觉察到有两个人在向他走过来。瓦朗蒂娜的迟到得怪腾格拉尔夫人和欧热妮的拜访，她们的拜访超出了她所预想的时间。于是，为了表示不失信于马西米兰，她向腾格拉尔小姐建议，邀她到花园里去散一次步，以此表明她的迟来虽然肯定要令他感到烦恼，但却并不是她自己过错。 
那位青年以爱情的直觉，立刻明白了她这种无可奈何的境况，心里很感安慰。而且，虽然她避免来到晤谈的范围以内，瓦朗蒂娜却做得很巧妙，可以使马西米兰看到她走来走去；而每一次走过的时候，她总要设法趁她同伴不注意向青年投来一个情意绵绵的眼光，象是在说：“耐心一点！你看出这不是我的错。”马西米兰很善于忍耐，于是就在心里比较着这两位姑娘来消磨时间——一个肤色白晰，有一对水汪汪温柔的眼睛，温雅地微微弯着身体，象一棵垂着的杨柳；另外一个肤色略黑，富有一种严峻傲慢的表情，身子挺直，象一棵白杨树。不消说，在青年的眼里，瓦朗蒂娜当然不会相形见绌。约莫半小时以后，小姐们回去了，马西米兰知道腾格拉尔小姐的访问终于已告一段落。不到几分钟，瓦朗蒂娜一个人又走进花园里来。因为怕别人注意到她回来，她走得很慢，并不立刻直接走近门边，而是先在一张凳子上坐下来，小心地向四周看了看，确定没有人在监视她后，立刻起身，急忙忙地向门口走来。 
“晚上好，瓦朗蒂娜。”一个声音说。 
“晚上好，马西米兰。我让你等了一些时间，但你已经看出我迟到的原因了。” 
“是的，我认得腾格拉尔小姐。但我不知道你和她这么密切。” 
“谁跟你说我们很密切，马西米兰？” 
“没有谁告诉我，看起来你们好象是这样。从你们边走边谈的那种样子上看来，别人家以为你们是两个在那儿互诉秘密的女学生呢。” 
“我们刚才谈了一番心事，”瓦朗蒂娜答道。“她对我说她不愿意和马尔塞夫先生结婚，而我也向她承认：我一想到要嫁给伊皮奈先生，就感到那么的痛苦。” 
“可爱的瓦朗蒂娜！” 
“这可以向你表明为什么你能看到我和欧热妮之间有那种坦率的态度，这是因为在谈到我不爱的那个人的时候，我想到了我所爱的那个人。” 
  
  
“啊，你是多么尽善尽美呀，瓦朗蒂娜！你有一种决不等同于腾格拉尔小姐的气质！就是那种无法言说的娇柔。而这种娇柔对于一个女人，正好象香气对于花和美味对于果子一样，美并不是我们对于花和果所要求的唯一的东西。” 
“这是你心里的爱让你对一切产生这种看法。” 
“不，瓦朗蒂娜，我向你保证。你们在花园里散步的时候，我把你们两个人都观察了一番，凭良心说，虽然我丝毫不想故意贬低腾格拉尔小姐的美，但我没法理解有什么男子能真的爱她。” 
“那是因为，正如你所说的，马西米兰，我在那儿的缘故。因为有我在旁边，你就不公平啦。” 
“不，但告诉我——这纯粹是一个因为我好奇的问题，因为在我脑子里出现了一些和腾格拉尔小姐有关的念头，所以才问的——” 
“噢，一定是些非常不公平的念头，我用不着问就知道了。在你们批评我们这些可怜女子的时候，我们不用想得到宽容。” 
“至少你不能否认，你们自己互相批评的时候，也是非常苛刻的。” 
“如果我们苛刻，那是因为我们一般总是在激动的情绪之下进行批评的。不过说说你的问题吧。” 
“腾格拉尔小姐这次反对和马尔塞夫先生结婚，是不是因为另有所爱的缘故？” 
“我已经跟你说，我和欧热妮算不上十分亲密。” 
“是的，但小姐们用不着十分亲密就可以互诉心事。还是承认吧，你的确向她问过这个问题吧。啊，你在那儿笑啦。” 
“大概你已经知道那一段谈话了吧，我们和你就隔了这一道木板，它可保不住什么秘密。” 
“嘿，她怎么说？” 
“她对我说她谁都不管，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“她一想到结婚就讨厌。她宁可永远过一种无拘无束的独立生活。她几乎还希望她父亲破产，那样她也许可以象她的朋友罗茜·亚密莱小姐那样当上一名艺术家。” 
“啊，你看——” 
“嗯，你想到了什么念头？”瓦朗蒂娜问。 
“没有什么。”马西米兰微笑着回答。 
“那么你为什么要笑呢？” 
“咦，你自己把眼睛盯着我的呀。” 
“你要我走吗？” 
“啊，不，不！我们谈谈你吧。” 
“对了，我们在一起的时间最多还剩下十分钟了。” 
“天哪！”马西米兰大失所望地说，瓦朗蒂娜用一种忧郁的口吻说，“我对你不过是一个可怜的朋友。可怜的马西米兰，你本来命中注定是该享福的，但你过的都是一种什么样的生活呵！我常常责备我自己，我向你保证。” 
“哦，那有什么关系，瓦朗蒂娜？只要我自己愿意不就得啦。我甚至都想：虽然这种长期没结果的情形很叫我痛苦，但只要和你相处上五分钟，或者从你的嘴里听上两句话，我就感到心满意足。而且我也深信：上帝既然造了两颗象我们这样和谐的心，几乎还奇迹般的把这两颗心联在一起，它不会最后又把我们分开的。” 
“这几句话说得真好，我谢谢你。我们两个人都心怀希望吧，马西米兰，这可以让我快乐一点。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，你这样匆匆地要离开我，到底还有什么事？” 
“我不知道。维尔福夫人派人来请我去，说她要跟我谈谈，而且这次谈话关系到我的一部分财产。叫他们把我的财产拿去吧，我已经太富有啦，也许他们拿走以后，我就可以平平静静地过日子了。如果我穷了，你还是会这样爱我吧，是不是，马西米兰？” 
“噢，我会永远爱你。只要我的瓦朗蒂娜在我的身边，而且我能确实感到没有什么人可以再把她从我手里夺走，贫富对我又有什么要紧的呢？但你不担心这次谈话大概会和你的婚事有关吗？” 
“我不这样想。” 
“现在，听我说，瓦朗蒂娜，什么都不必怕，因为只要我活着，除你之外，我决不会再爱别的人。” 
“你说这句话是想让我觉着踏实吗，马西米兰？” 
“原谅我，你说得对——我真笨。哦，我是想告诉你，那天我遇到了马尔塞夫先生。” 
“嗯？” 
“你知道，弗兰兹先生是他的朋友。” 
“那又怎么样？” 
“马尔塞夫先生接到弗兰兹的一封信，说他很快就要回来了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜的脸变得煞白，她倚到门上防止跌倒。“这能是真的吗？维尔福夫人是为这件事来叫我的吗？不，这种消息好象不会要她来通知我。” 
“为什么不会？” 
“因为——我也不知道为什么——但看来维尔福夫人暗地里反对这件婚事，虽然她并没有公开表示反对。” 
“是吗？那么我觉得我简直该崇拜维尔福夫人的了。” 
“别这样忙着去崇拜她。”瓦朗蒂娜面带忧郁的微笑着说。 
“如果她反对你嫁给伊皮奈先生，她多半是愿意另提别的亲事呀。” 
“不要那么想，马西米兰。维尔福夫人并不是挑剔男方，她压根儿反对结婚。” 
“反对结婚！如果她那么讨厌结婚，她自己为什么要结婚呢？” 
“你没有理解我的意思，马西米兰。大约在一年以前，我谈起过要到修道院去，维尔福夫人虽然说了很多她认为出于责任非说不可的话，但暗底里却赞成那个建议。我的父亲在她的怂恿之下也同意了，只是为了我那位可怜的祖父，我才最后放弃了那个计划，你绝对想象不到当那位老人家望着我的时候，他的眼睛里流露出怎样的一种表情——他在这个世界上只爱我一个人，而我也敢说只有我一个人爱他。当他听说我的决定的时候，我永远忘不了他那种责备的眼光，和两行珠子般流到他那僵硬的脸颊上的无比绝望的泪水。啊，马西米兰，我当时多么懊悔不该产生那种想法，所以我跪到他的脚下，喊道：‘原谅我，请原谅我，我亲爱的爷爷，不论他们怎样对待我，我永远不离开您了。’我说完以后，他感激地抬起头，可没有说一句话。啊，马西米兰，我大概还得受许多罪，但我觉得我祖父当时的目光已够弥补一切遗憾了。” 
“可爱的瓦朗蒂娜，你是个天使。我真的不知道象我这么一个在沙漠里东征西剿，以砍杀阿拉伯人为业的人——除非上帝真的认为他们是该死的异教徒——我不知道我有什么值得得到上帝优待的地方，他把你托付给我。但告诉我，你不结婚对维尔福夫人能有什么好处呢？” 
“我不是告诉过你我很有钱，太有钱了吗，马西米兰？我从我的母亲身上可以继承到五万里弗左右的收入。我的外祖父和外祖母，就是圣·梅朗侯爵夫妇，也可以给我同样大数目的钱，而诺瓦蒂埃先生很明显也想立我做他的继承人。我的弟弟爱德华，他的母亲没有什么东西可以遗赠给他，所以和我一比，他就困难多了。嗯，维尔福夫人疼爱那个孩子象一块心头肉，如果我做了修女，我的全部财产就归到父亲所有了——他可以继承侯爵夫妇和我的财产——再经他转给他儿子。” 
“啊！真不可思议，一个这样年轻美丽的女人竟会这样贪心。” 
“她倒也不是为了她自己，而是为了她的儿子。你认为那是一种罪恶，但从母爱用度看，这还是一种美德呢。” 
“可你不能妥协一下，分一部分你的财产给她的儿子吗？” 
“我怎么能提出这样的一项建议呢，特别是对一个总自认为对金钱毫无兴趣的女人？” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，我从来把我们的爱当作一个神圣的东西。所以我拿恭敬的幕布把它包裹起来，藏在我灵魂的最深处，没有哪一个人知道它的存在，甚至我的妹妹也不知道。瓦朗蒂娜，你准不准许我向一个朋友透露我对你的爱，跟他结一个莫逆之交？” 
瓦朗蒂娜吃了一惊。“一个朋友，马西米兰，这个朋友是谁？我有点担心。” 
“听我说，瓦朗蒂娜。你有没有在那个人身上感受到过一种强烈的同情心？虽然只是第一次见到他，你却感觉好象已经和他相识已久。你会在心里不断地问到底以前是在什么时候和什么地方跟他结识的，而虽然再也想不起那时间和地点，但你却依然相信以前肯定有过这么一次经历，而这种同情心只不过是一种旧事重现心头而已？” 
“是这样。” 
“嗯，当我第一次看到那个怪人的时候，我心里的感觉正是那样。” 
“怪人，你说？” 
“是的。” 
“那么，你认识他挺长时间了吗？” 
“不过有八九天吧。” 
“你难道竟把一个才认识了八九天的人当作你的朋友吗？啊，马西米兰，我希望你不是把朋友这个称号的价值定得再高一点吧。” 
“从逻辑上说你是对的，瓦朗蒂娜。但不论你说什么，我绝不能拒绝这种本能而来的情感。我相信我未来的一切幸福一定和这个人有联系——有时候，他那一对洞察一切的眼睛似乎已预见到了一切，而他那双有力的手好象在驱动所有一切的实现。” 
“那么他肯定是一位预言家了。”瓦朗蒂娜微笑着说。 
“一点不错！”马西米兰说，“我常常不由自主相信他有预言本领——特别是预言好消息。” 
“啊！”瓦朗蒂娜带着一种忧伤的口气说，“让我见见这个人好吗，马西米兰，他大概可以告诉我到底能不能获得我所需要的爱，来补偿我经受的那么多痛苦。” 
“我可怜的姑娘！你已经认识他啦。” 
“我认识他？” 
“是的，救你的后母和她儿子的性命的就是他。” 
“基督山伯爵？” 
“正是他。” 
“啊！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，“他是维尔福夫人的好朋友，绝不可能再做我的朋友了。” 
“维尔福夫人的朋友！绝不可能，我想你一定弄错了。” 
“不，我一点儿没有弄错，因为我可以向你保证，他干预我们家务的威力简直大得无边。我的后母谄媚他，把他看成一部集人类所有智慧于一身的百科全书。我的父亲敬佩他，说他以前从没听见有人以这样雄辩的论调表达过如此崇高的人生观。爱德华崇拜他，他虽然怕伯爵那一对乌溜溜的大眼睛，但只要伯爵一到，他就会跑上去迎接他，扳开他的手，在那两只手里，他肯定能找到一件好玩的礼物——基督山先生对我们家里的每一个人好象都有一种神秘的、几乎不可抗拒的控制力。” 
“如果真是如此，我亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，那么你一定也已感觉到了或者用不多久就会感觉到他的出现的好处。他在意大利遇到阿尔贝·马尔塞夫，他把他从强盗那里解救了出来。他去见腾格拉尔夫人，送了她一件高贵的礼物。你的后母和她的儿子经过他的门前，他的黑奴救了他们的性命。这个人显然拥有控制力。我从来没见过其他人能象他这样把朴实和华丽调和得这样和谐。他的笑是如此甜蜜，在他向我微笑的时候，我想象不出他的笑对其他人是苦涩的。啊，瓦朗蒂娜，告诉我，他有没有那么对你笑过？如果有的话，放心吧，你就要快乐了。” 
“我！”青年女郎说，“他连瞟都不瞟我一眼呢，正相反，如果我偶而碰见他，他好象倒要故意避开我。啊，他并不宽宏大量，他也没有你所说的那种非凡的智慧——因为，如果他有的话，他就会看出我的不幸。如果他真宽宏大量的话，看到我这么忧闷和孤独，他就会使用他的力量来帮助我幸福。再者，如果象你所说的，他象太阳一样，他就会拿一缕赋予生命的光芒来温暖我的心。你说他爱你，马西米兰，你怎么了解他的动机？人们对象你这么一位挂着一把长长的指挥刀、蓄着一脸威猛小胡子的军官总是很尊敬的，但认为欺负我这样一个只会哭泣可怜的姑娘是没什么了不起的。” 
“啊，瓦朗蒂娜，我肯定你弄错了。” 
“如果不如此的话，如果他对我使用外交手腕——就是说，如果他是那种为了最终可以获得支配权力而先是用各种手段来取得全家每一个成员的外交家的话——他就会，哪怕一次也好，赐给我那种你绝口称颂的微笑。可是不，他看出我很不快乐，他知道我对他毫无用处，所以他一点都不注意我。谁知道呢？也许为了要讨好维尔福夫人和我的父亲，他都可以尽可能地迫害我。他不应该这样不把我放到眼里，这是不公平的，毫无理由的。啊，原谅我，”瓦朗蒂娜说，她注意到了她的话在马西米兰心里产生的影响，“我不好，我的心里根本就没有那个人的一点儿痕迹，信口批评了他一通。我不否认他有你所说的那种力量，也不否认我也感到过那种力量的存在，但从我这方面说，与其说那种力量能带来什么好处，还不如说它能带来祸害更确切些。” 
“好了，瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔叹了一口气说，“我们不再讨论这件事情了吧。我什么都不跟他说就是了。” 
“唉！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我知道我让你很痛苦。噢，我希望有一天能握着你的手请你原谅。但我的确对他抱着并不是毫无根据的偏见。告诉我，这位基督山伯爵给了你什么好处？” 
“我得说你这个问题很叫我为难，瓦朗蒂娜，因为我说不出伯爵给我过什么明显的好处。可是，就象我已经跟你说过的，我对他有一种油然生发的爱，这种爱的来源我没法向你解释。太阳给了我什么好处没有？没有，它用它的光芒温暖了我，因为有了它的光芒，我可以看见你，如此而已。再譬如，某种花的香味给我什么好处了没有？没有，它的香味令我的嗅觉感到很舒适——如果有人问我为什么要赞美它，我只能如此的说。我对他的友情跟他对我的一样不可思议，一样说不出一个所以然来。一个隐约的声音好象在向对我耳语，说这一次突然的邂逅一定不是偶然的。在他最简单的举止上和他最深层的思想里，我发觉都和我有什么关系，你也许要取笑我，但我告诉你，自从我认识了这个人以来，我就有了一个荒唐的念头，觉着我所遇到过的一切好运都是由他创造出来的。你会说，没有这种佑护我也活过了三十年了，是不是？没有关系——但等一等，且让我举一个例子。他请我星期六到他那儿去吃饭，在他，这不过是一件极其自然的事情。好，后来我又听到了什么消息？这次请客，你的母亲和维尔福先生都要来。我将在那儿见到他们。谁知道这样的会见以后会带来怎样的好处呢？这种事情表面上看最简单不过，但我却从中看出一些惊人的意义，从中得到了一种奇怪的信心。我对我自己说，这位奇人表面上好象是为了大家，而实际上是有意为我做的安排，让我有机会会一会维尔福先生夫妇的。我也承认，有时候我都想从他的眼睛里去探究他到底是否已经猜透了我们的秘密恋爱。” 
“我的好朋友，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“要是我老是听你这样没头没脑的说话，我真的要为你的理性担心，把你看做一个幻想家了。这一次会面，除了纯粹巧合以外，你真不能看出什么别的意义来吗？请稍微想一想。我的父亲从来不出门，他几次都想谢绝这个邀请。维尔福夫人却正相反，她特别想去看看这位奇怪富翁家里的情形，费了老大的劲儿才说服我的父亲陪她一起去。不，不！我前面说的话并没有错，马西米兰，除了你和我那个略强于僵尸一点的祖父以外，我在这个世界上再没有人可求助了。” 
“从逻辑上讲，我知道你是对的，”马西米兰说，“你那甜蜜的话音平常对我是那么有魅力，但今天却没有说服我。” 
“可你的话也没有说服我，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我必须说，如果你不能给我更有说服力的证据——” 
“我还有一个证据，”玛西米兰迟迟疑疑地说，“但是——的确，瓦朗蒂娜，我自己也不得不承认它比第一个理由更要荒唐。” 
“那就糟了。”瓦朗蒂娜微笑着说。 
“我对于这件事还没有断定。十年的军旅生活教给我相信，有时我的想法要靠突如其来的灵感所决定，因为那种神秘的冲动好几次救了我的命，它使我往右或往左躲开，那致命的枪弹因而就从我的身边擦身而过。” 
“亲爱的马西米兰，你为什么不把你的死里逃生归功于我的祈祷呢？当你不在的时候，我就不再为我自己祈祷了，只是一个劲儿地为你祷求平安。” 
“是的，自从你认识了我以后确实如此，”莫雷尔微笑着说，“但那可不能适用于我们还没认识的时候呀，瓦朗蒂娜。” 
“你这个人真叫人恼火，一点都不肯相信我的话，不过我还是听听你自己都认为是荒唐的第二个证据吧。” 
“嗯，从这个缺口往那边看，你可以看到那匹我骑到这儿来的那匹新买的骏马。” 
“啊，这匹马真健壮呵！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，“你干吗不把它牵到门边来呢！我可以和它说说话，它会明白我的。” 
“你看，它是一匹非常名贵的牲口，”马西米兰说。“嗯，你知道我的手头并不宽裕，而且素有‘理智人’之称。我到一个马贩子那儿去，看到了这匹漂亮的马。我给它起好名子叫米狄亚。我问要什么价钱，他们说要四千五百法郎。所以我就只好打肖这个心思了，这你可以想象得到。但我得说我走开的时候心里很沉重，因为那匹马十分友好地望着我，用它的头在我的身上摩来蹭去，而且当我骑在它身上的时候，它又用最讨好的姿态一个接一个地腾跃。当天晚上，几个朋友来看我——夏多·勒诺先生、德布雷先生，还有五六个你连名字都没听说过的绅士。他们提议打牌。我是从来不玩牌的，因为我既没有多少钱可输，也穷不到想去赢别人的钱来花。但他们是在我的家里，你知道，所以总好叫人去拿牌一点儿办法都没有，就在他们在桌子旁边坐下来的时候，基督山先生到了。他也在他们中间坐了一个位子，大家于是玩起来，结果我赢了。说来真有点不好意思，我竟然赢了五千法郎。到午夜我们才分手。我捺住心头的喜悦，就跳上一辆轻便马车，快马加鞭，驶到马贩子那儿。我兴奋地一个劲拉门铃。来开门的那个人一定以为我是个疯子，因为我不由分说冲到马厩里。米狄亚正站在马槽前吃草，我马上把鞍子和辔勒套上去，而它也极其温顺地由我摆布，于是把四千五百法郎放到那莫名其妙的马贩子手里，我就驰向香榭丽舍大道，要在那儿跑一夜马，以了却我的心愿。当我骑马走过伯爵门前的时候，我看到有一个窗口里还透着灯光，而且我好象看到了他的影子在窗帘后面闪动。哦，瓦朗蒂娜，我一点不含糊地相信他知道我想得到这匹马，他故意输钱给我好让我去买它的。” 
“我亲爱的马西米兰，你真的太喜欢幻想了，你不会爱我很长久的。一个生活在这种诗情画意和幻想世界中的男子，对于我们这种平淡无奇的往来一定觉得刺激太少了。他们在叫我啦。你听到没有？” 
“啊，瓦朗蒂娜！’马西米兰说，“从这个栅栏口伸只手指给我，让我亲一亲。” 
“马西米兰，我们说好的，我们只应该把我们自己看作是两个声音，两个影子。” 
“随你便吧，瓦朗蒂娜。” 
“如果我让你如愿以偿，你高兴吗？” 
“噢，当然喽！” 
瓦朗蒂娜走到门沿上，不但把她的一个手指，而且把她的整只手都从缺口伸过去，马西米兰发出一声惊喜的叫声，跳将上去，抓住那只手，在那只手上做了一个狂热深长的吻。那只小手于是立刻缩了回去，这位年轻人看到瓦朗蒂娜急急地向屋里跑去，好象她都要被她自己的情感冲动吓坏了似的。 
Chapter 58 M. Noirtier de Villefort
 WE WILL now relate what was passing in the house of the king's attorney after the departure of Madame Danglars and her daughter, and during the time of the conversation between Maximilian and Valentine, which we have just detailed. M. de Villefort entered his father's room, followed by Madame de Villefort. Both of the visitors, after saluting the old man and speaking to Barrois, a faithful servant, who had been twenty-five years in his service, took their places on either side of the paralytic. 
M. Noirtier was sitting in an arm-chair, which moved upon casters, in which he was wheeled into the room in the morning, and in the same way drawn out again at night. He was placed before a large glass, which reflected the whole apartment, and so, without any attempt to move, which would have been impossible, he could see all who entered the room and everything which was going on around him. M. Noirtier, although almost as immovable as a corpse, looked at the newcomers with a quick and intelligent expression, perceiving at once, by their ceremonious courtesy, that they were come on business of an unexpected and official character. Sight and hearing were the only senses remaining, and they, like two solitary sparks, remained to animate the miserable body which seemed fit for nothing but the grave; it was only, however, by means of one of these senses that he could reveal the thoughts and feelings that still occupied his mind, and the look by which he gave expression to his inner life was like the distant gleam of a candle which a traveller sees by night across some desert place, and knows that a living being dwells beyond the silence and obscurity. Noirtier's hair was long and white, and flowed over his shoulders; while in his eyes, shaded by thick black lashes, was concentrated, as it often happens with an organ which is used to the exclusion of the others, all the activity, address, force, and intelligence which were formerly diffused over his whole body; and so although the movement of the arm, the sound of the voice, and the agility of the body, were wanting, the speaking eye sufficed for all. He commanded with it; it was the medium through which his thanks were conveyed. In short, his whole appearance produced on the mind the impression of a corpse with living eyes, and nothing could be more startling than to observe the expression of anger or joy suddenly lighting up these organs, while the rest of the rigid and marble-like features were utterly deprived of the power of participation. Three persons only could understand this language of the poor paralytic; these were Villefort, Valentine, and the old servant of whom we have already spoken. But as Villefort saw his father but seldom, and then only when absolutely obliged, and as he never took any pains to please or gratify him when he was there, all the old man's happiness was centred in his granddaughter. Valentine, by means of her love, her patience, and her devotion, had learned to read in Noirtier's look all the varied feelings which were passing in his mind. To this dumb language, which was so unintelligible to others, she answered by throwing her whole soul into the expression of her countenance, and in this manner were the conversations sustained between the blooming girl and the helpless invalid, whose body could scarcely be called a living one, but who, nevertheless, possessed a fund of knowledge and penetration, united with a will as powerful as ever although clogged by a body rendered utterly incapable of obeying its impulses. Valentine had solved the problem, and was able easily to understand his thoughts, and to convey her own in return, and, through her untiring and devoted assiduity, it was seldom that, in the ordinary transactions of every-day life, she failed to anticipate the wishes of the living, thinking mind, or the wants of the almost inanimate body. As to the servant, he had, as we have said, been with his master for five and twenty years, therefore he knew all his habits, and it was seldom that Noirtier found it necessary to ask for anything, so prompt was he in administering to all the necessities of the invalid. Villefort did not need the help of either Valentine or the domestic in order to carry on with his father the strange conversation which he was about to begin. As we have said, he perfectly understood the old man's vocabulary, and if he did not use it more often, it was only indifference and ennui which prevented him from so doing. He therefore allowed Valentine to go into the garden, sent away Barrois, and after having seated himself at his father's right hand, while Madame de Villefort placed herself on the left, he addressed him thus:-- 
"I trust you will not be displeased, sir, that Valentine has not come with us, or that I dismissed Barrois, for our conference will be one which could not with propriety be carried on in the presence of either. Madame de Villefort and I have a communication to make to you." 
Noirtier's face remained perfectly passive during this long preamble, while, on the contrary, Villefort's eye was endeavoring to penetrate into the inmost recesses of the old man's heart. 
"This communication," continued the procureur, in that cold and decisive tone which seemed at once to preclude all discussion, "will, we are sure, meet with your approbation." The eye of the invalid still retained that vacancy of expression which prevented his son from obtaining any knowledge of the feelings which were passing in his mind; he listened, nothing more. "Sir," resumed Villefort, "we are thinking of marrying Valentine." Had the old man's face been moulded in wax it could not have shown less emotion at this news than was now to be traced there. "The marriage will take place in less than three months," said Villefort. Noirtier's eye still retained its inanimate expression. 
Madame de Villefort now took her part in the conversation and added,--"We thought this news would possess an interest for you, sir, who have always entertained a great affection for Valentine; it therefore only now remains for us to tell you the name of the young man for whom she is destined. It is one of the most desirable connections which could possibly be formed; he possesses fortune, a high rank in society, and every personal qualification likely to render Valentine supremely happy,--his name, moreover, cannot be wholly unknown to you. It is M. Franz de Quesnel, Baron d'Epinay." 
While his wife was speaking, Villefort had narrowly watched the old man's countenance. When Madame de Villefort pronounced the name of Franz, the pupil of M. Noirtier's eye began to dilate, and his eyelids trembled with the same movement that may be perceived on the lips of an individual about to speak, and he darted a lightning glance at Madame de Villefort and his son. The procureur, who knew the political hatred which had formerly existed between M. Noirtier and the elder d'Epinay, well understood the agitation and anger which the announcement had produced; but, feigning not to perceive either, he immediately resumed the narrative begun by his wife. "Sir," said he, "you are aware that Valentine is about to enter her nineteenth year, which renders it important that she should lose no time in forming a suitable alliance. Nevertheless, you have not been forgotten in our plans, and we have fully ascertained beforehand that Valentine's future husband will consent, not to live in this house, for that might not be pleasant for the young people, but that you should live with them; so that you and Valentine, who are so attached to each other, would not be separated, and you would be able to pursue exactly the same course of life which you have hitherto done, and thus, instead of losing, you will be a gainer by the change, as it will secure to you two children instead of one, to watch over and comfort you." 
Noirtier's look was furious; it was very evident that something desperate was passing in the old man's mind, for a cry of anger and grief rose in his throat, and not being able to find vent in utterance, appeared almost to choke him, for his face and lips turned quite purple with the struggle. Villefort quietly opened a window, saying, "It is very warm, and the heat affects M. Noirtier." He then returned to his place, but did not sit down. "This marriage," added Madame de Villefort, "is quite agreeable to the wishes of M. d'Epinay and his family; besides, he had no relations nearer than an uncle and aunt, his mother having died at his birth, and his father having been assassinated in 1815, that is to say, when he was but two years old; it naturally followed that the child was permitted to choose his own pursuits, and he has, therefore, seldom acknowledged any other authority but that of his own will." 
"That assassination was a mysterious affair," said Villefort, "and the perpetrators have hitherto escaped detection, although suspicion has fallen on the head of more than one person." Noirtier made such an effort that his lips expanded into a smile. 
"Now," continued Villefort, "those to whom the guilt really belongs, by whom the crime was committed, on whose heads the justice of man may probably descend here, and the certain judgment of God hereafter, would rejoice in the opportunity thus afforded of bestowing such a peace-offering as Valentine on the son of him whose life they so ruthlessly destroyed." Noirtier had succeeded in mastering his emotion more than could have been deemed possible with such an enfeebled and shattered frame. "Yes, I understand," was the reply contained in his look; and this look expressed a feeling of strong indignation, mixed with profound contempt. Villefort fully understood his father's meaning, and answered by a slight shrug of his shoulders. He then motioned to his wife to take leave. "Now sir," said Madame de Villefort, "I must bid you farewell. Would you like me to send Edward to you for a short time?" 
It had been agreed that the old man should express his approbation by closing his eyes, his refusal by winking them several times, and if he had some desire or feeling to express, he raised them to heaven. If he wanted Valentine, he closed his right eye only, and if Barrois, the left. At Madame de Villefort's proposition he instantly winked his eyes. Provoked by a complete refusal, she bit her lip and said, "Then shall I send Valentine to you?" The old man closed his eyes eagerly, thereby intimating that such was his wish. M. and Madame de Villefort bowed and left the room, giving orders that Valentine should be summoned to her grandfather's presence, and feeling sure that she would have much to do to restore calmness to the perturbed spirit of the invalid. Valentine, with a color still heightened by emotion, entered the room just after her parents had quitted it. One look was sufficient to tell her that her grandfather was suffering, and that there was much on his mind which he was wishing to communicate to her. "Dear grandpapa," cried she, "what has happened? They have vexed you, and you are angry?" The paralytic closed his eyes in token of assent. "Who has displeased you? Is it my father?" 
"No." 
"Madame de Villefort?" 
"No." 
"Me?" The former sign was repeated. "Are you displeased with me?" cried Valentine in astonishment. M. Noirtier again closed his eyes. "And what have I done, dear grandpapa, that you should be angry with me?" cried Valentine. 
There was no answer, and she continued. "I have not seen you all day. Has any one been speaking to you against me?" 
"Yes," said the old man's look, with eagerness. 
"Let me think a moment. I do assure you, grandpapa--Ah--M. and Madame de Villefort have just left this room, have they not?" 
"Yes." 
"And it was they who told you something which made you angry? What was it then? May I go and ask them, that I may have the opportunity of making my peace with you?" 
"No, no," said Noirtier's look. 
"Ah, you frighten me. What can they have said?" and she again tried to think what it could be. 
"Ah, I know," said she, lowering her voice and going close to the old man. "They have been speaking of my marriage,--have they not?" 
"Yes," replied the angry look. 
"I understand; you are displeased at the silence I have preserved on the subject. The reason of it was, that they had insisted on my keeping the matter a secret, and begged me not to tell you anything of it. They did not even acquaint me with their intentions, and I only discovered them by chance, that is why I have been so reserved with you, dear grandpapa. Pray forgive me." But there was no look calculated to reassure her; all it seemed to say was, "It is not only your reserve which afflicts me." 
"What is it, then?" asked the young girl. "Perhaps you think I shall abandon you, dear grandpapa, and that I shall forget you when I am married?" 
"No." 
"They told you, then, that M. d'Epinay consented to our all living together?" 
"Yes." 
"Then why are you still vexed and grieved?" The old man's eyes beamed with an expression of gentle affection. "Yes, I understand," said Valentine; "it is because you love me." The old man assented. "And you are afraid I shall be unhappy?" 
"Yes." 
"You do not like M. Franz?" The eyes repeated several times, "No, no, no." 
"Then you are vexed with the engagement?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, listen," said Valentine, throwing herself on her knees, and putting her arm round her grandfather's neck, "I am vexed, too, for I do not love M. Franz d'Epinay." An expression of intense joy illumined the old man's eyes. "When I wished to retire into a convent, you remember how angry you were with me?" A tear trembled in the eye of the invalid. "Well," continued Valentine, "the reason of my proposing it was that I might escape this hateful marriage, which drives me to despair." Noirtier's breathing came thick and short. "Then the idea of this marriage really grieves you too? Ah, if you could but help me--if we could both together defeat their plan! But you are unable to oppose them,--you, whose mind is so quick, and whose will is so firm are nevertheless, as weak and unequal to the contest as I am myself. Alas, you, who would have been such a powerful protector to me in the days of your health and strength, can now only sympathize in my joys and sorrows, without being able to take any active part in them. However, this is much, and calls for gratitude and heaven has not taken away all my blessings when it leaves me your sympathy and kindness." 
At these words there appeared in Noirtier's eye an expression of such deep meaning that the young girl thought she could read these words there: "You are mistaken; I can still do much for you." 
"Do you think you can help me, dear grandpapa?" said Valentine. 
"Yes." Noirtier raised his eyes, it was the sign agreed on between him and Valentine when he wanted anything. 
"What is it you want, dear grandpapa?" said Valentine, and she endeavored to recall to mind all the things which he would be likely to need; and as the ideas presented themselves to her mind, she repeated them aloud, then,--finding that all her efforts elicited nothing but a constant "No,"--she said, "Come, since this plan does not answer, I will have recourse to another." She then recited all the letters of the alphabet from A down to N. When she arrived at that letter the paralytic made her understand that she had spoken the initial letter of the thing he wanted. "Ah," said Valentine, "the thing you desire begins with the letter N; it is with N that we have to do, then. Well, let me see, what can you want that begins with N? Na--Ne--Ni--No" -- 
"Yes, yes, yes," said the old man's eye. 
"Ah, it is No, then?" 
"Yes." Valentine fetched a dictionary, which she placed on a desk before Noirtier; she opened it, and, seeing that the odd man's eye was thoroughly fixed on its pages, she ran her finger quickly up and down the columns. During the six years which had passed since Noirtier first fell into this sad state, Valentine's powers of invention had been too often put to the test not to render her expert in devising expedients for gaining a knowledge of his wishes, and the constant practice had so perfected her in the art that she guessed the old man's meaning as quickly as if he himself had been able to seek for what he wanted. At the word Notary, Noirtier made a sign to her to stop. "Notary," said she, "do you want a notary, dear grandpapa?" The old man again signified that it was a notary he desired. 
"You would wish a notary to be sent for then?" said Valentine. 
"Yes." 
"Shall my father be informed of your wish?" 
"Yes." 
"Do you wish the notary to be sent for immediately?" 
"Yes." 
"Then they shall go for him directly, dear grandpapa. Is that all you want?" 
"Yes." Valentine rang the bell, and ordered the servant to tell Monsieur or Madame de Villefort that they were requested to come to M. Noirtier's room. "Are you satisfied now?" inquired Valentine. 
"Yes." 
"I am sure you are; it is not very difficult to discover that,"--and the young girl smiled on her grandfather, as if he had been a child. M. de Villefort entered, followed by Barrois. "What do you want me for, sir?" demanded he of the paralytic. 
"Sir," said Valentine, "my grandfather wishes for a notary." At this strange and unexpected demand M. de Villefort and his father exchanged looks. "Yes," motioned the latter, with a firmness which seemed to declare that with the help of Valentine and his old servant, who both knew what his wishes were, he was quite prepared to maintain the contest. "Do you wish for a notary?" asked Villefort. 
"Yes." 
"What to do?" 
Noirtier made no answer. "What do you want with a notary?" again repeated Villefort. The invalid's eye remained fixed, by which expression he intended to intimate that his resolution was unalterable. "Is it to do us some ill turn? Do you think it is worth while?" said Villefort. 
"Still," said Barrois, with the freedom and fidelity of an old servant, "if M. Noirtier asks for a notary, I suppose he really wishes for a notary; therefore I shall go at once and fetch one." Barrois acknowledged no master but Noirtier, and never allowed his desires in any way to be contradicted. 
"Yes, I do want a notary," motioned the old man, shutting his eyes with a look of defiance, which seemed to say, "and I should like to see the person who dares to refuse my request." 
"You shall have a notary, as you absolutely wish for one, sir," said Villefort; "but I shall explain to him your state of health, and make excuses for you, for the scene cannot fail of being a most ridiculous one." 
"Never mind that," said Barrois; "I shall go and fetch a notary, nevertheless,"--and the old servant departed triumphantly on his mission.  
现在让我们来说说腾格拉尔夫人和她的女儿离开以后，在马西米兰和瓦朗蒂娜幽会期间检察官家里所发生的事情。 
维尔福先生走进他父亲的房间，后面跟着维尔福夫人。两位来访者向老人行了礼，和巴罗斯——一个忠心耿耿、已任职二十五年的仆人——讲了几句话，然后就在那个瘫老人的两旁坐下来。 
诺瓦蒂埃先生坐在一张下面有轮子可以推动的圈椅里。 
早晨，他坐到椅子上在房间里推过来推过去，到了晚上再让人把他从圈椅里抱出来。他的前面摆着一面大镜子，镜子里照着整个房间，可使他一点儿不必转动——他根本就不能转动——就可以看见所有走进房间里来的人和他四周的所有情形。诺瓦蒂埃先生虽然象一具僵尸一样一点儿动弹不得，但却用一种机警聪慧的表情望着这两个刚来的人，从他们这种周到的礼节上，他立刻看出他们是为着一件意想不到的要紧事而来的。他现在只剩下了视觉和听觉，在他这个看来只配到坟墓里去的可怜的躯壳里，只有这两样器官给他添上了一点生气，象是一炉死灰里的两处尚存的孤独的火光；可是，那怕只用这两种器官中的一个，他就可以表现出他脑子里仍旧还在活动的思想和感觉，他可以用眼光来传达他的内心活动，他的目光象是一个在荒漠里夜行的旅客所看到的远处的灯光，从这远处的灯光上，他可以知道在那一片黑暗和静寂中还有另外一个人醒着。诺瓦蒂埃的头发又长又白，一直披到他的肩头；睫毛又密且黑，睫毛底下的那一双眼睛，汇集着所有的活力、语言和智慧；这并不是什么稀奇事，在一个只用一种器官来代替其他各种器官的人，以前分散在全身的精力就凝聚到了一个地方。当然喽，他的手臂已不能活动，他的嗓子也已不能再发出声音，他的身体失去了活动能力，但那一对有神的眼睛已完全可以代替一切了。他用他的眼睛来发号施令；他用他的眼睛来表示感激之情——总之，他用一对活的眼睛表达出一具尸体头脑里的全部感想，在那副大理石般的脸上，有时会射出一道愤怒的火光，有时又会流露出一片喜悦的光泽，看了令人非常吃惊。 
只有三个人能懂得这个可怜的瘫老人的这种语言：就是维尔福、瓦朗蒂娜和我们刚提到过的那个老仆人。但维尔福很少来看他的父亲，除非绝对必需，他绝不愿意前来和他说什么话，所以这位老人的全部快乐都集中到了他的孙女儿身上。瓦朗蒂娜，以她的爱、她的耐心和她的热情，已学会了如何从诺瓦蒂埃的目光里明白他脑中的种种感觉。旁人虽无法懂得这种无声的语言，但她却能用他嗓子的各种语调，用他脸上的各种表情，和他灵魂里的全部热情把它传达出来，所以这位年轻女郎和这位无助的残废人之间，仍然可以进行畅谈，而后者的身体虽然几乎已不能称得上活着，但他依旧是一个知识广博、见解透晰和意志坚强的人。他的肉体虽已僵木，可是他的精神却仍能操纵一切。瓦朗蒂娜解决了这个奇特的语言问题，能很容易地懂得他的心思和把她自己的意见传达给他。她用孜孜不倦的热情，凡是日常生活上的普通事务，她极少会误解老人的意思，总能满足那依旧还活着而且还能思想的那大脑的希望和那个差不多已经死掉的身体的需要。至于那位仆人，我们已经说过了，他和他的主人已相处二十五年，所以他知道他的所有习惯，极少需要诺瓦蒂埃自己来要求什么东西。 
维尔福马上就要和他的父亲进行一次非同寻常的谈话了。他无需瓦朗蒂娜或那仆人的帮助。我们前面说过，他完全明白这位老人的语言，如果说他并没有常常利用这种理解力，那是因为他对父亲决不关心或懒得和他接触的缘故。所以他让瓦朗蒂娜到花园里去，并且支开巴罗斯，他自己坐在他父亲的右边，维尔福夫人则坐在左边，然后他就对他说：“阁下，我没有去叫瓦朗蒂娜来，并且还支开了巴罗斯，我想您不会觉着不高兴，因为我们要商量的这件事当着他们的面谈不合适。维尔福夫人和我要向您报告一个消息。” 
在维尔福讲这一大段开场白的过程中，诺瓦蒂埃的脸上始终毫无表情，维尔福则恰恰相反，他极力想把他的眼光穿透到老人的心底里。 
“这个消息，”检察官用那种冷淡和坚决的口气继续说，似乎要断然拒绝一切商量余地似的，“嗯，我们相信一定会得到您的赞许。” 
那位残废人的眼光里仍然保持着那种漠然的表情，不让他的儿子探测到他脑子里的感想。他听着——只是表现出他听着而已。 
“阁下，”维尔福又说，“我们想给瓦朗蒂娜操办婚事了。” 
即使老人的脸是用蜡浇成的，也不能如此淡漠无情了，这个消息并没有在他的脸上产生任何动情的痕迹。 
“婚事在三个月之内就要举行。”维尔福说。 
诺瓦蒂埃的眼睛仍然保持着那种毫无反应的表情。维尔福夫人这时也来参加谈话，接上说：“我们想您大概很关心这个消息，阁下，因为您一向非常钟爱瓦朗蒂娜，所以我们现在只要把她那个青年人的名字告诉您就得了。瓦朗蒂娜的这门亲事最理想不过了。他很有家产，社会地位也很高，至于他的人品，可以保证她将来生活得很幸福。而且他的名字您大概也不会完全不知道。我们说的那个人就是伊皮奈男爵，弗兰兹·奎斯奈尔先生。” 
在他的妻子讲话的过程中，维尔福仔细打量着那老人的脸。当维尔福夫人说出伊皮奈这个名字的时候，诺瓦蒂埃先生眼睛里的瞳孔便开始渐渐放大，同时他的眼皮象一个快要讲话时的人的嘴唇那样抖动起来，他向维尔福夫人和他的儿子闪电般地扫射了一眼。检察官知道诺瓦蒂埃先生和老伊皮奈之间政治宿仇，很明白做这个宣布所产生出的激怒，但他假装没有觉得，等他的妻子说完以后就接着往下说下去。 
“阁下，”他说，“您知道瓦朗蒂娜都快要十九岁了，所以必须赶快给她找上一门适当的亲事。我们作打算的时候并没有忘记您，我们事先已经打听得十分清楚：瓦朗蒂娜未来的丈夫同意——不是同意住在这座房子里，因为住在这里这一对年轻人大概会觉着不方便，而是同意您去和他们住在一起。您和瓦朗蒂娜从来都是相依为命的，这样就可以互相不分离，你的习惯也不至于受到破坏，那时您不仅有一个，而且会有两个孩子来照顾您了。” 
诺瓦蒂埃的目光中显出了盛怒，显然那老人的脑子里在煎熬着某种极痛苦的念头。因为那悲愤的喊叫已升到了他的喉咙口，但因为喊不出来，所以几乎窒息了他。他的瞳孔和嘴唇憋得发了紫。维尔福静静地打开了一扇窗子，说道：“天气暖极了，把诺瓦蒂埃先生热坏了。”然后他又回到了他原来的地方，但没有再坐下来。 
“这门亲事，”维尔福夫人又说道，“伊皮奈先生和他的家人也是很乐意的，而且，他也没什么近亲，只有一位叔父和一个婶娘，她母亲是在他出生的时候死的，他父亲在一八一五年遭人暗杀。当时他只有两岁。所以他可以自己拿主意。” 
“那次的暗杀事件很神秘，”维尔福说道，“凶手至今也没查出来，尽管有嫌疑的人不止一个。”诺瓦蒂埃费了很大的劲，竟在嘴边显出了微笑。“哦，”维尔福继续说道，“那些真正有罪的人，这桩罪案的主犯，总有一天会落到法律的手里的，然后他们将再受到上帝的审判，那些人大概倒很乐于处在我们的位置，嫁一个女儿给弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，借此洗刷掉外表上的一切嫌疑。” 
诺瓦蒂埃这次倒很能控制住自己的情绪，不象是一个衰弱瘫痪的人。“是的，我懂的。”他的目光中流露出这样的回答，在这种目光里，还有一种强烈的激愤和极其蔑视的情感。 
维尔福充分懂得他父亲的意思，他微微耸了耸肩，然后向他的妻子示意可以走了。 
“现在，阁下，”维尔福夫人说道，“我必须向您告辞了。您要不要我叫爱德华来陪您一会儿？” 
大家早就约定；假如老人表示同意，他就闭一下眼睛，假如表示不同意，就连眨几下，假如他想说什么，他就抬眼向天。假如他要瓦朗蒂娜来，就只闭他的右眼，假如要巴罗斯来，就闭左眼。此时听到维尔福人的这个建议，他立刻眨了几下眼睛。这种断然的拒绝使她很难堪，她咬了一下嘴唇，说道：“那么要我叫瓦朗蒂娜来吗？”老人热切地闭了眼睛，表明他正希望如此。维尔福夫妇鞠了一躬，走出了房间，吩咐去叫瓦朗蒂娜来。瓦朗蒂娜已经知道她今天得和诺瓦蒂埃先生特别多谈一次。她的父母刚一出去，她就进来了，脸上依旧带着激动的神情。她一眼就看出她的祖父很痛苦，知道他心里一定有很多事要讲给她听。“亲爱的爷爷”，她大声说道，“怎么啦？他们惹您不高兴了，您心里很不痛快是吗？” 
那瘫子老人闭一闭眼睛，确认了。 
“那么，您生谁的气呢？生我父亲的吗？不是。生维尔福夫人的吗？也不是。是生我的吗？” 
老人作了一下肯定的表示。 
“生我的？”瓦朗蒂娜惊愕地说。 
老人又肯定了一下这个意思。 
“亲爱的爷爷，我做错了什么事，以致您要生我的气呢？” 
瓦朗蒂娜大声说道。 
没有回答，于是她继续说：“我今天一整天没见过您。有人对您谈到我了吗？” 
“是的。”老人的目光急切地说。 
“让我来想一想。我真可以向您保证，爷爷——啊！维尔福先生和维尔福夫人刚刚离开这个房间，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“他们告诉了您一件事，您是因为那件事才动怒的，是不是？那么，是什么事呢？我可不可以先去问问他们，然后再来向您解释？” 
“不，不！”诺瓦蒂埃的目光说。 
“啊！您吓坏我啦。他们都讲了些什么事呢？”于是她现出一种苦思冥想的样子。 
“啊，我知道了，”她压低了声音，靠到老人身边说道，“他们谈到了我的婚事，对不对？” 
“是的。”那愤怒的目光回答。 
“我懂了，您生气是因为我没告诉您这件事。可那是因为他们坚持要我保守秘密，求我一点都不要告诉您的，他们甚至都不让我知道他们的想法，我也是自己碰巧发现的。这就是我对您保持缄默的原因，亲爱的爷爷。请宽恕我吧。” 
但老人的目光里并没有使她感到安心，它似乎在说：“我所生气的并不只是你的缄默。” 
“那么还有什么呢？”那青年女郎问道。“亲爱的爷爷，或许您以为我会抛弃您，以为我会在结婚之后忘了您，是不是？” 
“不。” 
“那么，他们已经告诉您伊皮奈先生同意我们大家住在一起报？” 
“是的。” 
“那么您为什么还要不高兴呢？” 
老人的眼睛里露出了一种爱抚的目光。 
“噢，我懂了，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，“那是因为您爱我。” 
老人同意了。 
“您是怕我将来会不快乐？” 
“是的。” 
“您不喜欢弗兰兹先生吗？” 
那双眼眼接连眨了几下：“不，不，不。” 
“您不高兴结这门亲事吗？” 
“是的。” 
“嗯，听我说，”瓦朗蒂娜跪下来抱住她祖父的脖子说道，“我也很烦恼，因为我并不爱弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生。”老人的眼里闪烁出欣喜。“您还记得吗，当我想遁世入修道院的时候，您当时是多么得生我的气？”泪水在那不中用的老人的眼睛里颤动着。“嗯，瓦朗蒂娜继续说道，“我之所以想那么做，就是为了要逃避这个可恨的婚姻，当时我绝望极啦。”诺瓦蒂埃的呼吸变得急促沉重起来。“那么您真的也不高兴这桩婚事吗？啊，假如您能帮助我，假如我们能一同推翻他们的计划，那就好了！但您无法反对他们。您，您虽然头脑很灵敏，意志很坚决，但在这场抗争中，您却象我一样的软弱，象我一样的不是他们的对手。唉，要是您现在仍很健康有力的话，您会强有力地保护我的，可是您只能同情我的欢喜和悲哀！你的同情是我最后的快乐，幸亏上帝忘了这一点，才没有把它和我其他的一切快乐同时夺去。” 
听了这些话，诺瓦蒂埃露出了一种意味深长的目光，以致姑娘觉得她从那种目光里读到了这些话：“你错了，我仍然可以帮你很大的忙。” 
“您真的以为能帮助我吗，亲爱的爷爷？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。 
“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃抬起眼睛来。这是他和瓦朗蒂娜约定好了的，当他有所需求的时候就这样来表达他的意思。 
“您要什么，亲爱的爷爷？”瓦朗蒂娜说道，并极力在脑子里搜索他可能需要的东西，想到一样就高声说出来；但当看到她的一切努力老是只得到一个“不”，她就说道，“来吧，既然我笨成这个样子，就来用那个大法宝吧。”于是她从头背起字母来，一边背，一边用她的微笑来讯问那瘫子老人的眼光。当背到Ｎ这个字母上，诺瓦蒂埃作了一个肯定的表示。 
“啊，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，“您所想要的东西是以Ｎ打头的，那么我们从Ｎ来想办法好了。嗯，让我来想想看，从Ｎ打头的您能要什么东西呢？Ｎａ——Ｎｅ—Ｎｉ—Ｎｏ—” 
“是了，是了，是了。”老人的眼睛说。 
“啊，那么是以Ｎｏ打头的了？” 
“是的。” 
瓦朗蒂娜拿来了一本字典，把它放到诺瓦蒂埃面前的书桌上。她打开字典，看到老人的眼光全神贯注地盯在书上，就用手指顺着行次很快地上下数过去。诺瓦蒂埃陷入这种可悲的境地已有六年了，这六年间，瓦朗蒂娜的创造发明能力使她常常想出各种便于了解他的心思的方法，而她因此成了这方面的专家，再加经常的练习，她已娴熟地驾驭了这门技能，因此她才能极快地猜出老人的意思，简直和他能说话一样。当她指到Ｎｏｔａｒｙ（公证人）”这个字时，诺瓦蒂埃作了一个叫她停下来的表示。“公证人，”她说道，“您想要一个公证人吗，亲爱的爷爷？”老人又给了一个同意的表示。 
“那么，您希望派人去找一个公证人来吗？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。 
“是的。” 
“您要不要把您的意思告诉我的父亲？” 
“要的。” 
“您希望马上就去找公证人来吗？” 
“是的。” 
“那么叫他们立刻去找好了，亲爱的爷爷。您还要别的东西吗？” 
“不要了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜拉铃吩咐仆人去告诉维尔福先生和夫人，请他们到诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间里来。 
“您现在满意了吗？”瓦朗蒂娜说道。“满意了？我相信您已满意了。是吗？这事可真不容易猜到，是不是？”于是那姑娘向她的祖父微笑了一下，就好象他是一个小孩子似的。 
维尔福先生来了，后面跟着巴罗斯。“你叫我来有什么事，阁下？”他问那瘫子老人。 
“阁下，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，“祖父想要一位公证人。” 
听到这个意外的奇怪要求，维尔福先生把询问的目光转向了他的父亲。“是的，”后者表示确认，而且态度很坚决，表示瓦朗蒂姆和他的老仆都已知道了他的希望，而有了他们的帮助，他已准备好要和他进行一番斗争了。 
“你想要一位公证人？”维尔福问道。 
“是的。” 
“做什么？” 
“诺瓦蒂埃没有回答。 
“你要公证人来做什么？” 
“那不中用的老人的眼光始终坚定不移，他正是用这种表情来显示他的决心是不可动摇的。 
“您是想做什么事来对付我们吗？你觉得这样做值得吗？” 
维尔福说道。 
“唉，”巴罗斯说道，他要以一个老仆人的忠心来维护他的主人了，“如果诺瓦蒂埃先生想要找一位公证人，我想他大概是真的需要吧，我还是立刻去找一位来吧。”在巴罗斯眼里除了诺瓦蒂埃以外，他是不承认再有别的主人的，因而也就决不允许他主人的意愿受到任何阻挠。 
“是的，我要一位公证人，”老人再次肯定地表示，带着一种挑衅的神气闭了一他的眼睛，象是说，“我倒想看看谁敢拒绝我的要求。” 
“既然你一定想要找一位公证人来，当然也可以，阁下，” 
维尔福说道，“但我要先把你的身体状况解释给他听，替你先说明一下，免得到时候的情形显得可笑。” 
“没关系，”巴罗斯说道，“总之我去找一位公证人来就是了。”说完那老仆人便得意扬扬地办事去了。 
Chapter 59 The Will
 AS SOON AS Barrois had left the room, Noirtier looked at Valentine with a malicious expression that said many things. The young girl perfectly understood the look, and so did Villefort, for his countenance became clouded, and he knitted his eyebrows angrily. He took a seat, and quietly awaited the arrival of the notary. Noirtier saw him seat himself with an appearance of perfect indifference, at the same time giving a side look at Valentine, which made her understand that she also was to remain in the room. Three-quarters of an hour after, Barrois returned, bringing the notary with him. "Sir," said Villefort, after the first salutations were over, "you were sent for by M. Noirtier, whom you see here. All his limbs have become completely paralysed, he has lost his voice also, and we ourselves find much trouble in endeavoring to catch some fragments of his meaning." Noirtier cast an appealing look on Valentine, which look was at once so earnest and imperative, that she answered immediately. "Sir," said she, "I perfectly understand my grandfather's meaning at all times." 
"That is quite true," said Barrois; "and that is what I told the gentleman as we walked along." 
"Permit me," said the notary, turning first to Villefort and then to Valentine--"permit me to state that the case in question is just one of those in which a public officer like myself cannot proceed to act without thereby incurring a dangerous responsibility. The first thing necessary to render an act valid is, that the notary should be thoroughly convinced that he has faithfully interpreted the will and wishes of the person dictating the act. Now I cannot be sure of the approbation or disapprobation of a client who cannot speak, and as the object of his desire or his repugnance cannot be clearly proved to me, on account of his want of speech, my services here would be quite useless, and cannot be legally exercised." The notary then prepared to retire. An imperceptible smile of triumph was expressed on the lips of the procureur. Noirtier looked at Valentine with an expression so full of grief, that she arrested the departure of the notary. "Sir," said she, "the language which I speak with my grandfather may be easily learnt, and I can teach you in a few minutes, to understand it almost as well as I can myself. Will you tell me what you require, in order to set your conscience quite at ease on the subject?" 
"In order to render an act valid, I must be certain of the approbation or disapprobation of my client. Illness of body would not affect the validity of the deed, but sanity of mind is absolutely requisite." 
"Well, sir, by the help of two signs, with which I will acquaint you presently, you may ascertain with perfect certainty that my grandfather is still in the full possession of all his mental faculties. M. Noirtier, being deprived of voice and motion, is accustomed to convey his meaning by closing his eyes when he wishes to signify 'yes,' and to wink when he means 'no.' You now know quite enough to enable you to converse with M. Noirtier;--try." Noirtier gave Valentine such a look of tenderness and gratitude that it was comprehended even by the notary himself. "You have heard and understood what your granddaughter has been saying, sir, have you?" asked the notary. Noirtier closed his eyes. "And you approve of what she said--that is to say, you declare that the signs which she mentioned are really those by means of which you are accustomed to convey your thoughts?" 
"Yes." 
"It was you who sent for me?" 
"Yes." 
"To make your will?" 
"Yes." 
"And you do not wish me to go away without fulfilling your original intentions?" The old man winked violently. "Well, sir," said the young girl, "do you understand now, and is your conscience perfectly at rest on the subject?" But before the notary could answer, Villefort had drawn him aside. "Sir," said he, "do you suppose for a moment that a man can sustain a physical shock, such as M. Noirtier has received, without any detriment to his mental faculties?" 
"It is not exactly that, sir," said the notary, "which makes me uneasy, but the difficulty will be in wording his thoughts and intentions, so as to be able to get his answers." 
"You must see that to be an utter impossibility," said Villefort. Valentine and the old man heard this conversation, and Noirtier fixed his eye so earnestly on Valentine that she felt bound to answer to the look. 
"Sir," said she, "that need not make you uneasy, however difficult it may at first sight appear to be. I can discover and explain to you my grandfather's thoughts, so as to put an end to all your doubts and fears on the subject. I have now been six years with M. Noirtier, and let him tell you if ever once, during that time, he has entertained a thought which he was unable to make me understand." 
"No," signed the old man. 
"Let us try what we can do, then," said the notary. "You accept this young lady as your interpreter, M. Noirtier?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, sir, what do you require of me, and what document is it that you wish to be drawn up?" Valentine named all the letters of the alphabet until she came to W. At this letter the eloquent eye of Noirtier gave her notice that she was to stop. "It is very evident that it is the letter W which M. Noirtier wants," said the notary. "Wait," said Valentine; and, turning to her grandfather, she repeated, "Wa--We--Wi"--The old man stopped her at the last syllable. Valentine then took the dictionary, and the notary watched her while she turned over the pages. She passed her finger slowly down the columns, and when she came to the word "Will," M. Noirtier's eye bade her stop. "Will," said the notary; "it is very evident that M. Noirtier is desirous of making his will." 
"Yes, yes, yes," motioned the invalid. 
"Really, sir, you must allow that this is most extraordinary," said the astonished notary, turning to M. de Villefort. "Yes," said the procureur, "and I think the will promises to be yet more extraordinary, for I cannot see how it is to be drawn up without the intervention of Valentine, and she may, perhaps, be considered as too much interested in its contents to allow of her being a suitable interpreter of the obscure and ill-defined wishes of her grandfather." 
"No, no, no," replied the eye of the paralytic. 
"What?" said Villefort, "do you mean to say that Valentine is not interested in your will?" 
"No." 
"Sir," said the notary, whose interest had been greatly excited, and who had resolved on publishing far and wide the account of this extraordinary and picturesque scene, "what appeared so impossible to me an hour ago, has now become quite easy and practicable, and this may be a perfectly valid will, provided it be read in the presence of seven witnesses, approved by the testator, and sealed by the notary in the presence of the witnesses. As to the time, it will not require very much more than the generality of wills. There are certain forms necessary to be gone through, and which are always the same. As to the details, the greater part will be furnished afterwards by the state in which we find the affairs of the testator, and by yourself, who, having had the management of them, can doubtless give full information on the subject. But besides all this, in order that the instrument may not be contested, I am anxious to give it the greatest possible authenticity, therefore, one of my colleagues will help me, and, contrary to custom, will assist in the dictation of the testament. Are you satisfied, sir?" continued the notary, addressing the old man. 
"Yes," looked the invalid, his eye beaming with delight at the ready interpretation of his meaning. 
"What is he going to do?" thought Villefort, whose position demanded much reserve, but who was longing to know what his father's intentions were. He left the room to give orders for another notary to be sent, but Barrois, who had heard all that passed, had guessed his master's wishes, and had already gone to fetch one. The procureur then told his wife to come up. In the course of a quarter of an hour every one had assembled in the chamber of the paralytic; the second notary had also arrived. A few words sufficed for a mutual understanding between the two officers of the law. They read to Noirtier the formal copy of a will, in order to give him an idea of the terms in which such documents are generally couched; then, in order to test the capacity of the testator, the first notary said, turning towards him,--"When an individual makes his will, it is generally in favor or in prejudice of some person." 
"Yes." 
"Have you an exact idea of the amount of your fortune?" 
"Yes." 
"I will name to you several sums which will increase by gradation; you will stop me when I reach the one representing the amount of your own possessions?" 
"Yes." There was a kind of solemnity in this interrogation. Never had the struggle between mind and matter been more apparent than now, and if it was not a sublime, it was, at least, a curious spectacle. They had formed a circle round the invalid; the second notary was sitting at a table, prepared for writing, and his colleague was standing before the testator in the act of interrogating him on the subject to which we have alluded. "Your fortune exceeds 300,000 francs, does it not?" asked he. Noirtier made a sign that it did. "Do you possess 400,000 francs?" inquired the notary. Noirtier's eye remained immovable. "Five hundred thousand?" The same expression continued. "Six hundred thousand--700,000--800,000--900,000?" Noirtier stopped him at the last-named sum. "You are then in possession of 900,000 francs?" asked the notary. "Yes." 
"In landed property?" 
"No." 
"In stock?" 
"Yes." 
"The stock is in your own hands?" The look which M. Noirtier cast on Barrois showed that there was something wanting which he knew where to find. The old servant left the room, and presently returned, bringing with him a small casket. "Do you permit us to open this casket?" asked the notary. Noirtier gave his assent. They opened it, and found 900,000 francs in bank scrip. The first notary handed over each note, as he examined it, to his colleague. 
The total amount was found to be as M. Noirtier had stated. "It is all as he has said; it is very evident that the mind still retains its full force and vigor." Then, turning towards the paralytic, he said, "You possess, then, 900,000 francs of capital, which, according to the manner in which you have invested it, ought to bring in an income of about 40,000 livres?" 
"Yes." 
"To whom do you desire to leave this fortune?" 
"Oh," said Madame de Villefort, "there is not much doubt on that subject. M. Noirtier tenderly loves his granddaughter, Mademoiselle de Villefort; it is she who has nursed and tended him for six years, and has, by her devoted attention, fully secured the affection, I had almost said the gratitude, of her grandfather, and it is but just that she should reap the fruit of her devotion." The eye of Noirtier clearly showed by its expression that he was not deceived by the false assent given by Madame de Villefort's words and manner to the motives which she supposed him to entertain. "Is it, then, to Mademoiselle Valentine de Villefort that you leave these 900,000 francs?" demanded the notary, thinking he had only to insert this clause, but waiting first for the assent of Noirtier, which it was necessary should be given before all the witnesses of this singular scene. Valentine, when her name was made the subject of discussion, had stepped back, to escape unpleasant observation; her eyes were cast down, and she was crying. The old man looked at her for an instant with an expression of the deepest tenderness, then, turning towards the notary, he significantly winked his eye in token of dissent. 
"What," said the notary, "do you not intend making Mademoiselle Valentine de Villefort your residuary legatee?" 
"No." 
"You are not making any mistake, are you?" said the notary; "you really mean to declare that such is not your intention?" 
"No," repeated Noirtier; "No." Valentine raised her head, struck dumb with astonishment. It was not so much the conviction that she was disinherited that caused her grief, but her total inability to account for the feelings which had provoked her grandfather to such an act. But Noirtier looked at her with so much affectionate tenderness that she exclaimed, "Oh, grandpapa, I see now that it is only your fortune of which you deprive me; you still leave me the love which I have always enjoyed." 
"Ah, yes, most assuredly," said the eyes of the paralytic, for he closed them with an expression which Valentine could not mistake. "Thank you, thank you," murmured she. The old man's declaration that Valentine was not the destined inheritor of his fortune had excited the hopes of Madame de Villefort; she gradually approached the invalid, and said: "Then, doubtless, dear M. Noirtier, you intend leaving your fortune to your grandson, Edward de Villefort?" The winking of the eyes which answered this speech was most decided and terrible, and expressed a feeling almost amounting to hatred. 
"No?" said the notary; "then, perhaps, it is to your son, M. de Villefort?" 
"No." The two notaries looked at each other in mute astonishment and inquiry as to what were the real intentions of the testator. Villefort and his wife both grew red, one from shame, the other from anger. 
"What have we all done, then, dear grandpapa?" said Valentine; "you no longer seem to love any of us?" The old man's eyes passed rapidly from Villefort and his wife, and rested on Valentine with a look of unutterable fondness. "Well," said she; "if you love me, grandpapa, try and bring that love to bear upon your actions at this present moment. You know me well enough to be quite sure that I have never thought of your fortune; besides, they say I am already rich in right of my mother--too rich, even. Explain yourself, then." Noirtier fixed his intelligent eyes on Valentine's hand. "My hand?" said she. 
"Yes." 
"Her hand!" exclaimed every one. 
"Oh, gentlemen, you see it is all useless, and that my father's mind is really impaired," said Villefort. 
"Ah," cried Valentine suddenly, "I understand. It is my marriage you mean, is it not, dear grandpapa?" 
"Yes, yes, yes," signed the paralytic, casting on Valentine a look of joyful gratitude for having guessed his meaning. 
"You are angry with us all on account of this marriage, are you not?" 
"Yes?" 
"Really, this is too absurd," said Villefort. 
"Excuse me, sir," replied the notary; "on the contrary, the meaning of M. Noirtier is quite evident to me, and I can quite easily connect the train of ideas passing in his mind." 
"You do not wish me to marry M. Franz d'Epinay?" observed Valentine. 
"I do not wish it," said the eye of her grandfather. "And you disinherit your granddaughter," continued the notary, "because she has contracted an engagement contrary to your wishes?" 
"Yes." 
"So that, but for this marriage, she would have been your heir?" 
"Yes." There was a profound silence. The two notaries were holding a consultation as to the best means of proceeding with the affair. Valentine was looking at her grandfather with a smile of intense gratitude, and Villefort was biting his lips with vexation, while Madame de Villefort could not succeed in repressing an inward feeling of joy, which, in spite of herself, appeared in her whole countenance. "But," said Villefort, who was the first to break the silence, "I consider that I am the best judge of the propriety of the marriage in question. I am the only person possessing the right to dispose of my daughter's hand. It is my wish that she should marry M. Franz d'Epinay--and she shall marry him." Valentine sank weeping into a chair. 
"Sir," said the notary, "how do you intend disposing of your fortune in case Mademoiselle de Villefort still determines on marrying M. Franz?" The old man gave no answer. "You will, of course, dispose of it in some way or other?" 
"Yes." 
"In favor of some member of your family?" 
"No." 
"Do you intend devoting it to charitable purposes, then?" pursued the notary. 
"Yes." 
"But," said the notary, "you are aware that the law does not allow a son to be entirely deprived of his patrimony?" 
"Yes." 
"You only intend, then, to dispose of that part of your fortune which the law allows you to subtract from the inheritance of your son?" Noirtier made no answer. "Do you still wish to dispose of all?" 
"Yes." 
"But they will contest the will after your death?" 
"No." 
"My father knows me," replied Villefort; "he is quite sure that his wishes will be held sacred by me; besides, he understands that in my position I cannot plead against the poor." The eye of Noirtier beamed with triumph. "What do you decide on, sir?" asked the notary of Villefort. 
"Nothing, sir; it is a resolution which my father has taken and I know he never alters his mind. I am quite resigned. These 900,000 francs will go out of the family in order to enrich some hospital; but it is ridiculous thus to yield to the caprices of an old man, and I shall, therefore, act according to my conscience." Having said this, Villefort quitted the room with his wife, leaving his father at liberty to do as he pleased. The same day the will was made, the witnesses were brought, it was approved by the old man, sealed in the presence of all and given in charge to M. Deschamps, the family notary.  
巴罗斯一走出房间，诺瓦蒂埃便意味深长地望着瓦朗蒂娜。那姑娘完全懂得这种目光的含意，维尔福也是懂得的，见他的脸阴沉沉的，两道眉因恼怒而紧皱到了一起。他在一张椅子上坐下来，静候那公证人到来。诺瓦蒂埃看到他坐下，表面上虽显得毫不在意，但却向瓦朗蒂娜瞟了一眼，她明白这是在说要她留在房间里不要走。半个多钟头后，巴罗斯带着那公证人回来了。 
“阁下，”维尔福在寒暄过以后说道，“是诺瓦蒂埃先生请您来的，就是这位。他已全身瘫痪，不能讲话，我们常常要费很大的劲才能略懂一点他的意思。”诺瓦蒂埃向瓦朗蒂娜投去了一个恳求的目光，这目光中充满了焦急和迫切，她赶紧回答说：“阁下，我随时都能完全懂得我祖父的意思。” 
“这倒是真的，”巴罗斯说道，“我们一路走来的时候，我已经对这位先生这样说过了。” 
“请允许我，”公证人说道，“他先转向维尔福，然后又转向瓦朗蒂娜，“请允许我说一句话，我是位公职人员，目前这件案子，假如轻率处理的话，必然会发生危险的责任问题。公证要想有效的一个必备条件，就是公证人须完全确信他已忠实地按照委托人的意愿行事。现在，对一位不能讲话的委托人，我无法确定他准确意思，由于他失去语言能力，不能清楚地向我表明他的好恶，所以我在这儿所做了一切都不能算是合法的，即使做了也是无效的。” 
说完那位公证人便准备告辞了。检察官的嘴角上浮过一个令人难以觉察的胜利的微笑，诺瓦蒂埃则是一副悲哀的表情望着瓦朗蒂娜，所以她急忙拦住了那位公证人，不让他离开。“阁下，”她说道，“我和我祖父进行交流的语言是很容易学会的。我可以在几分钟之内教会您的，而且可以使您几乎象我一样明白他的确切意思。您能否告诉我，您在这方面的要求是什么？” 
“为了使公证有效，我必须能明白无误地确定我的委托人对某些事是表示同意还是表示反对。身体上的病症并不影响契约的有效性，但头脑则必须绝对清醒才行。” 
“哦，阁下，仅从两个表示上您就可以完全确定我祖父的脑力依旧是十分健全的。诺瓦蒂埃先生由于不能讲话和行走，所以老是用闭眼睛来表示‘是’，用眨眼睛表示’不。您现在就可以跟诺瓦蒂埃谈话了。请试试吧。” 
诺瓦蒂埃向瓦朗蒂娜投去了一个非常亲切和感激的目光，甚至连公证人都明白了。“您已经听到并且懂得您孙女刚才所说的话了吧？阁下？”公证人问道。诺瓦蒂埃闭了一下眼睛。“那您同意她所说的话——就是说，您一向的是象她刚才所说的那样来表达您的想法的，是吗？” 
“是的。” 
“是您要找我来的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“来给您立遗嘱吗？” 
“是的。” 
“您愿不愿意我在还没了却您原先的心愿以前就离开？” 
老人拼命地眨着眼睛。 
“阁下，”那姑娘说道，“您现在懂了吧，您可以完全放心了吧？” 
公证人还没等回答，维尔福就把他拉到了一边。 
“阁下，”他说道，“您想想看，象诺瓦蒂埃先生身体状况变成这个样子的人，他的脑力能丝毫不受影响吗？” 
“我倒不是担心那一点，先生，”公证人说道，“而是要先弄清他的思想才能引出他的回答，困难在这里。” 
“您也看出这是没法办到的事了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜和老人都听到了这一段谈话；诺瓦蒂埃又目光急切地看着瓦朗蒂娜，以致她觉得必须挺身而出。 
“阁下，”她说道，“这件事乍看起来似乎是很困难，但您尽管放心好了。我可以弄清我祖父的思想，并可以解释给您听，以消除您的一切疑虑。我和诺瓦蒂埃先生相处已六年了，让他对您说吧，在那段期间里，有没有过哪次我不清楚他脑子里是怎么想的。 
“没有。”老人表示。 
“那么好吧，我们且来试试看吧，看我们能做些什么，”公证人说道，“您接受这位小姐为您做解释吗，诺瓦蒂埃先生？” 
那瘫子老人作了一个肯定的表示。 
“好吧，先生，您要我来做什么，您想立什么字据吗？” 
瓦朗蒂娜又打开了字母，当背到Ｔ这个母时，诺瓦蒂埃以目光示意她停止。 
“诺瓦蒂埃先生所要的东西显然是以Ｔ字母打头的。”公证人说道。 
“等一等，”瓦朗蒂娜说道，她转向她的祖父，继续背道，“Ｔａ—Ｔｅ。” 
老人听到她背到第二组字母时就止住了她。于是瓦朗蒂娜拿过字典，在公证人的目光下翻动着。她用手指慢慢地一行一行地在书页上移过去，当指到“Ｔｅｓｔａｍｅｎｔ（遗嘱）”这个字时，诺瓦蒂埃先生的以目光吩咐她停住。“遗嘱！”公证人大声说道，“这已经很明白了，诺瓦蒂埃先生要立他的遗嘱。” 
“是的，是的，是的！”那不中用的老人表示。 
“真的，阁下，您得承认这实在是太奇特了。”那惊诧不已的公证人转身对维尔福先生说道。 
“是的，”检察官说道，“我想那份遗嘱一定会更奇特的，因为依我看，这份遗嘱要是没有瓦朗蒂娜的参与，简直就无法起草，而她与遗嘱的内容又有着急切的利害关系，所以由她来解释她祖父那种模糊不清的意思，该不能算作是个合适的人选吧。” 
  
  
“不，不，不！”那瘫子老人的目光回答。 
“什么！”维尔福说道，“瓦朗蒂娜不能在你的遗嘱里得到利益吗？” 
“不。” 
“阁下，”公证人说道，这件事已引起了他极大的兴趣，他已决定要极大地扩展这个奇特的场面，“我在一小时已前还以为极不可能的事，现在已是很容易实现的。这份遗嘱，只要在七个证人面前宣读过以后，经遗言人的确认，再由公证人当着证人的面密封起来，就可以完全奏效了。至于时间，它当然要比立两份普通的遗嘱更费时一些。立遗嘱必须经过某些程序，但那些程序总是千篇一律的。至于细节，我们可以根据遗言人的事业状况来拟订，在这方面，您以前曾亲自经手过，无疑的还可以为我们提供帮助。除了这些以外，为了免得将来为手续问题再起争论，我们应当使它尽可能的准确无误，所以我当请一位同僚来帮助我。立遗嘱本来一向都不必有人协助的，但这次不妨破一次例。”公证人继续向老人说道，“您满意了吗，阁下？” 
“是的。”那老人的目光在说，他很高兴别人能懂得他的意思。 
“他要想干什么呀？”维尔福心里在想，按他的地位，他原是不能过问的，但他却极想知道他父亲的心思。他走了出去吩咐再找一个公证人来，却不知巴罗斯早已经找去了，因为他听到了公证人的那番话，并早已猜中了他主人的心思。检察官于是叫他的妻子前来。不到一刻钟，所召的人都聚集到那瘫子老人的房间里来了。第二个公证人也来到了。两位公证人只讲了几句话就互相明白了对方。他们拿出一份正式遗嘱的副本读给诺瓦蒂埃听，以便他对这类文件的一般条款有个大致的概念，然后，为了测验一个遗言人的能力，那第一位公证人就对他说道：“当一个人立遗嘱的时候，一般来说，总是有利或有损于某一个人的。” 
“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃表示。 
“您对于您财产的数目有没有一个确切的数字？” 
“有的。” 
“我向您提几个数目，然后逐渐增加。当我讲到您的财产的那个数目的时，您就止住我，好不好？” 
“好的。” 
在这一段对话期间，房间里的气氛很庄严。精神与物质之间的斗争，再也没有比现在这样更明显的了；这种情景即使不能称之为崇高，至少也够得上称为稀奇。他们在老人周围围成了一个圆圈；第二位公证人坐在一张桌子前面，准备笔录，他的同僚则站在遗言人的前面，准备问他刚才说过的那个问题。“您的财产超过了三十万法郎，是不是？”他说。诺瓦蒂埃表示的确是的。“是四十万法郎吗？”公证人问。诺瓦蒂埃的目光没动。“五十万？”仍旧没动。“六十万？七十万？八十万？九十万？”当他提到最后那个数目的时候，诺瓦蒂埃止住了他。 
“那么您有九十万法郎罗？”公证人问。 
“是的。” 
“是地产？” 
“不是。” 
“证券？” 
“是的。” 
“证券在您手里吗？” 
“诺瓦蒂埃先生向巴罗斯望了一眼，表示他需要某种东西，而那个东西他知道可以到哪儿去找。那老仆人走出了房间，立刻带着一只小箱子回来了。 
“您允许我们打开这只箱子吗？”公证人问。诺瓦蒂埃表示可以。他们打开了箱子，找到了写有九十万法郎的银行存单。第一位公证人一边逐张察看，一边递给他的同僚。总数与诺瓦蒂埃所说的完全相符。 
“他说得一点不错，”第一位公证人说道，“他的脑子看来根本没问题，这是显而易见的了。”于是他转过身去对那老人说道，“那么，您有九十万法郎的原始资金，根据您的投资方式，它应该能产生四万里弗左右的收入是吗？” 
“是的。” 
“您愿意把这笔财产给谁？” 
“噢！”维尔福夫人说道，“这事再清楚不过了。诺瓦蒂埃先生极疼爱他的孙女儿维尔福小姐，她服侍了他六年，她很孝顺地照顾他，所以她的祖父很爱她，甚至几乎可以说很感激她，现在她可以享受孝顺所带来的好处了，这原是很公平的。” 
诺瓦蒂埃眼睛里的表情清楚地表明他并没有被维尔福夫人那一篇虚情假意的话所欺骗。 
“那么，您要把这九十万法郎遗赠给瓦朗蒂娜·维尔福小姐是吗？”公证人问道，他以为这一条马上就可以填上去了，只等诺瓦蒂埃的认可了，而这必须在全体证人面前得以确认。 
瓦朗蒂娜在他们提到她的名字时早已退到了后面以逃避那些向她投来的令人不愉快的注视；她的眼睛低垂着，她在嘤嘤地哭泣。老人带着一种极亲切的表情望了她一会儿，然后他转向公证人，深意地眨眨睛，表示不对。 
“什么！”公证人说道，“您并不想立瓦朗蒂娜·维尔福小姐做您的遗产继承人是吗？” 
“是的。” 
“您没弄错吗？”公证人说道，“您的意思真的是‘不立她’吗？” 
“是的！”诺瓦蒂埃再次表示，“是的！” 
瓦朗蒂娜抬起头来，惊愕得目瞪口呆。她倒并非因得不到遗产而悲伤，而是因为她根本想不出有什么地方触怒了她的祖父，以致他竟做出这样的举动来；诺瓦蒂埃满含亲切温柔的情意望着她，她一下子明白了，大声说道：“噢，爷爷！ 
我明白了，您只是不把您的财产给我罢了，但我一向享受的爱，您还是给我的。” 
“啊，是的，那是当然的！”那老人的眼睛说，因为他闭眼睛时的那种表情瓦朗蒂娜是不会弄错的。 
“谢谢您！谢谢您！”她轻轻地说道。 
老人宣布不立瓦朗蒂娜做他的财产继承人引起了维尔福夫人的希望。她走到老人的身旁，说道：“那么，亲爱的诺瓦蒂埃先生，您无疑的是准备把您的财产留给您的孙子爱德华·维尔福的了。” 
回答她这一番话的是一阵最坚决可怕的眨眼，他所表示的那种情感几乎已近于憎恨。 
“不是，”公证人说道，“那么大概是给您儿子维尔福先生的了？” 
“不。”老人回答。 
两位公证人都惊愕得哑口无言，面面相觑。此时维尔福和他的妻子都面红耳赤，前者是由于羞，后者由于恨。 
“那么，我们大家究竟做错了什么事，亲爱的爷爷？”瓦朗蒂娜说，“您好象对我们谁都不爱啦。”老人的目光急速地从维尔福转到他的妻子，然后带着一种无恨钟爱的表情停留在瓦朗蒂娜身上。“哦，”她说道，“假如您爱我的话，爷爷，就在现在这个时候请用您的行动来证明吧。您对我很了解，您知道我从未想过您的财产，而且，他们说我继承我母亲的财产以后就已经很富有了——甚至太富有了。请您解释一下吧。” 
诺瓦蒂埃把那聪慧的目光盯住了瓦朗蒂娜的手。 
“我的手？”她说道。 
  
“是的。” 
“她的手！”每个人都大声叫道。 
“噢，诸位！你们看，这一切都是在白费心思，我父亲的脑筋实在是有问题了。”维尔福说道。 
“啊！”瓦朗蒂娜突然大声说道，“我懂啦！你的意思是指我的婚事，是吗，亲爱的爷爷？” 
“是的，是的，是的。”那老人表示，并高兴地向瓦朗蒂娜投去一个感谢的目光，感谢她猜出了他的意思。 
“您为这桩婚事生我们大家的气，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“真的，这太荒唐了。”维尔福说道。 
“原谅我，阁下，”公证人答道，“依我看，正巧相反，诺瓦蒂埃先生的意思很清楚，我可以很容易地把他脑子里的那些想法串起来。” 
“您不愿意我嫁给弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生是吗？”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“我不愿意。”她祖父的目光说。 
“所以您才不把遗产留给您的孙女儿，”公证人又说，“就是因为她结了一门违背您心愿的亲事，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
“所以要不是为了这门亲事，她本来是可以做您的继承人的是吧？” 
“是的。” 
房间里顿时雅雀无声。两位公证人凑在一起商量着，瓦朗蒂娜紧扭着双手，带着感激的微笑望着她的祖父；维尔福则烦恼地咬着嘴唇；维尔福夫人则抑制不住内心的欢喜，不自觉地现出得意神态。 
“可是，”维尔福首先打破沉寂说道，“我认为那桩婚事的好与坏，我是最好的判断者。我是唯一有权可以决定我女儿婚事的人。我想要她嫁给弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，她就一定要嫁给他！” 
瓦朗蒂娜哭着倒在了一张椅子上。 
“先生，”公证人说，“假如维尔福小姐仍然决定要嫁给弗兰兹先生，您准备如何处置您的财产呢？” 
老人不回答。 
“您肯定要用某种方式来处置它罗？” 
“是的。” 
“是传给您家里的某一个人吗？” 
“不是。” 
“那么，您是预备把它专用在慈善事业上吗？”公证人追问。 
“是的。” 
“但是，”公证人说，“您知道吗，法律是不允许一个儿子的继承权全部被剥夺的？” 
“是的。” 
“那么，您准备只送掉法律允许您转让的那部分财产吗？” 
诺瓦蒂埃没回答。 
“您仍然是希望把全部都送掉吗？” 
“是的。” 
“但在您去世以后，那份遗嘱会引起争论的。” 
“不。” 
“家父是了解我的，”维尔福说道，“他很清楚我会神圣地去实现他的希望。我是死了心的了。这九十万法郎应当脱离这个家，随便让哪家医院去发财好了，我决不愿向一个老人的怪想法让步。我当根据我的良心行事。” 
说完了这一番话，维尔福就和他的妻子走出了房间，让他的父亲称心如意地去处理他自己的事情。那份遗嘱当天就立好了，公证人把证人找来，经老人认可，当众把它封好，交给了家庭律师狄思康先生保管。 
Chapter 60 The Telegraph
 M. AND MADAME de Villefort found on their return that the Count of Monte Cristo, who had come to visit them in their absence, had been ushered into the drawing-room, and was still awaiting them there. Madame de Villefort, who had not yet sufficiently recovered from her late emotion to allow of her entertaining visitors so immediately, retired to her bedroom, while the procureur, who could better depend upon himself, proceeded at once to the salon. Although M. de Villefort flattered himself that, to all outward view, he had completely masked the feelings which were passing in his mind, he did not know that the cloud was still lowering on his brow, so much so that the count, whose smile was radiant, immediately noticed his sombre and thoughtful air. "Ma foi," said Monte Cristo, after the first compliments were over, "what is the matter with you, M. de Villefort? Have I arrived at the moment when you were drawing up an indictment for a capital crime?" Villefort tried to smile. "No, count," he replied, "I am the only victim in this case. It is I who lose my cause, and it is ill-luck, obstinacy, and folly which have caused it to be decided against me." 
"To what do you refer?" said Monte Cristo with well-feigned interest. "Have you really met with some great misfortune?" 
"Oh, no, monsieur," said Villefort with a bitter smile; "it is only a loss of money which I have sustained--nothing worth mentioning, I assure you." 
"True," said Monte Cristo, "the loss of a sum of money becomes almost immaterial with a fortune such as you possess, and to one of your philosophic spirit." 
"It is not so much the loss of the money that vexes me," said Villefort, "though, after all, 900,000 francs are worth regretting; but I am the more annoyed with this fate, chance, or whatever you please to call the power which has destroyed my hopes and my fortune, and may blast the prospects of my child also, as it is all occasioned by an old man relapsed into second childhood." 
"What do you say?" said the count; "900,000 francs? It is indeed a sum which might be regretted even by a philosopher. And who is the cause of all this annoyance?" 
"My father, as I told you." 
"M. Noirtier? But I thought you told me he had become entirely paralyzed, and that all his faculties were completely destroyed?" 
"Yes, his bodily faculties, for he can neither move nor speak, nevertheless he thinks, acts, and wills in the manner I have described. I left him about five minutes ago, and he is now occupied in dictating his will to two notaries." 
"But to do this he must have spoken?" 
"He has done better than that--he has made himself understood." 
"How was such a thing possible?" 
"By the help of his eyes, which are still full of life, and, as you perceive, possess the power of inflicting mortal injury." 
"My dear," said Madame de Villefort, who had just entered the room, "perhaps you exaggerate the evil." 
"Good-morning, madame," said the count, bowing. Madame de Villefort acknowledged the salutation with one of her most gracious smiles. "What is this that M. de Villefort has been telling me?" demanded Monte Cristo "and what incomprehensible misfortune"-- 
"Incomprehensible is not the word," interrupted the procureur, shrugging his shoulders. "It is an old man's caprice." 
"And is there no means of making him revoke his decision?" 
"Yes," said Madame de Villefort; "and it is still entirely in the power of my husband to cause the will, which is now in prejudice of Valentine, to be altered in her favor." The count, who perceived that M. and Madame de Villefort were beginning to speak in parables, appeared to pay no attention to the conversation, and feigned to be busily engaged in watching Edward, who was mischievously pouring some ink into the bird's water-glass. "My dear," said Villefort, in answer to his wife, "you know I have never been accustomed to play the patriarch in my family, nor have I ever considered that the fate of a universe was to be decided by my nod. Nevertheless, it is necessary that my will should be respected in my family, and that the folly of an old man and the caprice of a child should not be allowed to overturn a project which I have entertained for so many years. The Baron d'Epinay was my friend, as you know, and an alliance with his son is the most suitable thing that could possibly be arranged." 
"Do you think," said Madame de Villefort, "that Valentine is in league with him? She has always been opposed to this marriage, and I should not be at all surprised if what we have just seen and heard is nothing but the execution of a plan concerted between them." 
"Madame," said Villefort, "believe me, a fortune of 900,000 francs is not so easily renounced." 
"She could, nevertheless, make up her mind to renounce the world, sir, since it is only about a year ago that she herself proposed entering a convent." 
"Never mind," replied Villefort; "I say that this marriage shall be consummated." 
"Notwithstanding your father's wishes to the contrary?" said Madame de Villefort, selecting a new point of attack. "That is a serious thing." Monte Cristo, who pretended not to be listening, heard however, every word that was said. "Madame," replied Villefort "I can truly say that I have always entertained a high respect for my father, because, to the natural feeling of relationship was added the consciousness of his moral superiority. The name of father is sacred in two senses; he should be reverenced as the author of our being and as a master whom we ought to obey. But, under the present circumstances, I am justified in doubting the wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the father, vents his anger on the son. It would be ridiculous in me to regulate my conduct by such caprices. I shall still continue to preserve the same respect toward M. Noirtier; I will suffer, without complaint, the pecuniary deprivation to which he has subjected me; but I shall remain firm in my determination, and the world shall see which party his reason on his side. Consequently I shall marry my daughter to the Baron Franz d'Epinay, because I consider it would be a proper and eligible match for her to make, and, in short, because I choose to bestow my daughter's hand on whomever I please." 
"What?" said the count, the approbation of whose eye Villefort had frequently solicited during this speech. "What? Do you say that M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry M. le Baron Franz d'Epinay?" 
"Yes, sir, that is the reason," said Villefort, shrugging his shoulders. 
"The apparent reason, at least," said Madame de Villefort. 
"The real reason, madame, I can assure you; I know my father." 
"But I want to know in what way M. d'Epinay can have displeased your father more than any other person?" 
"I believe I know M. Franz d'Epinay," said the count; "is he not the son of General de Quesnel, who was created Baron d'Epinay by Charles X.?" 
"The same," said Villefort. 
"Well, but he is a charming young man, according to my ideas." 
"He is, which makes me believe that it is only an excuse of M. Noirtier to prevent his granddaughter marrying; old men are always so selfish in their affection," said Madame de Villefort. 
"But," said Monte Cristo "do you not know any cause for this hatred?" 
"Ah, ma foi! who is to know?" 
"Perhaps it is some political difference?" 
"My father and the Baron d'Epinay lived in the stormy times of which I only saw the ending," said Villefort. 
"Was not your father a Bonapartist?" asked Monte Cristo; "I think I remember that you told me something of that kind." 
"My father has been a Jacobin more than anything else," said Villefort, carried by his emotion beyond the bounds of prudence; "and the senator's robe, which Napoleon cast on his shoulders, only served to disguise the old man without in any degree changing him. When my father conspired, it was not for the emperor, it was against the Bourbons; for M. Noirtier possessed this peculiarity, he never projected any Utopian schemes which could never be realized, but strove for possibilities, and he applied to the realization of these possibilities the terrible theories of The Mountain,--theories that never shrank from any means that were deemed necessary to bring about the desired result." 
"Well," said Monte Cristo, "it is just as I thought; it was politics which brought Noirtier and M. d'Epinay into personal contact. Although General d'Epinay served under Napoleon, did he not still retain royalist sentiments? And was he not the person who was assassinated one evening on leaving a Bonapartist meeting to which he had been invited on the supposition that he favored the cause of the emperor?" Villefort looked at the count almost with terror. "Am I mistaken, then?" said Monte Cristo. 
"No, sir, the facts were precisely what you have stated," said Madame de Villefort; "and it was to prevent the renewal of old feuds that M. de Villefort formed the idea of uniting in the bonds of affection the two children of these inveterate enemies." 
"It was a sublime and charitable thought," said Monte Cristo, "and the whole world should applaud it. It would be noble to see Mademoiselle Noirtier de Villefort assuming the title of Madame Franz d'Epinay." Villefort shuddered and looked at Monte Cristo as if he wished to read in his countenance the real feelings which had dictated the words he had just uttered. But the count completely baffled the procureur, and prevented him from discovering anything beneath the never-varying smile he was so constantly in the habit of assuming. "Although," said Villefort, "it will be a serious thing for Valentine to lose her grandfather's fortune, I do not think that M. d'Epinay will be frightened at this pecuniary loss. He will, perhaps, hold me in greater esteem than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice everything in order to keep my word with him. Besides, he knows that Valentine is rich in right of her mother, and that she will, in all probability, inherit the fortune of M. and Madame de Saint-Méran, her mother's parents, who both love her tenderly." 
"And who are fully as well worth loving and tending as M. Noirtier," said Madame de Villefort; "besides, they are to come to Paris in about a month, and Valentine, after the affront she has received, need not consider it necessary to continue to bury herself alive by being shut up with M. Noirtier." The count listened with satisfaction to this tale of wounded self-love and defeated ambition. "But it seems to me," said Monte Cristo, "and I must begin by asking your pardon for what I am about to say, that if M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry a man whose father he detested, he cannot have the same cause of complaint against this dear Edward." 
"True," said Madame de Villefort, with an intonation of voice which it is impossible to describe; "is it not unjust--shamefully unjust? Poor Edward is as much M. Noirtier's grandchild as Valentine, and yet, if she had not been going to marry M. Franz, M. Noirtier would have left her all his money; and supposing Valentine to be disinherited by her grandfather, she will still be three times richer than he." The count listened and said no more. "Count," said Villefort, "we will not entertain you any longer with our family misfortunes. It is true that my patrimony will go to endow charitable institutions, and my father will have deprived me of my lawful inheritance without any reason for doing so, but I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have acted like a man of sense and feeling. M. d'Epinay, to whom I had promised the interest of this sum, shall receive it, even if I endure the most cruel privations." 
"However," said Madame de Villefort, returning to the one idea which incessantly occupied her mind, "perhaps it would be better to explain this unlucky affair to M. d'Epinay, in order to give him the opportunity of himself renouncing his claim to the hand of Mademoiselle de Villefort." 
"Ah, that would be a great pity," said Villefort. 
"A great pity," said Monte Cristo. 
"Undoubtedly," said Villefort, moderating the tones of his voice, "a marriage once concerted and then broken off, throws a sort of discredit on a young lady; then again, the old reports, which I was so anxious to put an end to, will instantly gain ground. No, it will all go well; M. d'Epinay, if he is an honorable man, will consider himself more than ever pledged to Mademoiselle de Villefort, unless he were actuated by a decided feeling of avarice, but that is impossible." 
"I agree with M. de Villefort," said Monte Cristo, fixing his eyes on Madame de Villefort; "and if I were sufficiently intimate with him to allow of giving my advice, I would persuade him, since I have been told M. d'Epinay is coming back, to settle this affair at once beyond all possibility of revocation. I will answer for the success of a project which will reflect so much honor on M. de Villefort." The procureur arose, delighted with the proposition, but his wife slightly changed color. "Well, that is all that I wanted, and I will be guided by a counsellor such as you are," said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo. "Therefore let every one here look upon what has passed to-day as if it had not happened, and as though we had never thought of such a thing as a change in our original plans." 
"Sir," said the count, "the world, unjust as it is, will be pleased with your resolution; your friends will be proud of you, and M. d'Epinay, even if he took Mademoiselle de Villefort without any dowry, which he will not do, would be delighted with the idea of entering a family which could make such sacrifices in order to keep a promise and fulfil a duty." At the conclusion of these words, the count rose to depart. "Are you going to leave us, count?" said Madame de Villefort. 
"I am sorry to say I must do so, madame, I only came to remind you of your promise for Saturday." 
"Did you fear that we should forget it?" 
"You are very good, madame, but M. de Villefort has so many important and urgent occupations." 
"My husband has given me his word, sir," said Madame de Villefort; "you have just seen him resolve to keep it when he has everything to lose, and surely there is more reason for his doing so where he has everything to gain." "And," said Villefort, "is it at your house in the Champs-Elysées that you receive your visitors?" 
"No," said Monte Cristo, "which is precisely the reason which renders your kindness more meritorious,--it is in the country." 
"In the country?" 
"Yes." 
"Where is it, then? Near Paris, is it not?" 
"Very near, only half a league from the Barriers,--it is at Auteuil." 
"At Auteuil?" said Villefort; "true, Madame de Villefort told me you lived at Auteuil, since it was to your house that she was taken. And in what part of Auteuil do you reside?" 
"Rue de la Fontaine." 
"Rue de la Fontaine!" exclaimed Villefort in an agitated tone; "at what number?" 
"No. 28." 
"Then," cried Villefort, "was it you who bought M. de Saint-Méran's house!" 
"Did it belong to M. de Saint-Méran?" demanded Monte Cristo. 
"Yes," replied Madame de Villefort; "and, would you believe it, count"-- 
"Believe what?" 
"You think this house pretty, do you not?" 
"I think it charming." 
"Well, my husband would never live in it." 
"Indeed?" returned Monte Cristo, "that is a prejudice on your part, M. de Villefort, for which I am quite at a loss to account." 
"I do not like Auteuil, sir," said the procureur, making an evident effort to appear calm. "But I hope you will not carry your antipathy so far as to deprive me of the pleasure of your company, sir," said Monte Cristo. 
"No, count,--I hope--I assure you I shall do my best," stammered Villefort. 
"Oh," said Monte Cristo, "I allow of no excuse. On Saturday, at six o'clock. I shall be expecting you, and if you fail to come, I shall think--for how do I know to the contrary?--that this house, which his remained uninhabited for twenty years, must have some gloomy tradition or dreadful legend connected with it." 
"I will come, count,--I will be sure to come," said Villefort eagerly. 
"Thank you," said Monte Cristo; "now you must permit me to take my leave of you." 
"You said before that you were obliged to leave us, monsieur," said Madame de Villefort, "and you were about to tell us why when your attention was called to some other subject." 
"Indeed madame," said Monte Cristo: "I scarcely know if I dare tell you where I am going." 
"Nonsense; say on." 
"Well, then, it is to see a thing on which I have sometimes mused for hours together." 
"What is it?" 
"A telegraph. So now I have told my secret." 
"A telegraph?" repeated Madame de Villefort. 
"Yes, a telegraph. I had often seen one placed at the end of a road on a hillock, and in the light of the sun its black arms, bending in every direction, always reminded me of the claws of an immense beetle, and I assure you it was never without emotion that I gazed on it, for I could not help thinking how wonderful it was that these various signs should be made to cleave the air with such precision as to convey to the distance of three hundred leagues the ideas and wishes of a man sitting at a table at one end of the line to another man similarly placed at the opposite extremity, and all this effected by a simple act of volition on the part of the sender of the message. I began to think of genii, sylphs, gnomes, in short, of all the ministers of the occult sciences, until I laughed aloud at the freaks of my own imagination. Now, it never occurred to me to wish for a nearer inspection of these large insects, with their long black claws, for I always feared to find under their stone wings some little human genius fagged to death with cabals, factions, and government intrigues. But one fine day I learned that the mover of this telegraph was only a poor wretch, hired for twelve hundred francs a year, and employed all day, not in studying the heavens like an astronomer, or in gazing on the water like an angler, or even in enjoying the privilege of observing the country around him, but all his monotonous life was passed in watching his white-bellied, black-clawed fellow insect, four or five leagues distant from him. At length I felt a desire to study this living chrysalis more closely, and to endeavor to understand the secret part played by these insect-actors when they occupy themselves simply with pulling different pieces of string." 
"And are you going there?" 
"I am." 
"What telegraph do you intend visiting? that of the home department, or of the observatory?" 
"Oh, no; I should find there people who would force me to understand things of which I would prefer to remain ignorant, and who would try to explain to me, in spite of myself, a mystery which even they do not understand. Ma foi, I should wish to keep my illusions concerning insects unimpaired; it is quite enough to have those dissipated which I had formed of my fellow-creatures. I shall, therefore, not visit either of these telegraphs, but one in the open country where I shall find a good-natured simpleton, who knows no more than the machine he is employed to work." 
"You are a singular man," said Villefort. 
"What line would you advise me to study?" 
"The one that is most in use just at this time." 
"The Spanish one, you mean, I suppose?" 
"Yes; should you like a letter to the minister that they might explain to you"-- 
"No," said Monte Cristo; "since, as I told you before, I do not wish to comprehend it. The moment I understand it there will no longer exist a telegraph for me; it will he nothing more than a sign from M. Duchatel, or from M. Montalivet, transmitted to the prefect of Bayonne, mystified by two Greek words, tele, graphein. It is the insect with black claws, and the awful word which I wish to retain in my imagination in all its purity and all its importance." 
"Go then; for in the course of two hours it will be dark, and you will not be able to see anything." 
"Ma foi! you frighten me. Which is the nearest way? Bayonne?" 
"Yes; the road to Bayonne." 
"And afterwards the road to Chatillon?" 
"Yes." 
"By the tower of Montlhéry, you mean?" 
"Yes." 
"Thank you. Good-by. On Saturday I will tell you my impressions concerning the telegraph." At the door the count was met by the two notaries, who had just completed the act which was to disinherit Valentine, and who were leaving under the conviction of having done a thing which could not fail of redounding considerably to their credit.  
维尔福先生夫妇回去后，知道基督山伯爵已在客厅里等候他们了。伯爵来访的时候，他们正在诺瓦蒂埃的房间里，仆人就领他到客厅等候。维尔福夫人很兴奋，不便马上见客，所以就回她的卧室休息去了，检察官比较能自制，所以立刻就到客厅里去了。但不管他抑制感情的功夫多么老练，不管他是如何想竭力控制他脸部的表情，他额头上仍布满了阴云，所以当伯爵笑容可掬地向他迎上来的时候，看到他如此阴沉和若有所思的样子，不禁大吃一惊。 
“啊哟！”基督山在一番寒暄过后说道，“您怎么啦，维尔福先生？我来的那个时候，您正在那儿起草极重要的公诉书吗？” 
维尔福竭力地装出一个微笑。“不，伯爵阁下，”他答道，“在此案中，我是唯一的牺牲者。我被打败了，而攻击我的是恶运、固执和愚蠢。” 
“您指的是什么事呀？”基督山以一种装得很巧妙的关切的口吻说道。“您真的遭遇到什么很大的不幸吗？” 
“噢，伯爵阁下，”维尔福苦笑着说，“我只不过损失了一笔钱而已——不值一提的事。” 
“不错，”基督山说，“象您这样家境富裕，明智博达的人，损失一点钱是无关痛痒的。” 
“使我烦恼的倒不全是因为金钱的损失，”维尔福说，“尽管，说起来，九十万法郎倒也是很值得遗憾一下的，但我更恼恨的是这种命运、机遇，或不论你怎样称之为的那种力量，它破坏了我的希望和我的财产，而且也许还会摧毁我孩子的前途，而这一切都是由一个陷入第二次儿童时期的老人所造成的。” 
“您说什么！”伯爵说，“九十万法郎？这个数目的确是值得令人遗憾的，即使对一位哲学家来说。这件令人不愉快的事是谁造成的？” 
“家父，我已经跟您谈起过他了。” 
“诺瓦蒂埃先生！我好象记得您告诉我说，他已经全身瘫痪，已全身都不能动了？” 
“是的，他的确是已全身不能动，也不能说话，但是，您知道，他还有思想和意志。我刚离开他不到五分钟，他现在正忙着在两位公证人面前立他的遗嘱呢。” 
“要做到这一点，他不是一定得说话吗？” 
“他有更好的办法——他可以使人家懂得他的意思。” 
“那怎么可能呢？” 
“用他的那双眼睛。您也看得出，那双眼睛还是很有生气的，甚至仍有足以致人死地力量。” 
“亲爱的，”维尔福夫人这时刚刚走进来，就说，“也许你把灾祸太夸大了吧。” 
“早上好，夫人！”伯爵鞠躬说道。 
维尔福夫人以最殷勤的微笑接受了他的敬意。 
“维尔福先生所说的究竟是怎么回事呀！”基督山问道，“那种不可思议的不幸——” 
“不可思议这几个字说得太对了！”检查官耸耸肩插进来说，“那纯粹是一个老头子的怪念头。” 
“难道没有办法能使他取消他的决定吗？” 
“有的，”维尔福夫人说，“这件事仍完全掌握在我丈夫的手里，那份遗嘱现在对瓦朗蒂娜是不利的，但他有力量可以使其对她有利。” 
伯爵觉察到维尔福夫妇已开始在转弯抹角的说话了，就显示出一副对他们的谈话并不注意的样子，假装在看爱德华，而爱德华此时正在恶作剧地把一些墨水倒进鸟的水盂里。 
“亲爱的，”维尔福对他妻子说道，“你知道，我一向不习惯在家里玩弄家长特权，我也从不认为天命可以由我点一点头就能决定了的。可是，在我的家里，我的意愿必须受到尊重，我酝酿了这么多年的一个计划，不应该毁在一个老人的愚蠢和一个孩子的怪念头里。你也知道，伊皮奈男爵是我的朋友，我们跟他的儿子联婚是再合适不过的了。” 
“你说瓦朗蒂娜是不是和他串通的？”维尔福夫人说，“她一直不同意这门亲事。假如我们刚才所见到的那一切只是他们在实现一项早就商量好了的计划，那我一点都不觉得奇怪。” 
“夫人，”维尔福说，“相信我好了，一笔九十万法郎的财产可不是就这样轻易地被放弃的。” 
“可她甚至连放弃世界都舍得呀，一年前，她不是自己提出要进修道院的吗？” 
“不管怎样，”维尔说，“一定要促成这门亲事，我主意已定。” 
“不顾你父亲的反对吗？”维尔福夫人挑选了一个新的进攻点，说道，“那是后果很严重的事呀！” 
基督山假装并没在听他们的谈话，但实际上却字字都听进了耳朵里。 
“夫人，”维尔福回答，“说句老实话，我一向很尊重我的父亲，一方面是出于天性，一方面是敬重他高尚的道德。父亲这一名义在两种意义上是神圣的，即他赋予了我们以生命，但同时又是我们应该服从的主人，因此应该受到尊重。但现在，由于他恨那个父亲，竟迁怒到了儿子身上，在这种状况下，我有充分的理由怀疑老人的智力，如果我按照他的怪念头去行事，那就未免太可笑了。我当依旧敬重诺瓦蒂埃先生。他虽使我遭受了金钱上的损失，但我当毫无怨言地忍受，可我一定要坚持我的决定，社会上将来总会明了事非的。所以我要把女儿嫁给弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵，因为我认为这门亲事对她很合适，总之，是因为我高兴把女儿赐给谁就可以赐给谁。” 
“什么！”伯爵说道。在讲这番话的过程中，维尔福常常把目光投向他，以求得他的赞许。“什么！您说诺瓦蒂埃先生不立维尔福小姐做他的继承人，就是因为她要嫁给弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵吗？” 
“是的，阁下，就是为这个原因。”维尔福耸耸肩说道。 
“至少表面上是这个原因。”维尔福夫人说。 
“是真正的原因，夫人，我可以向你保证，我了解我父亲的为人。” 
“这就不可思议了，”那年轻的夫人说。“但我倒很想知道，伊皮奈先生有什么不好，竟会使你父亲讨厌他？” 
“我想我认识弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵先生，”伯爵说，“他不是由查理王十世封为伊皮奈男爵的奎斯奈尔将军的儿子吗？” 
“就是他。”维尔福说道。 
“哦，依我看，他倒是一个很可爱的青年呀。” 
“本来就是嘛，所以我相信诺瓦蒂埃先生只是想找个借口来阻止他孙女儿结婚罢了。老年人对于他们自己所喜爱的事物，总很自私的。” 
“但是，”基督山说，“您是否知道这种憎恨是从何而来的吗？” 
“啊，真是！谁知道呢？” 
“也许那是某种政治上的分歧造成的吧？” 
“家父和伊皮奈男爵都是大风暴时代的人物，但我对于那个时代只见识了最后几天。”维尔福说道。 
“令尊不是一个拿破仑党吗？”基督山问，“我好象记得您这样对我说过。” 
“家父是个十足的雅各宾派，”维尔福说，他的情绪不自觉地脱离了审慎含蓄的范围。“拿破仑曾在他身上披上了一件上议院议员的长袍，但那只不过改变了他老人家的外表而已，他的内心丝毫没变。当家父蓄谋某个计划的时候，他倒不是在为皇帝着想，而是为了要打击波旁王朝。因为诺瓦蒂埃先生有这么一种特点——他从来不作任何无法实现的乌托邦式的计划，而总是力争其可能性，他依据山岳党那种可怕的原则来使那些可能的事得以实现，山岳党做起事来是从不畏缩的。” 
“嗯，”基督山说，“我也有同感，诺瓦蒂埃和伊皮奈先生的个人恩怨是出于政治原因。伊皮奈将军虽曾在拿破仑手下干过，但他不是仍保存着保皇党人的思想吗？尽管大家认为他是忠于皇帝的，但他不是有一天晚上在离开拿破仑党分子集会的时候被人暗杀了吗？” 
“维尔福带着一种近乎恐怖的表情望着伯爵。 
“怎么，是我弄错了吗？”基督山问。 
“不，阁下，事实正如您所说的，”维尔福夫人说道，“维尔福先生正是为了防止死灰复燃，才想到要用爱的纽带把这两个冤家对头的孩子联合在一起的。” 
“这真是个崇高仁慈的念头，”基督山说，“全世界的人都应该赞美这种思想。瓦朗蒂娜·维尔福小姐成为弗兰兹·伊皮奈夫人实在是一件可喜的事情。” 
维尔福打了一个寒颤。他望着基督山，象是要从他脸上读懂他刚才那番话的真实含意似的。但伯爵完全击败了检察官那种具有穿透力的目光，不让对方在他习惯性的微笑底下发现任何东西。 
“瓦朗蒂娜失去了她祖父的遗产，虽然这事严重，”维尔福说，“但我并不认为那桩婚事会因此而受挫。我不相信伊皮奈先生会计较这点金钱上的损失。那笔钱是牺牲了，可我将克守自己的诺言，他将来就会知道，我这个人也许比那笔钱更有价值一些。而且，他知道瓦朗蒂娜有了她母亲留下的那份财产本来已很富有了。她的外祖父母圣·梅朗先生和夫人又很钟爱她，他们的财产将来十拿九稳地也是由她来继承的。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜这样爱护诺瓦蒂埃先生，其实她的外祖父母倒也应该值得这样爱护，”维尔福夫人说，“他们一个月之内就要到巴黎来了。瓦朗蒂娜在经过了这番羞辱之后，实在犯不上再继续把她自己当半个死人似的和诺瓦蒂埃先生捆在一起了。” 
伯爵听了这番自私心受伤和野心失败的话，感到很满意。 
“可依我看，”他说——“在讲下面这几句话以前，我必须先请求您的原谅——假如诺瓦蒂埃先生是因为瓦朗蒂娜小姐要嫁给一个他所厌恶的人的儿子而取消了她的继承权的话，那么他不该以同样的理由怪罪那可爱的爱德华吧。” 
“对呀，”维尔福夫人用一种无法形容的音调说道，“这难道不是很不公正——可耻地不公正吗？可怜的爱德华也象瓦朗蒂娜一样是诺瓦蒂埃先生的孙子，可是假如她不嫁给弗兰兹先生，诺瓦蒂埃先生就会把他的钱全都留给她，再说，尽管爱德华是这一家族传宗接代的人，可是瓦朗蒂娜即使得不到她祖父的遗产，她还是比他富有三倍。” 
这一下突击成功了，伯爵听了，没再多说什么。 
“伯爵阁下，”维尔福说，“以我们家庭的不幸来这样款待您实在太不应该了。不错，我家的财产要送给慈善机关了，家父要毫无理由地剥夺我的法定继承权。但我依然很满意，因为我知道，我的行为是合情合理的。我以前曾答应过伊皮奈先生可以从这笔钱获取利息，我仍然要兑现这句话，哪怕我因此而把自己弄得穷困到了极点。” 
“但是，”维尔福夫人又把话头拉回到她脑子里不断转着的一个念头上来了，“我们可以把这不幸的事告诉伊皮奈先生，给他一个机会，让他自动解除他和维尔福小姐的婚约，那也许会更好一些的。” 
“啊，那样可就太糟了！”维尔福说。 
“太糟了！”基督山说。 
“当然喽，”维尔福说，语气缓和了下来。“一桩婚事，谈妥以后再破裂，对女方的名誉总是不利的。而且，我本很希望消除先前的那些的谣言，这样一来，它就立刻又会活跃起来的。不，不行。假如伊皮奈先生是一个光明磊落的男人，他想得到维尔福小姐的心只能比以前更坚决——除非他被欲望所左右，但那是不可能的。” 
“我同意维尔福先生的看法，”基督山目光盯住维尔福夫人说道，“假如交情上讲我有资格给他忠告的话，我会劝他把这件事立刻办妥的，使它绝无反悔的余地，因为我听说伊皮奈先生就要回来了。我敢保证，假如这件事成功了，维尔福先生的名誉一定会大振的。” 
检察官站起身来，很高兴听到这个建议，可他的妻子却微微有点变色。“嗯，我正是这样想的，我一定接受象您这样的一位顾问的指导，”他伸手给基督山说道。“所以对于今天所发生的这事我们只当它没有发生过好了。我们的原先的计划不变。” 
“阁下，”伯爵说道，“这个世界虽不公平，但对您如此意志坚决一定会很高兴的。您的朋友将为您感到骄傲的。而伊皮奈先生，即使维尔福小姐嫁过去的时候一点嫁妆都没有——当然不会是那样的——他也会很高兴的，因为他知道从此进入了一个能不惜牺牲信守诺言的家庭。”说完这几句话，伯爵就站起身来，准备告辞了。 
“您要走了吗，伯爵阁下？”维尔福夫人问。 
“很抱歉，我必须得走了，夫人，我此来的目的只是为要提醒你们星期六的那个约会。” 
“您怕我们会忘了是吗？” 
“您太好了，夫人，可维尔福先生常常有这么多紧急的事要办。” 
“我丈夫已经答应过了，阁下，”维尔福夫人说。“您知道，凡是他说过的话，即使在百失而无一得的时候，也从不肯失信的。况且现在他是百得而无一失，那当然会更坚守诺言了。” 
“您是在香榭丽舍大道的府上请客吗？” 
“不，”基督山说道，“所以您更得赏脸才行，因为是在乡下请客。” 
“在乡下？” 
“是的。” 
“在哪儿？离巴黎很近吗？” 
“非常近，出城只一哩半路——在欧特伊。” 
“在欧特伊？”维尔福说道。“不错，夫人曾告诉过我您住在欧特伊，因为她就是在府上的门前得救的。您住在欧特伊的哪个地方？” 
“芳丹街。” 
“芳丹街？”维尔福呼吸有点急促地大声说道，“几号门牌？” 
“二十八号。” 
“呀！”维尔福大声说道，“那么说，圣·梅朗先生的房子就是您买下的了？” 
“它原属于圣·梅朗先生吗？”基督山问道。 
“是的，”维尔福夫人答道，“您信不信，伯爵阁下——” 
“信什么？” 
“您觉得那所房子很迷人，是不是？” 
“我觉得它很可爱。” 
“嗯，我丈夫却从不愿意到那里去住。” 
“真的！”基督山答道，“那就是您的偏见了，阁下，那对我可是不利的。” 
“我不喜欢欧特伊那个地方，阁下。”检察官竭力控制住他自己说道。 
“我希望您的成见不至于影响到我和您聚会吧，阁下。”基督山说道。 
“不，伯爵阁下，我希望，我向您保证，我会尽力想法去的。”维尔福结结巴巴地说道。 
“噢，”基督山说道，“我不是听任何借口的。星期六，六点钟，我等着您，假如您不来，我就会以为，唉，我怎么能这样想呢？我会认为这座二十年没人住的房子一定曾有过某种阴森可怕的传说。” 
“我会来的，伯爵阁下，我一定来！”维尔福急忙说道。 
“谢谢您，”基督山说道，“现在勿请你们谅解，我要告辞了。” 
“啊，对了，伯爵阁下，”维尔福夫人说，“您刚才说非走不可，我想，您大概会告诉我们是什么原因吧，只是后来讲到了别的事，才把您的话打断了。” 
“老实说，夫人，”基督山说道，”我自己也弄不清我究竟敢不敢把我要去的那个地方告诉您。” 
“哧！告诉我吧，没什么关系的。” 
“哦，那么，我要去——我本来是一个游手好闲的人——看一件有时候我会对它沉思默想几个钟头的东西。” 
“是什么东西？” 
“一所急报站。现在我已经泄露这个秘密啦。” 
“一所急报站！”维尔福夫人重复道。 
“是的，一所急报站！我常常在小丘顶上看到它。在阳光下，它那黑色的手臂伸向四面八方，总使人联想到那是一只甲虫的脚爪。实话告诉你们，我每次注视它的时候，总不免要有很多感触，因为我总在心里想：在急报线的一端，有一个人坐在一张桌子前面，他靠一种万能的意志力，使那些古怪的信号划破长空，把他的意思传达到九百哩外坐在另张桌子前面的人。我幻想着在那由灰色的云或蓝色的天空所衬扎的背景上，可以看得到那些破空前进的怪信号。于是我又联想到天神、地灵、鬼仙——总之，想到了种种玄妙神秘的力量——直到我自己对这种胡思乱想的念头也放声大笑起来。我从不想去对这些有黑色长脚爪的大昆虫作较近的观察，因为我老是害怕会在它那石头翅膀底下碰到一个极其严肃、极其迂阔、脑子里装满了科学、玄奥和魔法，充当守护神的小人。可是有一天，有人对我说，每一所急报站里的工作人员都是一个年俸仅一千二百法郎的可怜虫，他成天地，不象天文学家那种研究天象，也不象渔翁那样凝视水波，甚至连观望四周田野的权利都没有，而只是注视着离他十四五哩远的另一个人。所以我就产生了好奇心，想去仔细看看这种活着的蛹，去观察一下它是怎样从它的茧壳底下扯动这一条丝或那一条丝来和其他的蛹联络。” 
“所以您要到那儿去一次？” 
“是的。” 
“您要去参观哪一个急报站，是内政部的，还是天文台的？” 
“噢，不！我对这事倒情愿不知道的好，要是到那儿去，就会有人强迫我来了解它，把他们自己都不了解的东西勉强解释给我听。不，真的！我希望完整地保存我那个有关昆虫的幻想。我只要去见一见那些一知半解、跟我自己差不多的人就行了。所以我不去参观内政部或天文台的急报站。我所要找的，是旷野上的一个站房，在那儿我可以找到一个蛰伏在他的窝的老实人。” 
“您真是一位奇人。”维尔福说道。 
“您觉得我去研究哪一条线好呢？” 
“现在最忙碌的那一条线吧。” 
“您是指西班牙线吗？” 
“是的，您要不要弄一封给部长的介绍信，让他们解释给您听？” 
“不必了，”基督山说道，“因为，我刚才已经告诉过您了，我并不想了解它。一旦我了解了它，我印象中急报这两个字就不复存在了，它将只是一种自甲地到乙地的秘密信号通信法而已，可我却很想保全我对那只黑脚爪大蜘蛛的全部崇敬。” 
“那么，去吧，因为两小时以内，天就要黑了，您就什么都看不到了。” 
“糟糕！您说得我着急起来啦！哪一个站房最近？” 
“到巴荣纳去的那条路上的那个吗？” 
“是的，是到巴荣纳去的那条路上的那个。” 
“夏蒂荣的那一站最近。” 
“再过去夏蒂荣的那一站呢？” 
“我想就是蒙得雷塔的了。” 
“谢谢您。再会。星期六我会把我的观察告诉你们的。” 
伯爵在门口遇到了那两位公证人，他们刚刚完成那件剥夺瓦朗蒂娜继承权的工作，自以为已经干成了一件一定可以提高他们声望的大事。 
Chapter 61 How a Gardener may get rid of the Dormice that eat His Peaches
 NOT ON the same night, as he had intended, but the next morning, the Count of Monte Cristo went out by the Barrier d'Enfer, taking the road to Orleans. Leaving the village of Linas, without stopping at the telegraph, which flourished its great bony arms as he passed, the count reached the tower of Montlhéry, situated, as every one knows, upon the highest point of the plain of that name. At the foot of the hill the count dismounted and began to ascend by a little winding path, about eighteen inches wide; when he reached the summit he found himself stopped by a hedge, upon which green fruit had succeeded to red and white flowers. 
Monte Cristo looked for the entrance to the enclosure, and was not long in finding a little wooden gate, working on willow hinges, and fastened with a nail and string. The count soon mastered the mechanism, the gate opened, and he then found himself in a little garden, about twenty feet long by twelve wide, bounded on one side by part of the hedge, which contained the ingenious contrivance we have called a gate, and on the other by the old tower, covered with ivy and studded with wall-flowers. No one would have thought in looking at this old, weather-beaten, floral-decked tower (which might be likened to an elderly dame dressed up to receive her grandchildren at a birthday feast) that it would have been capable of telling strange things, if,--in addition to the menacing ears which the proverb says all walls are provided with,--it had also a voice. The garden was crossed by a path of red gravel, edged by a border of thick box, of many years' growth, and of a tone and color that would have delighted the heart of Delacroix, our modern Rubens. This path was formed in the shape of the figure of 8, thus, in its windings, making a walk of sixty feet in a garden of only twenty. 
Never had Flora, the fresh and smiling goddess of gardeners, been honored with a purer or more scrupulous worship than that which was paid to her in this little enclosure. In fact, of the twenty rose-trees which formed the parterre, not one bore the mark of the slug, nor were there evidences anywhere of the clustering aphis which is so destructive to plants growing in a damp soil. And yet it was not because the damp had been excluded from the garden; the earth, black as soot, the thick foliage of the trees betrayed its presence; besides, had natural humidity been wanting, it could have been immediately supplied by artificial means, thanks to a tank of water, sunk in one of the corners of the garden, and upon which were stationed a frog and a toad, who, from antipathy, no doubt, always remained on the two opposite sides of the basin. There was not a blade of grass to be seen in the paths, or a weed in the flower-beds; no fine lady ever trained and watered her geraniums, her cacti, and her rhododendrons, with more pains than this hitherto unseen gardener bestowed upon his little enclosure. Monte Cristo stopped after having closed the gate and fastened the string to the nail, and cast a look around. 
"The man at the telegraph," said he, "must either engage a gardener or devote himself passionately to agriculture." Suddenly he struck against something crouching behind a wheelbarrow filled with leaves; the something rose, uttering an exclamation of astonishment, and Monte Cristo found himself facing a man about fifty years old, who was plucking strawberries, which he was placing upon grape leaves. He had twelve leaves and about as many strawberries, which, on rising suddenly, he let fall from his hand. "You are gathering your crop, sir?" said Monte Cristo, smiling. 
"Excuse me, sir," replied the man, raising his hand to his cap; "I am not up there, I know, but I have only just come down." 
"Do not let me interfere with you in anything, my friend," said the count; "gather your strawberries, if, indeed, there are any left." 
"I have ten left," said the man, "for here are eleven, and I had twenty-one, five more than last year. But I am not surprised; the spring has been warm this year, and strawberries require heat, sir. This is the reason that, instead of the sixteen I had last year, I have this year, you see, eleven, already plucked--twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. Ah, I miss three, they were here last night, sir--I am sure they were here--I counted them. It must be the Mère Simon's son who has stolen them; I saw him strolling about here this morning. Ah, the young rascal--stealing in a garden--he does not know where that may lead him to." 
"Certainly, it is wrong," said Monte Cristo, "but you should take into consideration the youth and greediness of the delinquent." 
"Of course," said the gardener, "but that does not make it the less unpleasant. But, sir, once more I beg pardon; perhaps you are an officer that I am detaining here." And he glanced timidly at the count's blue coat. 
"Calm yourself, my friend," said the count, with the smile which he made at will either terrible or benevolent, and which now expressed only the kindliest feeling; "I am not an inspector, but a traveller, brought here by a curiosity he half repents of, since he causes you to lose your time." 
"Ah, my time is not valuable," replied the man with a melancholy smile. "Still it belongs to government, and I ought not to waste it; but, having received the signal that I might rest for an hour" (here he glanced at the sun-dial, for there was everything in the enclosure of Montlhéry, even a sun-dial), "and having ten minutes before me, and my strawberries being ripe, when a day longer--by-the-by, sir, do you think dormice eat them?" 
"Indeed, I should think not," replied Monte Cristo; "dormice are bad neighbors for us who do not eat them preserved, as the Romans did." 
"What? Did the Romans eat them?" said the gardener--"ate dormice?" 
"I have read so in Petronius," said the count. 
"Really? They can't be nice, though they do say 'as fat as a dormouse.' It is not a wonder they are fat, sleeping all day, and only waking to eat all night. Listen. Last year I had four apricots--they stole one, I had one nectarine, only one--well, sir, they ate half of it on the wall; a splendid nectarine--I never ate a better." 
"You ate it?" 
"That is to say, the half that was left--you understand; it was exquisite, sir. Ah, those gentlemen never choose the worst morsels; like Mere Simon's son, who has not chosen the worst strawberries. But this year," continued the horticulturist, "I'll take care it shall not happen, even if I should be forced to sit by the whole night to watch when the strawberries are ripe." Monte Cristo had seen enough. Every man has a devouring passion in his heart, as every fruit has its worm; that of the telegraph man was horticulture. He began gathering the grape-leaves which screened the sun from the grapes, and won the heart of the gardener. "Did you come here, sir, to see the telegraph?" he said. 
"Yes, if it isn't contrary to the rules." 
"Oh, no," said the gardener; "not in the least, since there is no danger that anyone can possibly understand what we are saying." 
"I have been told," said the count, "that you do not always yourselves understand the signals you repeat." 
"That is true, sir, and that is what I like best," said the man, smiling. 
"Why do you like that best?" 
"Because then I have no responsibility. I am a machine then, and nothing else, and so long as I work, nothing more is required of me." 
"Is it possible," said Monte Cristo to himself, "that I can have met with a man that has no ambition? That would spoil my plans." 
"Sir," said the gardener, glancing at the sun-dial, "the ten minutes are almost up; I must return to my post. Will you go up with me?" 
"I follow you." Monte Cristo entered the tower, which was divided into three stories. The tower contained implements, such as spades, rakes, watering-pots, hung against the wall; this was all the furniture. The second was the man's conventional abode, or rather sleeping-place; it contained a few poor articles of household furniture--a bed, a table, two chairs, a stone pitcher--and some dry herbs, hung up to the ceiling, which the count recognized as sweet pease, and of which the good man was preserving the seeds; he had labelled them with as much care as if he had been master botanist in the Jardin des Plantes. 
"Does it require much study to learn the art of telegraphing?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"The study does not take long; it was acting as a supernumerary that was so tedious." 
"And what is the pay?" 
"A thousand francs, sir." 
"It is nothing." 
"No; but then we are lodged, as you perceive." 
Monte Cristo looked at the room. They passed to the third story; it was the telegraph room. Monte Cristo looked in turn at the two iron handles by which the machine was worked. "It is very interesting," he said, "but it must be very tedious for a lifetime." 
"Yes. At first my neck was cramped with looking at it, but at the end of a year I became used to it; and then we have our hours of recreation, and our holidays." 
"Holidays?" 
"Yes." 
"When?" 
"When we have a fog." 
"Ah, to be sure." 
"Those are indeed holidays to me; I go into the garden, I plant, I prune, I trim, I kill the insects all day long." 
"How long have you been here?" 
"Ten years, and five as a supernumerary make fifteen." 
"You are--" 
"Fifty-five years old." 
"How long must you have served to claim the pension?" 
"Oh, sir, twenty-five years." 
"And how much is the pension?" 
"A hundred crowns." 
"Poor humanity!" murmured Monte Cristo. 
"What did you say, sir?" asked the man. 
"I was saying it was very interesting." 
"What was?" 
"All you were showing me. And you really understand none of these signals?" 
"None at all." 
"And have you never tried to understand them?" 
"Never. Why should I?" 
"But still there are some signals only addressed to you." 
"Certainly." 
"And do you understand them?" 
"They are always the same." 
"And they mean--" 
"Nothing new; You have an hour; or To-morrow." 
"This is simple enough," said the count; "but look, is not your correspondent putting itself in motion?" 
"Ah, yes; thank you, sir." 
"And what is it saying--anything you understand?" 
"Yes; it asks if I am ready." 
"And you reply?" 
"By the same sign, which, at the same time, tells my right-hand correspondent that I am ready, while it gives notice to my left-hand correspondent to prepare in his turn." 
"It is very ingenious," said the count. 
"You will see," said the man proudly; "in five minutes he will speak." 
"I have, then, five minutes," said Monte Cristo to himself; "it is more time than I require. My dear sir, will you allow me to ask you a question?" 
"What is it, sir?" 
"You are fond of gardening?" 
"Passionately." 
"And you would be pleased to have, instead of this terrace of twenty feet, an enclosure of two acres?" 
"Sir, I should make a terrestrial paradise of it." 
"You live badly on your thousand francs?" 
"Badly enough; but yet I do live." 
"Yes; but you have a wretchedly small garden." 
"True, the garden is not large." 
"And, then, such as it is, it is filled with dormice, who eat everything." 
"Ah, they are my scourges." 
"Tell me, should you have the misfortune to turn your head while your right-hand correspondent was telegraphing"-- 
"I should not see him." 
"Then what would happen?" 
"I could not repeat the signals." 
"And then?" 
"Not having repeated them, through negligence, I should be fined." 
"How much?" 
"A hundred francs." 
"The tenth of your income--that would be fine work." 
"Ah," said the man. 
"Has it ever happened to you?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Once, sir, when I was grafting a rose-tree." 
"Well, suppose you were to alter a signal, and substitute another?" 
"Ah, that is another case; I should be turned off, and lose my pension." 
"Three hundred francs?" 
"A hundred crowns, yes, sir; so you see that I am not likely to do any of these things." 
"Not even for fifteen years' wages? Come, it is worth thinking about?" 
"For fifteen thousand francs?" 
"Yes." 
"Sir, you alarm me." 
"Nonsense." 
"Sir, you are tempting me?" 
"Just so; fifteen thousand francs, do you understand?" 
"Sir, let me see my right-hand correspondent." 
"On the contrary, do not look at him, but at this." 
"What is it?" 
"What? Do you not know these bits of paper?" 
"Bank-notes!" 
"Exactly; there are fifteen of them." 
"And whose are they?" 
"Yours, if you like." 
"Mine?" exclaimed the man, half-suffocated. 
"Yes; yours--your own property." 
"Sir, my right-hand correspondent is signalling." 
"Let him signal." 
"Sir, you have distracted me; I shall be fined." 
"That will cost you a hundred francs; you see it is your interest to take my bank-notes." 
"Sir, my right-hand correspondent redoubles his signals; he is impatient." 
"Never mind--take these;" and the count placed the packet in the man's hands. "Now this is not all," he said; "you cannot live upon your fifteen thousand francs." 
"I shall still have my place." 
"No, you will lose it, for you are going to alter your correspondent's message." 
"Oh, sir, what are you proposing?" 
"A jest." 
"Sir, unless you force me"-- 
"I think I can effectually force you;" and Monte Cristo drew another packet from his pocket. "Here are ten thousand more francs," he said, "with the fifteen thousand already in your pocket, they will make twenty-five thousand. With five thousand you can buy a pretty little house with two acres of land; the remaining twenty thousand will bring you in a thousand francs a year." 
"A garden with two acres of land!" 
"And a thousand francs a year." 
"Oh, heavens!" 
"Come, take them," and Monte Cristo forced the bank-notes into his hand. 
"What am I to do?" 
"Nothing very difficult." 
"But what is it?" 
"To repeat these signs." Monte Cristo took a paper from his pocket, upon which were drawn three signs, with numbers to indicate the order in which they were to be worked. 
"There, you see it will not take long." 
"Yes; but"-- 
"Do this, and you will have nectarines and all the rest." The shot told; red with fever, while the large drops fell from his brow, the man executed, one after the other, the three signs given by the count, in spite of the frightful contortions of the right-hand correspondent, who, not understanding the change, began to think the gardener had gone mad. As to the left-hand one, he conscientiously repeated the same signals, which were finally transmitted to the Minister of the Interior. "Now you are rich," said Monte Cristo. 
"Yes," replied the man, "but at what a price!" 
"Listen, friend," said Monte Cristo. "I do not wish to cause you any remorse; believe me, then, when I swear to you that you have wronged no man, but on the contrary have benefited mankind." The man looked at the bank-notes, felt them, counted them, turned pale, then red, then rushed into his room to drink a glass of water, but he had no time to reach the water-jug, and fainted in the midst of his dried herbs. Five minutes after the new telegram reached the minister, Debray had the horses put to his carriage, and drove to Danglars' house. 
"Has your husband any Spanish bonds?" he asked of the baroness. 
"I think so, indeed! He has six millions' worth." 
"He must sell them at whatever price." 
"Why?" 
"Because Don Carlos has fled from Bourges, and has returned to Spain." 
"How do you know?" Debray shrugged his shoulders. "The idea of asking how I hear the news," he said. The baroness did not wait for a repetition; she ran to her husband, who immediately hastened to his agent, and ordered him to sell at any price. When it was seen that Danglars sold, the Spanish funds fell directly. Danglars lost five hundred thousand francs; but he rid himself of all his Spanish shares. The same evening the following was read in Le Messager: 
"[By telegraph.] The king, Don Carlos, has escaped the vigilance of his guardians at Bourges, and has returned to Spain by the Catalonian frontier. Barcelona has risen in his favor." 
All that evening nothing was spoken of but the foresight of Danglars, who had sold his shares, and of the luck of the stock-jobber, who only lost five hundred thousand francs by such a blow. Those who had kept their shares, or bought those of Danglars, looked upon themselves as ruined, and passed a very bad night. Next morning Le Moniteur contained the following: 
"It was without any foundation that Le Messager yesterday announced the flight of Don Carlos and the revolt of Barcelona. The king (Don Carlos) has not left Bourges, and the peninsula is in the enjoyment of profound peace. A telegraphic signal, improperly interpreted, owing to the fog, was the cause of this error." 
The funds rose one per cent higher than before they had fallen. This, reckoning his loss, and what he had missed gaining, made the difference of a million to Danglars. "Good," said Monte Cristo to Morrel, who was at his house when the news arrived of the strange reverse of fortune of which Danglars's had been the victim, "I have just made a discovery for twenty-five thousand francs, for which I would have paid a hundred thousand." 
"What have you discovered?" asked Morrel. 
"I have just discovered how a gardener may get rid of the dormice that eat his peaches."  
基督山伯爵驱车出了恩弗城栅，踏上了去奥尔良的大路，但并不象他所说的在当天傍晚，而是在第二天早晨。当经过黎纳斯村的时候，他并没有在那些不起眼的急报站前停下来，而是径直达到蒙得雷塔。蒙得雷塔，大家都知道，就在蒙得雷平原的最高点上。伯爵在山脚下下了车，开始沿着一条约莫十八寸宽的弯弯曲曲的小路上山。一到山顶，他就发觉自己被一道篱笆挡住了，篱笆上挂满了绿色的果实和红色白色的花朵。 
基督山找了一下篱笆上的门，不久就找到了。那是一扇小木门，用柳条做的铰链，用一根绳子和一枚钉子做的搭扣。 
伯爵不一会儿搞清了它的机关，门开了。他于是发觉自己已站在了一个约莫二十尺长、十二尺宽的小花园里，花园的这一面是篱笆，上面挖出一个门，另一面就是那座爬满了常春藤和点缀着野花的古塔。看它这种满脸皱纹、盛装艳抹的样子，真象是一位等候她的孙儿女来向她拜寿的老太太，然而，假如象古谚语所说隔墙有耳的话，它能讲出好几件可怕的悲剧，这恐怕是谁都想得到的。花园里有一条红色的石子铺成的小径，两旁夹着已经生长了很多年的茂密的黄杨树，其色彩和风格，要是让我们当代的绘画大师德拉克络斯看了心里一定会很喜欢的。这条小径成字形，所以在一个只有二十尺长的花园里，它弯弯曲曲地形成了一条六十尺的走道。白花女神弗洛雪林要是看到了这块小小的园地，准会满面含笑的。准会觉得在这里受到了旷世未有的崇敬。的确，在那花坛中的那二十株玫瑰花上，没有一只苍蝇停在上面。那些繁生在潮湿的土壤里专门毁坏植物的绿色昆虫，在这里却一只都看不到。可是这并非说花园里的土就不潮湿。那泥土黑得象煤炭一样，树上枝叶茂密，这一切都说明土壤的确是很润湿的；而且，要是天然的湿度不够的话，还可以立刻用人工的方法来弥补，这就得感谢那只埋在花园的一个角落里的大水缸了。水缸边上驻着一只青蛙和一只癞蛤蟆，青蛙和癞蛤蟆是天生合不来的，它们当然永远地呆在这只浴盆的两面。小径上看不到一根杂草，花坛里也没有。这位园丁虽然还未露面，但他经营这片小园地的一番苦心已是人人都看得到的了，即使一位细心的太太也不会这样小心地来浇灌她的天竺葵、仙人掌和踯躅草的。基督山把门关上，把绳子扣回到铁钉上，然后站定了向四周看了一眼。 
“这位急报员，”他说道，“一定雇有园丁，不然的话，他本人肯定就是一位热心的园艺家。”突然他在一辆满装树叶的羊角车后面踩到了一样东西，那东西本来是伛偻着的，被他一踩，就站了起来，于是基督山发觉他面前已站着一个年约五十岁左右的男人，他刚才正在摘草莓，并把摘下的草莓都放在葡萄叶上。他有十二张萄萄叶和差不多同数的草莓，但由于站起来的时候太突然了，草莓从他的手上滚了下去。 
“你在采果子吗，先生？”基督山微笑着说道。 
“很抱歉，先生，”那人把他的手举到鸭舌帽的边上，答道。“我没在上面，你知道，但我也是刚刚下来的。” 
“我不打扰你了，朋友，”伯爵说，“继续采你的草莓吧，假如的确还有些没采完的话。” 
“我还有十个没采下来，”那人说道，“因为这儿已经有十一个了，我一共有二十一个，比去年多了五个。这我并不感到奇怪，因为今年春天很暖和，而草莓要天热才长得好，先生。就是为了这个原因，我去年虽然只有十六个，而今年，你看，已经摘了十一个了——十二，十三，十四，十五，十六，十七，十八。啊，少了三个！它们昨天晚上还在这儿的，先生。我确信它们是在这儿的——我数过的呀。肯定是西蒙大娘的儿子把它们偷去了。我今天早晨看到他在这儿溜来溜去的。啊，那个小混蛋！在花园里偷东西！他倒不怕吃官司。” 
“这事是挺严重，”基督山说道，“但你也应考虑到罪犯的年轻和口味。” 
“当然喽，”那园艺家说道，“但它仍然使我不高兴呀。先生，我再道歉一次，我耽搁你了，您大概是一位长官吧？”他胆怯地瞟了一眼伯爵的蓝色上装。 
“请放心吧，我的朋友，”伯爵带笑说道，他可以随意把他的笑容变成可怕或慈祥的样子，而这一次他脸上笑容是后者那种表情。“我不是什么视察官，而是一个旅客，是出于好奇心才到这儿来的。我已经开始后悔来参观了，因为这恐怕要浪费你的时间的。” 
“啊！”我的时间是不值钱的。”那人带着一个凄苦的微笑回答道。“可是，它是属于政府的，我也不应该浪费它，但收过信号后，我就可以休息一个钟头了。”（说到这里，他望了一眼日规，在这个蒙得雷花园里一切都齐备，连日规都有），还有十分钟，我的草莓已经熟了，再过一天——且慢，先生，你认为睡鼠吃草莓吗？” 
“哦，我想不会吧，”基督山郑重地回答说，“睡鼠，先生，是我们的坏邻居，但我们可不象罗马人那样把它们浸在蜜糖里吃。” 
“什么！罗马人吃这种东西吗？”那位园艺家说道，“他们吃睡鼠？” 
“彼特尼乌斯［彼特尼乌斯，生于公元一世纪，罗马作家，写有《讽刺集》一书，记述罗马一世纪时的生活。——译注］的书上是这样写的。”伯爵说道。 
“真的！它们不见得好吃吧，尽管人们常说，‘肥得象一只睡鼠’这句话。也难怪它们肥，白天整天睡觉，到了晚上才醒来，然后通夜地吃。听我说！去年我的树上结了四只杏子，它们偷去了一个。结了一只油桃，只有一只——嗯，先生，它们就爬到墙上去吃掉了半只，那可是一只非常好的油桃，我从来没吃到过比它更好的了。” 
“你吃了吗？” 
“吃了剩下的那半只，您知道，味道鲜美极了，先生。啊，那些先生们是从来不会捡坏东西吃的，就象西蒙大娘的儿子一样，他从不吃那些坏草莓。但明年呀，”那位园艺家继续说道，“我是要小心提防，不让这种事再发生，当草莓快要成熟的时候，即使要我通宵坐着看守他们我也干。” 
基督山看够了。每个人的心里都热爱着某样东西，正如每一种果子里都有一种毛虫一样，这个急报员所热爱的是园艺业。他开始来摘掉那些使葡萄被遮住，而享受不到阳光的叶子，所以才博得了那位园艺家的欢心。 
“您是到这儿来看发急报的吗，先生？”他问。 
“是的，假如不违反规定的话。” 
“噢，不，”那园艺家说道，“根本没什么规定不许人看，况且看看也没什么危险，因为没有人知道，也没有人能知道，我们在说些什么。” 
“我听人说，”伯爵说道，“你们对于自己所传达的信号也并不是都懂的。” 
“当然喽，先生，我最高兴的就是这一点。”那个人微笑着说。 
“你为什么最高兴这一点呢？” 
“因为那样我就没责任了。我只是一架机器而已，只要我完成了自己的任务，别的就一概都不用管了。” 
“难道我是遇到了一个没有野心的人吗？”基督山心里自问道，“那会把我的计划弄糟的。” 
“先生，”那位园艺家瞟了一眼日规说道，“十分钟快过去了，我得回去干我的活了。请您和我一起上去好吗？” 
“我跟着你。” 
基督山走进了这座塔。塔分上下三层，最底下的一层储藏园艺工具，如铲子、水壶、钉耙什么的，都一一挂在墙上；全部家具都在这儿了。第二层是普通房间。说得更确切些，就是那人睡觉的地方；房间里有几件可怜的家具——一张床，一个桌子，两把椅子，一只陶瓷水壶；天花板上挂着一些干瘪的草本植物，伯爵认出那是干胡豆，其中有不知是哪位好人保留下来的种子，上面贴着标签，贴得非常认真仔细，好象他曾在植物研究所里当过植物学大师似的。 
“要学会急报术得花很长时间吗，先生？”基督山问。 
“学会它用不了多久，只是工作很单调，令人厌烦极了。” 
“薪水是多少？” 
“一千法郎，先生。” 
“太少了。” 
“是的，但你也看到了，我们是供给住处的。” 
基督山望着房间。“希望他不要十分依恋他这个住处才好！”他心里默想着。 
他们走上了三楼。这里就是急报房了。基督山交替地观看着那架机器上的两只铁把子。“有趣极了，”他说道，但天长日久，你对这种生活一定会觉得非常厌烦吧。” 
“是的。最初要不断地望着，直望得我脖子都酸了，但过了一年之后，我倒也习惯了，而且我们也有消遣和放假的时候。” 
“放假？” 
“是的。” 
“什么时候？” 
“大雾天的时候。” 
“啊，一点不错。” 
“那实在是我的假日，我就到花园里去，下种，拔草，剪枝，整天灭虫。” 
“你在这儿有多久了？” 
“十年加五年，我已经做了十五年的机器人了。” 
“你现在” 
“五十五岁喽。” 
“你必须服务多久才能享受养老金？” 
“噢，先生，得二十五年才行。” 
“养老金是多少？” 
“一百艾居。” 
“可怜的人类！”基督山低声说道。 
“你说什么，先生？”那人问道。 
“我说有趣极了。” 
“什么东西有趣？” 
“你指给我看的一切都很有趣。你对于这些信号真的一点都不懂吗？” 
“一点都不懂。” 
“你从未想过去弄懂它们的意思吗？” 
“不。我何必要去懂呢？” 
“但有几个信号是特地发给你的吗？” 
“当然罗。” 
“那些信号你懂不懂？” 
“那是千篇一律的。” 
“它们的意思是” 
“‘无新消息’、‘可休息一小时’、或是‘明天’。” 
“这倒非常简单，”伯爵说道，“看！你的通讯员是不是在那儿向你发信号了？” 
“啊，是的，谢谢你，先生。” 
“他在说什么——你懂不懂？” 
“懂的，他在问我准备好了没有。” 
“你的回答呢？” 
“发一个信号，告诉我右边的通讯员我已经准备好了，同时，这也是在通知我左边的通讯员，叫他也准备好。” 
“妙极了。”伯爵说道。 
“你瞧着吧，”那人骄傲地说道，“五分钟之内，他就要说话了。” 
“那么，我还有五分钟的时间，”基督山对他自己说道，“我还用不了那么长的时间呢。亲爱的先生，你能允许我问你一个问题吗？” 
“什么事，先生！” 
“你很喜欢园艺工作？” 
“喜欢极了。” 
“假如放弃这块二十尺长的草坪，给你一个两亩大的园子，你会高兴吗？” 
“先生，我可以把它造成一座人间乐园的。” 
“只靠一千法郎，你的生活一定过得很艰难吧？” 
“够艰难的了，但还能活下去。” 
“是的，但你只有一个很可怜的花园！” 
“不错，这个花园不大。” 
“而且，非但不大，还到处都有偷吃一切东西的睡鼠。” 
“啊！它们可真是我的灾星。” 
“告诉我，当你右边的那位通讯员在发报的时候，假如你碰巧转了一下头——” 
“那我就什么都看不到了。” 
“那就会发生什么事？” 
“我就无法转达那信号了。” 
“于是？” 
  
“因疏忽而不能转达，我将被罚款。” 
“罚多少？” 
“一百法郎。” 
“一下子去了你收入的十分之一，真够受的！” 
“啊！”那个人说道。 
“你有没有发生过这种事？”基督山说道。 
“有一次的，先生，那次我正在给一棵玫瑰花接枝。” 
“嗯，假如你把它改变一下，用别的信号来代替呢？” 
“啊，那就是另一回事了，我就会被革职，失去我的养老金的。” 
“是三百法郎吗？” 
“是的，一百艾居，先生，所以你看，我是不愿意去干那种事的。” 
“一下子给你十五年的工资你也不干吗？嘿，这可是值得想一想的呀，呃？” 
“给我一万五千法郎？” 
“是呀。” 
“先生，您吓坏我啦。” 
“这算不了什么。” 
“先生，您在诱惑我。” 
“一点不错，一万五千法郎，你懂吗？” 
“先生，现在让我来看看我右边的通讯员吧！” 
“恰恰相反，别去看他，来看看这个吧。” 
“这是什么？” 
“什么！难道你不认识这些小纸片吗？” 
“钞票！” 
“一点儿不错，一共十五张。” 
“这是谁的？” 
“是你的，假如你愿意的话。” 
“我的！”那个人几乎透不过气来大声说道。 
“是的，你的——你自己的财产。” 
“先生，我右边的通讯员在发信号啦。” 
“让他去发好啦。” 
“先生，你可害苦了我了，我会被罚款的呀。” 
“那只会使你损失一百法郎，你瞧，收了我的钞票以后对你还是很有利的。” 
“先生，我右边的通讯员在重发他的信号了，他不耐烦啦。” 
“别去管他，收下吧。”说着伯爵就把那叠钞票塞到了那个人的手里。“这还没完，”他说道，“你不能只靠一万五千法郎生活。” 
“我仍然可以保留我的工作的。” 
“不，你的工作肯定要失去的，因为你得改变一下那个通讯员发来的信号。” 
“噢，先生，您想干什么？” 
“开个玩笑而已。” 
“先生，除非你强迫我——” 
“我准备很有效地强迫你，”基督山从他的口袋里又抽出一叠钞票来。“这儿还有一万法郎，”他说道，“加上已经在你口袋里的那一万五千，一共是二万五了。你可以用五千法郎买一块两亩大的地和一所漂亮的小房子；余下的两万可以使你每年有一千法郎的利息。” 
“一座两亩地大的花园？” 
“一年还有一千法郎。” 
“啊，天哪！” 
“喂，拿着吧！”基督山把钞票硬塞到他的手里。 
“我得做什么事呢？” 
“事情并不很难。” 
“但是什么事呢？” 
“把这些信号发出去。”基督山从他的口袋里摸出一张纸来，上面已写好了三组信号，还有数目字标明发送的次序。 
“喏，你看，这用不了多长时间的。” 
“是的，但是——” 
“完成这件事以后，油桃以及其他的一切你便都可以有了。” 
这一突然的进攻成功了，那个人脸涨得通红，额头上滚下了一连串黄豆般大的汗珠，他把伯爵交给他的那三组信号接连发了出去，根本不顾那右边的通讯员在那儿是多么得惊奇，后者由于不知道其中的变化，还以为这位园艺家发疯了呢。至于左边的那个通讯员，他如实地转达了那些同样的信号。于是那些信号就忠实地传向了内政部长。 
“你现在发财了。”基督山说道。 
“是的，”那个人回答说，“但付出了多大的代价呵！” 
“听着，我的朋友，”基督山说道。“我不希望你产生丝毫的后悔之意，所以，相信我吧，我可以向你发誓，你这样做不损害任何人，你只是执行了天意而已。” 
“那人望着钞票，把它们抚摸了一阵，数了一遍；他的脸色由白转红。然后他向他的房间里冲去，想去喝一杯水，但还没等跑到水壶那个地方，他就晕倒在他的干豆枝堆里了。 
五分钟之后，这封新的急报送到了部长的手里，德布雷吩咐套车，急忙赶到了腾格拉尔府上。 
“你丈夫有没有西班牙公债？”他问男爵夫人。 
“我想有的吧。的确！他有六百万呢。” 
“他必须卖掉它，不管是什么价钱。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为卡罗斯已经从布尔日逃了出来，回西班牙了。” 
“你怎么知道的？” 
德布雷耸了耸肩。“竟想到来问我怎么知道那个消息的！”他说道。 
男爵夫人不再问什么了。她急忙奔到她丈夫那儿，后者则立刻赶到了他的代理人那儿，吩咐他不管什么价钱赶快卖掉。大家一看到腾格拉尔抛出，西班牙公债西班牙公债就立刻下跌了。腾格拉尔虽蚀掉了五十万法郎，但他却把他的西班牙证券全部都脱手了。当天晚上，《消息报》上登出了这样一段新闻：“急报站讯：被监禁在布尔日的国王卡罗斯已逃脱，现已越过加塔洛尼亚边境回到了西班牙。巴塞罗那人民群起拥戴。” 
那天晚上，大家别的什么都不谈，只谈论腾格拉尔有先见之明，因为他把他的证券全卖掉了，又谈到了他的运气，因为在这样一个打击之下，他只蚀掉了五十万法郎。那些没有把证券卖掉或收购腾格拉尔的公债的人，认为自己已经破产了，因而过了一个极不愉快的夜晚。 
第二天早晨，《警世报》上登出了下面这段消息：“《消息报》昨日所登有关卡罗斯逃脱，巴塞罗那叛变的消息毫无根据。国王卡罗斯并未离开布尔日，半岛仍处一片升平气象中。此项错误，系由于雾中急报信号误传所致。 
于是西班牙公债立刻飞涨了起来，其上涨的幅度是下跌的两倍。把蚀掉的本钱和错过的赚头加起来，腾格拉尔一下子损失了一百万。 
“好！”基督山对莫雷尔说道，当这个暴跌暴涨的怪新闻传来的时候，后者正在他的家里。“我刚才有了一个新发现，可以用二万五千法郎去买到我愿意付十万的东西。”   
“你发现了什么？”莫雷尔问道。 
“我刚刚发现了一种把一个怕睡鼠吃他的桃子的园艺家拯救出来的方法。”  
Chapter 62 Ghosts
 AT FIRST SIGHT the exterior of the house at Auteuil gave no indications of splendor, nothing one would expect from the destined residence of the magnificent Count of Monte Cristo; but this simplicity was according to the will of its master, who positively ordered nothing to be altered outside. The splendor was within. Indeed, almost before the door opened, the scene changed. M. Bertuccio had outdone himself in the taste displayed in furnishing, and in the rapidity with which it was executed. It is told that the Duc d'Antin removed in a single night a whole avenue of trees that annoyed Louis XIV; in three days M. Bertuccio planted an entirely bare court with poplars, large spreading sycamores to shade the different parts of the house, and in the foreground, instead of the usual paving-stones, half hidden by the grass, there extended a lawn but that morning laid down, and upon which the water was yet glistening. For the rest, the orders had been issued by the count; he himself had given a plan to Bertuccio, marking the spot where each tree was to be planted, and the shape and extent of the lawn which was to take the place of the paving-stones. Thus the house had become unrecognizable, and Bertuccio himself declared that he scarcely knew it, encircled as it was by a framework of trees. The overseer would not have objected, while he was about it, to have made some improvements in the garden, but the count had positively forbidden it to be touched. Bertuccio made amends, however, by loading the ante-chambers, staircases, and mantle-pieces with flowers. 
What, above all, manifested the shrewdness of the steward, and the profound science of the master, the one in carrying out the ideas of the other, was that this house which appeared only the night before so sad and gloomy, impregnated with that sickly smell one can almost fancy to be the smell of time, had in a single day acquired the aspect of life, was scented with its master's favorite perfumes, and had the very light regulated according to his wish. When the count arrived, he had under his touch his books and arms, his eyes rested upon his favorite pictures; his dogs, whose caresses he loved, welcomed him in the ante-chamber; the birds, whose songs delighted him, cheered him with their music; and the house, awakened from its long sleep, like the sleeping beauty in the wood, lived, sang, and bloomed like the houses we have long cherished, and in which, when we are forced to leave them, we leave a part of our souls. The servants passed gayly along the fine court-yard; some, belonging to the kitchens, gliding down the stairs, restored but the previous day, as if they had always inhabited the house; others filling the coach-houses, where the equipages, encased and numbered, appeared to have been installed for the last fifty years; and in the stables the horses replied with neighs to the grooms, who spoke to them with much more respect than many servants pay their masters. 
The library was divided into two parts on either side of the wall, and contained upwards of two thousand volumes; one division was entirely devoted to novels, and even the volume which had been published but the day before was to be seen in its place in all the dignity of its red and gold binding. On the other side of the house, to match with the library, was the conservatory, ornamented with rare flowers, that bloomed in china jars; and in the midst of the greenhouse, marvellous alike to sight and smell, was a billiard-table which looked as if it had been abandoned during the past hour by players who had left the balls on the cloth. One chamber alone had been respected by the magnificent Bertuccio. Before this room, to which you could ascend by the grand, and go out by the back staircase, the servants passed with curiosity, and Bertuccio with terror. At five o'clock precisely, the count arrived before the house at Auteuil, followed by Ali. Bertuccio was awaiting this arrival with impatience, mingled with uneasiness; he hoped for some compliments, while, at the same time, he feared to have frowns. Monte Cristo descended into the courtyard, walked all over the house, without giving any sign of approbation or pleasure, until he entered his bedroom, situated on the opposite side to the closed room; then he approached a little piece of furniture, made of rosewood, which he had noticed at a previous visit. "That can only be to hold gloves," he said. 
"Will your excellency deign to open it?" said the delighted Bertuccio, "and you will find gloves in it." Elsewhere the count found everything he required--smelling-bottles, cigars, knick-knacks. 
"Good," he said; and M. Bertuccio left enraptured, so great, so powerful, and real was the influence exercised by this man over all who surrounded him. At precisely six o'clock the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard at the entrance door; it was our captain of Spahis, who had arrived on Medeah. "I am sure I am the first," cried Morrel; "I did it on purpose to have you a minute to myself, before every one came. Julie and Emmanuel have a thousand things to tell you. Ah, really this is magnificent! But tell me, count, will your people take care of my horse?" 
"Do not alarm yourself, my dear Maximilian--they understand." 
"I mean, because he wants petting. If you had seen at what a pace he came--like the wind!" 
"I should think so,--a horse that cost 5,000 francs!" said Monte Cristo, in the tone which a father would use towards a son. 
"Do you regret them?" asked Morrel, with his open laugh. 
"I? Certainly not," replied the count. "No; I should only regret if the horse had not proved good." 
"It is so good, that I have distanced M. de Chateau-Renaud, one of the best riders in France, and M. Debray, who both mount the minister's Arabians; and close on their heels are the horses of Madame Danglars, who always go at six leagues an hour." 
"Then they follow you?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"See, they are here." And at the same minute a carriage with smoking horses, accompanied by two mounted gentlemen, arrived at the gate, which opened before them. The carriage drove round, and stopped at the steps, followed by the horsemen. The instant Debray had touched the ground, he was at the carriage-door. He offered his hand to the baroness, who, descending, took it with a peculiarity of manner imperceptible to every one but Monte Cristo. But nothing escaped the count's notice, and he observed a little note, passed with the facility that indicates frequent practice, from the hand of Madame Danglars to that of the minister's secretary. After his wife the banker descended, as pale as though he had issued from his tomb instead of his carriage. Madame Danglars threw a rapid and inquiring glance which could only be interpreted by Monte Cristo, around the court-yard, over the peristyle, and across the front of the house, then, repressing a slight emotion, which must have been seen on her countenance if she had not kept her color, she ascended the steps, saying to Morrel, "Sir, if you were a friend of mine, I should ask you if you would sell your horse." 
Morrel smiled with an expression very like a grimace, and then turned round to Monte Cristo, as if to ask him to extricate him from his embarrassment. The count understood him. "Ah, madame," he said, "why did you not make that request of me?" 
"With you, sir," replied the baroness, "one can wish for nothing, one is so sure to obtain it. If it were so with M. Morrel"-- 
"Unfortunately," replied the count, "I am witness that M. Morrel cannot give up his horse, his honor being engaged in keeping it." 
"How so?" 
"He laid a wager he would tame Medeah in the space of six months. You understand now that if he were to get rid of the animal before the time named, he would not only lose his bet, but people would say he was afraid; and a brave captain of Spahis cannot risk this, even to gratify a pretty woman, which is, in my opinion, one of the most sacred obligations in the world." 
"You see my position, madame," said Morrel, bestowing a grateful smile on Monte Cristo. 
"It seems to me," said Danglars, in his coarse tone, ill-concealed by a forced smile, "that you have already got horses enough." Madame Danglars seldom allowed remarks of this kind to pass unnoticed, but, to the surprise of the young people, she pretended not to hear it, and said nothing. Monte Cristo smiled at her unusual humility, and showed her two immense porcelain jars, over which wound marine plants, of a size and delicacy that nature alone could produce. The baroness was astonished. "Why," said she, "you could plant one of the chestnut-trees in the Tuileries inside! How can such enormous jars have been manufactured?" 
"Ah, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "you must not ask of us, the manufacturers of fine porcelain, such a question. It is the work of another age, constructed by the genii of earth and water." 
"How so?--at what period can that have been?" 
"I do not know; I have only heard that an emperor of China had an oven built expressly, and that in this oven twelve jars like this were successively baked. Two broke, from the heat of the fire; the other ten were sunk three hundred fathoms deep into the sea. The sea, knowing what was required of her, threw over them her weeds, encircled them with coral, and encrusted them with shells; the whole was cemented by two hundred years beneath these almost impervious depths, for a revolution carried away the emperor who wished to make the trial, and only left the documents proving the manufacture of the jars and their descent into the sea. At the end of two hundred years the documents were found, and they thought of bringing up the jars. Divers descended in machines, made expressly on the discovery, into the bay where they were thrown; but of ten three only remained, the rest having been broken by the waves. I am fond of these jars, upon which, perhaps, misshapen, frightful monsters have fixed their cold, dull eyes, and in which myriads of small fish have slept, seeking a refuge from the pursuit of their enemies." Meanwhile, Danglars, who had cared little for curiosities, was mechanically tearing off the blossoms of a splendid orange-tree, one after another. When he had finished with the orange-tree, he began at the cactus; but this, not being so easily plucked as the orange-tree, pricked him dreadfully. He shuddered, and rubbed his eyes as though awaking from a dream. 
"Sir," said Monte Cristo to him, "I do not recommend my pictures to you, who possess such splendid paintings; but, nevertheless, here are two by Hobbema, a Paul Potter, a Mieris, two by Gérard Douw, a Raphael, a Vandyke, a Zurbaran, and two or three by Murillo, worth looking at." 
"Stay," said Debray; "I recognize this Hobbema." 
"Ah, indeed!" 
"Yes; it was proposed for the Museum." 
"Which, I believe, does not contain one?" said Monte Cristo. 
"No; and yet they refused to buy it." 
"Why?" said Chateau-Renaud. 
"You pretend not to know,--because government was not rich enough." 
"Ah, pardon me," said Chateau-Renaud; "I have heard of these things every day during the last eight years, and I cannot understand them yet." 
"You will, by and by," said Debray. 
"I think not," replied Chateau-Renaud. 
"Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and Count Andrea Cavalcanti," announced Baptistin. A black satin stock, fresh from the maker's hands, gray moustaches, a bold eye, a major's uniform, ornamented with three medals and five crosses--in fact, the thorough bearing of an old soldier--such was the appearance of Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, that tender father with whom we are already acquainted. Close to him, dressed in entirely new clothes, advanced smilingly Count Andrea Cavalcanti, the dutiful son, whom we also know. The three young people were talking together. On the entrance of the new comers, their eyes glanced from father to son, and then, naturally enough, rested on the latter, whom they began criticising. "Cavalcanti!" said Debray. "A fine name," said Morrel. 
"Yes," said Chateau-Renaud, "these Italians are well named and badly dressed." 
"You are fastidious, Chateau-Renaud," replied Debray; "those clothes are well cut and quite new." 
"That is just what I find fault with. That gentleman appears to be well dressed for the first time in his life." 
"Who are those gentlemen?" asked Danglars of Monte Cristo. 
"You heard--Cavalcanti." 
"That tells me their name, and nothing else." 
"Ah, true. You do not know the Italian nobility; the Cavalcanti are all descended from princes." 
"Have they any fortune?" 
"An enormous one." 
"What do they do?" 
"Try to spend it all. They have some business with you, I think, from what they told me the day before yesterday. I, indeed, invited them here to-day on your account. I will introduce you to them." 
"But they appear to speak French with a very pure accent," said Danglars. 
"The son has been educated in a college in the south; I believe near Marseilles. You will find him quite enthusiastic." 
"Upon what subject?" asked Madame Danglars. 
"The French ladies, madame. He has made up his mind to take a wife from Paris." 
"A fine idea that of his," said Danglars, shrugging his shoulders. Madame Danglars looked at her husband with an expression which, at any other time, would have indicated a storm, but for the second time she controlled herself. "The baron appears thoughtful to-day," said Monte Cristo to her; "are they going to put him in the ministry?" 
"Not yet, I think. More likely he has been speculating on the Bourse, and has lost money." 
"M. and Madame de Villefort," cried Baptistin. They entered. M. de Villefort, notwithstanding his self-control, was visibly affected, and when Monte Cristo touched his hand, he felt it tremble. "Certainly, women alone know how to dissimulate," said Monte Cristo to himself, glancing at Madame Danglars, who was smiling on the procureur, and embracing his wife. After a short time, the count saw Bertuccio, who, until then, had been occupied on the other side of the house, glide into an adjoining room. He went to him. "What do you want, M. Bertuccio?" said he. 
"Your excellency his not stated the number of guests." 
"Ah, true." 
"How many covers?" 
"Count for yourself." 
"Is every one here, your excellency?" 
"Yes." 
Bertuccio glanced through the door, which was ajar. The count watched him. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. 
"What is the matter?" said the count. 
"That woman--that woman!" 
"Which?" 
"The one with a white dress and so many diamonds--the fair one." 
"Madame Danglars?" 
"I do not know her name; but it is she, sir, it is she!" 
"Whom do you mean?" 
"The woman of the garden!--she that was enciente--she who was walking while she waited for"--Bertuccio stood at the open door, with his eyes starting and his hair on end. 
"Waiting for whom?" Bertuccio, without answering, pointed to Villefort with something of the gesture Macbeth uses to point out Banquo. "Oh, oh," he at length muttered, "do you see?" 
"What? Who?" 
"Him!" 
"Him!--M. de Villefort, the king's attorney? Certainly I see him." 
"Then I did not kill him?" 
"Really, I think you are going mad, good Bertuccio," said the count. 
"Then he is not dead?" 
"No; you see plainly he is not dead. Instead of striking between the sixth and seventh left ribs, as your countrymen do, you must have struck higher or lower, and life is very tenacious in these lawyers, or rather there is no truth in anything you have told me--it was a fright of the imagination, a dream of your fancy. You went to sleep full of thoughts of vengeance; they weighed heavily upon your stomach; you had the nightmare--that's all. Come, calm yourself, and reckon them up--M. and Madame de Villefort, two; M. and Madame Danglars, four; M. de Chateau-Renaud, M. Debray, M. Morrel, seven; Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, eight." 
"Eight!" repeated Bertuccio. 
"Stop! You are in a shocking hurry to be off--you forget one of my guests. Lean a little to the left. Stay! look at M. Andrea Cavalcanti, the young man in a black coat, looking at Murillo's Madonna; now he is turning." This time Bertuccio would have uttered an exclamation, had not a look from Monte Cristo silenced him. "Benedetto?" he muttered; "fatality!" 
"Half-past six o'clock has just struck, M. Bertuccio," said the count severely; "I ordered dinner at that hour, and I do not like to wait;" and he returned to his guests, while Bertuccio, leaning against the wall, succeeded in reaching the dining-room. Five minutes afterwards the doors of the. drawing-room were thrown open, and Bertuccio appearing said, with a violent effort, "The dinner waits." 
The Count of Monte Cristo offered his arm to Madame de Villefort. "M. de Villefort," he said, "will you conduct the Baroness Danglars?" 
Villefort complied, and they passed on to the dining-room.  
欧特伊村那座房子的外表，乍一看，并不见得怎么富丽堂皇，它使人想不到这会是那奢华的基督山伯爵的别墅。但这种朴素的情调是颇符合房子主人的心意的，他曾明明白白地吩咐过，不许外表有任何改变，这一点，只要一看房子的内部，谁都会立刻明白的。的确，大门一开，情景就改变了。 
贝尔图乔先生充分显示了他在陈设布置方面的风趣和办事的果断迅速。从前安顿公爵在一夜之间就把整条大马路上的树木全部砍掉了，因此而惹恼了路易十四；贝尔图乔先生则在三天之内把一座完全光秃秃的前庭种满了白杨树和丫枝纵横的大枫树，使浓荫覆盖着房子的前前后后；房子前面通常都是半掩在杂草里的石子路，但这儿却伸展着一条青草铺成的走道，这条青草小道还是那天早晨才铺成的呢，草上的水珠还在闪闪发光呢。对其它的一切，伯爵也都有过明确的吩咐；他亲自画了一个图样给贝尔图乔，上面标明了每一棵树的地点以及那条代替石子路的青草走道长度和宽度。所以这座房子已完全变了样。连贝尔图乔都说他几乎认不出它了，它的四周已被树木所围绕了。管家本来想把花园也修整一番，但伯爵已明确地关照过，花园里的东西碰都不许碰一下，所以贝尔图乔只得把气力用到了别的上面，候见室里、楼梯上和壁炉架上到处都堆满了花。还有一点是最能显出主人学识渊博、指挥有方、理家办事得力的，就是：这座闲置了二十年的房子，在头一天晚上还是这样凄冷阴森，充满了令人闻之作呕的气味，几乎使人觉得好象嗅到了那陈年的气息，但在第二天，它却换上了一副生气勃勃的面孔，散发出了房子主人所喜爱的芳香，透露出使他心满意足的光线。当伯爵到来的时候，他只要一伸手就可以摸到他的书和武器；他的目光可以停留在他心爱的绘画上；他所宠爱的狗会摇头摆尾地在前厅欢迎他；小鸟们那悦耳的歌声也使他非常高兴；于是，这座从长眠中醒来的房子，就象森林里睡美人所在的宫殿般顿时活跃了起来，鸟儿歌唱，花儿盛开，就象那些我们曾流连过很久，当不得不离开的时候，以致把我们灵魂的一部分留在了那所房子里一样，仆人们也高高兴兴地在前庭穿来穿去的；有些是在厨房里干活的，他们飘然地滑下前一天才修好的楼梯，就好象在这座房子里已住了一辈子似的；有些是车房里干活的，那儿有一箱箱编了号的马车备用，看起来就象是已在那儿至少安放了五十年似的，在马厩里，马夫在同马说着话，他们的态度比许多仆人对待他们的主人还要恭敬得多，而马则用嘶鸣来回答。 
书房里有将近二千册书，分别排在房间的两边。一边完全是近代的传奇小说，甚至前一天刚出版的新书也可以在这一排金色和红色封面所组成的庄严的行列中找到。书房对面是温室，里面摆满了盛开着奇花异草的瓷花盆；在这间色香奇妙的花房中央，有一张弹子台，弹球还在绒布上，显然刚刚有人玩过的。只有一个房间贝尔图乔没有改动。这个房间位于二楼左边的角上，前面有一座宽大的楼梯，后面还有一座暗梯可以上下，仆人们每当经过这个房间时都不免要好奇，而贝尔图乔往往产生恐怖感。五点整，伯爵来到了欧特伊别墅，他后面跟着阿里，贝尔图乔带着不耐烦和不安的心情在期待着他的到来，他希望能得到几声赞许，但同时又恐怕遭到斥责。基督山在前庭下了车，到花园里去绕了一圈，又在屋子里到处走了一遍，一句话也没说，脸上既未显示出赞许，也没显示出不悦的神色。他的卧室就在那个关闭着的房间的对面，他一踏进卧室，就指着他初次来看房子时就已注意到的那张花梨木小桌子的抽屉说道：“那个地方至少可以用来放我的手套。” 
“大人想把它打开来看一下吗？”贝尔图乔高兴地说道，“您可以在里面找到一副手套的。” 
在其他各种家具里，伯爵都找到了他所要找一切——嗅瓶、雪茄、珍玩。“很好！”他说道。于是贝尔图乔就喜不自禁地退了出去。伯爵对于他周围所有人的影响就是这样的强大。 
六点整，大门口响起了得得的马蹄声，是那位驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵上尉，他是骑着米狄亚来的。基督山含笑在门口等候他。 
“我就知道一定是我第一个到，”莫雷尔大声说，“我是有意要比别人早一分钟到您这儿的。尤利和埃曼纽埃尔托我向您有意万分地道歉。啊，这儿可真漂亮！但请告诉我，伯爵，您有人照料我的马吗？” 
“放心好了，亲爱的马西米兰，他们知道该怎么做。” 
“我的意思是它得蹓跶一下。噢，您没看到它跑得有多快，就象一阵风！” 
“我能想象得出来。毕竟是一匹值五千法郎的马哪！”基督山用慈父对儿子说话的口吻说道。 
“您有点懊悔了吧？”莫雷尔问道，并豪爽地大笑起来。 
“我？当然不！”伯爵回答说。“不，假如那匹马不好，我倒是要懊悔的。” 
“好得很呢，夏多·勒诺先生和德布雷先生骑的都是部长的阿拉伯马，夏多·勒诺先生还是法国最好的骑手之一呢，可我把他们都抛在后面了。他们的脚跟后面紧随着腾格拉尔夫人的马，而她总是以每小时十八哩的速度疾驰的。” 
“那么说他们就跟在您的后面吗？”基督山问。 
“瞧！他们来啦！”这时，只见两匹鼻子里喷着气的马拉着一辆马车，由两位骑在马上的绅士陪伴着，驰到了那敞开着的大门口。马车一直赶到台阶前面才停住，后面是那两位骑在马上的绅士。德布雷脚一点地，便站在了车门前面，他伸手给男爵夫人，男爵夫人便扶着他的手下了车，她扶手时的态度有点异样，这一点只有基督山才觉察得到的。真的，什么也逃不过伯爵的眼睛。他注意到一张小纸条从腾格拉尔夫人的手里塞进了部长秘书手里，塞得极其熟练，证明这个动作是常做的。腾格拉尔夫人的后面出来了那位银行家，只见他的脸色很苍白，好象他不是从马车里出来而是从坟墓里出来的似的。腾格拉尔夫人向四周急速并探询地望了一眼。只有基督山一个人能看懂这一个眼的意义。她在用她的眼光拥抱前庭、廊柱和房子的正面；然后，压制住内心微微的激动，不让脸色变白，以免被人识破，她走上了台阶，对莫雷尔说道：“阁下，假如您是我的朋友的话，我想问问您愿不愿意把您的那匹马卖给我。” 
莫雷尔极为难地微笑了一下，转向基督山，象是祈求他来解救自己似的。伯爵直到懂得了他的意思。“啊，夫人！”他说道，“您干嘛来向我提这个要求？” 
“向您提，阁下，”男爵夫人答道，那是没必要的，因为一定会得到的。假如莫雷尔先生也是这样的话——” 
“不幸得很，”伯爵答道，“莫雷尔先生是不能放弃他那匹马的，因为马的去留和他的名誉密切相关，这事我是见证人。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“他跟人打了赌，说要在六个月之内驯服米狄亚。您现在懂了吧，假如他在那个期限以前把它卖了，他不仅要损失那笔赌注，而且人家还会说他胆小，一个勇敢的骑兵队长是决不能忍受这一点的，即使是为了满足一个美丽的女子的愿望。当然，我也认为满足一个美丽的女子的愿望是天底下最神圣的义务之一。” 
“您知道我的处境了吧，夫人。”莫雷尔说道，并感激地向伯爵微微一笑。 
“要我说，”腾格拉尔说道，脸上虽勉强带着微笑，但仍掩饰不了他语气的粗鲁，“你的马已够多的了。” 
腾格拉尔夫人以往是极少肯轻易放过这种话的，但使那些青年人惊奇的是：这次她竟假装没听见，什么也没说。基督山看到她一反常态，竟能忍气吞声，就微笑了一下，指给她看两只硕大无比的瓷瓶，瓷瓶上布满了精细的海生植物，那显然不是人工加上去的。男爵夫人很是惊奇。“咦，”她说道，您可以把杜伊勒里宫的栗子树都种在那里啦！这么大的瓷瓶是怎么造出来的？” 
“啊，夫人！”基督山答道，“对这个问题我们是无法回答您的，因为我们这一代人只会造些小摆饰和玻璃麻纱。这是古物，是用水土之精华构成的。” 
“怎么？这是哪个朝代的事呢？” 
“我也不晓得。只听说，中国有个皇帝造了一座窑，在这座窖里烧制出了十二只这样的瓷瓶。其中有两只因为火力太猛而破裂了，其余十只全被沉到了两百丈深的海底里，海是了解人们对她的要求的，因为就用海草掩盖了它们，用珊瑚环绕着它们，用贝壳来粘附着它们，这十只瓷瓶就在那几乎深不可达的海底世界里躺了两百年。后来，由于一场革命革掉了那个想作这种试验的皇帝，只剩下一些文件可以证明瓷瓶的制造以及把它们沉入了海底这回事。过了两百年，人们找到了那些文件，于是就想到要去把那些瓷瓶捞起来。他们特地派人潜入那个沉瓶的海底里去寻找，但十只之中只剩下了三只，其余的则都被海浪冲破了。我很喜欢这些瓷瓶，因为或许曾有狰狞可怕的妖怪的目光凝视过它们，而无数小鱼也曾睡在那里面以逃避天敌的追捕。” 
这时，腾格拉尔对这些奇古怪的事不感兴趣，正机械地在那儿把一棵桔子树上盛开着的花一朵一朵地扯下来。扯完了桔子花，他又去撕仙人掌，但这东西可不象桔子树那么容易扯，所以他被厉害地刺了一下。他不禁打了个寒颤，抹了抹眼睛，象是刚从一场梦中醒来似的。 
“阁下，”基督山对他说道，“我不敢向您推荐我的画，因为您有很多珍品，但这儿有几幅还是值得看一下的，两幅荷比马的，一幅保罗·保特的，一幅是米里斯的，两幅琪拉特的，一幅拉斐尔的，一幅范代克的，一幅朱巴兰的，还有两、三幅是穆里罗斯的。” 
“慢来！”德布雷说道，“荷比马的这幅画我认得。” 
“啊，真的！” 
“是的，有人曾把它卖给博物馆。” 
“我相信博物馆里是没有这幅的吧？”基督山说道。 
“没有，他们不肯买。” 
“为什么？”夏多·勒诺问。 
“你别装得不知道了，因为政府没有钱呀。” 
“啊，对不起！”夏多·勒诺说，“最近八年来，我几乎每天都听到这种话，可我到现在还是不懂。” 
“你慢慢就会懂的。”德布雷。 
“我看不见得。”夏多·勒诺回答。 
“巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校和安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵到！”巴浦斯汀在通报。 
系着一条刚从裁缝手里接过来的黑缎子领巾，灰色的胡须，一对金鱼眼，一套挂着三个勋章和五个十字奖章的少校制服，这些的确都显示出了一个老军人的派头。这就是巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂，我们已经结识过的那位慈父的仪表。紧靠在他旁边，从头到脚穿着一身新的，满面笑容的，是我们也认识的那位孝子——安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵。三个青年人本来在一起谈话。两位新客一进来，他们的目光就从那父亲瞟到了儿子，然后很自然地停在了后者的身上，并开始对他议论起来。 
“卡瓦尔康蒂！”德布雷说。 
“好响亮的名字！”莫雷尔说。 
“是的，”夏多·勒诺说，”德布雷答道，“这套衣服剪裁得很合体，而且也很新。” 
“我觉得糟就糟在这一点上。那位先生看来象是平生第一次穿好衣服似的。” 
“这两位先生是谁？”腾格拉尔问基督山。 
“没听到吗——卡瓦尔康蒂。” 
“可那只告诉了他们的姓。” 
“啊，不错！您不了解意大利贵族，卡瓦尔康蒂这一家族是亲王的后裔。” 
“他们有钱吗？” 
“多极了。” 
“他们干些什么呢？” 
“他们花钱，把钱都花光。我好象记得，前天他们告诉过我，说有些事情要跟您接洽。今天我实在是为了您才请他们来的。我一会儿给你们介绍一下。” 
“可他们的法语倒说得非常纯正呀。”腾格拉尔说。 
“那年轻人是在南部的某个大学里受过教育的。可能在马赛吧，我相，要不然也是在那附近某个地方。您一会儿就知道了，他可是很热情的。” 
“对什么热情？”腾格拉尔夫人问。 
“对法国的太太小姐们，夫人。他决心要在巴黎娶一位太太。” 
“这个念头想得倒美！”腾格拉尔耸耸肩说道。 
“腾格拉尔夫人瞟了她丈夫一眼，在别的时候，这种目光无疑是一场风波的预兆，但她又一次克制住了自己。 
“男爵今天看来有点心不在焉的样子，”基督山对她说道，“他们要推荐他入内阁了吗？” 
“还没有吧，我想。他多半是因为在证券交易所里搞投机输了钱的缘故。” 
“维尔福先生偕夫人到！”巴浦斯汀喊道。 
“那两个人进来了。维尔福先生虽极力自制着，但他的神色明显地很不自然，当基督山和他握手的时候，他觉得那只手有点颤抖。“的确，只有女人才知道怎么装模作样。”他自己心里说，同时瞟了一眼腾格拉尔夫人，腾格拉尔夫人此时正在对检察官微笑，然后他拥抱了一下他的妻子。过了一会儿，伯爵看到贝尔图乔踏进了隔壁房间里（在这之前，贝尔图乔始终都在另外几个房间里忙碌着）。伯爵走到他跟前。 
“你有什么事，贝尔图乔先生？”他说。 
“大人还没讲明有几位客人呢。” 
“啊，不错！” 
“要用几副刀叉？” 
“你自己数吧。” 
“所有的人都到了吗，大人？” 
“是的。” 
贝尔图乔从半开着的门里瞧进去。伯爵有意地观察着他的表情。“天哪！”只见他惊叫道。 
“什么事？”伯爵问道。 
“那个女人！那个女人！” 
“哪一个？” 
“那个穿白衣服，戴那么多钻石的，那个白皮肤的。” 
“腾格拉尔夫人？” 
“我不知道她的名字，是她，大人，就是她！” 
“是谁呀？” 
“花园里的那个女人。她就是那个孕妇，那个一边散步、一边等候”贝尔图乔呆立在那半开着的门口，瞪着眼，头发直竖了起来。 
“等候谁？” 
“贝尔图乔没有回答，只是用麦克白斯指着班柯［麦克白斯和班柯都是英国戏剧家莎士比的悲剧《麦克白斯》里的人物。——译注］时的那种姿势指了指维尔福。“噢，噢！”他终于结结巴巴地说，“您看见了吗？” 
“看见了什么？”谁呀？” 
“他！” 
“他！维尔福先生，那位检察官？我当然看得见他。” 
“那么我没杀死他！” 
“真的，我看你快要发疯啦，好贝尔图乔。”伯爵说道。 
“那么说他没死！” 
“没有，你现在分明看到了他并没死。你的同胞们刺人总是刺在第六和第七条肋骨之间，你当时一定刺得不是太高就是太低了，而这些吃法律饭的人，他们都很命大。当然，也许你告诉我的那些话根本就不是事实，而是你想象中的一幕幻景或是幻想出来的一场梦。当你满怀着复仇的念头去睡觉时，那些念头重重地压住了你的胸口，于是你就做了一场恶梦，仅此而已。不，镇定一点，算算看：维尔福先生夫妇，两个。加上腾格拉尔先生夫妇，四个。再加上夏多·勒诺先生、德布雷先生、莫雷尔先生，七个。还有巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校，八个。” 
“八个！”贝尔图乔跟着说。 
“别忙！你急着想走开，可忘了我的一位贵宾啦。往左面靠过去一点。喏！瞧一下安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生，就是穿黑色上装的那位青年人，他现在转过身来了。” 
这一次，要不是基督山用目光阻止了他，贝尔图乔一定会大声惊叫起来的。“贝尼代托！”他喃喃地说道：“天数啊！” 
“六点半刚才敲过了，贝尔图乔先生，”伯爵严厉地说道，“曾吩咐过这个时候开宴的，我可不愿意多等。”于是他回到了他的客人那儿，贝尔图乔在墙上靠了一会儿，勉强回到了餐厅里。五分钟过后，客厅的门大开，贝尔图乔象尚蒂伊的瓦代尔［瓦代尔是贡德公爵的管家，一次，公爵在尚蒂伊宴请路易十四，他因为未能将鲜海鱼及时送上，感到羞愧而鼓足最后的勇气拔剑自刎。——译注］一样，鼓足最后的勇气说道：“禀告伯爵阁下，酒席准备好了。” 
基督山伯爵把他的胳膊伸给了维尔福夫人。“维尔福先生，”他说，“请您引导腾格拉尔男爵夫人好吗？” 
维尔福从命，于是他们转到了餐厅里。 
Chapter 63 The Dinner
 IT WAS evident that one sentiment affected all the guests on entering the dining-room. Each one asked what strange influence had brought them to this house, and yet astonished, even uneasy though they were, they still felt that they would not like to be absent. The recent events, the solitary and eccentric position of the count, his enormous, nay, almost incredible fortune, should have made men cautious, and have altogether prevented ladies visiting a house where there was no one of their own sex to receive them; and yet curiosity had been enough to lead them to overleap the bounds of prudence and decorum. And all present, even including Cavalcanti and his son, notwithstanding the stiffness of the one and the carelessness of the other, were thoughtful, on finding themselves assembled at the house of this incomprehensible man. Madame Danglars had started when Villefort, on the count's invitation, offered his arm; and Villefort felt that his glance was uneasy beneath his gold spectacles, when he felt the arm of the baroness press upon his own. None of this had escaped the count, and even by this mere contact of individuals the scene had already acquired considerable interest for an observer. M. de Villefort had on the right hand Madame Danglars, on his left Morrel. The count was seated between Madame de Villefort and Danglars; the other seats were filled by Debray, who was placed between the two Cavalcanti, and by Chateau-Renaud, seated between Madame de Villefort and Morrel. 
The repast was magnificent; Monte Cristo had endeavored completely to overturn the Parisian ideas, and to feed the curiosity as much as the appetite of his guests. It was an Oriental feast that he offered to them, but of such a kind as the Arabian fairies might be supposed to prepare. Every delicious fruit that the four quarters of the globe could provide was heaped in vases from China and jars from Japan. Rare birds, retaining their most brilliant plumage, enormous fish, spread upon massive silver dishes, together with every wine produced in the Archipelago, Asia Minor, or the Cape, sparkling in bottles, whose grotesque shape seemed to give an additional flavor to the draught,--all these, like one of the displays with which Apicius of old gratified his guests, passed in review before the eyes of the astonished Parisians, who understood that it was possible to expend a thousand louis upon a dinner for ten persons, but only on the condition of eating pearls, like Cleopatra, or drinking refined gold, like Lorenzo de' Medici. 
Monte Cristo noticed the general astonishment, and began laughing and joking about it. "Gentlemen," he said, "you will admit that, when arrived at a certain degree of fortune, the superfluities of life are all that can be desired; and the ladies will allow that, after having risen to a certain eminence of position, the ideal alone can be more exalted. Now, to follow out this reasoning, what is the marvellous?--that which we do not understand. What is it that we really desire?--that which we cannot obtain. Now, to see things which I cannot understand, to procure impossibilities, these are the study of my life. I gratify my wishes by two means--my will and my money. I take as much interest in the pursuit of some whim as you do, M. Danglars, in promoting a new railway line; you, M. de Villefort, in condemning a culprit to death; you, M. Debray, in pacifying a kingdom; you, M. de Chateau-Renaud, in pleasing a woman; and you, Morrel, in breaking a horse that no one can ride. For example, you see these two fish; one brought fifty leagues beyond St. Petersburg, the other five leagues from Naples. Is it not amusing to see them both on the same table?" 
"What are the two fish?" asked Danglars. 
"M. Chateau-Renaud, who has lived in Russia, will tell you the name of one, and Major Cavalcanti, who is an Italian, will tell you the name of the other." 
"This one is, I think, a sterlet," said Chateau-Renaud. 
"And that one, if I mistake not, a lamprey." 
"Just so. Now, M. Danglars, ask these gentlemen where they are caught." 
"Starlets," said Chateau-Renaud, "are only found in the Volga." 
"And," said Cavalcanti, "I know that Lake Fusaro alone supplies lampreys of that size." 
"Exactly; one comes from the Volga, and the other from Lake Fusaro." 
"Impossible!" cried all the guests simultaneously. 
"Well, this is just what amuses me," said Monte Cristo. "I am like Nero--cupitor impossibilium; and that is what is amusing you at this moment. This fish, which seems so exquisite to you, is very likely no better than perch or salmon; but it seemed impossible to procure it, and here it is." 
"But how could you have these fish brought to France?" 
"Oh, nothing more easy. Each fish was brought over in a cask--one filled with river herbs and weeds, the other with rushes and lake plants; they were placed in a wagon built on purpose, and thus the sterlet lived twelve days, the lamprey eight, and both were alive when my cook seized them, killing one with milk and the other with wine. You do not believe me, M. Danglars!" 
"I cannot help doubting," answered Danglars with his stupid smile. 
"Baptistin," said the count, "have the other fish brought in--the sterlet and the lamprey which came in the other casks, and which are yet alive." Danglars opened his bewildered eyes; the company clapped their hands. Four servants carried in two casks covered with aquatic plants, and in each of which was breathing a fish similar to those on the table. 
"But why have two of each sort?" asked Danglars. 
"Merely because one might have died," carelessly answered Monte Cristo. 
"You are certainly an extraordinary man," said Danglars; "and philosophers may well say it is a fine thing to be rich." 
"And to have ideas," added Madame Danglars. 
"Oh, do not give me credit for this, madame; it was done by the Romans, who much esteemed them, and Pliny relates that they sent slaves from Ostia to Rome, who carried on their heads fish which he calls the mulus, and which, from the description, must probably be the goldfish. It was also considered a luxury to have them alive, it being an amusing sight to see them die, for, when dying, they change color three or four times, and like the rainbow when it disappears, pass through all the prismatic shades, after which they were sent to the kitchen. Their agony formed part of their merit--if they were not seen alive, they were despised when dead." 
"Yes," said Debray, "but then Ostia is only a few leagues from Rome." 
"True," said Monte Cristo; "but what would be the use of living eighteen hundred years after Lucullus. if we can do no better than he could?" The two Cavalcanti opened their enormous eyes, but had the good sense not to say anything. "All this is very extraordinary," said Chateau-Renaud; "still, what I admire the most, I confess, is the marvellous promptitude with which your orders are executed. Is it not true that you only bought this house five or six days ago?" 
"Certainly not longer." 
"Well, I am sure it is quite transformed since last week. If I remember rightly, it had another entrance, and the court-yard was paved and empty; while to-day we have a splendid lawn, bordered by trees which appear to be a hundred years old." 
"Why not? I am fond of grass and shade," said Monte Cristo. 
"Yes," said Madame de Villefort, "the door was towards the road before, and on the day of my miraculous escape you brought me into the house from the road, I remember." 
"Yes, madame," said Monte Cristo; "but I preferred having an entrance which would allow me to see the Bois de Boulogne over my gate." 
"In four days," said Morrel; "it is extraordinary!" 
"Indeed," said Chateau-Renaud, "it seems quite miraculous to make a new house out of an old one; for it was very old, and dull too. I recollect coming for my mother to look at it when M. de Saint-Méran advertised it for sale two or three years ago." 
"M. de Saint-Méran?" said Madame de Villefort; "then this house belonged to M. de Saint-Méran before you bought it?" 
"It appears so," replied Monte Cristo. 
"Is it possible that you do not know of whom you purchased it?" 
"Quite so; my steward transacts all this business for me." 
"It is certainly ten years since the house had been occupied," said Chateau-Renaud, "and it was quite melancholy to look at it, with the blinds closed, the doors locked, and the weeds in the court. Really, if the house had not belonged to the father-in-law of the procureur, one might have thought it some accursed place where a horrible crime had been committed." Villefort, who had hitherto not tasted the three or four glasses of rare wine which were placed before him, here took one, and drank it off. Monte Cristo allowed a short time to elapse, and then said, "It is singular, baron, but the same idea came across me the first time I came here; it looked so gloomy I should never have bought it if my steward had not taken the matter into his own hands. Perhaps the fellow had been bribed by the notary." 
"It is probable," stammered out Villefort, trying to smile; "but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with any such proceeding. This house is part of Valentine's marriage-portion, and M. de Saint-Méran wished to sell it; for if it had remained another year or two uninhabited it would have fallen to ruin." It was Morrel's turn to become pale. 
"There was, above all, one room," continued Monte Cristo, "very plain in appearance, hung with red damask, which, I know not why, appeared to me quite dramatic." 
"Why so?" said Danglars; "why dramatic?" 
"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte Cristo. "Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness?--why, we cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections--an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places--which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place. And there is something in this room which reminds me forcibly of the chamber of the Marquise de Ganges or Desdemona. Stay, since we have finished dinner, I will show it to you, and then we will take coffee in the garden. After dinner, the play." Monte Cristo looked inquiringly at his guests. Madame de Villefort rose, Monte Cristo did the same, and the rest followed their example. Villefort and Madame Danglars remained for a moment, as if rooted to their seats; they questioned each other with vague and stupid glances. "Did you hear?" said Madame Danglars. 
"We must go," replied Villefort, offering his arm. The others, attracted by curiosity, were already scattered in different parts of the house; for they thought the visit would not be limited to the one room, and that, at the same time, they would obtain a view of the rest of the building, of which Monte Cristo had created a palace. Each one went out by the open doors. Monte Cristo waited for the two who remained; then, when they had passed, he brought up the rear, and on his face was a smile, which, if they could have understood it, would have alarmed them much more than a visit to the room they were about to enter. They began by walking through the apartments, many of which were fitted up in the Eastern style, with cushions and divans instead of beds, and pipes instead of furniture. The drawing-rooms were decorated with the rarest pictures by the old masters, the boudoirs hung with draperies from China, of fanciful colors, fantastic design, and wonderful texture. At length they arrived at the famous room. There was nothing particular about it, excepting that, although daylight had disappeared, it was not lighted, and everything in it was old-fashioned, while the rest of the rooms had been redecorated. These two causes were enough to give it a gloomy aspect. "Oh." cried Madame de Villefort, "it is really frightful." Madame Danglars tried to utter a few words, but was not heard. Many observations were made, the import of which was a unanimous opinion that there was something sinister about the room. "Is it not so?" asked Monte Cristo. "Look at that large clumsy bed, hung with such gloomy, blood-colored drapery! And those two crayon portraits, that have faded from the dampness; do they not seem to say, with their pale lips and staring eyes, 'We have seen'?" Villefort became livid; Madame Danglars fell into a long seat placed near the chimney. "Oh," said Madame de Villefort, smiling, "are you courageous enough to sit down upon the very seat perhaps upon which the crime was committed?" Madame Danglars rose suddenly. 
"And then," said Monte Cristo, "this is not all." 
"What is there more?" said Debray, who had not failed to notice the agitation of Madame Danglars. 
"Ah, what else is there?" said Danglars; "for, at present, I cannot say that I have seen anything extraordinary. What do you say, M. Cavalcanti?" 
"Ah," said he, "we have at Pisa, Ugolino's tower; at Ferrara, Tasso's prison; at Rimini, the room of Francesca and Paolo." 
"Yes, but you have not this little staircase," said Monte Cristo, opening a door concealed by the drapery. "Look at it, and tell me what you think of it." 
"What a wicked-looking, crooked staircase," said Chateau-Renaud with a smile. 
"I do not know whether the wine of Chios produces melancholy, but certainly everything appears to me black in this house," said Debray. 
Ever since Valentine's dowry had been mentioned, Morrel had been silent and sad. "Can you imagine," said Monte Cristo, "some Othello or Abbé de Ganges, one stormy, dark night, descending these stairs step by step, carrying a load, which he wishes to hide from the sight of man, if not from God?" Madame Danglars half fainted on the arm of Villefort, who was obliged to support himself against the wall. "Ah, madame," cried Debray, "what is the matter with you? how pale you look!" 
"It is very evident what is the matter with her," said Madame de Villefort; "M. de Monte Cristo is relating horrible stories to us, doubtless intending to frighten us to death." 
"Yes," said Villefort, "really, count, you frighten the ladies." 
"What is the matter?" asked Debray, in a whisper, of Madame Danglars. 
"Nothing," she replied with a violent effort. "I want air, that is all." 
"Will you come into the garden?" said Debray, advancing towards the back staircase. 
"No, no," she answered, "I would rather remain here." 
"Are you really frightened, madame?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Oh, no, sir," said Madame Danglars; "but you suppose scenes in a manner which gives them the appearance of reality " 
"Ah, yes," said Monte Cristo smiling; "it is all a matter of imagination. Why should we not imagine this the apartment of an honest mother? And this bed with red hangings, a bed visited by the goddess Lucina? And that mysterious staircase, the passage through which, not to disturb their sleep, the doctor and nurse pass, or even the father carrying the sleeping child?" Here Madame Danglars, instead of being calmed by the soft picture, uttered a groan and fainted. "Madame Danglars is ill," said Villefort; "it would be better to take her to her carriage." 
"Oh, mon Dieu," said Monte Cristo, "and I have forgotten my smelling-bottle!" 
"I have mine," said Madame de Villefort; and she passed over to Monte Cristo a bottle full of the same kind of red liquid whose good properties the count had tested on Edward. 
"Ah," said Monte Cristo, taking it from her hand. 
"Yes," she said, "at your advice I have made the trial." 
"And have you succeeded?" 
"I think so." 
Madame Danglars was carried into the adjoining room; Monte Cristo dropped a very small portion of the red liquid upon her lips; she returned to consciousness. "Ah," she cried, "what a frightful dream!" 
Villefort pressed her hand to let her know it was not a dream. They looked for M. Danglars, but, as he was not especially interested in poetical ideas, he had gone into the garden, and was talking with Major Cavalcanti on the projected railway from Leghorn to Florence. Monte Cristo seemed in despair. He took the arm of Madame Danglars, and conducted her into the garden, where they found Danglars taking coffee between the Cavalcanti. "Really, madame," he said, "did I alarm you much?" 
"Oh, no, sir," she answered; "but you know, things impress us differently, according to the mood of our minds." Villefort forced a laugh. "And then, you know," he said, "an idea, a supposition, is sufficient." 
"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you may believe me if you like, but it is my opinion that a crime has been committed in this house." 
"Take care," said Madame de Villefort, "the king's attorney is here." 
"Ah," replied Monte Cristo, "since that is the case, I will take advantage of his presence to make my declaration." 
"Your declaration?" said Villefort. 
"Yes, before witnesses." 
"Oh, this is very interesting," said Debray; "if there really has been a crime, we will investigate it." 
"There has been a crime," said Monte Cristo. "Come this way, gentlemen; come, M. Villefort, for a declaration to be available, should be made before the competent authorities." He then took Villefort's arm, and, at the same time, holding that of Madame Danglars under his own, he dragged the procureur to the plantain-tree, where the shade was thickest. All the other guests followed. "Stay," said Monte Cristo, "here, in this very spot" (and he stamped upon the ground), "I had the earth dug up and fresh mould put in, to refresh these old trees; well, my man, digging, found a box, or rather, the iron-work of a box, in the midst of which was the skeleton of a newly born infant." Monte Cristo felt the arm of Madame Danglars stiffen, while that of Villefort trembled. "A newly born infant," repeated Debray; "this affair becomes serious!" 
"Well," said Chateau-Renaud, "I was not wrong just now then, when I said that houses had souls and faces like men, and that their exteriors carried the impress of their characters. This house was gloomy because it was remorseful: it was remorseful because it concealed a crime." 
"Who said it was a crime?" asked Villefort, with a last effort. 
"How? is it not a crime to bury a living child in a garden?" cried Monte Cristo. "And pray what do you call such an action?" 
"But who said it was buried alive?" 
"Why bury it there if it were dead? This garden has never been a cemetery." 
"What is done to infanticides in this country?" asked Major Cavalcanti innocently. 
"Oh, their heads are soon cut off," said Danglars. 
"Ah, indeed?" said Cavalcanti. 
"I think so; am I not right, M. de Villefort?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"Yes, count," replied Villefort, in a voice now scarcely human. 
Monte Cristo, seeing that the two persons for whom he had prepared this scene could scarcely endure it, and not wishing to carry it too far, said, "Come, gentlemen,--some coffee, we seem to have forgotten it," and he conducted the guests back to the table on the lawn. 
"Indeed, count," said Madame Danglars, "I am ashamed to own it, but all your frightful stories have so upset me, that I must beg you to let me sit down;" and she fell into a chair. Monte Cristo bowed, and went to Madame de Villefort. "I think Madame Danglars again requires your bottle," he said. But before Madame de Villefort could reach her friend the procureur had found time to whisper to Madame Danglars, "I must speak to you." 
"When?" 
"To-morrow." 
"Where?" 
"In my office, or in the court, if you like,--that is the surest place." 
"I will be there."--At this moment Madame de Villefort approached. "Thanks, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, trying to smile; "it is over now, and I am much better."  
来宾们一踏进餐厅，大家显然都有某种感触。每个人都在心里自问，究竟是什么神奇的力量把他们带到这座房子里来的；可是，尽管他们惊奇，甚至不安，他们却依旧觉得不愿意离开。考虑到伯爵的社会关系，他那种怪癖孤独的地位，以及他那惊人的，几乎难以令人置信的财产，男人们似乎应该对他有所警惕，而女人们则似乎应该觉得不适宜于走进一座没有女主人出来招待她们的房子，但这些男人和女人们都突破了审慎和传统的心里防线；好奇心不可抗拒地占了上风。 
就连卡瓦尔康蒂和他的儿子（前者古板，后者轻浮，两个人也都不明白这次受邀请的用意）也和他们初次见面的那些人有着同样的感触。腾格拉尔夫人呢。当维尔福在伯爵的敦促之下把他的胳膊伸给她时候，不由得吃了一惊；而维尔福，当他感觉到男爵夫人的手挽上他自己的胳膊的时候，也觉得浑身有点不自在，自己的眼光也有点不安。这一切都没逃过伯爵的眼睛；仅以所接触的这些人物来讲，这个场面在一个旁观者眼里已经是够有趣的了。维尔福先生的右边是腾格拉尔夫人，他的左边是莫雷尔。伯爵坐在维尔福夫人和腾格拉尔之间，德布雷坐在卡瓦尔康蒂父子之间；夏多·勒诺则坐在维尔福夫人和莫雷尔之间。 
席面上摆设得极其丰盛，基督山完全清除了巴黎式的情调，与其说他要喂饱他的客人，倒不如说他想喂饱了他们的好奇心更确切一些。他推出的是一桌东方式的酒席，而这种东方式的酒席也只有在阿拉伯童话故事里才会有。中国碟子和日本瓷盘里堆满着世界各地的四季鲜果。大银盆里盛着硕大无比的鱼；各种珍禽的身上依旧还保留着它们最鲜艳夺目的羽毛，外加各种美酒，有爱琴海出产的，小亚细亚出产的，好望角出产的，都装在奇形怪状的闪闪发光的瓶子里，似乎更增加了酒的香甜纯美。这一切，就象阿辟古斯［阿辟古斯是古代罗马奥古斯都时代的美食家。——译注］招待他宾客时一样，一齐罗列在了这些巴黎人的面前。他们知道：花一千路易来请十个人吃一顿原也是可能的，但那就得象喀丽奥伯德拉那样吃珍珠或象梅迪契那样喝金水才行。基督山注意到了大家那惊愕的表情，就戏谑地笑谈起来。“诸位先生，他说，“你们大概也承认，当一个人有了相当程度的财产以后，奢侈生活就成了必需的了。而太太们想必也承认当一个人，有了相当优越的地位以后，他的理想也才会越高。现在，站在这一种立场上来推测，什么东西才能称其为奇妙呢？那就是我们无法了解的东西。而什么东西才是我们真正想要的呢？就是我们无法得到的东西，嗯，研究我无法了解的事物，得到无法得到的东西，这就是我生活的目标。我是用两种工具来达到我的希望的——我的意志和我的金钱。我所追求的目标和诸位的有所不同，譬如您，腾格拉尔先生，希望修建一条新的铁路线，而您，维尔福先生，希望判处一个犯人死刑，您，德布雷先生，希望平定一个王国，您，夏多·勒诺先生，希望取悦一个女人，而您，莫雷尔，希望驯服一匹没有哪个人敢骑的马。尽管我们所追求的目标不同，但我追求我的目标的兴趣，却并不亚于你们。譬如说，请看这两条鱼吧。这一条从圣·彼得堡一百五十哩以外的地方买来的，那一条是在那不勒斯十五哩以内的地方买来的。现在看到它们摆在同一张桌子上，不很有趣吗？” 
“这是两条什么鱼？”腾格拉尔问。 
“夏多·勒诺先生曾在俄罗斯住过，想必他可以告诉您这条鱼的名字的。”基督山回答，“卡瓦尔康蒂少校是意大利人，想必他可以告诉您那一条的名字。” 
“这一条，我想，是小蝶鲛。”夏多·勒诺说道。” 
“而那一条，”卡瓦尔康蒂说，“假如我没认错的话，是蓝鳗。” 
“正是。现在，腾格拉尔先生，问问这两位先生它们是从哪儿捉到的吧。” 
“小蝶鲛，”夏多·勒诺说，“只有在伏尔加河里才找得到。” 
  
  
“我知道，”卡瓦尔康蒂说，“只有富莎乐湖里才出产这么大的蓝鳗。” 
“对，一条是从伏尔加河里打来的，一条是从富莎乐湖里捉来的，一点都不差。” 
“不可能的！”来宾们齐声喊道。 
“嗯，我觉得有趣的地方在这里，”基督山说道。“我就象尼罗王——一个‘不可能’的追求者，而你们现在觉得有趣也正因为如此。这种鱼，大概实际上并不比鲈鱼更好吃，但你们却好象觉得它很鲜美，那是因为你们觉得是不可能得到它的，而它却意想不到地在席上出现了。” 
“您是怎么把这些鱼运到法国来的呢？” 
“噢，那再容易不过了。把鱼分装在木桶里运。这只桶里装些河草，另一只桶里装些湖苹，然后把这些桶再装在一辆特制的大车上。这样，那小蝶鲛就活了十二天，蓝鳗活了八天。当我的厨子抓它们的时候，它们还活蹦乱跳的，他就用牛奶闷死了小蝶鲛，用酒醉死了蓝鳗，您不相信吧，腾格拉尔先生！” 
“是有点怀疑。”腾格拉尔傻呼呼的笑着回答。 
“巴浦斯汀，”伯爵吩咐道，“去把鱼拿来。就是养在桶里的那些活的小蝶鲛和蓝鳗。”腾格拉尔睁着一双迷惑的眼睛，其余的来宾也都紧握着双手。只见四个仆人扛着两只水面上浮着藻类植物的木桶走了进来，每只木桶里悠然地游着一条与席上同样的鱼。 
“可为什么每样两条呢？”腾格拉尔问。 
“只因为一条也许会死的。”基督山漫不经心地回答。 
“您真是位奇人，”腾格拉尔说，“哲学家也许又可以振振有词地说了，有钱是一件可庆幸之事。” 
“还得有脑筋。”腾格拉尔夫人加上了一句。 
“噢，可别给我加上那种荣誉，夫人。这种事在罗马人眼里是很普通的。普林尼［普林尼（六二—一一三），罗马作家——译注］的书上曾说过，他们常常派奴隶头顶着活鱼从奥斯蒂亚运到罗马，他们把那种鱼叫作‘墨露斯’，从他的描写上来判断，大概就是鲷鱼。他们认为吃活鲷鱼也是一种奢侈。看着鲷鱼死是一件很有趣的事。因为它临死的时候，在被送进厨房以后，它会变三四次颜色，象彩虹似地依次变换。它的痛苦倒成了它的特点，假如它活着的时候没人注意，死后就不会那么了不起了。” 
“是的，”德布雷说道，“可毕竟奥斯蒂亚距罗马才只有几哩路呀。” 
“不错。”基督山说，“但我们距鲁古碌斯已有一千八百年了，假如我们不能比他更先进一步，那么做现代人还有什么好处呢？” 
两个姓卡瓦尔康蒂几乎同时都睁大了眼睛，但他们还算知趣，没说什么话。 
“这一切都是极不平凡的，”夏多·勒诺说，“而我最佩服的一点，我承认，就是他们竟能如此迅速地执行您的命令。您的这座房子不是五六天以前才买的吗？” 
“是没几天时间。” 
“我相信在这一个星期里，它已经大变了个样。假如我没记错的话，它另外还应该有一个入口，前面庭院里原是空无一物的，除了一条石子路之外，可今天我们却看到了一条美丽的青草走道，两旁的树木看起来就象是已长了一百年似的。” 
“为什么不呢？我喜欢青草和树荫。”基督山说道。 
“是的，”维尔福夫人说，“以前大门是朝着街的。我神奇地脱险的那天，您把我带进来的时候，我记得还是那样的。” 
“是的，夫人，”基督山说，“但我想换一个进口，以便从大门口一望出去就可以看见布洛涅大道。” 
“仅四天的工夫！”莫雷尔说，“这真可谓太不平凡了！” 
“的确，”夏多·勒诺说，“把一座老宅子改造成了一座新房子真是一个了不起的成就。这座房子以前很旧，很阴沉可怖。我记得前两三年以前，当圣·梅朗先生登报出售的时候，我曾代家母前来看过。 
“对·梅朗先生！”维尔福夫人说，“那么在您买这座房子以前，它是属于圣·梅朗先生的了？” 
“好象是吧。”基督山回答。 
“什么！‘好象’？难道您还不知道卖主是谁吗？” 
“不，的确不知道，这笔交易是由我的管家全权代我办理的。” 
“这座房子至少已有十年没人住过了，”夏多·勒诺说，“它外表看上去实在有点死气沉沉的，百叶窗总是都关着，门总锁着，庭园里长满了野草。真的，假如这座房子的房主不是检察官的岳父的话，人家或许会以为这里曾发生过某件可怕的罪案哩。” 
到现在为止，维尔福对放在他前面的那三四杯珍奇美酒一点也没尝过，这时，他拿起了一杯，然后一饮而尽。基督山暂时让房间里静默了一会儿，然后说道：“这真奇怪，我初次踏进这座房子的时候，也曾有过那种感觉，它看起来是这样阴森森的，要不是我的管家已代我买了下来，我是决不会要它的。也许那家伙收受了中间人的贿赂。” 
“也许是吧，”维尔福挣扎着说道，并极力想做出一点微笑来。“但请相信我，那件贿赂案跟我可毫无关系，这座房子也可以说是瓦朗蒂娜嫁妆的一部分的，圣·梅朗先生很想把它卖掉，因为再过一两年如果还不住人的话，它就会倒塌的。” 
这次可轮到莫雷尔的脸色变白了。 
“尤其是有这样一个房间，”基督山又说道，“它表面上看上去很平凡，挂着红缎子的窗帷，可是，不知为什么，我感觉得那个房间很有趣。” 
“怎么会呢？德布雷说，“怎么有趣？” 
“我们能把出于本能的感觉解释清楚吗？”基督山说，“我们在有些地方好象能呼吸到抑郁的气息，难道不是这样吗？可为什么？我们又讲不出来。只有某种持续不断的回忆或某个念头把你带回到了另一个时代，另一些方，而那多半或许和我们当时当地的情景并无什么关系。在那个房间里，总有某种什么强有力的东西使我联想到甘奇侯爵夫人［甘奇侯爵（一六三五—一六六七），法国贵族，被其丈夫的两个兄弟所谋杀。——译注］或德丝狄摩娜［莎士比亚悲剧《奥赛罗》里女主人公，被她的丈夫奥赛罗掐死。——译注］的房间。慢来！既然我们已经吃完了，还是由我来领着你们去看一下吧，看过以后我们就到花园里去喝咖啡，吃完了饭，应该去走走看看的。” 
基督山以一种询问的目光望着他的客人们。维尔福夫人站起身来，基督山也站了起来，其余的人也象他们那样做了。 
维尔福和腾格拉尔夫人则象脚下生了根似的在他们的座椅上犹豫了一会儿，他们互相以冷淡呆滞的眼光询问着对方。 
“你听到了没有？”腾格拉尔夫人似乎在说。 
“我们必须去。”维尔福好象在回答，然后伸手让她挽着。 
其他的人都已经在好奇心的驱使下分散到了各处。为他们觉得这次参观不会仅限于这一个房间的，他们同时一定也可以参观其他的地方，借此机会看一看基督山是如何把他的房子变成一座宫殿的。每个人都从那几扇打开着的门那儿出去了。基督山等着那留下来的两位，当他们也从他身边走出去的时候，他便微笑着把自己排在了这个行列的最后。维尔福和腾格拉尔夫人当然并不明白伯爵那个微笑的含义，假如他们明白的话，一定会觉得比去参观那个他们就要走进去的房间更可怕。他们穿过一个又一个的房间，大多数房间的布置充满了东方情调，椅垫和靠背长椅代替了床，各色各样的烟管代替了家具。客厅里琳琅满目地挂着古代大画师们最珍贵的杰作；女宾休息室里挂满了中国的刺绣品，色彩玄妙，花样怪诞，质地极其名贵。最后，他们走进了那个著名的房间里。这个房间乍看起并没有什么特别值得注意的地方，只不过别的房间都已重新装饰过，而这里的一切却依然照旧，而且日光虽已消逝，房间里却还没有点灯。这两点已足够使人感到一种阴森可怖的气氛了。 
“噢！”维尔福夫人喊道，“真可怕！” 
腾格拉尔夫人勉强说了句什么，但没人听清她说的是什么。大家观察的结果，一致认为这个房间的确象一个不祥之地。 
“难道不是吗？”基督山问道。“请看那张笨重的大床，挂着那顶阴气沉沉、血色的帐子！还有那两张因受潮已褪了色的粉笔人物画像，他们那苍白的嘴唇和那凝视着一切的眼睛不是象在说‘我们看到了’吗？” 
维尔福的脸色煞白，腾格拉尔夫人则倒在一张壁炉旁边的长凳上。 
“噢！”维尔福夫人微笑着说道，“您可真够大胆的了！也许那件罪案就发生在这张凳子上呢！” 
腾格拉尔夫人闻听这句话突然一下子站了起来。 
“哦，”基督山说，“事情还不仅仅如此呢。” 
“还有什么？”德布雷问到，他也已注意到了腾格拉尔夫人那种不安的神态。“啊！还有什么？”腾格拉尔也问道，“因为到目前为止，我还不能说已看到了什么特别的东西。您说吧，卡瓦尔康蒂先生？” 
“啊！他说道，“我们在比萨，有乌哥里诺塔［乌哥里诺塔是意大利比萨的暴君，被其敌人禁囚于塔内与儿孙们一起饿死了。——译注］，在弗拉拉，有达沙囚房［达沙是意大利文艺复兴诗人，住在弗拉拉，曾两次发疯遭囚禁。——译注］，在里米尼，有弗兰茜丝卡和保罗的房间［弗兰茜丝卡是十三世纪意大利有名的美人，保罗是她的情人，两人都被她的丈夫所杀。——译注］。” 
“是啊，可你们却没有这种小楼梯吧，”基督山一边说，一边打开了一扇掩在帷幕后面的门。“请过来看看吧，然后再把你们的感想告诉我。” 
“多难看的一座螺旋形楼梯。”夏多·勒诺带笑说道。 
“我不知道究竟是不是因为喝了奇奥斯酒才产生了这种悲怆的气氛，但这屋子里一切在我看来都象是阴惨惨的。”德布雷说道。 
自从听到提及瓦朗蒂娜的嫁妆以后，莫雷尔就始终满面愁容地没再说过一句话。 
“我曾经做过幻想，”基督山说道，“是否以前曾有过一个奥赛罗似的人物，在一个狂风暴雨的黑夜里，一步步地走下这座楼梯，手里抱着一个尸体，想在黑夜里把它埋掉，这样，即使瞒不过上帝的眼睛，至少希望能瞒过人的耳目，不知你们是否有同感？” 
腾格拉尔夫人一下子半晕倒在维尔福的臂弯里，维尔福本人也不得不靠在墙壁上，以支撑着他自己。 
“啊，夫人！”德布雷惊叫道，“您怎么啦？您脸色多苍白呀！” 
“怎么样？这很简单，”维尔福夫人说道，“基督山先生在给我们讲恐怖故事，无疑是想吓死我们。” 
“是啊，”维尔福说道，“真的，伯爵，您把太太们都吓坏了。” 
“怎么了？”德布雷用耳语问腾格拉尔夫人。 
“没什么，”她勉强回答说。“我想出去透透空气！没别的。” 
“我陪您到花园里去好不好？”德布雷一边说着，一边就向暗梯那边走去。 
“不，不！”她急忙说道，“我情愿呆在这儿。” 
“您真的吓坏了吗，夫人？”基督山说。 
“噢，不，阁下，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，“只不过您讲得绘声绘色的，把您想象中的情景讲述得太象真的了。” 
“啊，是的！”基督山微笑着说，“这些都只是我想象中的事情。我们为什么不能想象成这是一个贞节的良家妇女的房间，这张挂红帐子的床，是送子娘娘访问过的床，而那座神秘的楼梯，是为了避免打扰她们母子的睡眠，供医生和护士上下使用的，或者是供那做父亲的来抱睡着了的孩子使用的？” 
“听到这一幅可喜的画面，腾格拉尔夫人非但没有镇定下来，反而呻吟了一声，然后就昏了过去。 
“腾格拉尔夫人一定是病了，”维尔福说道，“还是送她回到她的马车里去吧。” 
“噢！我忘带我的嗅瓶啦！”基督山说道。 
“我这儿有。”维尔福夫人说，她拿出一只瓶子来递给了基督山，瓶子里满满地装着伯爵给爱德华尝过的那种红色药水。 
“啊！”基督山说着就从她的手里把药瓶接了过来。 
“是的，”她说道，“我遵从您的忠告已经试过了。” 
“成功了没有？” 
“我想是成功的。” 
腾格拉尔夫人已被扶到了隔壁的房间里。基督山把那种红色药水滴了极小的一滴到她的嘴唇上，她便恢复知觉了。 
“啊！”她大声说道，“多可怕的一个梦啊！” 
维尔福捏了一下她的手，让她明白这并非是一个梦。有人去找腾格拉尔先生了，因他对于这种诗意的想象不感兴趣，所以早已到花园里去和卡瓦尔康蒂少校谈论从里窝那到佛罗伦萨的修建铁路的计划去了。基督山似乎很有些失望。他挽起腾格拉尔夫人的手臂，引导她到了花园里，发觉腾格拉尔正在和那两个姓卡瓦尔康蒂的一同喝咖啡。“夫人，”他说道，“我真的吓坏了您吗？” 
“噢，没有，阁下，”她回答，“但您知道，由于我们每个人的情绪变化有所不同，所以事物对我们所产生的印象也就不同了。” 
维尔福勉强笑了一声。“有时候，您知道，”他说，“只要一个念头或一个想象就足够了。” 
“噢，”基督山说道，“信不信由你们，但我是确信这间屋子里曾发生过一件罪案的。” 
“小心哪！”维尔福夫人说道，“检察官可在这儿呢。” 
“啊！”基督山答道，“既然如此，我就乘便在他面前提出我的起诉好了。” 
“您的起诉！”维尔福说道。 
“是的，而且还有证据。” 
“噢，这真有趣极了，”德布雷说，“假如真的发生过罪案，我们不妨来调查一下。” 
“的确是发生过罪案的，”基督山说道。“这边来，诸位，来，维尔福先生，因为要起诉就得在有关当局的面前起诉才能奏效。”于是他挽住维尔福的手臂，同时仍挽着腾格拉尔夫人，拖着检察官向那棵处在荫影最深处的梧桐树走过去。其他的来宾都跟在后面。“喏，”基督山说，“这里，就在这个地方（他用脚顿了顿地面），我因为想给这些老树增添一点新鲜活力，就叫人把这儿的泥土挖起来，加些新土进去。呃，他的挖土的时候发现了一只木箱子，说得确切些，是一只包了铁皮的木箱子，箱子里有一具初生不久的婴儿的尸骨。” 
基督山直觉得腾格拉尔夫人的手臂在发僵，而维尔福的则在发抖。 
“一个初生不久的婴儿！”雷布雷说道，“见鬼！我看这事倒真的严重起来啦！” 
“唉，”夏多·勒诺说，“我刚才没说错吧。我说：房屋也象人一样的，有灵魂，有面孔，而人们的外表就是其内心的表现。这座房子之所以阴森可怖，就是因为它看了令人难过，而它之所以看了令人难过，就是因为它包藏着一件罪案。” 
“谁说这是一件罪案？”维尔福挣扎起最后一点力气问道。 
“什么！把一个孩子活埋在花园里难道还不算犯罪吗？”基督山大声说道。“请问，您把这样一种行为叫做什么呢？” 
“谁说是活埋的？” 
“假如是死的，干嘛要埋在这儿呢？这个花园从未当坟地用过呀。” 
“杀害婴儿在法国要算是什么罪？”卡瓦尔康蒂少校无意地问道。 
“噢，杀头。”腾格拉尔说道。 
“啊，真的！”卡瓦尔康蒂说。 
“我想是的吧。我说得对吗，维尔福先生？”基督山问。 
“是的，伯爵。”维尔福回答，但他此时的声音简直不象是人声了。 
基督山看到那两个人对于他所精心准备的这个场面都已再也忍受不了，也就不再穷追下去了，于是便说：“来吧，诸位，去喝点咖啡吧，我们好象把它给忘啦。”于是他又引着来宾们回到了草地上的桌子旁边。 
“伯爵，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，“说来真是难为情，可您那些吓人的故事说得我难受极了，所以我必须请求您允许我坐下来。”于是她倒入了一张椅子里。 
基督山鞠了一躬，走到了维尔福夫人面前。“我想腾格拉尔夫人大概又需要用一下您那只瓶子了。”他说道。 
在维尔福夫人还没走到她朋友的身边以前，检察官已乘机对腾格拉尔夫人耳语了一句：“我必须和您谈一次。” 
“什么时候？” 
“明天。” 
“在哪儿？” 
“请到我的办室里来，那是最安全的地方。” 
“我一定去。”这时，维尔福夫人过来了。“谢谢，亲爱的，” 
腾格拉尔夫人说，并极力想装出一个笑容。“都已经过去了，现在觉得好多了。” 
Chapter 64 The Beggar
 THE EVENING passed on; Madame de Villefort expressed a desire to return to Paris, which Madame Danglars had not dared to do, notwithstanding the uneasiness she experienced. On his wife's request, M. de Villefort was the first to give the signal of departure. He offered a seat in his landau to Madame Danglars, that she might be under the care of his wife. As for M. Danglars, absorbed in an interesting conversation with M. Cavalcanti, he paid no attention to anything that was passing. While Monte Cristo had begged the smelling-bottle of Madame de Villefort, he had noticed the approach of Villefort to Madame Danglars, and he soon guessed all that had passed between them, though the words had been uttered in so low a voice as hardly to be heard by Madame Danglars. Without opposing their arrangements, he allowed Morrel, Chateau-Renaud, and Debray to leave on horseback, and the ladies in M. de Villefort's carriage. Danglars, more and more delighted with Major Cavalcanti, had offered him a seat in his carriage. Andrea Cavalcanti found his tilbury waiting at the door; the groom, in every respect a caricature of the English fashion, was standing on tiptoe to hold a large iron-gray horse. 
Andrea had spoken very little during dinner; he was an intelligent lad, and he feared to utter some absurdity before so many grand people, amongst whom, with dilating eyes, he saw the king's attorney. Then he had been seized upon by Danglars, who, with a rapid glance at the stiff-necked old major and his modest son, and taking into consideration the hospitality of the count, made up his mind that he was in the society of some nabob come to Paris to finish the worldly education of his heir. He contemplated with unspeakable delight the large diamond which shone on the major's little finger; for the major, like a prudent man, in case of any accident happening to his bank-notes, had immediately converted them into an available asset. Then, after dinner, on the pretext of business, he questioned the father and son upon their mode of living; and the father and son, previously informed that it was through Danglars the one was to receive his 48,000 francs and the other 50,000 livres annually, were so full of affability that they would have shaken hands even with the banker's servants, so much did their gratitude need an object to expend itself upon. One thing above all the rest heightened the respect, nay almost the veneration, of Danglars for Cavalcanti. The latter, faithful to the principle of Horace, nil admirari, had contented himself with showing his knowledge by declaring in what lake the best lampreys were caught. Then he had eaten some without saying a word more; Danglars, therefore, concluded that such luxuries were common at the table of the illustrious descendant of the Cavalcanti, who most likely in Lucca fed upon trout brought from Switzerland, and lobsters sent from England, by the same means used by the count to bring the lampreys from Lake Fusaro, and the sterlet from the Volga. Thus it was with much politeness of manner that he heard Cavalcanti pronounce these words, "To-morrow, sir, I shall have the honor of waiting upon you on business." 
"And I, sir," said Danglars, "shall be most happy to receive you." Upon which he offered to take Cavalcanti in his carriage to the H?tel des Princes, if it would not be depriving him of the company of his son. To this Cavalcanti replied by saying that for some time past his son had lived independently of him, that he had his own horses and carriages, and that not having come together, it would not be difficult for them to leave separately. The major seated himself, therefore, by the side of Danglars, who was more and more charmed with the ideas of order and economy which ruled this man, and yet who, being able to allow his son 60,000 francs a year, might be supposed to possess a fortune of 500,000 or 600,000 livres. 
As for Andrea, he began, by way of showing off, to scold his groom, who, instead of bringing the tilbury to the steps of the house, had taken it to the outer door, thus giving him the trouble of walking thirty steps to reach it. The groom heard him with humility, took the bit of the impatient animal with his left hand, and with the right held out the reins to Andrea, who, taking them from him, rested his polished boot lightly on the step. At that moment a hand touched his shoulder. The young man turned round, thinking that Danglars or Monte Cristo had forgotten something they wished to tell him, and had returned just as they were starting. But instead of either of these, he saw nothing but a strange face, sunburnt, and encircled by a beard, with eyes brilliant as carbuncles, and a smile upon the mouth which displayed a perfect set of white teeth, pointed and sharp as the wolf's or jackal's. A red handkerchief encircled his gray head; torn and filthy garments covered his large bony limbs, which seemed as though, like those of a skeleton, they would rattle as he walked; and the hand with which he leaned upon the young man's shoulder, and which was the first thing Andrea saw, seemed of gigantic size. Did the young man recognize that face by the light of the lantern in his tilbury, or was he merely struck with the horrible appearance of his interrogator? We cannot say; but only relate the fact that he shuddered and stepped back suddenly. "What do you want of me?" he asked. 
"Pardon me, my friend, if I disturb you," said the man with the red handkerchief, "but I want to speak to you." 
"You have no right to beg at night," said the groom, endeavoring to rid his master of the troublesome intruder. 
"I am not begging, my fine fellow," said the unknown to the servant, with so ironical an expression of the eye, and so frightful a smile, that he withdrew; "I only wish to say two or three words to your master, who gave me a commission to execute about a fortnight ago." 
"Come," said Andrea, with sufficient nerve for his servant not to perceive his agitation, "what do you want? Speak quickly, friend." 
The man said, in a low voice: "I wish--I wish you to spare me the walk back to Paris. I am very tired, and as I have not eaten so good a dinner as you, I can scarcely stand." The young man shuddered at this strange familiarity. "Tell me," he said--"tell me what you want?" 
"Well, then, I want you to take me up in your fine carriage, and carry me back." Andrea turned pale, but said nothing. 
"Yes," said the man, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and looking impudently at the youth; "I have taken the whim into my head; do you understand, Master Benedetto?" 
At this name, no doubt, the young man reflected a little, for he went towards his groom, saying, "This man is right; I did indeed charge him with a commission, the result of which he must tell me; walk to the barrier, there take a cab, that you may not be too late." The surprised groom retired. "Let me at least reach a shady spot," said Andrea. 
"Oh, as for that, I'll take you to a splendid place," said the man with the handkerchief; and taking the horse's bit he led the tilbury where it was certainly impossible for any one to witness the honor that Andrea conferred upon him. 
"Don't think I want the glory of riding in your fine carriage," said he; "oh, no, it's only because I am tired, and also because I have a little business to talk over with you." 
"Come, step in," said the young man. It was a pity this scene had not occurred in daylight, for it was curious to see this rascal throwing himself heavily down on the cushion beside the young and elegant driver of the tilbury. Andrea drove past the last house in the village without saying a word to his companion, who smiled complacently, as though well-pleased to find himself travelling in so comfortable a vehicle. Once out of Auteuil, Andrea looked around, in order to assure himself that he could neither be seen nor heard, and then, stopping the horse and crossing his arms before the man, he asked,--"Now, tell me why you come to disturb my tranquillity?" 
"Let me ask you why you deceived me?" 
"How have I deceived you?" 
"'How,' do you ask? When we parted at the Pont du Var, you told me you were going to travel through Piedmont and Tuscany; but instead of that, you come to Paris." 
"How does that annoy you?" 
"It does not; on the contrary, I think it will answer my purpose." 
"So," said Andrea, "you are speculating upon me?" 
"What fine words he uses!" 
"I warn you, Master Caderousse, that you are mistaken." 
"Well, well, don't be angry, my boy; you know well enough what it is to be unfortunate; and misfortunes make us jealous. I thought you were earning a living in Tuscany or Piedmont by acting as facchino or cicerone, and I pitied you sincerely, as I would a child of my own. You know I always did call you my child." 
"Come, come, what then?" 
"Patience--patience!" 
"I am patient, but go on." 
"All at once I see you pass through the barrier with a groom, a tilbury, and fine new clothes. You must have discovered a mine, or else become a stockbroker." 
"So that, as you confess, you are jealous?" 
"No, I am pleased--so pleased that I wished to congratulate you; but as I am not quite properly dressed, I chose my opportunity, that I might not compromise you." 
"Yes, and a fine opportunity you have chosen!" exclaimed Andrea; "you speak to me before my servant." 
"How can I help that, my boy? I speak to you when I can catch you. You have a quick horse, a light tilbury, you are naturally as slippery as an eel; if I had missed you to-night, I might not have had another chance." 
"You see, I do not conceal myself." 
"You are lucky; I wish I could say as much, for I do conceal myself; and then I was afraid you would not recognize me, but you did," added Caderousse with his unpleasant smile. "It was very polite of you." 
"Come," said Andrea, "what do want?" 
"You do not speak affectionately to me, Benedetto, my old friend, that is not right--take care, or I may become troublesome." This menace smothered the young man's passion. He urged the horse again into a trot. "You should not speak so to an old friend like me, Caderousse, as you said just now; you are a native of Marseilles, I am"-- 
"Do you know then now what you are?" 
"No, but I was brought up in Corsica; you are old and obstinate, I am young and wilful. Between people like us threats are out of place, everything should be amicably arranged. Is it my fault if fortune, which has frowned on you, has been kind to me?" 
"Fortune has been kind to you, then? Your tilbury, your groom, your clothes, are not then hired? Good, so much the better," said Caderousse, his eyes sparkling with avarice. 
"Oh, you knew that well enough before speaking to me," said Andrea, becoming more and more excited. "If I had been wearing a handkerchief like yours on my head, rags on my back, and worn-out shoes on my feet, you would not have known me." 
"You wrong me, my boy; now I have found you, nothing prevents my being as well-dressed as any one, knowing, as I do, the goodness of your heart. If you have two coats you will give me one of them. I used to divide my soup and beans with you when you were hungry." 
"True," said Andrea. 
"What an appetite you used to have! Is it as good now?" 
"Oh, yes," replied Andrea, laughing. 
"How did you come to be dining with that prince whose house you have just left?" 
"He is not a prince; simply a count." 
"A count, and a rich one too, eh?" 
"Yes; but you had better not have anything to say to him, for he is not a very good-tempered gentleman." 
"Oh, be easy! I have no design upon your count, and you shall have him all to yourself. But," said Caderousse, again smiling with the disagreeable expression he had before assumed, "you must pay for it--you understand?" 
"Well, what do you want?" 
"I think that with a hundred francs a month"-- 
"Well?" 
"I could live"-- 
"Upon a hundred francs!" 
"Come--you understand me; but that with"-- 
"With?" 
"With a hundred and fifty francs I should be quite happy." 
"Here are two hundred," said Andrea; and he placed ten gold louis in the hand of Caderousse. 
"Good!" said Caderousse. 
"Apply to the steward on the first day of every mouth, and you will receive the same sum." 
"There now, again you degrade me." 
"How so?" 
"By making me apply to the servants, when I want to transact business with you alone." 
"Well, be it so, then. Take it from me then, and so long at least as I receive my income, you shall be paid yours." 
"Come, come; I always said you were a line fellow, and it is a blessing when good fortune happens to such as you. But tell me all about it?" 
"Why do you wish to know?" asked Cavalcanti. 
"What? do you again defy me?" 
"No; the fact is, I have found my father." 
"What? a real father?" 
"Yes, so long as he pays me"-- 
"You'll honor and believe him--that's right. What is his name?" 
"Major Cavalcanti." 
"Is he pleased with you?" 
"So far I have appeared to answer his purpose." 
"And who found this father for you?" 
"The Count of Monte Cristo." 
"The man whose house you have just left?" 
"Yes." 
"I wish you would try and find me a situation with him as grandfather, since he holds the money-chest!" 
"Well, I will mention you to him. Meanwhile, what are you going to do?" 
"I?" 
"Yes, you." 
"It is very kind of you to trouble yourself about me." 
"Since you interest yourself in my affairs, I think it is now my turn to ask you some questions." 
"Ah, true. Well; I shall rent a room in some respectable house, wear a decent coat, shave every day, and go and read the papers in a café. Then, in the evening, I shall go to the theatre; I shall look like some retired baker. That is what I want." 
"Come, if you will only put this scheme into execution, and be steady, nothing could be better." 
"Do you think so, M. Bossuet? And you--what will you become? A peer of France?" 
"Ah," said Andrea, "who knows?" 
"Major Cavalcanti is already one, perhaps; but then, hereditary rank is abolished." 
"No politics, Caderousse. And now that you have all you want, and that we understand each other, jump down from the tilbury and disappear." 
"Not at all, my good friend." 
"How? Not at all?" 
"Why, just think for a moment; with this red handkerchief on my head, with scarcely any shoes, no papers, and ten gold napoleons in my pocket, without reckoning what was there before--making in all about two hundred francs,--why, I should certainly be arrested at the barriers. Then, to justify myself, I should say that you gave me the money; this would cause inquiries, it would be found that I left Toulon without giving due notice, and I should then be escorted back to the shores of the Mediterranean. Then I should become simply No. 106, and good-by to my dream of resembling the retired baker! No, no, my boy; I prefer remaining honorably in the capital." Andrea scowled. Certainly, as he had himself owned, the reputed son of Major Cavalcanti was a wilful fellow. He drew up for a minute, threw a rapid glance around him, and then his hand fell instantly into his pocket, where it began playing with a pistol. But, meanwhile, Caderousse, who had never taken his eyes off his companion, passed his hand behind his back, and opened a long Spanish knife, which he always carried with him, to be ready in case of need. The two friends, as we see, were worthy of and understood one another. Andrea's hand left his pocket inoffensively, and was carried up to the red mustache, which it played with for some time. "Good Caderousse," he said, "how happy you will be." 
"I will do my best," said the inn-keeper of the Pont du Gard, shutting up his knife. 
"Well, then, we will go into Paris. But how will you pass through the barrier without exciting suspicion? It seems to me that you are in more danger riding than on foot." 
"Wait," said Caderousse, "we shall see." He then took the great-coat with the large collar, which the groom had left behind in the tilbury, and put it on his back; then he took off Cavalcanti's hat, which he placed upon his own head, and finally he assumed the careless attitude of a servant whose master drives himself. 
"But, tell me," said Andrea, "am I to remain bareheaded?" 
"Pooh," said Caderousse; "it is so windy that your hat can easily appear to have blown off." 
"Come, come; enough of this," said Cavalcanti. 
"What are you waiting for?" said Caderousse. "I hope I am not the cause." 
"Hush," said Andrea. They passed the barrier without accident. At the first cross street Andrea stopped his horse, and Caderousse leaped out. 
"Well!" said Andrea,--"my servant's coat and my hat?" 
"Ah," said Caderousse, "you would not like me to risk taking cold?" 
"But what am I to do?" 
"You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Au revoir, Benedetto;" and running into a court, he disappeared. "Alas," said Andrea, sighing, "one cannot be completely happy in this world!"  
夜渐渐地深了。维尔福夫人提出要回巴黎去了，这正是腾格拉尔夫人所不敢提出的，尽管她感到在这儿很不安。维尔福先生听到他的妻子提出这个要求，就首先告辞了。他请腾格拉尔夫人乘他的马车回去，以便他妻子可以一路上照顾他。而腾格拉尔先生，他却正在兴致勃勃地和卡瓦尔康蒂先生谈话，并未注意到经过的种种情形。 
基督山去向维尔福夫人要嗅瓶的时候，就已经注意到了维尔福凑近了腾格拉尔夫人的身边，并已猜到了他向她说了些什么，尽管讲那些话时声音很低，甚至低得连腾格拉尔夫人本人都很难听清。他并没表示反对他们的安排，就让莫雷尔、夏多·勒诺和德布雷骑马回去，而让两位太太坐维尔福先生的马车走。腾格拉尔愈来愈喜欢上了卡瓦尔康蒂少校，已邀请他和自己同车回去。 
安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂发现他的双轮车已等在了门口。他的马夫，从各方面看来都非常象英国式漫画上的人物，此时他正踮起脚使劲拉住一匹铁灰色的高头大马。安德烈在席间一直很少讲话。他是个聪明的小伙子，深怕自己在这么多大人物面前会说出一些荒诞可笑的话来，所以只是睁大着他那一双也多少带有些恐惧的眼睛望着检察官。后来腾格拉尔缠上了他，那位银行家看到这位少校是那样的盛气凌人，而他的儿子却是这样的谦虚有礼，再想到伯爵对他们的态度是那样的，就认定他遇到的是一位带儿子到巴黎来增加阅历的大富翁。他带着说不出的喜悦注视着少校小手指上戴着的那只大钻戒；至于少校，他原本就是一个凡事小心谨慎的人，因怕他的钞票遭遇到什么不测，所以立刻把它变成了值钱东西。 
晚餐以后，腾格拉尔以谈生意为借口，顺便问到了他们父子的生活状况。这父子俩事先已经知道他们的四万八千法郎和每年的五万法郎都要从腾格拉尔手里得到，所以他们对这位银行家的感激唯恐表示的不充分，叫他们去和他的仆人握手，他们也会十分愿意的。有一件事哪怕腾格拉尔对卡瓦尔康蒂更增添了敬意——或者说是崇拜。后者由于信守贺拉斯那句“处万变而不惊”的格言，所以除了说最大的蓝鳗是哪个湖里的产物以证明他的学识之外，便不再多说一句话，默默地吃完了他面前的那份菜。腾格拉尔由此认为这桌宴席虽然奢侈，但对于卡瓦尔康蒂来说却如同家常便饭。他在卢卡的时候，多半也常吃从瑞士运来的鳟鱼和从英国运来的龙虾，就象伯爵吃由富莎乐湖来的蓝鳗和伏尔加河来的小蝶鲛一样；所以他极热情地接受了卡瓦尔康蒂的这几句话：“明天，阁下，我当登门拜访，和您谈一下有关业务方面的事情。” 
“而我，阁下，”腾格拉尔说，“将不胜愉快地恭候您的光临。”说到这里，他就请卡瓦尔康蒂坐他的马车回太子旅馆去，假如他认为不和他的儿子一同回去没什么不方便的话。对这一点，卡瓦尔康蒂说，他的儿子已到了相当独立的年龄，他有自己的马车，来的时候就不是一同来的，各自分别回去也没什么。于是少校就坐到了腾格拉尔的身旁，后者则对于少校的处理经济事务愈来愈感兴趣了，他允许他的儿子每年可以花五万法郎。单从这一点上讲，他就可能有五六十万里弗的财产。 
至于安德烈，为了显示一下自己的威风，就开始训斥起他的马夫来，因为马夫没把那辆双轮马车赶到台阶前面，而是等在了大门口，使他不得不走过去三十步。马夫忍气吞声地听着他的辱骂，左手抓住那匹不耐烦的马的嚼环，右手把缰绳递给了安德烈。安德烈接过缰绳，然后他那擦得油亮的皮靴轻轻地踩到了踏级上。就在这当儿，忽然有一只手拍了一下他的肩膀。那青年回过头来，还以为是腾格拉尔或基督山忘了什么事，现在才想起来，特地赶来告诉他的呢。但前面这个人既不是腾格拉尔也不是基督山，而是一个陌生人，那在太阳底下晒得黝黑的肤色，满脸络腮胡子，一双红宝石般明亮的眼睛，嘴角上因带着笑，所以露出了一排洁白整齐、象豺狼一般尖利的牙齿。他那灰色的头上缠着一条红手帕，身上披着破烂龌龊的衣服，四肢粗壮，那骨，象一具骷髅身上似的，走起路来会喀喇喀喇地发响似的，安德烈刚开始只看到了那只放在他肩上的手，那只手就象是巨人的手一般。究竟是那青年人借着车灯的光已认出了那张脸呢，还是他只不过被那种可怕的样子吓了一跳，这一点，我们无法确认，我们只能把事实讲出来，只见他打了一个寒颤，突然退后了一步。“你找我干吗？”他问道。 
“对不起，朋友，假如我打扰了你的话，“那个缠红手帕的人说，“但我想跟你谈谈。” 
“你无权在晚上讨钱。”马夫说，并摆出了一个阻挡的姿势以使其主人摆脱这个讨厌的怪客。 
“我可不是要钱的，亲爱的。”陌生人对那仆人说，他的目光里带着强烈的讽刺，脸上却是一副可怕的微笑，把后者吓得直往后退。“我只想跟你的主人讲几句话，他在半个月以前曾让我去办过一件事。” 
“喂，”安德烈说。他强作镇定，不使他的仆人看出他的心慌，“您想干什么？快说，朋友。” 
那人低声说道，“我希望——我希望你能让我省点劲，免得我步行回巴黎。我累极了，又没有象你这样吃过一顿丰富的晚餐，我简直有点支持不住啦。” 
那青年听到对方提出这种奇怪的要求，不禁打了一个寒颤。“告诉我，”他说，“你究竟要干什么？” 
“哦，我想要你请我坐在你这辆漂亮的马车里，带我一起回去。”安德烈脸色发白，但没说什么。“是的，”那个人把手插进口袋里，满脸显出一副满不在乎的表情望着那个青年人说。“我脑子里有了这么个怪念头，你懂吗，贝尼代托先生？” 
一听到这个名字，那青年显然怔了一下，他急忙走过去对马夫说道：“这人说得不错，我的确曾让他去办过一件事，他必须把结果告诉我。你先走回去吧，进城以后雇个马车回去好了，免得回旅馆太晚了。”马夫惊奇地走了。 
“至少让我先到一个隐蔽些的地方再谈吧。”安德烈说。 
“噢！这个，我可以带你到一个绝妙的地方去。”那缠手帕的人说道。于是他扯住马嚼环，把双轮马车领到了一个绝对不会有任何人目睹他们这次会谈的地方。 
“别以为我真的想坐你这辆漂亮的马车，”他说，“噢，不，这只不过是因为我累了，此外我还有点小事要和你谈一谈。” 
“来，上来吧！”那青年说道。 
可惜这一幕没发生在白天，要不然你就能看到这个流氓是如何重重地往弹簧座垫上一倒，坐到了那年轻高雅的车主身边，这可是个难得看见的情景。安德烈赶着车向林外走去，一路上始终没和他的同伴讲一句话，后者则嘴角挂着满意地微笑，象是很高兴自己能坐上这样舒服的一辆车子。一经过了欧特伊的最后一座房子，安德烈就回头望了一眼，以确定再没有人能看到或听到他，于是他勒住马，双臂交叉在胸前，对那个人说道：“现在说吧，你为什么要来打扰我的安宁？” 
“但你，我的孩子，你为什么要骗我呢？” 
“我怎么骗你了？” 
“怎么——这还要问吗？当我们在瓦尔湖分手的时候，你告诉我说，你要经皮埃蒙特到托斯卡纳去，但你没去那里，却到巴黎来了。” 
“这与你有何相干呢？” 
“何相干，恰恰相反，我以为这样一来，我的目的倒可以实现了。” 
“哦，”安德烈说，“你想在我身上搞投机吗？” 
“你用的词多妙啊！” 
“我警告你，卡德鲁斯先生，你打错算盘啦。” 
“哟，哟，别生气，我的孩子。你知道得很清楚，生气的结果总是很糟糕，都怪运气不好，我才会产生妒忌。我原以为你是在皮埃蒙特或托斯卡纳当向导混饭吃的，我真心真意地可怜你，就象可怜我自己的孩子一样。你知道，我总是把你叫做我的孩子的。” 
“嘿，嘿，还有什么别的话要说吗？” 
“别忙！耐心点呀！” 
“我够耐心了，说下去吧。” 
“当我突然看见你经过城门口，带着一个马夫，坐着双轮马车，穿着崭新的漂亮衣服时。我就猜你一定是发现了一个矿，不然就是做了一个证券经纪人。” 
“那么，你承认自己妒忌了，是不是？” 
“不，我很高兴——高兴得想来跟你道喜，但因为穿着不十分得体，所以我就挑了个机会，免得连累你。” 
“是的，你很会挑机会！”安德烈大声说道，“你当着我仆人的面来跟我讲话。” 
“有什么办法呢，我的孩子？我什么时候能抓住你，就什么时候来跟你讲话。你除有一匹跑得很快的马，又有一辆轻便的双轮马车，自然滑溜得象条黄鳝一样，假如我今天晚上错过了你，我或许不会再有第二个机会啦。” 
“我又没把自己藏起来。” 
“可你的运气好，我真希望我也能这么说。但我必须把自己藏起来，而且我还怕你不认得我——好在你还认得，”卡德鲁斯带着一种不悦的微笑又加上了一句。“你太客气了。” 
“说吧，”安德烈说，“你想干什么？” 
“这样对我说话可不太客气呀，贝尼代托，老朋友，这样可不好啊。小心点儿，不然我也许会给你找点小麻烦的。” 
这一恐吓立刻压服了青年人的火气。他让马小跑起来。 
“你不该用刚才那种口吻对一个老朋友讲话，卡德鲁斯。你是个马赛人，我是——” 
“这么说，你现在知道你是哪儿人了？” 
“不，可是别忘了我是在科西嘉长大的。你年老固执，可我是年轻顽强的。在我俩之间，恐吓是没有用的，凡事应该和和气气地来解决才好，命运之神关照我，却讨厌你，难道是我的错吗？” 
“那么，命运之神都在关照你喽？难道你的双轮马车，你的马夫，你的衣服，不都是租来的吗？不是？那就好！”卡德鲁斯说道，眼睛露出贪婪的目光。 
“噢！你来找我之前早就了解得很清楚啦。”安德烈说道，愈来愈情绪激动了。“倘若我也象你一样头上缠块手帕，背上披些烂布，脚上穿双破鞋子，你就不会认我了。” 
“你错看我了，我的孩子。不管怎么说，我现在已经找到了你，什么也不能再阻止我穿得象别人一样整齐了，因为，我知道你一向是心肠好。假如你有两件衣服，你肯定会分一件给我的。从前，当你饿肚子的时候，我可是常常把我的汤和豆子分给你的。” 
“不错。”安德烈。 
“你那时吃得可不少呀！现在还是那样吗？” 
“噢，是的。”安德烈回答，然后大笑起来。 
“你刚才从里面出来的那座房子是某个亲王府吧。你怎么会到亲王家里来吃饭呢？” 
“他不是什么亲王，是个伯爵。” 
“一个伯爵，一个很有钱的伯爵吧，呃？” 
“是的，但你最好还是别去跟他说什么话，他也许会很不耐烦的。” 
“噢，放心好了！我对你的伯爵才不想打什么主意呢，你只管留着自己享用好了。但是，“卡德鲁斯又装出他以前那种令人看了极不舒服的微笑说，“你得付出点儿代价才行，你懂吗？” 
“好吧，你想要什么？” 
“我想，如果一个月能有一百法郎——” 
“嗯？” 
“我就可以生活——” 
“靠一百法郎！” 
“是很苦，这你也知道，但有了——” 
“有了——？” 
“有了一百五十法郎，我就可以很快乐了。” 
“这是两百。”安德烈说道，他摸出十个路易放到卡德鲁斯的手里。 
“好！”卡德鲁斯说。 
“每月一号去找我的管家，你可以拿到相同数目的钱。” 
“喏，你又瞧不起我了。” 
“怎么了？” 
“你要我去跟仆人们打交道，不，告诉你，我只和大人来往。” 
“好吧，就这样吧。那么，每月一号，到我这儿来拿吧，只要我有进账，你的钱是缺不了的。” 
“我一直都说你是个好心人，托天之福，你现在交了这样的好运。把一切都讲给我听听吧。” 
“你干嘛要知道呢？”卡瓦尔康蒂问。 
“什么！你还是不信任我吗？” 
“不，嗯，我找到我父亲了。” 
“什么！是你亲生父亲吗？” 
“当然喽，只要他给我钱用——” 
“你就可以尊敬他，相信他——就应该这样。他叫什么名字？” 
“卡瓦尔康蒂少校。” 
“他喜欢你吗？” 
“只要我表面上能顺从他的心愿。” 
“你父亲是谁帮你找到的？” 
“基督山伯爵。” 
“就是刚才你从他家里出来的那个人？” 
“是的。” 
“既然他能找到有钱的主人，我希望你跟他讲讲，给我也想法找一个给别人当爷爷的位子怎么样。” 
“嗯，我可以替你去问问他。现在你打算干什么？” 
“我？” 
“是的，你。” 
“你真是心眼太好了，还为我操心。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“既然你这么关心我，现在也该轮到我来问你几个问题了。” 
“啊，没错！哦，我要在一座上等的房子里租个房间，穿上体面的衣服，每天刮胡子，到咖啡馆去读读报纸。晚上，我还要上戏院去，我要装成一个退休的面包师。这就是我的希望。” 
“噢，假如你只想按这个计划行事，而且安安稳稳地去做，这是再好不过的事了。” 
“你这样认为吗，布苏亚先生？那么你呢，你将变成什么呢——一个法国贵族？” 
“啊！”安德烈说道，“谁知道呢？” 
“卡瓦尔康蒂少校或许已经是了，但不幸的是爵位承袭制已经被取消了。” 
“别耍花招儿了，卡德鲁斯！你想要的东西现在已经得到了，我们也已经互相谅解了，你快下车去吧。” 
“决不，我的好朋友。” 
“什么！决不？” 
“咦，你也不为我想一想，我头上缠着这么块手帕，脚上简直可说没穿什么鞋子，又没有什么证件，可口袋里却有十个金拿破仑，且不说这十块金洋将来派什么用场，现在就不只要值两百法郎，我这个样子在城门口一定会被抓起来的呀！那时，为了证明我自己，我就不得不说出那些钱是你给我的。这样，他们就要去调查，于是就会发觉我没有获得许可就离开了土伦，那样我就又要被带回到地中海岸边。到那时我便又成了一○六号犯人，我那退休面包师的梦可就化为泡影了！不，不，我的孩子，我情愿还是留在首都享享福的好。” 
安德烈脸上立刻显出很不高兴的样子。的确，正如他所自夸的，卡瓦尔康蒂少校的公子爷可不是个好惹的人。他一边把身子挺了一下，一边向四周急速地瞟了一眼，手好象若无其事似地插进了口袋里，他打开了一把袖珍手枪的保险机，卡德鲁斯的眼神始终也没有离开过他这位同伴，此时他也就把手伸到了背后，慢慢地抽出了一把他总是带在身边以备急需的西班牙匕首。由此可见，这两位可敬的朋友的确是互相很了解对方的。安德烈的手又没事似从口装里拿了出来，抬上来摸了一下他的红胡须，玩弄了好长一会儿。“好心的卡德鲁斯！”他说道，“那样你将多快乐呀！” 
“我尽力找快乐就是了。”杜加桥客栈的老板说道，把他的小刀子悄悄地缩回了衣袖里。 
“嗯，那么，我们进巴黎城里去吧。可你通过城门时怎么才能不引起怀疑呢？依我看，你这样比步行更危险呀。” 
“等一下，”卡德鲁斯说，“我们来想个办法。”说着他便拿起马夫忘在车里的那件高领大短挂，披在自己身上，然后又摘下卡瓦尔康蒂的帽子，戴在自己头上，最后装出一副满不在乎的样子，就象一个由他的主人自己驱车的仆人。 
“我说，”安德烈说，“难道就这样要我光着脑袋吗？” 
“哧！”卡德鲁斯说道，“今天风这么大，你的帽子权当被风吹掉了。” 
“那么，”安德烈说，“我们走完这段路吧。” 
“不让你走了？”卡德鲁斯说，“我希望不是我。” 
“嘘！”安德烈说道。 
他们顺利地通过了城门。安德烈在第一道十字路口停住了马，卡德鲁斯跳了下去。 
“喂！”安德烈说，“我仆人的衣服和我的帽子呢？” 
“啊！”卡德鲁斯说，“你该不会希望我得伤风感冒吧？” 
“可我怎么办呢？” 
“你！噢，你还年轻，可我却开始变老罗。再见，贝尼代托。” 
说完他便消失在一条小巷子里。 
“唉！”安德烈叹了一口气说道，“在这个世界上人不可能总是快活的呀！” 
Chapter 65 A Conjugal Scene
 AT THE Place Louis XV the three young people separated--that is to say, Morrel went to the Boulevards, Chateau-Renaud to the Pont de la Revolution, and Debray to the Quai. Most probably Morrel and Chateau-Renaud returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the gallery of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of the Rue Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with Debray. When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, he turned to the left, galloped across the Carrousel, passed through the Rue Saint-Roch, and, issuing from the Rue de la Michodière, he arrived at M. Danglars' door just at the same time that Villefort's landau, after having deposited him and his wife at the Faubourg St. Honoré, stopped to leave the baroness at her own house. Debray, with the air of a man familiar with the house, entered first into the court, threw his bridle into the hands of a footman, and returned to the door to receive Madame Danglars, to whom he offered his arm, to conduct her to her apartments. The gate once closed, and Debray and the baroness alone in the court, he asked,--"What was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so affected at that story, or rather fable, which the count related?" 
"Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, my friend," said the baroness. 
"No, Hermine," replied Debray; "you cannot make me believe that; on the contrary, you were in excellent spirits when you arrived at the count's. M. Danglars was disagreeable, certainly, but I know how much you care for his ill-humor. Some one has vexed you; I will allow no one to annoy you." 
"You are deceived, Lucien, I assure you," replied Madame Danglars; "and what I have told you is really the case, added to the ill-humor you remarked, but which I did not think it worth while to allude to." It was evident that Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervous irritability which women frequently cannot account for even to themselves; or that, as Debray had guessed, she had experienced some secret agitation that she would not acknowledge to any one. Being a man who knew that the former of these symptoms was one of the inherent penalties of womanhood, he did not then press his inquiries, but waited for a more appropriate opportunity when he should again interrogate her, or receive an avowal proprio motu. At the door of her apartment the baroness met Mademoiselle Cornelie, her confidential maid. "What is my daughter doing?" asked Madame Danglars. 
"She practiced all the evening, and then went to bed," replied Mademoiselle Cornelie. 
"Yet I think I hear her piano." 
"It is Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who is playing while Mademoiselle Danglars is in bed." 
"Well," said Madame Danglars, "come and undress me." They entered the bedroom. Debray stretched himself upon a large couch, and Madame Danglars passed into her dressing-room with Mademoiselle Cornelie. "My dear M. Lucien," said Madame Danglars through the door, "you are always complaining that Eugénie will not address a word to you." 
"Madame," said Lucien, playing with a little dog, who, recognizing him as a friend of the house, expected to be caressed, "I am not the only one who makes similar complaints, I think I heard Morcerf say that he could not extract a word from his betrothed." 
"True," said Madame Danglars; "yet I think this will all pass off, and that you will one day see her enter your study." 
"My study?" 
"At least that of the minister." 
"Why so!" 
"To ask for an engagement at the Opera. Really, I never saw such an infatuation for music; it is quite ridiculous for a young lady of fashion." Debray smiled. "Well," said he, "let her come, with your consent and that of the baron, and we will try and give her an engagement, though we are very poor to pay such talent as hers." 
"Go, Cornelie," said Madame Danglars, "I do not require you any longer." 
Cornelie obeyed, and the next minute Madame Danglars left her room in a charming loose dress, and came and sat down close to Debray. Then she began thoughtfully to caress the little spaniel. Lucien looked at her for a moment in silence. "Come, Hermine," he said, after a short time, "answer candidly,--something vexes you--is it not so?" 
"Nothing," answered the baroness. 
And yet, as she could scarcely breathe, she rose and went towards a looking-glass. "I am frightful to-night," she said. Debray rose, smiling, and was about to contradict the baroness upon this latter point, when the door opened suddenly. M. Danglars appeared; Debray reseated himself. At the noise of the door Madame Danglars turned round, and looked upon her husband with an astonishment she took no trouble to conceal. "Good-evening, madame," said the banker; "good-evening, M. Debray." 
Probably the baroness thought this unexpected visit signified a desire to make up for the sharp words he had uttered during the day. Assuming a dignified air, she turned round to Debray, without answering her husband. "Read me something, M. Debray," she said. Debray, who was slightly disturbed at this visit, recovered himself when he saw the calmness of the baroness, and took up a book marked by a mother-of-pearl knife inlaid with gold. "Excuse me," said the banker, "but you will tire yourself, baroness, by such late hours, and M. Debray lives some distance from here." 
Debray was petrified, not only to hear Danglars speak so calmly and politely, but because it was apparent that beneath outward politeness there really lurked a determined spirit of opposition to anything his wife might wish to do. The baroness was also surprised, and showed her astonishment by a look which would doubtless have had some effect upon her husband if he had not been intently occupied with the paper, where he was looking to see the closing stock quotations. The result was, that the proud look entirely failed of its purpose. 
"M. Lucien," said the baroness, "I assure you I have no desire to sleep, and that I have a thousand things to tell you this evening, which you must listen to, even though you slept while hearing me." 
"I am at your service, madame," replied Lucien coldly. 
"My dear M. Debray," said the banker, "do not kill yourself to-night listening to the follies of Madame Danglars, for you can hear them as well to-morrow; but I claim to-night and will devote it, if you will allow me, to talk over some serious matters with my wife." This time the blow was so well aimed, and hit so directly, that Lucien and the baroness were staggered, and they interrogated each other with their eyes, as if to seek help against this aggression, but the irresistible will of the master of the house prevailed, and the husband was victorious. 
"Do not think I wish to turn you out, my dear Debray," continued Danglars; "oh, no, not at all. An unexpected occurrence forces me to ask my wife to have a little conversation with me; it is so rarely I make such a request, I am sure you cannot grudge it to me." Debray muttered something, bowed and went out, knocking himself against the edge of the door, like Nathan in Athalie. 
"It is extraordinary," he said, when the door was closed behind him, "how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, gain an advantage over us." 
Lucien having left, Danglars took his place on the sofa, closed the open book, and placing himself in a dreadfully dictatorial attitude, he began playing with the dog; but the animal, not liking him as well as Debray, and attempting to bite him, Danglars seized him by the skin of his neck and threw him upon a couch on the other side of the room. The animal uttered a cry during the transit, but, arrived at its destination, it crouched behind the cushions, and stupefied at such unusual treatment remained silent and motionless. "Do you know, sir," asked the baroness, "that you are improving? Generally you are only rude, but to-night you are brutal." 
"It is because I am in a worse humor than usual," replied Danglars. Hermine looked at the banker with supreme disdain. These glances frequently exasperated the pride of Danglars, but this evening he took no notice of them. 
"And what have I to do with your ill-humor?" said the baroness, irritated at the impassibility of her husband; "do these things concern me? Keep your ill-humor at home in your money boxes, or, since you have clerks whom you pay, vent it upon them." 
"Not so," replied Danglars; "your advice is wrong, so I shall not follow it. My money boxes are my Pactolus, as, I think, M. Demoustier says, and I will not retard its course, or disturb its calm. My clerks are honest men, who earn my fortune, whom I pay much below their deserts, if I may value them according to what they bring in; therefore I shall not get into a passion with them; those with whom I will be in a passion are those who eat my dinners, mount my horses, and exhaust my fortune." 
"And pray who are the persons who exhaust your fortune? Explain yourself more clearly, I beg, sir." 
"Oh, make yourself easy!--I am not speaking riddles, and you will soon know what I mean. The people who exhaust my fortune are those who draw out 700,000 francs in the course of an hour." 
"I do not understand you, sir," said the baroness, trying to disguise the agitation of her voice and the flush of her face. "You understand me perfectly, on the contrary," said Danglars: "but, if you will persist, I will tell you that I have just lost 700,000 francs upon the Spanish loan." 
"And pray," asked the baroness, "am I responsible for this loss?" 
"Why not?" 
"Is it my fault you have lost 700,000 francs?" 
"Certainly it is not mine." 
"Once for all, sir," replied the baroness sharply, "I tell you I will not hear cash named; it is a style of language I never heard in the house of my parents or in that of my first husband." 
"Oh, I can well believe that, for neither of them was worth a penny." 
"The better reason for my not being conversant with the slang of the bank, which is here dinning in my ears from morning to night; that noise of jingling crowns, which are constantly being counted and re-counted, is odious to me. I only know one thing I dislike more, which is the sound of your voice." 
"Really?" said Danglars. "Well, this surprises me, for I thought you took the liveliest interest in all my affairs!" 
"I? What could put such an idea into your head?" 
"Yourself." 
"Ah?--what next?" 
"Most assuredly." 
"I should like to know upon what occasion?" 
"Oh, mon Dieu, that is very easily done. Last February you were the first who told me of the Haitian funds. You had dreamed that a ship had entered the harbor at Havre, that this ship brought news that a payment we had looked upon as lost was going to be made. I know how clear-sighted your dreams are; I therefore purchased immediately as many shares as I could of the Haitian debt, and I gained 400,000 francs by it, of which 100,000 have been honestly paid to you. You spent it as you pleased; that was your business. In March there was a question about a grant to a railway. Three companies presented themselves, each offering equal securities. You told me that your instinct,--and although you pretend to know nothing about speculations, I think on the contrary, that your comprehension is very clear upon certain affairs,--well, you told me that your instinct led you to believe the grant would be given to the company called the Southern. I bought two thirds of the shares of that company; as you had foreseen, the shares trebled in value, and I picked up a million, from which 250,000 francs were paid to you for pin-money. How have you spent this 250,000 francs?--it is no business of mine." 
"When are you coming to the point?" cried the baroness, shivering with anger and impatience. 
"Patience, madame, I am coming to it." 
"That's fortunate." 
"In April you went to dine at the minister's. You heard a private conversation respecting Spanish affairs--on the expulsion of Don Carlos. I bought some Spanish shares. The expulsion took place and I pocketed 600,000 francs the day Charles V repassed the Bidassoa. Of these 600,000 francs you took 50,000 crowns. They were yours, you disposed of them according to your fancy, and I asked no questions; but it is not the less true that you have this year received 500,000 livres." 
"Well, sir, and what then?" 
"Ah, yes, it was just after this that you spoiled everything." 
"Really, your manner of speaking"-- 
"It expresses my meaning, and that is all I want. Well, three days after that you talked politics with M. Debray, and you fancied from his words that Don Carlos had returned to Spain. Well, I sold my shares, the news got out, and I no longer sold--I gave them away, next day I find the news was false, and by this false report I have lost 700,000 francs." 
"Well?" 
"Well, since I gave you a fourth of my gains, I think you owe me a fourth of my losses; the fourth of 700,000 francs is 175,000 francs." 
"What you say is absurd, and I cannot see why M. Debray's name is mixed up in this affair." 
"Because if you do not possess the 175,000 francs I reclaim, you must have lent them to your friends, and M. Debray is one of your friends." 
"For shame!" exclaimed the baroness. 
"Oh, let us have no gestures, no screams, no modern drama, or you will oblige me to tell you that I see Debray leave here, pocketing the whole of the 500,000 livres you have handed over to him this year, while he smiles to himself, saying that he has found what the most skilful players have never discovered--that is, a roulette where he wins without playing, and is no loser when he loses." The baroness became enraged. "Wretch!" she cried, "will you dare to tell me you did not know what you now reproach me with?" 
"I do not say that I did know it, and I do not say that I did not know it. I merely tell you to look into my conduct during the last four years that we have ceased to be husband and wife, and see whether it has not always been consistent. Some time after our rupture, you wished to study music, under the celebrated baritone who made such a successful appearance at the Theatre Italien; at the same time I felt inclined to learn dancing of the danseuse who acquired such a reputation in London. This cost me, on your account and mine, 100,000 francs. I said nothing, for we must have peace in the house; and 100,000 francs for a lady and gentleman to be properly instructed in music and dancing are not too much. Well, you soon become tired of singing, and you take a fancy to study diplomacy with the minister's secretary. You understand, it signifies nothing to me so long as you pay for your lessons out of your own cashbox. But to-day I find you are drawing on mine, and that your apprenticeship may cost me 700,000 francs per month. Stop there, madame, for this cannot last. Either the diplomatist must give his lessons gratis, and I will tolerate him, or he must never set his foot again in my house;--do you understand, madame?" 
"Oh, this is too much," cried Hermine, choking, "you are worse than despicable." 
"But," continued Danglars, "I find you did not even pause there"-- 
"Insults!" 
"You are right; let us leave these facts alone, and reason coolly. I have never interfered in your affairs excepting for your good; treat me in the same way. You say you have nothing to do with my cash-box. Be it so. Do as you like with your own, but do not fill or empty mine. Besides, how do I know that this was not a political trick, that the minister enraged at seeing me in the opposition, and jealous of the popular sympathy I excite, has not concerted with M. Debray to ruin me?" 
"A probable thing!" 
"Why not? Who ever heard of such an occurrence as this?--a false telegraphic despatch--it is almost impossible for wrong signals to be made as they were in the last two telegrams. It was done on purpose for me--I am sure of it." 
"Sir," said the baroness humbly, "are you not aware that the man employed there was dismissed, that they talked of going to law with him, that orders were issued to arrest him and that this order would have been put into execution if he had not escaped by flight, which proves that he was either mad or guilty? It was a mistake." 
"Yes, which made fools laugh, which caused the minister to have a sleepless night, which has caused the minister's secretaries to blacken several sheets of paper, but which has cost me 700,000 francs." 
"But, sir," said Hermine suddenly, "if all this is, as you say, caused by M. Debray, why, instead of going direct to him, do you come and tell me of it? Why, to accuse the man, do you address the woman?" 
"Do I know M. Debray?--do I wish to know him?--do I wish to know that he gives advice?--do I wish to follow it?--do I speculate? No; you do all this, not I." 
"Still it seems to me, that as you profit by it--" 
Danglars shrugged his shoulders. 
"Foolish creature," he exclaimed. "Women fancy they have talent because they have managed two or three intrigues without being the talk of Paris! But know that if you had even hidden your irregularities from your husband, who has but the commencement of the art--for generally husbands will not see--you would then have been but a faint imitation of most of your friends among the women of the world. But it has not been so with me,--I see, and always have seen, during the last sixteen years. You may, perhaps, have hidden a thought; but not a step, not an action, not a fault, has escaped me, while you flattered yourself upon your address, and firmly believed you had deceived me. What has been the result?--that, thanks to my pretended ignorance, there is none of your friends, from M. de Villefort to M. Debray, who has not trembled before me. There is not one who has not treated me as the master of the house,--the only title I desire with respect to you; there is not one, in fact, who would have dared to speak of me as I have spoken of them this day. I will allow you to make me hateful, but I will prevent your rendering me ridiculous, and, above all, I forbid you to ruin me." 
The baroness had been tolerably composed until the name of Villefort had been pronounced; but then she became pale, and, rising, as if touched by a spring, she stretched out her hands as though conjuring an apparition; she then took two or three steps towards her husband, as though to tear the secret from him, of which he was ignorant, or which he withheld from some odious calculation,--odious, as all his calculations were. "M. de Villefort!--What do you mean?" 
"I mean that M. de Nargonne, your first husband, being neither a philosopher nor a banker, or perhaps being both, and seeing there was nothing to be got out of a king's attorney, died of grief or anger at finding, after an absence of nine months, that you had been enceinte six. I am brutal,--I not only allow it, but boast of it; it is one of the reasons of my success in commercial business. Why did he kill himself instead of you? Because he had no cash to save. My life belongs to my cash. M. Debray has made me lose 700,000 francs; let him bear his share of the loss, and we will go on as before; if not, let him become bankrupt for the 250,000 livres, and do as all bankrupts do--disappear. He is a charming fellow, I allow, when his news is correct; but when it is not, there are fifty others in the world who would do better than he." 
Madame Danglars was rooted to the spot; she made a violent effort to reply to this last attack, but she fell upon a chair thinking of Villefort, of the dinner scene, of the strange series of misfortunes which had taken place in her house during the last few days, and changed the usual calm of her establishment to a scene of scandalous debate. Danglars did not even look at her, though she did her best to faint. He shut the bedroom door after him, without adding another word, and returned to his apartments; and when Madame Danglars recovered from her half-fainting condition, she could almost believe that she had had a disagreeable dream.  
三个青年人在路易十五广场分了手。莫雷尔顺林荫大道走，夏多·勒诺走革命路，而德布雷则向码头那个方面走去。 
莫雷尔和夏多·勒诺很可能是到“炉边叙天伦之乐”去了，就如同他们在议院演讲台上措辞华丽的演说词中或黎希留路戏院里编写的工整的剧本中所说的那样；德布雷则不然。他到了罗浮门以后，就向左转，疾步穿越卡罗莎尔广场，穿过录克街，转入了密可德里路，这样就和维尔福先生乘坐的那辆马车同时到达了腾格拉尔先生的门前。男爵夫人所乘的马车因为要先送维尔福先生夫妇到圣·奥诺路然后才能送她回家，所以并不比他到得早。德布雷显出很熟悉这里的一切的样子先走进了那座房子的前庭，把缰绳扔给了一个仆人，然后回到车门旁边来接腾格拉尔夫人，伸手引她到了她的房间里去。等大门关上了，前庭里只剩下德布雷和男爵夫人两个人的时候，他问道：“你怎么啦，爱米娜？伯爵是讲了一个故事，说得更确切些，是个离奇故事，你为什么竟会那么激动呢？” 
“因为我今天晚上的情绪本来就不好，我的朋友。”男爵夫人说道。 
“不，爱米娜，”德布雷回答，“你这么说无法使我相信。因为你刚到伯爵家的时候情绪很好。当然罗，腾格拉尔先生是有点令人不太愉快，但我知道你一向是不大理会他的坏脾气的。一定有人冒犯了你。告诉我吧，你知道得很清楚，我是不会让任何人来冒犯你的。” 
“你搞错了，吕西安，我向你保证，”腾格拉尔夫人回答，“我说的都是实话，他今天的确脾气很坏，但我根本没把他当回事。” 
腾格拉尔夫人显然是在经受着一种女人们常常自己都解释不清的神经刺激，不然，就如德布雷所猜测到的，在她那种激动的情绪背后一定有某种不愿意向任何人透露的秘密。 
他很了解女人们情绪反复无常的特点，所以也就不再追问，只等待一个更适当的机会，或是再问她，或是听她主动加以解释。男爵夫人在她的房间门口遇到了她的心腹侍女康尼丽姑娘。“小姐在干什么？”她问。 
“她练习了一晚上，后来上床睡觉去了。”康尼丽姑娘回答。 
“可是我好象听到她在弹钢琴的声音。” 
“那是罗茜·亚密莱小姐，小姐上床以后她还在弹琴。” 
“嗯，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“来给我卸妆。” 
她们走进了卧室。德布雷正躺在一张大睡椅上，腾格拉尔夫人带着康尼丽姑娘走进了她的更衣室。 
“我亲爱的德布雷先生，”腾格拉尔夫人在门帘后面说，“您老是抱怨，说欧热妮一句话都不跟您谈。” 
“夫人，”吕西安说到，他正在玩弄着一条小狗，这条狗认得他，正在享受他的爱抚，“讲这种抱怨话的可不仅仅我一个人。我好象记得听到马尔塞夫也说过，他简直无法从他未婚妻的嘴里引出一个字来。” 
“真的，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“但我想，总有一天，这一切都会改变的，您会看到她走进您的办公室来。” 
“我的办公室？” 
“我的意思是指部长的。” 
“来干什么？” 
“来请求国立剧院给她一张聘书。真的，我从没看见过谁象她那样迷恋音乐。一个上流社会的小姐成了个这样子真是太荒唐了。” 
德布雷笑了笑。“嗯，”他说，“假如您和男爵同意的话，让她来好了，我们可以设法给她一张聘书，只是象她那样的天才，我们所给予的这点报酬真是太可怜的。” 
“你去吧，康尼丽，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“我这儿不需要你了。” 
康尼丽遵命走了出去。一会儿，腾格拉尔夫人穿着一件色彩艳丽、宽松肥大的睡衣走了出来，坐到德布雷的身边。然后，她带着若有所思的神情，开始抚弄起那只长毛大耳朵的小狗来。吕西安默默地望她了一会儿。“来，爱米娜，”过了一会儿之后，他说道，“坦白地告诉我吧，你心里正为一件事而烦恼，对不对？” 
“没什么，”男爵夫人回答。但她给憋得简直有点透不过气来了，她站起身来，走到一面大镜子面前。“我今天晚上的样子很可怕是吗？”她说。 
德布雷带笑站起身来，正要用行动来回答这句话时，门突然开了。出现的是腾格拉尔先生，德布雷急忙又坐了下来。 
听到开门的声音，腾格拉尔夫人转过头来，带着一种她根本不掩饰的惊愕的神情望着她的丈夫。 
“晚安，夫人！”那银行家说，“晚安，德布雷先生！” 
男爵夫人还以为他丈夫是为白天他所说的那些刻薄的话道歉的。于是便故作一副严肃不高兴的样子，并不搭理他，却转向德布雷。“谈点儿东西给我听，德布雷先生。”她说。 
德布雷对于这次来访本来就略微感到有点不安，但看到男爵夫人如此镇定自若他也就恢复了常态，拿起了一本中间夹着一把云母嵌金的小刀的书来。 
“请原谅，”银行家说，“这样你会很疲劳的，夫人。时间也不早了，已经十一点钟了，德布雷先生住的地方离这儿也挺远的。” 
德布雷怔住了。这倒并非因为腾格拉尔说话时的语气有什么惊人之处，他的声音很平静温和，但在那种平静和温和之中，却显示出某种不同寻常的坚决，象是表明今晚上一定要违背一下他妻子的意思似的。男爵夫人也感到很惊奇，并从目光中流露了出来，这种目光本来肯定会在她丈夫身上发生作用的，但腾格拉尔却故意装作全神贯注地在晚报上寻找公债的收盘价格，所以这次射到他身上的那种目光对他毫不起作用。 
“吕西安先生，”男爵夫人说，“我向您保证，我一点睡意都没有。今天晚上我有许许多多的事要对您讲，您得通宵听我讲，即使您站着打瞌睡我也不管。” 
“我悉听您的吩咐，夫人。”吕西安静静地回答。 
“我亲爱的德布雷，”银行家说，“别自讨苦吃了，通夜不睡去听腾格拉尔夫人的那些傻话，您明天白天不是照样可以听到的吗，今天晚上，假如您允许的话，我要和我妻子讨论一点儿正事。” 
这一次打击瞄准得这样准确，如同当头一棒，以致吕西安和男爵夫人倒吸了一口凉气。他们以询问的目光互相对望了一眼，象是要寻求对方的帮助来进行反击一样。但他们的对手毕竟是一家之主，他那种不可抗拒的意志占了上风，做丈夫的这次胜利了。 
“别以为我在赶您走，我亲爱的德布雷，”腾格拉尔继续说道，“噢，不！我决不是这个意思！但有一件意外的事使我不得不要求我妻子和我略微谈一下，我是很少提出这样的要求的，相信您不会认为我有什么恶意吧。” 
德布雷低声说了些什么，然后行了个礼，就向外走去，慌忙中竟撞到了门框上，就象《阿达丽》［法国作家拉辛的著名悲剧。——译注］剧中的拿当一样。 
“真是不可思议，”当他身后的房门关上以后，他说，“我们常常嘲笑这些当丈夫的，但他们却很容易占我们的上风。” 
吕西安走后，腾格拉尔在沙发上坐了下来，合上那本打开着的书，装出一副极生气的样子，开始玩弄那只哈叭狗；但那小东西因为对他并不象对德布雷那样喜欢，想咬他，腾格拉尔就抓住它的后颈把它扔到了靠对面墙的一张睡椅上。那小东西在被扔的过程中嗥叫了一声，但一到那椅子上之后，它就蜷缩到椅垫后面，静静地一动也不动了，它被这种不寻常的待遇吓呆了。 
“你知不知道，阁下，”男爵夫人说，“你在进步了？往常你只是粗鲁，而今天晚上你简直是残忍。” 
“那是因为我今天的脾气比往常坏。”腾格拉尔回答。 
爱米娜极端轻蔑地望着那银行家。这种目光若在平常早就激怒了骄傲的腾格拉尔，但今天晚上他却并不理会。 
“你脾气很坏跟我有什么关系？”男爵夫人说，她丈夫那种不动声色的态度惹恼她。“这与我有何相干？你的坏脾气，带到你的银行里去吧。那儿有着你花钱雇来的职员，去向他们发泄好啦。” 
“夫人，”腾格拉尔答道，“你的忠告是错误的，所以我无法遵从。我的银行就是我的财源之流，我可不愿意阻滞它的流动或扰乱它的平静。我的职员都是替我挣钱的忠实职员，假如以他们为我所赚的钱来评估他们，我给他们的报酬还嫌太低呢，所以我不会对他们生气的。我所生气的，是那些吃我的饭、骑我的马、又败坏我的家产的人。” 
“请问那些败坏你的家产的人是谁？我请你说明白点儿，阁下。” 
“噢，你放心好了！我并非在打哑谜，你一会儿就会明白我的意思。败坏我家产的人就是那些在一个钟头里面挖去我七十万法郎的人。” 
“我不懂你的意思，阁下。”男爵夫人说道，并极办想掩饰她因激动而变了的音调和涨红了的脸。 
“恰恰相反，你懂得非常清楚，”腾格拉尔说，“假如你非要说不懂的话，我可以告诉你，我刚刚在西班牙公债上损失了七十万法郎。” 
“原来是这样，”男爵夫人从鼻子里冷笑了一声说道，“你认为这个损失应该由我来负责？” 
“难道不是吗？” 
“你觉得你损失了七十万法郎是我的过错？” 
“反正不是我的。” 
“我最后一次告诉你，阁下，”男爵夫人厉声说道，“你决不要再跟我提到钱这个字。这个字我在我父母家里或在我前夫家里可从来没听到过。” 
“噢！这点我相信，因为他们根本一分钱都不值。” 
“我很庆幸自己没染上那种俗气，没学会那种从早到晚在我耳边喋喋不休的银行惯用语。那种丁丁当当、把钱数了又数的声音简直听得我烦死了。我知道只有一种声音比那个还讨厌，就是你讲话的声音。” 
“真的！”腾格拉尔说道。“哦，这倒使我奇怪了，因为我原以为你对我的业务是很感兴趣的！” 
“我！是让你脑子里有这种念头的？” 
“你自己！” 
“啊！真的！” 
“一点不假。” 
“我倒很想知道这倒底是怎么回事？” 
“啊，说来很简单！二月里，是你首先告诉我海地公债的消息的。你说自己做梦看到一艘船驶进了阿弗尔港。这艘船带来了一个消息，据说我们认为毫无希望的一种公债快要还本了。我认为你的梦是很有预感的，所以就立刻尽力买了许多海地公债，结果赚了四十万法郎，其中的十万如实地给了你。那笔钱你想怎么化就怎么花。完全由你自由支配。三月里，发生了铁路承建权的问题。三家公司请求承建，每家提出了同量的保证。你告诉我说，你的本能——尽管你假装对于投机买卖一无所知，但我却以为正巧相反，我觉得你的本能在某些事情上发挥得很充分——嗯，你告诉我说，你的本能使你相信应该把那个承建权交给名为南方公司的那一家。我收购了三分之二那家公司的股票；正如你所预见的，那种股票的价格突然涨了三倍，我因而赚了一百万法朗，从那一百万里拿了二十五万给你做了私房钱。这二十五万法郎你都怎样花掉了？” 
“你什么时候才能讲到正题上来？”男爵夫人大声说道，愤怒、烦躁使得她浑身发抖。 
“耐心一点，夫人！我就要讲到了。” 
“那就运气了！” 
“四月里，你到部长家里去吃饭时，听到了一段有关西班牙事件的机密谈话——驱逐卡罗斯先生。我买了一些西班牙公债。驱逐事件果真发生了。那天正值查理五世重登宝座，我赚了六十万法郎。这六十万当中，你拿了五万艾居。那些钱是你的，你可以随意处置，我并不过问，但你今年收到了五十万里弗，这毕竟是真的。” 
“嗯，阁下，后来还有什么？” 
“啊，是的，还有什么？嗯，后来，事情就全弄糟了。” 
“真的，你讲话的态度——” 
“它足以表达我的意思，我只求能做到这一点就够了。嗯，三天以后，你和德布雷先生谈论政治问题，你好象觉得他向你透露了点儿卡罗斯先生已经回到西班牙去了的口信。于是我把我的公债全部卖掉了。消息一传开，股市顿时发生了混乱，我不是卖而简直是在奉送。第二天，报上登出那个消息是假的，就因这个假消息，我一下子损失了七十万法郎。” 
“那又怎么样？” 
“怎么样！既然我把我赚的钱分给了你四分之一，我想你也应该负担我四分之一的损失。七十万法郎的四分之一是十七万五千法郎。” 
“你的话简直荒唐极了，我不懂为什么要把德布雷先生也扯进这件事里。” 
“因为假如你拿不出我所要的那十七万五千法郎，你就得去向你的朋友借，而德布雷先生是你的朋友之一。” 
“真不要脸！”男爵夫人大声说道。 
“噢！我们不要手舞足蹈，大喊大叫，上演一幕文明剧了，好不好夫人，不然我就不得不告诉你，我看到德布雷在这儿笑嘻嘻地接受今年你数给他的那五十万里弗，并且还对他说，他发明了一种连最精明的赌客也从没发现过的赌博——赢的时候不必出本钱，输了又不必拿钱出去。” 
男爵夫人发火了。“混蛋！”她喊道，“你敢对我说你不知道你现在已在指责我什么吗？” 
“我并没有说我知道，我也没说我不知道。我只是叫你仔细想一想，自从我们中止夫妇关系以来，最近四年里，我所做的一切都怎么样，究竟是否始终一致。我们分开以后不久，你忽然心血来潮，要那个在意大利戏院初次登台就一炮打响大红大紫起来的男中音歌手来指导你研究音乐，当时，我也正想和那个在英国非常著名的的女舞蹈家去学习跳舞。为了你和我各自的学习，我付出了十万法郎的代价。我并没有说什么，因为我们必须使家里保持太平，而十万法郎使一位贵妇人和一位上流社会的绅士得到适当的音乐教育和跳舞的知识并不算太多。嗯，不久你就厌倦了唱歌，然后异想天开地想去和部长的秘书研究外交。我让你研究。你知道——只要你自己掏腰包付学费，跟我又有什么关系呢？可是今天，我发觉你在掏我的腰包了，你的学习生活也许要我每月付出七十万法郎的代价。就此为止吧，夫人！因为不能再为这种事情再继续发展下去了。除非那位外交家能免费授课，那样的话我还可以容忍他，否则，他就别想再踏进我的家门——你懂了吗，夫人？” 
“噢，这太过分了，阁下，”爱米娜哽咽着大声说道，“你真是庸俗极了。” 
“可是，”腾格拉尔说，“我很高兴看到你也并不高明，你自动地服从了‘嫁鸡随鸡’的格言。” 
“这简直是在侮辱我！” 
“你说得不错。让我们先来看一下事实，冷静而理智地分析一下吧。我从没有干涉过你的事，除非是为了你好，希望你也能以同样的态度来对待我。你说你对我的钱袋毫无兴趣，那样最好。你自己的钱袋也随便你去怎样处理，但别想来填塞或挖空我的。而且，我怎么知道这是不是一种政治诡计，该不是部长因为恼恨我居于反对派的地位，妒忌我获得普遍的同情，因此勾结了德布雷先生来想使我破产吧？” 
“这怎么可能呢！” 
“为什么不可能？谁从来听说过这样的事情？一封假急报！那简直是不可能的事。先后两封急报的消息竟截然相反！这是在故意捉弄我，我敢确信。” 
“阁下，”男爵夫人低声下气地说道，“你好象不知道那个雇员已被革了职，他们甚至还要判他的罪，已经发出了逮捕他的命令。要不是他事先逃走了，本来就被抓住了，而他的逃走就可以证明他不是发了疯，便是他已自知有罪。这是一次误会。” 
“是啊，这次误会使傻瓜们大笑，使部长一夜睡不着觉，使部长的秘书涂黑了几张纸，但却使我损失了七十万法郎。” 
“但是，阁下，”爱米娜突然说道，“假如，如你所说，这一切都是德布雷先生造成的，那么你为什么不直接去找他，却要来对我讲！你要怪罪男人，却为什么只冲女人来？” 
“难道是我熟悉德布雷先生吗？是我想要认识他？是我要他来给什么忠告的吗？是我相信他的那套鬼话的吗？是我想搞投机的吗？不，这一切都是你干的，不是我。” 
“可是，在我看来，你既然以前得到过好处——” 
腾格拉尔耸了耸肩。“要是玩过几次阴谋而没有被巴黎人当作谈资就以天才而自命不凡，这种女人真是蠢货！”他大声说道。“要知道，即使你能把自己不规矩的行为瞒过你的丈夫，那也只是耍小聪明而已，全世界有一半的女人都会耍小聪明。因为一般来说，做丈夫的不愿意正视这一点。但我却不然。我是正视它的，而且始终正视它。你自以为能言善辩，坚信你瞒过了我。可是，在过去这十六年间，你或许曾瞒掉过一点儿，但你的一举一动、你的过失，没有一次曾逃过我的眼睛。结果怎么样？结果，感谢我假装糊涂，凡是你的朋友，从维尔福先生到德布雷先生，没有哪一个不在我面前发抖。没有哪一个不把我当作一家之主，我唯一的要求，也只是希望你能尊重那个头衔，老实说，他们中没有哪一个敢象我今天谈论他们那样来谈论我。我可以容忍你使人觉得我可恨，但我决不许你使人觉得我可笑，而最重要的是，我绝不让你使我倾家荡产。” 
男爵夫人本来还能勉强克制住自己，但一听到提及维尔福的名字，她的脸色立刻变得煞白，象一只弹簧似的跳了起来，伸直了双手，象是要赶走一个鬼怪似的。她向她的丈夫逼近了两三步，象是要把他现在还不知道的那个秘密一下子揭穿似的，这样免得他再费事一步步地实施那令人讨厌的计划，因为他每次有所计划，总是不一下子展示出来的。“维尔福先生！你是什么意思？” 
“我的意思是：你的前夫奈刚尼先生，因为他既不是位哲学家又不是位银行家，或许既是位哲学家又是位银行家，在离开了九个月之后，发觉你怀了六个月的身孕，当他看到自己的对手是一位检察官，同他斗不会有什么好结果时，就忧愤交集地死去了。我很残忍。我不但容忍了这种事，而且还以此自夸，这是我在商业上成功的原因。他为什么不杀了你而杀了他自己呢？因为他没有钱。我的生命属于我的金钱。德布雷先生使我损失了七十万法郎，让他对那笔损失也分担一份，我们就一切照旧。否则的话，就让他为那十七万五千里弗而宣告破产，并且象所有宣告破产的人一样不再露面。我承认，当他的消息准确的时候，他是一个很可爱的人，但当他的消息不准确的时候，则世界上比他好的人，要找五十个也有。” 
腾格拉尔夫人脚下象生了根似地钉在了她所站的那个地方，但她终于竭力挣扎起来接受这个最后的打击。她倒在一张椅子上，想起了维尔福，想起那顿晚餐的情形，想到最近这几天来使她这平静的家变成众口交议的对象的那一连串不幸事件。腾格拉尔连看都不看她一眼，虽然她极力装出要晕倒的样子。他不再多说一个字，顺手把卧室的门带上，回他自己的房间里去了。当腾格拉尔夫人从那种半昏迷的状况中恢复过来的时候，她只觉得自己象是做了一场恶梦。 
Chapter 66 Matrimonial Projects
 THE DAY following this scene, at the hour the banker usually chose to pay a visit to Madame Danglars on his way to his office, his coupé did not appear. At this time, that is, about half-past twelve, Madame Danglars ordered her carriage, and went out. Danglars, hidden behind a curtain, watched the departure he had been waiting for. He gave orders that he should be informed as soon as Madame Danglars appeared; but at two o'clock she had not returned. He then called for his horses, drove to the Chamber, and inscribed his name to speak against the budget. From twelve to two o'clock Danglars had remained in his study, unsealing his dispatches, and becoming more and more sad every minute, heaping figure upon figure, and receiving, among other visits, one from Major Cavalcanti, who, as stiff and exact as ever, presented himself precisely at the hour named the night before, to terminate his business with the banker. On leaving the Chamber, Danglars, who had shown violent marks of agitation during the sitting, and been more bitter than ever against the ministry, re-entered his carriage, and told the coachman to drive to the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, No. 30. 
Monte Cristo was at home; only he was engaged with some one and begged Danglars to wait for a moment in the drawing-room. While the banker was waiting in the anteroom, the door opened, and a man dressed as an abbé and doubtless more familiar with the house than he was, came in and instead of waiting, merely bowed, passed on to the farther apartments, and disappeared. A minute after the door by which the priest had entered reopened, and Monte Cristo appeared. "Pardon me," said he, "my dear baron, but one of my friends, the Abbé Busoni, whom you perhaps saw pass by, has just arrived in Paris; not having seen him for a long time, I could not make up my mind to leave him sooner, so I hope this will be sufficient reason for my having made you wait." 
"Nay," said Danglars, "it is my fault; I have chosen my visit at a wrong time, and will retire." 
"Not at all; on the contrary, be seated; but what is the matter with you? You look careworn; really, you alarm me. Melancholy in a capitalist, like the appearance of a comet, presages some misfortune to the world." 
"I have been in ill-luck for several days," said Danglars, "and I have heard nothing but bad news." 
"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo. "Have you had another fall at the Bourse?" 
"No; I am safe for a few days at least. I am only annoyed about a bankrupt of Trieste." 
"Really? Does it happen to be Jacopo Manfredi?" 
"Exactly so. Imagine a man who has transacted business with me for I don't know how long, to the amount of 800,000 or 900,000 francs during the year. Never a mistake or delay--a fellow who paid like a prince. Well, I was a million in advance with him, and now my fine Jacopo Manfredi suspends payment!" 
"Really?" 
"It is an unheard-of fatality. I draw upon him for 600,000 francs, my bills are returned unpaid, and, more than that, I hold bills of exchange signed by him to the value of 400,000 francs, payable at his correspondent's in Paris at the end of this month. To-day is the 30th. I present them; but my correspondent has disappeared. This, with my Spanish affairs, made a pretty end to the month." 
"Then you really lost by that affair in Spain?" 
"Yes; only 700,000 francs out of my cash-box--nothing more!" 
"Why, how could you make such a mistake--such an old stager?" 
"Oh, it is all my wife's fault. She dreamed Don Carlos had returned to Spain; she believes in dreams. It is magnetism, she says, and when she dreams a thing it is sure to happen, she assures me. On this conviction I allow her to speculate, she having her bank and her stockbroker; she speculated and lost. It is true she speculates with her own money, not mine; nevertheless, you can understand that when 700,000 francs leave the wife's pocket, the husband always finds it out. But do you mean to say you have not heard of this? Why, the thing has made a tremendous noise." 
"Yes, I heard it spoken of, but I did not know the details, and then no one can be more ignorant than I am of the affairs in the Bourse." 
"Then you do not speculate?" 
"I?--How could I speculate when I already have so much trouble in regulating my income? I should be obliged, besides my steward, to keep a clerk and a boy. But touching these Spanish affairs, I think that the baroness did not dream the whole of the Don Carlos matter. The papers said something about it, did they not?" 
"Then you believe the papers?" 
"I?--not the least in the world; only I fancied that the honest Messager was an exception to the rule, and that it only announced telegraphic despatches." 
"Well, that's what puzzles me," replied Danglars; "the news of the return of Don Carlos was brought by telegraph." 
"So that," said Monte Cristo, "you have lost nearly 1,700,000 francs this month." 
"Not nearly, indeed; that is exactly my loss." 
"Diable!" said Monte Cristo compassionately, "it is a hard blow for a third-rate fortune." 
"Third-rate," said Danglars, rather humble, "what do you mean by that?" 
"Certainly," continued Monte Cristo, "I make three assortments in fortune--first-rate, second-rate, and third-rate fortunes. I call those first-rate which are composed of treasures one possesses under one's hand, such as mines, lands, and funded property, in such states as France, Austria, and England, provided these treasures and property form a total of about a hundred millions; I call those second-rate fortunes, that are gained by manufacturing enterprises, joint-stock companies, viceroyalties, and principalities, not drawing more than 1,500,000 francs, the whole forming a capital of about fifty millions; finally, I call those third-rate fortunes, which are composed of a fluctuating capital, dependent upon the will of others, or upon chances which a bankruptcy involves or a false telegram shakes, such as banks, speculations of the day--in fact, all operations under the influence of greater or less mischances, the whole bringing in a real or fictitious capital of about fifteen millions. I think this is about your position, is it not?" 
"Confound it, yes!" replied Danglars. 
"The result, then, of six more such months as this would be to reduce the third-rate house to despair." 
"Oh," said Danglars, becoming very pale, how you are running on!" 
"Let us imagine seven such months," continued Monte Cristo, in the same tone. "Tell me, have you ever thought that seven times 1,700,000 francs make nearly twelve millions? No, you have not;--well, you are right, for if you indulged in such reflections, you would never risk your principal, which is to the speculator what the skin is to civilized man. We have our clothes, some more splendid than others,--this is our credit; but when a man dies he has only his skin; in the same way, on retiring from business, you have nothing but your real principal of about five or six millions, at the most; for third-rate fortunes are never more than a fourth of what they appear to be, like the locomotive on a railway, the size of which is magnified by the smoke and steam surrounding it. Well, out of the five or six millions which form your real capital, you have just lost nearly two millions, which must, of course, in the same degree diminish your credit and fictitious fortune; to follow out my simile, your skin has been opened by bleeding, and this if repeated three or four times will cause death--so pay attention to it, my dear Monsieur Danglars. Do you want money? Do you wish me to lend you some?" 
"What a bad calculator you are!" exclaimed Danglars, calling to his assistance all his philosophy and dissimulation. "I have made money at the same time by speculations which have succeeded. I have made up the loss of blood by nutrition. I lost a battle in Spain, I have been defeated in Trieste, but my naval army in India will have taken some galleons, and my Mexican pioneers will have discovered some mine." 
"Very good, very good! But the wound remains and will reopen at the first loss." 
"No, for I am only embarked in certainties," replied Danglars, with the air of a mountebank sounding his own praises; "to involve me, three governments must crumble to dust." 
"Well, such things have been." 
"That there should be a famine!" 
"Recollect the seven fat and the seven lean kine." 
"Or, that the sea should become dry, as in the days of Pharaoh, and even then my vessels would become caravans." 
"So much the better. I congratulate you, my dear M. Danglars," said Monte Cristo; "I see I was deceived, and that you belong to the class of second-rate fortunes." 
"I think I may aspire to that honor," said Danglars with a smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which bad artists are so fond of daubing into their pictures of ruins. "But, while we are speaking of business," Danglars added, pleased to find an opportunity of changing the subject, "tell me what I am to do for M. Cavalcanti." 
"Give him money, if he is recommended to you, and the recommendation seems good." 
"Excellent; he presented himself this morning with a bond of 40,000 francs, payable at sight, on you, signed by Busoni, and returned by you to me, with your indorsement--of course, I immediately counted him over the forty bank-notes." 
Monte Cristo nodded his head in token of assent. "But that is not all," continued Danglars; "he has opened an account with my house for his son." 
"May I ask how much he allows the young man?" 
"Five thousand francs per month." 
"Sixty thousand francs per year. I thought I was right in believing that Cavalcanti to be a stingy fellow. How can a young man live upon 5,000 francs a month?" 
"But you understand that if the young man should want a few thousands more"-- 
"Do not advance it; the father will never repay it. You do not know these ultramontane millionaires; they are regular misers. And by whom were they recommended to you?" 
"Oh, by the house of Fenzi, one of the best in Florence." 
"I do not mean to say you will lose, but, nevertheless, mind you hold to the terms of the agreement." 
"Would you not trust the Cavalcanti?" 
"I? oh, I would advance six millions on his signature. I was only speaking in reference to the second-rate fortunes we were mentioning just now." 
"And with all this, how unassuming he is! I should never have taken him for anything more than a mere major." 
"And you would have flattered him, for certainly, as you say, he has no manner. The first time I saw him he appeared to me like an old lieutenant who had grown mouldy under his epaulets. But all the Italians are the same; they are like old Jews when they are not glittering in Oriental splendor." 
"The young man is better," said Danglars. 
"Yes; a little nervous, perhaps, but, upon the whole, he appeared tolerable. I was uneasy about him." 
"Why?" 
"Because you met him at my house, just after his introduction into the world, as they told me. He has been travelling with a very severe tutor, and had never been to Paris before." 
"Ah, I believe noblemen marry amongst themselves, do they not?" asked Danglars carelessly; they like to unite their fortunes." 
"It is usual, certainly; but Cavalcanti is an original who does nothing like other people. I cannot help thinking that he has brought his son to France to choose a wife." 
"Do you think so?" 
"I am sure of it." 
"And you have heard his fortune mentioned?" 
"Nothing else was talked of; only some said he was worth millions, and others that he did not possess a farthing." 
"And what is your opinion?" 
"I ought not to influence you, because it is only my own personal impression." 
"Well, and it is that"-- 
"My opinion is, that all these old podestas, these ancient condottieri,--for the Cavalcanti have commanded armies and governed provinces,--my opinion, I say, is, that they have buried their millions in corners, the secret of which they have transmitted only to their eldest sons, who have done the same from generation to generation; and the proof of this is seen in their yellow and dry appearance, like the florins of the republic, which, from being constantly gazed upon, have become reflected in them." 
"Certainly," said Danglars, "and this is further supported by the fact of their not possessing an inch of land." 
"Very little, at least; I know of none which Cavalcanti possesses, excepting his palace in Lucca." 
"Ah, he has a palace?" said Danglars, laughing; "come, that is something." 
"Yes; and more than that, he lets it to the Minister of Finance while he lives in a simple house. Oh, as I told you before, I think the old fellow is very close." 
"Come, you do not flatter him." 
"I scarcely know him; I think I have seen him three times in my life; all I know relating to him is through Busoni and himself. He was telling me this morning that, tired of letting his property lie dormant in Italy, which is a dead nation, he wished to find a method, either in France or England, of multiplying his millions, but remember, that though I place great confidence in Busoni, I am not responsible for this." 
"Never mind; accept my thanks for the client you have sent me. It is a fine name to inscribe on my ledgers, and my cashier was quite proud of it when I explained to him who the Cavalcanti were. By the way, this is merely a simple question, when this sort of people marry their sons, do they give them any fortune?" 
"Oh, that depends upon circumstances. I know an Italian prince, rich as a gold mine, one of the noblest families in Tuscany, who, when his sons married according to his wish, gave them millions; and when they married against his consent, merely allowed them thirty crowns a month. Should Andrea marry according to his father's views, he will, perhaps, give him one, two, or three millions. For example, supposing it were the daughter of a banker, he might take an interest in the house of the father-in-law of his son; then again, if he disliked his choice, the major takes the key, double-locks his coffer, and Master Andrea would be obliged to live like the sons of a Parisian family, by shuffling cards or rattling the dice." 
"Ah, that boy will find out some Bavarian or Peruvian princess; he will want a crown and an immense fortune." 
"No; these grand lords on the other side of the Alps frequently marry into plain families; like Jupiter, they like to cross the race. But do you wish to marry Andrea, my dear M. Danglars, that you are asking so many questions?" 
"Ma foi!" said Danglars, "it would not be a bad speculation, I fancy, and you know I am a speculator." 
"You are not thinking of Mademoiselle Danglars, I hope; you would not like poor Andrea to have his throat cut by Albert?" 
"Albert," repeated Danglars, shrugging his shoulders; "ah, well; he would care very little about it, I think." 
"But he is betrothed to your daughter, I believe?" 
"Well, M. de Morcerf and I have talked about this marriage, but Madame de Morcerf and Albert"-- 
"You do not mean to say that it would not be a good match?" 
"Indeed, I imagine that Mademoiselle Danglars is as good as M. de Morcerf." 
"Mademoiselle Danglars' fortune will be great, no doubt, especially it the telegraph should not make any more mistakes." 
"Oh, I do not mean her fortune only; but tell me"-- 
"What?" 
"Why did you not invite M. and Madame de Morcerf to your dinner?" 
"I did so, but he excused himself on account of Madame de Morcerf being obliged to go to Dieppe for the benefit of sea air." 
"Yes, yes," said Danglars, laughing, "it would do her a great deal of good." 
"Why so?" 
"Because it is the air she always breathed in her youth." Monte Cristo took no notice of this ill-natured remark. 
"But still, if Albert be not so rich as Mademoiselle Danglars," said the count, "you must allow that he has a fine name?" 
"So he has; but I like mine as well." 
"Certainly; your name is popular, and does honor to the title they have adorned it with; but you are too intelligent not to know that according to a prejudice, too firmly rooted to be exterminated, a nobility which dates back five centuries is worth more than one that can only reckon twenty years." 
"And for this very reason," said Danglars with a smile, which he tried to make sardonic, "I prefer M. Andrea Cavalcanti to M. Albert de Morcerf." 
"Still, I should not think the Morcerfs would yield to the Cavalcanti?" 
"The Morcerfs!--Stay, my dear count," said Danglars; "you are a man of the world, are you not?" 
"I think so." 
"And you understand heraldry?" 
"A little." 
"Well, look at my coat-of-arms, it is worth more than Morcerf's." 
"Why so?" 
"Because, though I am not a baron by birth, my real name is, at least, Danglars." 
"Well, what then?" 
"While his name is not Morcerf." 
"How?--not Morcerf?" 
"Not the least in the world." 
"Go on." 
"I have been made a baron, so that I actually am one; he made himself a count, so that he is not one at all." 
"Impossible!" 
"Listen my dear count; M. de Morcerf has been my friend, or rather my acquaintance, during the last thirty years. You know I have made the most of my arms, though I never forgot my origin." 
"A proof of great humility or great pride," said Monte Cristo. 
"Well, when I was a clerk, Morcerf was a mere fisherman." 
"And then he was called"-- 
"Fernand." 
"Only Fernand?" 
"Fernand Mondego." 
"You are sure?" 
"Pardieu! I have bought enough fish of him to know his name." 
"Then, why did you think of giving your daughter to him?" 
"Because Fernand and Danglars, being both parvenus, both having become noble, both rich, are about equal in worth, excepting that there have been certain things mentioned of him that were never said of me." 
"What?" 
"Oh, nothing!" 
"Ah, yes; what you tell me recalls to mind something about the name of Fernand Mondego. I have heard that name in Greece." 
"In conjunction with the affairs of Ali Pasha?" 
"Exactly so." 
"This is the mystery," said Danglars. "I acknowledge I would have given anything to find it out." 
"It would be very easy if you much wished it?" 
"How so?" 
"Probably you have some correspondent in Greece?" 
"I should think so." 
"At Yanina?" 
"Everywhere." 
"Well, write to your correspondent in Yanina, and ask him what part was played by a Frenchman named Fernand Mondego in the catastrophe of Ali Tepelini." 
"You are right," exclaimed Danglars, rising quickly, "I will write to-day." 
"Do so." 
"I will." 
"And if you should hear of anything very scandalous"-- 
"I will communicate it to you." 
"You will oblige me." Danglars rushed out of the room, and made but one leap into his coupé.  
这一幕发生后的第二天，在德布雷上办公室去的途中照例来拜访腾格拉尔夫人的那个时间，他的双人马车并没有在前庭出现。约莫十二点半时，腾格拉尔夫人吩咐备车出去。腾格拉尔躲在一张窗帷后面，注视着他预料之中的那次出门。他吩咐仆人，腾格拉尔夫人一回家马上来通知他，但她到两点钟也没回来。于是他吩咐套马，驱车到下议院，在发言表上写下了自己的名字。从十二点到两点，他一直呆在他的书房里，拆开一封封的信件，堆叠起一个个的数字，心里愈来愈觉得愁闷。他接待了一些客人，其中有卡瓦尔康蒂少校。少校还是象他往常一样地古板和严谨，他分秒不差地正巧在前一天晚上所约定的那个时间来访，来和那位银行家了结他的事务。腾格拉尔在开会的时候显得异常激动，比往常更猛烈地攻击内政部，然后，当离开下议院钻进马车的时候，他告诉车夫驱车到香榭丽舍大道二十号。 
基督山在家，但他正在和一个客人谈话，请腾格拉尔在客厅里等一会儿。在等候的期间，门开了，走进来一个穿长衣的神甫，那个人无疑比他更熟悉主人，他没有等，只是鞠了一躬，就继续向里面的房间走去。一分钟之后，神甫进去的那扇门又打开，基督山出来了。“对不起，”他说，“我亲爱的男爵，我的朋友布沙尼神甫，或许您刚才看见他经过了这里，他刚到巴黎。由于好久不见了，所以同他多聊了一会儿，劳您久等了。希望您能理解这个借口。” 
“没什么，”腾格拉尔说，“是我的错，我选错了拜访的时间，我自愿告退。” 
“请一定不要走，相反，请坐。您怎么啦？您看起来心事重重的。我很为你担心！因为当一个资本家发愁的时候，正如一颗彗星的出现一样，它预示着世界上某种灾难要发生了。” 
“这几天来我交了恶运，”腾格拉尔说，“我老是只听到坏消息。” 
“啊，真的！”基督山说，“您在证券交易所里又栽了一个跟头吗？” 
“不，那方面我至少还可以得到一点补偿。我现在的麻烦是由的里雅斯特的一家银行倒闭引起来的。” 
“真的！”您所指的那家倒闭的银行难道就是雅格布·曼弗里那家吗？” 
“一点不错。您想想看，这位先生和我不知做了多少年的生意了，每年往来的数额达八九十万。从来没有出过差错或拖延过日期——付款象一位王公大人一样爽快。嗯，我给他垫付了一百万，而现在我那位好先生雅格布·曼弗里却延期付款了！” 
“真的？” 
“这种倒霉的事是闻所未闻的。我向他支取六十万里弗，我的票子没能兑成现金，被退了回来。此外，我手里还有他所出的四十万法郎的汇票，这个月月底到期，由他的巴黎特派员承兑的。今天是三十日。我派人到他那里去兑现，一看，那位特派员竟然不见了！这件事，再加上那西班牙事件给我的打击，使我这个月月底的光景够瞧的了。” 
“那么您真的在那个西班牙事件里损失了很多吗？” 
“是的，我损失了七十万法郎。 
“咦，您怎么会走错这一步的呢——象你这样的一个老狐狸精？” 
“噢，那全是我太太的错。她做梦看见卡罗斯先生已经回到了西班牙，她相信了。她说，这是一种磁性现象。当她梦见一件必将发生的事的时候，她就通知我。在这种信念上，我允许她去做投机生意。她有她的银行和她的证券经纪人，她投机，输了钱。当然，她投机的钱是她自己的，不是我的，可是，您也知道，当七十万法郎离开太太的荷包时，丈夫总是知道的。难道您没听见人说起过这事吗？哼，这事已闹得没人不知道了！” 
“是的，我听人说起过，但详细情形却不了解。对于证券交易所里的事，谁都不会比我懵懂的了。” 
“那么您不做投机生意吗？” 
“我？我光是管理我的收入就已经够麻烦的了，哪还有心思投机呢？除了我的管家之外，我还不得不雇一个管账的和一个小伙计，至于这桩西班牙事情，我想，卡罗斯先生回来的那个故事，男爵夫人并非完全是做梦看见的吧。报纸上也谈到过这件事，不是吗？” 
“那么您相信报纸吗？” 
“我？一点都不相信，不过我认为那忠实的《消息报》是个例外，它所公布的都是真消息——急报局的消息。” 
“对了，我就是这一点弄不明白，”腾格拉尔答道，“卡罗斯先生回来的消息的确是急报局的消息。” 
“那么，”基督山说道，“这个月您差不多损失了一百七十万法郎！” 
“老实说，不是差不多，我的的确确损失了那么多。” 
“糟糕！”基督山同情地说，“这对于一位三等富翁来说可是一个很厉害的打击。” 
“三等富翁，”腾格拉尔说，觉得有点受辱，“您这是什么意思？” 
“当然罗，”基督山又说，“我把富翁分成三等——头等，二等，三等。凡是手中有宝藏，在法国、奥地利和英国这种国家里拥有矿产、田地、不动产，而且这种宝藏和财产的总数约为一万万左右的，我把他们叫作头等富翁。凡是制造业或股份公司的大股东，负有某重任的总督，小国王公，年收入达一百五十万法郎，总资产在五千万左右的，就把他们叫作二等富翁。最后，凡是资产分散在各种企业上的小股东，靠他的意志或机遇赚钱，经受不起银行倒闭的，经受不起时局急变的，财产的增减单纯靠搞投机，受自然规律中大鱼吃小鱼定律的支配，虚实资本总共约莫在一千五百万左右的，我称他们为三等富翁。我想您的情形大概就是这最后一种吧？” 
“糟就糟在这儿！是的！”腾格拉尔回答。 
“那么，象这样再过六个月，”基督山平静地说道，“一个三等富翁就要绝望了。” 
“噢，”腾格拉尔说道，脸色变得非常苍白，“您讲得时间多快啊！” 
“让我们来想象一下这七个月吧，”基督山还是用同样平静的口吻继续说道，“告诉我，您有没有想过：一百七十万的七倍几乎就是一千二百万这一点？没有？嗯，你是对的，因为假如您这样反省一下的话，您就决不会把您的本钱拿出来冒险了，因为本钱对于投机家来说，正如文明人的皮肉一样。我们都穿衣服，有些人的衣服比别人的华丽。——这是我们有目共睹的。但当一个人死了以后，他就只剩下了皮肉。同样的，当退出商场的时候，您最多也不过只剩下了五六百万的真本钱，因为三等富翁的实际资产决不会超过他表面上看上去的四分之一。这就象铁路上的火车头一样，由于四周有煤烟和蒸气包围着它的体积，才显得特别庞大。嗯，在您那五六百万真本钱里面，您刚刚已经损失了差不多两百万，那一定会使您的信用和虚产也相应地减少，按我的比喻来看，您的皮肉已经裂开在流血了。要是再照这样再重复三四次，就会致你于死地的。啊！您必须对它注意才行，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生。您需要不需要钱？要不要我借些给您？” 
“您这位计算家的话真令人丧气，”腾格拉尔大声说道，竭力装出一副不在乎的样子，并以种种乐观的念头来支撑着他自己。“我同时还有成功的投机买卖可以赚钱，我可以增加营养来弥补大出血的损失。我在西班牙打了个败仗，我在的里雅斯特吃了次亏，但我的海军会在印度捕获到大商船，我的墨西哥先遣队会发现矿藏。” 
“好极了！好极了！但伤口依然在那儿，一受损失便会旧病复发。” 
“不会的！因为我只做十拿十稳的交易，”腾格拉尔用江湖医生吹法螺的那种廉价的雄辩回答说。“要弄倒我，必须有三个政府垮台才行。” 
“喂，这种事也是有过的呀！” 
“那必须是泥土里长不出庄稼来！” 
“请记住七年丰收七年灾荒的那个故事吧。” 
“那必须是大海突然枯干，象法老王的时代那样。但现在的大海还多得很，而且即使遇到那样的不测，还可以把船只改成车辆的。” 
“那就好了！我向您道喜，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生，”基督山说。“我看是我弄错了，你应该列为二等富翁才对。” 
“我想我或许可以得到那种荣誉，”腾格拉尔说着，微笑了一下，他的微笑使基督山联想到画家们在画废墟的时候常常喜欢连带涂上去的那种病态的月亮。“既然我们谈到生意上来了，”他又说，很高兴得到一个转变话题的机会，“请告诉我，我应该怎样对待卡瓦尔康蒂先生？” 
“给他钱呀，假如他给你的票据看来可靠的话。” 
“可靠极了！他今天早晨亲自拿来了一张四万法郎的支票，是布沙尼神甫开给您，经您签字以后转给我的。那是一张凭票即付的支票，我当即把四万法郎的钞票数给了他。” 
基督山点了一下头，表示认可。 
“还有，”腾格拉尔又说道，“他为他的儿子在我的银行里开了一个户头。” 
“我可以问问他允许那个青年人用多少钱吗？” 
“一个月五千法郎。” 
“一年六万法郎。我预料到了卡瓦尔康蒂是一个吝啬的人。五千法郎一个月叫一个青年人怎么生活呢？” 
“您知道，要是那个青年人想多要几千的话” 
“千万别透支给他，那老的可是决不肯认账的。您不了解这些意大利富翁的脾气，他们是十足的守财奴。那封委托书是哪家银行开出来的？” 
“哦，是福济银行开的，那是佛罗伦萨信用最好的一家。” 
“我并非在说您会吃倒账，但我得提醒您，您得严守委托收上的条款。” 
“那么您不信任卡瓦尔康蒂吗？” 
“我？噢，只要他签一个字，我给他垫付六百万都不成问题。我只是指我们刚才所提到的二等富翁而言。” 
“尽管很有钱，他却是那么的平淡朴实！我始终认为他只不过是个少校而已。” 
“您实在是恭维他了，因为的确如您所说的，他没什么风度。我初次见到他的时候，觉得他象是年老潦倒的中尉。但意大利人都是这样的，当他们不是象东方的圣人那样大放光芒的时候，他们看上去就象犹太老头子。” 
“那个青年人比较好一点。”腾格拉尔说道。 
“是的，或许有点神经质，但大体上来讲，他似乎很完美。我有点为他担心。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为据说，您在我家里和他见面的那一天，他还是初次踏入社交界。他以前出门旅行，总是跟着一位非常严厉的家庭教师，而且从没到过巴黎。” 
“这些意大利贵族都是在本阶级里互相通婚的，是吗？”腾格拉尔随随便便地问道，“他们喜欢门当户对地联姻。” 
“当然罗，一般说来这样的，但卡瓦尔康蒂是个别具卓见的人，他凡事都与别人不同。我以为他是带儿子到法国来选媳妇的。” 
“您这样想吗？” 
“我确信如此。” 
“您听人提到过他的财产吗？” 
“老是听人谈到那方面的事，只是有些人说他有几百万，而有些人则说，他连一个大子儿都不趁。” 
“您怎么看呢？” 
“我不应该来影响您，因为那只是我个人的感想。” 
“那么，您的意见是” 
“我的意见是，这些边关大将，这些节度使。要知道卡瓦尔康蒂曾统领过大军，坐镇过几个省。他们的百万家财都藏在秘密角落里，只把这种秘密传给他的长子，长子再同样的一代代传下去，证据就是他们都干黄枯瘪，象共和国的金币一样，真是愈看愈象。” 
“当然罗，”腾格拉尔说，“另外一个证据就是他们连一寸土地的产权都没有。” 
“或少可以说极少，除了他在卢卡的那座大厦以外，我就不知道他是否还有别的地产。” 
“啊！他有一座大夏吗？”腾格拉尔笑嘻嘻地说，“哦，那倒也很值几个钱的。” 
“是的，更妙的是，他把它租给了财政部长，而他自己则住在一所很简单的房子里。哦！我以前已经对您说过了，我觉得那个好人是非常吝啬的！” 
“好了，别替他吹嘘了。” 
“我简直可以说并不认识他。我记得，我一生之中曾见过他三次。关于他的一切，都是布沙尼神甫和他自己告诉我的。神甫今天早晨跟我谈到了卡瓦尔康蒂代他儿子所定的计划，还说卡瓦尔康蒂不想让他的财产再湮没在意大利了，那是个死地方，他很想找到办法到法国或英国来把他那几百万翻几个翻。请记得，虽然我极其信任布沙尼神甫，但对于这个消息的真假我是不能负责的。” 
“没关系，谢谢您给我介绍顾客。他给我的顾客名单增光不少。当我把卡瓦尔康蒂的身份解释给我的出纳听的时候，他也很引以为荣。慢来——顺便问您一个问题——当他那种人给他的儿子娶亲的时候，他们是不是要分一点财产给他们呢？” 
“噢，那得看情形而定。我认识一位意大利亲王，富有得象一座金矿似的，是托斯卡纳最高贵的贵族之一。假如他儿子的婚姻符合他的心愿，他就给他们几百万，假如他们的婚姻是他所不赞成的，他每月只给他们三十个艾居。要是安德烈的婚姻能符合他父亲的心愿，他或许会给他一百万、两百万，或是三百万。譬如说，那是一位银行家的女儿，他就可以在他亲家翁的银行里投资得点好处。又假如，那个未来的媳妇不中他的意——那就再见吧。卡瓦尔康蒂老头就会拿起钥匙，们他的小银库牢牢地锁上，于是安德烈先生就不得不象巴黎的那些纨绔子弟一样，靠玩纸牌和掷骰子来过活了。” 
“啊！那个小伙子会找到一个巴伐利亚或秘鲁的公主的，他要的是极其有钱的名门贵族。” 
“不，阿尔卑斯山那边的这些大贵族们是常常和平民通婚的，象朱庇特那样，他们喜欢跨族联姻。但是，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生，您问了这么多的问题，难道您想跟安德烈联姻吗？” 
“说老实话！”腾格拉尔说，“这桩投机生意看来倒不坏，而您也知道我是个投机家。” 
“我想您该不是指腾格拉尔小姐吧。您不会希望看到那可怜的安德烈被阿尔贝割断喉咙吧？” 
“阿尔贝！”腾格拉尔耸耸肩说道，“啊，是的，我想，他对于这件事是不怎么在乎的。” 
“可他不是已经跟令爱订婚了吗？” 
“当然，马尔塞夫先生和我曾谈过这件婚事，但马尔塞夫夫人和阿尔贝——” 
“您该不会说那不是门当户对的一对儿吧？” 
“的确，我想腾格拉尔小姐并不比马尔塞夫先生逊色。” 
“腾格拉尔小姐的财产将来不会少，那是毫无疑问的，尤其是假如急报局不再出什么岔子的话。” 
“噢！我并非仅指她的财产，但请告诉我——” 
“什么？” 
“您请客为什么不邀请马尔塞夫一家呢？” 
“我请了的，但他推托说马尔塞夫夫人必须到迪埃普去呼吸海滨的新鲜空气，因此不能来。” 
“是的，是的，”腾格拉尔说着大笑起来，“那对她是大有好处的。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为那是她青年时代所呼吸的空气。”基督山假装没有注意到这句震颤他的心弦的话，让它滑了过去。 
“但是，假如说阿尔贝不如腾格拉尔小姐有钱，”伯爵说，“您总得承认他们的门第很不错的吧？” 
“他的门第是不错，但我的也并不差。” 
“当然罗，您的姓很普遍，而且您也有爵位，但您是个聪明人，当然不会不知道：有一种根深蒂固的偏见，一家有五世纪历史的贵族总比一家只有二十年历史的贵族说起来名声响得多的。” 
“正是因为这个原因，”腾格拉尔带着一个他自以为是的讽刺的微笑说道，“我情愿要安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生而不要阿尔贝·马尔塞夫先生。” 
“可是，我倒并非认为马尔塞夫不如卡瓦尔康蒂。” 
“马尔塞夫！慢来，我亲爱的伯爵，”腾格拉尔说，“您也是个聪明人，是不是？” 
“我自己是这样想的。” 
“您懂得家谱学？” 
“略微懂一点。” 
“噢，瞧瞧我的纹章，它比马尔塞夫更有价值。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“因为，虽然我不是一位世袭的男爵，但至少我千真万确是姓腾格拉尔。” 
“嗯，那又怎么样？” 
“而他的姓却不是马尔塞夫。” 
“怎么——不是马尔塞夫？” 
“一点边儿都没沾。” 
“噢，请说明白一点儿！” 
“我这个男爵是人家封的，所以我货真价实的是个男爵。而他是自己对自己叫的伯爵，所以他根本就不是什么伯爵。” 
“这简直是不可能的！” 
“听我说，我亲爱的伯爵，马尔塞夫是我的朋友，说得更确切些，是我过去三十年来的老相识。你知道，我在竭力争取我的名誉和地位，可是我从来没忘记过我的出身。” 
“这是一种非常谦逊或者说非常骄矜的风度。”基督山说。 
“嗯，我当公司职员的时候，马尔塞夫还只是个渔夫。” 
“他那时叫——” 
“弗尔南多。” 
“只是弗尔南多？” 
“弗尔南多·蒙台哥。” 
“您确信没弄错？” 
“我觉得应该不会错！因为我从他手里买过很多的鱼，所以知道他的姓名。” 
“那么您为什么想到要把令爱给他儿子呢？” 
“因为弗尔南多和腾格拉尔两个人都是暴发户，都后来成了贵族，都发了财，所以大家都差不多，只是在某些事情上，有人提到他，却从来没谈到过我。” 
“什么事？” 
“哦，没什么！” 
“啊，是的！您的这番话使我想起了一件关于弗尔南多·蒙台哥这个人的事来了。我是在希腊听说的。” 
“那事是不是和阿里总督有关？” 
“一点不错。” 
“这是一个迷，”腾格拉尔说，“我承认我愿意不惜任何代价来查明它的真相。” 
“假如您真想这么做，那是很容易的。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“您在希腊大概有来往的银行吧？” 
“当然有。” 
“亚尼纳呢？” 
“到处都有。” 
“那就好办了，写一封信给您在亚尼纳的来往银行，问问他们在阿里·铁贝林蒙难的时候，一个名叫弗尔南多·蒙台哥的法国人曾扮演过什么样的角色。” 
“您说得不错，”腾格拉尔一下子站起来说道，“我今天就写。” 
“写吧。” 
“我一定写。” 
“假如您听到有什么的确极其不名誉的事情——” 
“我会来告诉您的。” 
“谢谢。” 
腾格拉尔急步走出了房间，一下跳进了他的马车。
Chapter 68 A Summer Ball
 THE SAME DAY during the interview between Madame Danglars and the procureur, a travelling-carriage entered the Rue du Helder, passed through the gateway of No. 27, and stopped in the yard. In a moment the door was opened, and Madame de Morcerf alighted, leaning on her son's arm. Albert soon left her, ordered his horses, and having arranged his toilet, drove to the Champs Elysées, to the house of Monte Cristo. The count received him with his habitual smile. It was a strange thing that no one ever appeared to advance a step in that man's favor. Those who would, as it were, force a passage to his heart, found an impassable barrier. Morcerf, who ran towards him with open arms, was chilled as he drew near, in spite of the friendly smile, and simply held out his hand. Monte Cristo shook it coldly, according to his invariable practice. "Here I am, dear count." 
"Welcome home again." 
"I arrived an hour since." 
"From Dieppe?" 
"No, from Tréport." 
"Indeed?" 
"And I have come at once to see you." 
"That is extremely kind of you," said Monte Cristo with a tone of perfect indifference. 
"And what is the news?" 
"You should not ask a stranger, a foreigner, for news." 
"I know it, but in asking for news, I mean, have you done anything for me?" 
"Had you commissioned me?" said Monte Cristo, feigning uneasiness. 
"Come, come," said Albert, "do not assume so much indifference. It is said, sympathy travels rapidly, and when at Tréport, I felt the electric shock; you have either been working for me or thinking of me." 
"Possibly," said Monte Cristo, "I have indeed thought of you, but the magnetic wire I was guiding acted, indeed, without my knowledge." 
"Indeed? Pray tell me how it happened?" 
"Willingly. M. Danglars dined with me." 
"I know it; to avoid meeting him, my mother and I left town." 
"But he met here M. Andrea Cavalcanti." 
"Your Italian prince?" 
"Not so fast; M. Andrea only calls himself count." 
"Calls himself, do you say?" 
"Yes, calls himself." 
"Is he not a count?" 
"What can I know of him? He calls himself so. I, of course, give him the same title, and every one else does likewise." 
"What a strange man you are! What next? You say M. Danglars dined here?" 
"Yes, with Count Cavalcanti, the marquis his father, Madame Danglars, M. and Madame de Villefort,--charming people,--M. Debray, Maximilian Morrel, and M. de Chateau-Renaud." 
"Did they speak of me?" 
"Not a word." 
"So much the worse." 
"Why so? I thought you wished them to forget you?" 
"If they did not speak of me, I am sure they thought about me, and I am in despair." 
"How will that affect you, since Mademoiselle Danglars was not among the number here who thought of you? Truly, she might have thought of you at home." 
"I have no fear of that; or, if she did, it was only in the same way in which I think of her." 
"Touching sympathy! So you hate each other?" said the count. 
"Listen," said Morcerf--"if Mademoiselle Danglars were disposed to take pity on my supposed martyrdom on her account, and would dispense with all matrimonial formalities between our two families, I am ready to agree to the arrangement. In a word, Mademoiselle Danglars would make a charming mistress--but a wife--diable!" 
"And this," said Monte Cristo, "is your opinion of your intended spouse?" 
"Yes; it is rather unkind, I acknowledge, but it is true. But as this dream cannot be realized, since Mademoiselle Danglars must become my lawful wife, live perpetually with me, sing to me, compose verses and music within ten paces of me, and that for my whole life, it frightens me. One may forsake a mistress, but a wife,--good heavens! There she must always be; and to marry Mademoiselle Danglars would be awful." 
"You are difficult to please, viscount." 
"Yes, for I often wish for what is impossible." 
"What is that?" 
"To find such a wife as my father found." Monte Cristo turned pale, and looked at Albert, while playing with some magnificent pistols. 
"Your father was fortunate, then?" said he. 
"You know my opinion of my mother, count; look at her,--still beautiful, witty, more charming than ever. For any other son to have stayed with his mother for four days at Tréport, it would have been a condescension or a martyrdom, while I return, more contented, more peaceful--shall I say more poetic!--than if I had taken Queen Mab or Titania as my companion." 
"That is an overwhelming demonstration, and you would make every one vow to live a single life." 
"Such are my reasons for not liking to marry Mademoiselle Danglars. Have you ever noticed how much a thing is heightened in value when we obtain possession of it? The diamond which glittered in the window at Marle's or Fossin's shines with more splendor when it is our own; but if we are compelled to acknowledge the superiority of another, and still must retain the one that is inferior, do you not know what we have to endure?" 
"Worldling," murmured the count. 
"Thus I shall rejoice when Mademoiselle Eugénie perceives I am but a pitiful atom, with scarcely as many hundred thousand francs as she has millions." Monte Cristo smiled. "One plan occurred to me," continued Albert; "Franz likes all that is eccentric; I tried to make him fall in love with Mademoiselle Danglars; but in spite of four letters, written in the most alluring style, he invariably answered: 'My eccentricity may be great, but it will not make me break my promise.'" 
"That is what I call devoted friendship, to recommend to another one whom you would not marry yourself." Albert smiled.--"Apropos," continued he, "Franz is coming soon, but it will not interest you; you dislike him, I think?" 
"I?" said Monte Cristo; "my dear Viscount, how have you discovered that I did not like M. Franz! I like every one." 
"And you include me in the expression every one--many thanks!" 
"Let us not mistake," said Monte Cristo; "I love every one as God commands us to love our neighbor, as Christians; but I thoroughly hate but a few. Let us return to M. Franz d'Epinay. Did you say he was coming?" 
"Yes; summoned by M. de Villefort, who is apparently as anxious to get Mademoiselle Valentine married as M. Danglars is to see Mademoiselle Eugénie settled. It must be a very irksome office to be the father of a grown-up daughter; it seems to make one feverish, and to raise one's pulse to ninety beats a minute until the deed is done." 
"But M. d'Epinay, unlike you, bears his misfortune patiently." 
"Still more, he talks seriously about the matter, puts on a white tie, and speaks of his family. He entertains a very high opinion of M. and Madame de Villefort." 
"Which they deserve, do they not?" 
"I believe they do. M. de Villefort has always passed for a severe but a just man." 
"There is, then, one," said Monte Cristo, "whom you do not condemn like poor Danglars?" 
"Because I am not compelled to marry his daughter perhaps," replied Albert, laughing. 
"Indeed, my dear sir," said Monte Cristo, "you are revoltingly foppish." 
"I foppish? how do you mean?" 
"Yes; pray take a cigar, and cease to defend yourself, and to struggle to escape marrying Mademoiselle Danglars. Let things take their course; perhaps you may not have to retract." 
"Bah," said Albert, staring. 
"Doubtless, my dear viscount, you will not be taken by force; and seriously, do you wish to break off your engagement?" 
"I would give a hundred thousand francs to be able to do so." 
"Then make yourself quite easy. M. Danglars would give double that sum to attain the same end." 
"Am I, indeed, so happy?" said Albert, who still could not prevent an almost imperceptible cloud passing across his brow. "But, my dear count, has M. Danglars any reason?" 
"Ah, there is your proud and selfish nature. You would expose the self-love of another with a hatchet, but you shrink if your own is attacked with a needle." 
"But yet M. Danglars appeared"-- 
"Delighted with you, was he not? Well, he is a man of bad taste, and is still more enchanted with another. I know not whom; look and judge for yourself." 
"Thank you, I understand. But my mother--no, not my mother; I mistake--my father intends giving a ball." 
"A ball at this season?" 
"Summer balls are fashionable." 
"If they were not, the countess has only to wish it, and they would become so." 
"You are right; You know they are select affairs; those who remain in Paris in July must be true Parisians. Will you take charge of our invitation to Messieurs Cavalcanti?" 
"When will it take place?" 
"On Saturday." 
"M. Cavalcanti's father will be gone." 
"But the son will be here; will you invite young M. Cavalcanti?" 
"I do not know him, viscount." 
"You do not know him?" 
"No, I never saw him until a few days since, and am not responsible for him." 
"But you receive him at your house?" 
"That is another thing: he was recommended to me by a good abbé, who may be deceived. Give him a direct invitation, but do not ask me to present him. If he were afterwards to marry Mademoiselle Danglars, you would accuse me of intrigue, and would be challenging me,--besides, I may not be there myself." 
"Where?" 
"At your ball." 
"Why should you not be there?" 
"Because you have not yet invited me." 
"But I come expressly for that purpose." 
"You are very kind, but I may be prevented." 
"If I tell you one thing, you will be so amiable as to set aside all impediments." 
"Tell me what it is." 
"My mother begs you to come." 
"The Comtesse de Morcerf?" said Monte Cristo, starting. 
"Ah, count," said Albert, "I assure you Madame de Morcerf speaks freely to me, and if you have not felt those sympathetic fibres of which I spoke just now thrill within you, you must be entirely devoid of them, for during the last four days we have spoken of no one else." 
"You have talked of me?" 
"Yes, that is the penalty of being a living puzzle!" 
"Then I am also a puzzle to your mother? I should have thought her too reasonable to be led by imagination." 
"A problem, my dear count, for every one--for my mother as well as others; much studied, but not solved, you still remain an enigma, do not fear. My mother is only astonished that you remain so long unsolved. I believe, while the Countess G----takes you for Lord Ruthven, my mother imagines you to be Cagliostro or the Count Saint-Germain. The first opportunity you have, confirm her in her opinion; it will be easy for you, as you have the philosophy of the one and the wit of the other." 
"I thank you for the warning," said the count; "I shall endeavor to be prepared for all suppositions." 
"You will, then, come on Saturday?" 
"Yes, since Madame de Morcerf invites me." 
"You are very kind." 
"Will M. Danglars be there?" 
"He has already been invited by my father. We shall try to persuade the great d'Aguesseau, [1] M. de Villefort, to come, but have not much hope of seeing him." 
"'Never despair of anything,' says the proverb." 
"Do you dance, count?" 
"I dance?" 
"Yes, you; it would not be astonishing." 
"That is very well before one is over forty. No, I do not dance, but I like to see others do so. Does Madame de Morcerf dance?" 
"Never; you can talk to her, she so delights in your conversation." 
"Indeed?" 
"Yes, truly; and I assure you. You are the only man of whom I have heard her speak with interest." Albert rose and took his hat; the count conducted him to the door. "I have one thing to reproach myself with," said he, stopping Albert on the steps. "What is it?" 
"I have spoken to you indiscreetly about Danglars." 
"On the contrary, speak to me always in the same strain about him." 
"I am glad to be reassured on that point. Apropos, when do you aspect M. d'Epinay?" 
"Five or six days hence at the latest." 
"And when is he to be married?" 
"Immediately on the arrival of M. and Madame de Saint-Méran." 
"Bring him to see me. Although you say I do not like him, I assure you I shall be happy to see him." 
"I will obey your orders, my lord." 
"Good-by." "Until Saturday, when I may expect you, may I not?" 
"Yes, I promised you." The Count watched Albert, waving his hand to him. When he had mounted his phaeton, Monte Cristo turned, and seeing Bertuccio, "What news?" said he. "She went to the Palais," replied the steward. 
"Did she stay long there?" 
"An hour and a half." 
"Did she return home?" 
"Directly." 
"Well, my dear Bertuccio," said the count, "I now advise you to go in quest of the little estate I spoke to you of in Normandy." Bertuccio bowed, and as his wishes were in perfect harmony with the order he had received, he started the same evening.  
就在腾格拉尔夫人去见检察官那天，一辆旅行马车驶进了海尔达路，穿过了二十七号大门，在园子里停了下来。不一会儿，车门打开，马尔塞夫夫人扶着她儿子的肩膀下车。阿尔贝不久就离开了她，吩咐套马，在打扮了一番之后，就驱车到了香榭丽舍大道，基督山的家里。伯爵带着他那种习惯性的微笑出来迎接他。说来奇怪，伯爵这个人，似乎谁都无法进一步和他密切关系。凡是想和他结成所谓‘知己’的人，会遇到一重无法逾越的障碍。马尔塞夫本来是张开着双臂向他奔过去的，但一到跟前，他的心就冷了，尽管对方的脸上挂着友好的微笑，他却只敢伸出一只手去。基督山以他那不变的习惯，把那只手冷淡地握了一下。 
“唉！”阿尔贝说，“我来啦，亲爱的伯爵。” 
“欢迎你回来！” 
“我是一个钟头以前才到的。” 
“是从迪埃普来的吗？” 
“不，从的黎港来。” 
“啊，真的！” 
“我第一个就来拜访您了。” 
“您真太好了。”基督山用一种完全无所谓的口吻说道。 
“唉！情况怎么样？” 
“您不该向一个客居他乡的外国人打听消息。” 
“我知道，但所谓的打听消息，我的意思是您有没有为我办了什么事？” 
“您曾委托过我办什么事吗？”基督山装出一种很不安的样子说。 
“嘿，嘿！”阿尔贝说，“别假装不知道了。人家说，人隔两地，情通一脉——嗯，在的黎港的时候，我曾感到一阵触电似的麻木。您不是为我办了一些什么事，便是在想念我。” 
“可能吧，”基督山说，“我的确曾想念过您，但我必须承认，那股电流虽然或许是我发出去的，但我自己却并不知道。” 
“真的！请告诉我是怎么回事？” 
“事情很简单，腾格拉尔先生到我这里来吃了一次饭。” 
“这我知道，正是为了避免遇到他，家母和我才离开巴黎的。” 
“但同席的还有安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生。” 
“您那位意大利王子吗？” 
“别那么夸大，安德烈先生还在自称子爵呢。” 
“他自称，您说？” 
“是的，他自称。” 
“那么他不是个子爵喽？” 
“哦！我怎么知道？他这样自称，我当然也就这样称呼他，人人也都这样称呼他。” 
“您这个人真是怪！还有什么？您说腾格拉尔先生在这儿吃过饭？” 
“是的。” 
“还有您那位安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵？” 
“还有卡瓦尔康蒂子爵，他的侯爵父亲，腾格拉尔夫人，维尔福先生夫妇——难得的贵宾——德布雷，马西米兰·莫雷尔，还有谁，等一等——啊！夏多·勒诺先生。” 
“他们提到过我吗？” 
“丝毫没有。” 
“那真糟。” 
“为什么？我好象记得您是希望他们忘记您的？” 
“假如他们没有提到过我，我便可以确定他们曾想到我，我很失望。” 
“只要那些想念您的人里面没有腾格拉尔小姐，对您又有什么影响呢？不错，她或许在家里想念您。” 
“那我倒不怕，假如她的确想念我的话，那也只是象我对她一样的想念而已。” 
“心心相印！那么你们是互相讨厌罗？”伯爵说。 
“听我说！”马尔塞夫说。“假如腾格拉尔小姐能不使我受殉道者的痛苦，不必经过我们两家的正式婚姻手续来报答我的情谊，那对我可就再好不过了。一句话，腾格拉尔小姐可以做个可爱的情妇，但做太太，糟透了！” 
“您就是这样看待您那位未来的太太的吗，”基督山问道。 
“是的，说得更残酷些，这是真的，至少是实情。可是这个梦是无法实现的，因为腾格拉尔小姐必定要作我的太太的。也就是说，一定会和我住在一起。在离我十步路之内对我唱歌、作曲或玩乐器的。我想起来就怕。我们可以抛弃一个情妇，但对于一位太太，老天爷！那就是一回事了。那是永久性的。不管她在身边或在远处，总是永久的东西。一想到腾格拉尔小姐要永远和我在一起，即使大家隔得远远的那也够可怕的。” 
“您真难讨好，子爵。” 
“是的，因为我希望能实现不可能的事情。” 
“什么事？” 
“找到一位象家母那样的妻子。” 
基督山的脸色顿时变白了，他望着阿尔贝，手里在玩弄着那支华丽的手枪。 
“那么令尊很幸福罗？”他说道。 
“您知道我对家母的看法，伯爵。您看看她，还很美丽，很有活力，象以前一样。要是别的当儿子的陪他的母亲到的黎港去住四天，他肯定会觉得枯燥，厌烦，但我陪了她四天，却比陪伴玛琵仙后［民间传说中的仙女，莎士比亚戏剧《罗密欧与朱丽叶》中有详细描写。——译注］或狄达尼亚仙后［莎士比亚戏剧《仲夏夜之梦》中人物。——译注］更满意，更宁静，更——我可以这样说吗？——富于诗意。” 
“那真是十全十美到了极点，您会使人人都发誓要过独身生活啦。” 
“正是为这个原因，”马尔塞夫又说，“由于知道世界上确有十全十美的女子，所以我才并不急于娶腾格拉尔小姐。您有没有注意到，一件东西，当我们得到它的时候，它的价值就会增加？在珠宝店的橱窗里闪闪发光的钻石，当它到了我们自己手里的时候，光彩就更灿烂了，但假如我们不得不承认还有更好的，却依旧保留着较次点的，您知不知道那会让人多么痛苦？” 
“真是欲海无边哪！”伯爵喃喃地说道。 
“所以，假如欧热妮小姐能理解人只是个可怜的小东西，她有几百万，而我连几十万都没有，那我就高兴了。” 
基督山微笑了一下。 
“我曾经想到过一个计划，”阿尔贝继续说，“凡是怪癖的东西，弗兰兹都喜欢。我想设法使他爱上腾格拉尔小姐，但尽管写了四封最具诱惑力的信，他都仍一成不变地回答：‘我的怪癖虽大，但她却不能使我破坏我的诺言。’” 
“这就是我所谓的那真诚的友谊，您自己不愿意娶的人，却拿来推荐给别人。” 
阿尔贝微笑了一下。“顺便告诉您一下，”他又说，“弗兰兹就要来了。但您对那个消息是会感兴趣的。您不喜欢他是吗？” 
“我！”基督山说，“我亲爱的子爵，您怎么会想到我不喜欢弗兰兹先生呢？我喜欢每一个人。” 
“您把我也包括在这‘每一个人’面里了吗？谢谢！” 
“请不要误会，”基督山说，“我爱每一个人就象上帝要我们爱我们的邻居那样。那是基督教意义上的爱，但我也有少数几个极其痛恨的人。我们还是回过头来谈弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生吧。您说他就要回来了？” 
“是的，是维尔福先生召他回来的，维尔福先生显然是急于要把瓦朗蒂娜小姐嫁出去，正如腾格拉尔先生想看到欧热妮小姐早日出阁一样。有一个长大了的女儿在家里，做父亲的一定非常为难，不把她们弄走，他们就象是会发烧一样，每分钟脉搏要跳九十下。” 
“但伊皮奈先生不象您，他耐心地承受了他的不幸。” 
“岂止如此，他谈起那件事来时很严肃，正襟危坐，好象在谈论他自己的家里人似的。而且，他极其尊敬维尔福先生夫妇。” 
“他们是值得尊敬的，是不是？” 
“我相信是的。维尔福先生总是被人看作是一个严厉但却公正的人。” 
“那么，”基督山说，“总算有一个人不象那个可怜的腾格拉尔那样受您责难了。” 
“或许那是因为我不必被迫娶他女儿的缘故吧。”阿尔贝回答，大笑起来。 
“真的，我亲爱的先生，”基督山说，“您太自负了。” 
“我自负？” 
“是的，抽一支雪茄吧。” 
“很愿意。我怎么自负呢？” 
“咦，因为您在这儿拼命为自己辩护，要避免腾格拉尔小姐。但让事情去自然发展吧，或许首先撤退的并不是您。” 
“什么！”阿尔贝瞪着眼睛说道。 
“毫无疑问，子爵阁下，他们是不会强迫您就范的。来吧，正正经经地说吧，您不想废除你们的婚约？” 
“假若能够，我愿意为此付出十万法郎。” 
“那么您可以大大地高兴一番。腾格拉尔先生愿意出双倍于那个数目的钱来达到这一目的。” 
“难道我真的这样幸福吗？”阿尔贝说，他的脸上依旧浮过了一片几乎难以觉察的阴云。“但是，我亲爱的伯爵，腾格拉尔先生有理由这样做吧？” 
“啊！您的骄傲和自私的心里显露出来啦。您可以用一把斧头去攻击别人的自尊心，但假如您自己的自尊心被一根小针刺了一下，您就畏缩了起来。” 
“不是的，但依我看，腾格拉尔先生似乎——” 
“应该喜欢您，是不是，嗯？他的鉴赏能力不高，他好象喜欢另外一个人。” 
“是谁？” 
“我也不知道，您自己去研究和判断吧。” 
“谢谢您，我懂了。听着：家母——不，不是家母，我弄错了——家父准备要开一次舞会。” 
“在这个季节开舞会？” 
“夏季跳舞会是很时兴的。” 
“即使不然，只要一经伯爵夫人提侣，就会时兴起来的。” 
“您说得不错。您知道，这是清一色的舞会——凡是七月里留在巴黎的人，一定是真正的巴黎人。您可不可以代我们邀请两位卡瓦尔康蒂先生？” 
“哪天举行？” 
“星期六。” 
“老卡瓦尔康蒂到那时就已经走了。” 
“但他的儿子还在这儿。您可不可以邀请一下小卡瓦尔康蒂先生？” 
“我不熟悉他，子爵。” 
“您不熟悉他？” 
“不，我是在几天前才和他初次见面的，对于他的事不论从哪方面讲我都没有把握。” 
“但您请他到您的家里来吃过饭的？” 
“那是另一回事，他是一位好心肠的神甫介绍给我的，神甫或许受骗了。你直接去请他吧，别让我代替你去邀请了，假如他将来娶了腾格拉尔小姐，您就会说是我搞的阴谋，要来和我决斗的。再说，我自己也可能不去。” 
“不去哪儿？” 
“你们的舞会。” 
“您为什么不去？” 
“只有一个理由，因为您还没有邀请我。” 
“但我是特地为那项使命才来的呀。” 
“您太赏脸了，但我或许会因事受阻的。” 
“假如我告诉您一件事情，您就会排除一切障碍屈驾光临了。” 
“告诉我什么事。” 
“家母恳请您去。” 
“马尔塞夫伯爵夫人？”基督山吃了一惊。 
“啊，伯爵，”阿尔贝说，“我向您保证，马尔塞夫夫人跟我说得很坦白，假如您没有那种我刚才提到过的远地交感的感触，那一定是您身体里根本没有这种神经，因为在过去的这四天里，我们除了你没谈论到任何别人。” 
“你们在谈论我？多谢厚爱！” 
“是的，那是您的特权，您是一个活的话题。” 
“那么，在令堂眼中，我也是一个问题吗？我还以为她很理智，不会有这种幻想呢。” 
“我亲爱的伯爵，您是每一个的问题——家母的，也是别人的，很多人研究你，但没有得出结论，您依旧还是一个谜，所以您尽管放心好了。家母老是问，您怎么这样年轻。我相信，Ｇ伯爵夫人虽然把您比做罗思文勋爵，而家母却把您看作了卡略斯特洛［卡略斯特洛（一七四三—一七九五），意大利著名骗子，后被判终身监禁。——译注］或圣日尔曼伯爵［圣日尔曼伯爵（一七八四卒），法国冒险家，为法王路易十五从事各种政治阴谋活动。——译注］。您一有机会就可以证实她的看法，这在您是很容易做到的，因为您有前者的点金石和后者的智慧。” 
“我谢谢您的提醒，”伯爵说，“我尽力去应付来自各方面的对我的揣测就是了。” 
“那么，星期六您来？” 
“来的，既然马尔塞夫夫人邀请我。” 
“您太赏脸了。” 
“腾格拉尔先生去不去？” 
“家父已经邀请他了。我们当设法去劝请那位大法官维尔福先生也来，但他可能会使我们失望的。” 
“俗话说，‘永远不要失望。’” 
“您跳舞吗，伯爵？” 
“跳舞？” 
“是的，您。这有什么可大惊小怪的？” 
“跳舞对于未满四十岁的人来说真是最合适不过了。不，我是不跳舞的，但我喜欢看别人跳。马尔塞夫夫人跳舞吗？” 
“从没跳过，您可以和她聊聊天，她非常希望能和您谈一谈。” 
“真的！” 
“是的，的确是真的，我向您保证，您是她唯一曾显示过那种好奇心的人。” 
阿尔贝起身拿起了他的帽子，伯爵陪他到了门口。“我有一件事很后悔。”走到台阶前，他止住阿尔贝说道。 
“行，什么事？” 
“我跟您讲到腾格拉尔的时候，有点失礼了。” 
“恰恰相反，关于他，永远用同样的态度跟我讲好了。” 
“那好！这我就放心了。顺便问一句，您认为伊皮奈先生何时候能到？” 
“最迟五六天可到。” 
“他什么时候结婚？” 
“圣·梅朗先生夫妇一到，就立刻结婚。” 
“带他来见我。尽管您说我不喜欢他，但我向您保证，我倒是高兴能见见他。” 
“遵命，爵爷。” 
“再会。” 
“星期六再会，届时我一定恭候您，希望不会落空。” 
“好的，我一定来。” 
伯爵目送着阿尔贝上了车，阿尔贝连连向他挥手道别。当他踏上他的轻便四轮马车以后，基督山转过身来，看到了贝尔图乔。“有什么消息？”他问。 
“她到法院去了一次。”管家回答。 
“在那儿停留了多久？” 
“一个半钟头。” 
“她有没有回家？” 
“直接回家去了。” 
“好，我亲爱的贝尔图乔，”伯爵说，“我现在劝你去寻找一下我对你说过的诺曼底的那处小产业。” 
贝尔图乔鞠了一躬，他所得到的这个命令正中他的下怀，所以他当天晚上就出发了。” 
Chapter 69 The Inquiry
 M. DE VILLEFORT kept the promise he had made to Madame Danglars, to endeavor to find out how the Count of Monte Cristo had discovered the history of the house at Auteuil. He wrote the same day for the required information to M. de Boville, who, from having been an inspector of prisons, was promoted to a high office in the police; and the latter begged for two days time to ascertain exactly who would be most likely to give him full particulars. At the end of the second day M. de Villefort received the following note:-- 
"The person called the Count of Monte Cristo is an intimate acquaintance of Lord Wilmore, a rich foreigner, who is sometimes seen in Paris and who is there at this moment; he is also known to the Abbé Busoni, a Sicilian priest, of high repute in the East, where he has done much good." 
M. de Villefort replied by ordering the strictest inquiries to be made respecting these two persons; his orders were executed, and the following evening he received these details:-- 
"The abbé, who was in Paris only for a month, inhabited a small two-storied house behind Saint-Sulpice; there were two rooms on each floor and he was the only tenant. The two lower rooms consisted of a dining-room, with a table, chairs, and side-board of walnut,--and a wainscoted parlor, without ornaments, carpet, or timepiece. It was evident that the abbé limited himself to objects of strict necessity. He preferred to use the sitting-room upstairs, which was more library than parlor, and was furnished with theological books and parchments, in which he delighted to bury himself for months at a time, according to his valet de chambre. His valet looked at the visitors through a sort of wicket; and if their faces were unknown to him or displeased him, he replied that the abbé was not in Paris, an answer which satisfied most persons, because the abbé was known to be a great traveller. Besides, whether at home or not, whether in Paris or Cairo, the abbé always left something to give away, which the valet distributed through this wicket in his master's name. The other room near the library was a bedroom. A bed without curtains, four arm-chairs, and a couch, covered with yellow Utrecht velvet, composed, with a prie-Dieu, all its furniture. Lord Wilmore resided in Rue Fontaine-Saint-George. He was one of those English tourists who consume a large fortune in travelling. He hired the apartment in which he lived furnished, passed only a few hours in the day there, and rarely slept there. One of his peculiarities was never to speak a word of French, which he however wrote with great facility." 
The day after this important information had been given to the king's attorney, a man alighted from a carriage at the corner of the Rue Férou, and rapping at an olive-green door, asked if the Abbé Busoni were within. "No, he went out early this morning," replied the valet. 
"I might not always be content with that answer," replied the visitor, "for I come from one to whom everyone must be at home. But have the kindness to give the Abbé Busoni"-- 
"I told you he was not at home," repeated the valet. "Then on his return give him that card and this sealed paper. Will he be at home at eight o'clock this evening?" 
"Doubtless, unless he is at work, which is the same as if he were out." 
"I will come again at that time," replied the visitor, who then retired. 
At the appointed hour the same man returned in the same carriage, which, instead of stopping this time at the end of the Rue Férou, drove up to the green door. He knocked, and it opened immediately to admit him. From the signs of respect the valet paid him, he saw that his note had produced a good effect. "Is the abbé at home?" asked he. 
"Yes; he is at work in his library, but he expects you, sir," replied the valet. The stranger ascended a rough staircase, and before a table, illumined by a lamp whose light was concentrated by a large shade while the rest of the apartment was in partial darkness, he perceived the abbé in a monk's dress, with a cowl on his head such as was used by learned men of the Middle Ages. "Have I the honor of addressing the Abbé Busoni?" asked the visitor. 
"Yes, sir," replied the abbé; "and you are the person whom M. de Boville, formerly an inspector of prisons, sends to me from the prefect of police?" 
"Exactly, sir." 
"One of the agents appointed to secure the safety of Paris?" 
"Yes, sir"" replied the stranger with a slight hesitation, and blushing. 
The abbé replaced the large spectacles, which covered not only his eyes but his temples, and sitting down motioned to his visitor to do the same. "I am at your service, sir," said the abbé, with a marked Italian accent. 
"The mission with which I am charged, sir," replied the visitor, speaking with hesitation, "is a confidential one on the part of him who fulfils it, and him by whom he is employed." The abbé bowed. "Your probity," replied the stranger, "is so well known to the prefect that he wishes as a magistrate to ascertain from you some particulars connected with the public safety, to ascertain which I am deputed to see you. It is hoped that no ties of friendship or humane consideration will induce you to conceal the truth." 
"Provided, sir, the particulars you wish for do not interfere with my scruples or my conscience. I am a priest, sir, and the secrets of confession, for instance, must remain between me and God, and not between me and human justice." 
"Do not alarm yourself, monsieur, we will duly respect your conscience." 
At this moment the abbé pressed down his side of the shade and so raised it on the other, throwing a bright light on the stranger's face, while his own remained obscured. "Excuse me, abbé," said the envoy of the prefect of the police, "but the light tries my eyes very much." The abbé lowered the shade. "Now, sir, I am listening--go on." 
"I will come at once to the point. Do you know the Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"You mean Monsieur Zaccone, I presume?" 
"Zaccone?--is not his name Monte Cristo?" 
"Monte Cristo is the name of an estate, or, rather, of a rock, and not a family name." 
"Well, be it so--let us not dispute about words; and since M. de Monte Cristo and M. Zaccone are the same"-- 
"Absolutely the same." 
"Let us speak of M. Zaccone." 
"Agreed." 
"I asked you if you knew him?" 
"Extremely well." 
"Who is he?" 
"The son of a rich shipbuilder in Malta." 
"I know that is the report; but, as you are aware, the police does not content itself with vague reports." 
"However," replied the abbé, with an affable smile, "when that report is in accordance with the truth, everybody must believe it, the police as well as all the rest." 
"Are you sure of what you assert?" 
"What do you mean by that question?" 
"Understand, sir, I do not in the least suspect your veracity; I ask if you are certain of it?" 
"I knew his father, M. Zaccone." 
"Ah, indeed?" 
"And when a child I often played with the son in the timber-yards." 
"But whence does he derive the title of count?" 
"You are aware that may be bought." 
"In Italy?" 
"Everywhere." 
"And his immense riches, whence does he procure them?" 
"They may not be so very great." 
"How much do you suppose he possesses?" 
"From one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand livres per annum." 
"That is reasonable," said the visitor; "I have heard he had three or four millions." 
"Two hundred thousand per annum would make four millions of capital." 
"But I was told he had four millions per annum?" 
"That is not probable." 
"Do you know this Island of Monte Cristo?" 
"Certainly, every one who has come from Palermo, Naples, or Rome to France by sea must know it, since he has passed close to it and must have seen it." 
"I am told it is a delightful place?" 
"It is a rock." 
"And why has the count bought a rock?" 
"For the sake of being a count. In Italy one must have territorial possessions to be a count." 
"You have, doubtless, heard the adventures of M. Zaccone's youth?" 
"The father's?" 
"No, the son's." 
"I know nothing certain; at that period of his life, I lost sight of my young comrade." 
"Was he in the wars?" 
"I think he entered the service." 
"In what branch?" 
"In the navy." 
"Are you not his confessor?" 
"No, sir; I believe he is a Lutheran." 
"A Lutheran?" 
"I say, I believe such is the case, I do not affirm it; besides, liberty of conscience is established in France." 
"Doubtless, and we are not now inquiring into his creed, but his actions; in the name of the prefect of police, I ask you what you know of him. 
"He passes for a very charitable man. Our holy father, the pope, has made him a knight of Jesus Christ for the services he rendered to the Christians in the East; he has five or six rings as testimonials from Eastern monarchs of his services." 
"Does he wear them?" 
"No, but he is proud of them; he is better pleased with rewards given to the benefactors of man than to his destroyers." 
"He is a Quaker then?" 
"Exactly, he is a Quaker, with the exception of the peculiar dress." 
"Has he any friends?" 
"Yes, every one who knows him is his friend." 
"But has he any enemies?" 
"One only." 
"What is his name?" 
"Lord Wilmore." 
"Where is he?" 
"He is in Paris just now." 
"Can he give me any particulars?" 
"Important ones; he was in India with Zaccone." 
"Do you know his abode?" 
"It's somewhere in the Chaussée d'Antin; but I know neither the street nor the number." 
"Are you at variance with the Englishman?" 
"I love Zaccone, and he hates him; we are consequently not friends." 
"Do you think the Count of Monte Cristo had ever been in France before he made this visit to Paris?" 
"To that question I can answer positively; no, sir, he had not, because he applied to me six months ago for the particulars he required, and as I did not know when I might again come to Paris, I recommended M. Cavalcanti to him." 
"Andrea?" 
"No, Bartolomeo, his father." 
"Now, sir, I have but one question more to ask, and I charge you, in the name of honor, of humanity, and of religion, to answer me candidly." 
"What is it, sir?" 
"Do you know with what design M. de Monte Cristo purchased a house at Auteuil?" 
"Certainly, for he told me." 
"What is it, sir?" 
"To make a lunatic asylum of it, similar to that founded by the Count of Pisani at Palermo. Do you know about that institution?" 
"I have heard of it." 
"It is a magnificent charity." Having said this, the abbé bowed to imply he wished to pursue his studies. The visitor either understood the abbé's meaning, or had no more questions to ask; he arose, and the abbé accompanied him to the door. "You are a great almsgiver," said the visitor, "and although you are said to be rich, I will venture to offer you something for your poor people; will you accept my offering?" 
"I thank you, sir; I am only jealous in one thing, and that is that the relief I give should be entirely from my own resources." 
"However"-- 
"My resolution, sir, is unchangeable, but you have only to search for yourself and you will find, alas, but too many objects upon whom to exercise your benevolence." The abbé once more bowed as he opened the door, the stranger bowed and took his leave, and the carriage conveyed him straight to the house of M. de Villefort. An hour afterwards the carriage was again ordered, and this time it went to the Rue Fontaine-Saint-George, and stopped at No. 5, where Lord Wilmore lived. The stranger had written to Lord Wilmore, requesting an interview, which the latter had fixed for ten o'clock. As the envoy of the prefect of police arrived ten minutes before ten, he was told that Lord Wilmore, who was precision and punctuality personified, was not yet come in, but that he would be sure to return as the clock struck. 
The visitor was introduced into the drawing-room, which was like all other furnished drawing-rooms. A mantle-piece, with two modern Sèvres vases, a timepiece representing Cupid with his bent bow, a mirror with an engraving on each side--one representing Homer carrying his guide, the other, Belisarius begging--a grayish paper; red and black tapestry--such was the appearance of Lord Wilmore's drawing-room. It was illuminated by lamps with ground-glass shades which gave only a feeble light, as if out of consideration for the envoy's weak sight. After ten minutes' expectation the clock struck ten; at the fifth stroke the door opened and Lord Wilmore appeared. He was rather above the middle height, with thin reddish whiskers, light complexion and light hair, turning rather gray. He was dressed with all the English peculiarity, namely, in a blue coat, with gilt buttons and high collar, in the fashion of 1811, a white kerseymere waistcoat, and nankeen pantaloons, three inches too short, but which were prevented by straps from slipping up to the knee. His first remark on entering was,--"You know, sir, I do not speak French?" 
"I know you do not like to converse in our language," replied the envoy. "But you may use it," replied Lord Wilmore; "I understand it." 
"And I," replied the visitor, changing his idiom, "know enough of English to keep up the conversation. Do not put yourself to the slightest inconvenience." 
"Aw?" said Lord Wilmore, with that tone which is only known to natives of Great Britain. 
The envoy presented his letter of introduction, which the latter read with English coolness, and having finished,--"I understand," said he, "perfectly." 
Then began the questions, which were similar to those which had been addressed to the Abbé Busoni. But as Lord Wilmore, in the character of the count's enemy, was less restrained in his answers, they were more numerous; he described the youth of Monte Cristo, who he said, at ten years of age, entered the service of one of the petty sovereigns of India who make war on the English. It was there Wilmore had first met him and fought against him; and in that war Zaccone had been taken prisoner, sent to England, and consigned to the hulks, whence he had escaped by swimming. Then began his travels, his duels, his caprices; then the insurrection in Greece broke out, and he had served in the Grecian ranks. While in that service he had discovered a silver mine in the mountains of Thessaly, but he had been careful to conceal it from every one. After the battle of Navarino, when the Greek government was consolidated, he asked of King Otho a mining grant for that district, which was given him. Hence that immense fortune, which, in Lord Wilmore's opinion, possibly amounted to one or two millions per annum,--a precarious fortune, which might be momentarily lost by the failure of the mine. 
"But," asked the visitor, "do you know why he came to France?" 
"He is speculating in railways," said Lord Wilmore, "and as he is an expert chemist and physicist, he has invented a new system of telegraphy, which he is seeking to bring to perfection." 
"How much does he spend yearly?" asked the prefect. 
"Not more than five or six hundred thousand francs," said Lord Wilmore; "he is a miser." Hatred evidently inspired the Englishman, who, knowing no other reproach to bring on the count, accused him of avarice. "Do you know his house at Auteuil?" 
"Certainly." 
"What do you know respecting it?" 
"Do you wish to know why he bought it?" 
"Yes." 
"The count is a speculator, who will certainly ruin himself in experiments. He supposes there is in the neighborhood of the house he has bought a mineral spring equal to those at Bagneres, Luchon, and Cauterets. He is going to turn his house into a Badhaus, as the Germans term it. He has already dug up all the garden two or three times to find the famous spring, and, being unsuccessful, he will soon purchase all the contiguous houses. Now, as I dislike him, and hope his railway, his electric telegraph, or his search for baths, will ruin him, I am watching for his discomfiture, which must soon take place." 
"What was the cause of your quarrel?" 
"When he was in England he seduced the wife of one of my friends." 
"Why do you not seek revenge?" 
"I have already fought three duels with him," said the Englishman, "the first with the pistol, the second with the sword, and the third with the sabre." 
"And what was the result of those duels?" 
"The first time, he broke my arm; the second, he wounded me in the breast; and the third time, made this large wound." The Englishman turned down his shirt-collar, and showed a scar, whose redness proved it to be a recent one. "So that, you see, there is a deadly feud between us." 
"But," said the envoy, "you do not go about it in the right way to kill him, if I understand you correctly." 
"Aw?" said the Englishman, "I practice shooting every day, and every other day Grisier comes to my house." 
This was all the visitor wished to ascertain, or, rather, all the Englishman appeared to know. The agent arose, and having bowed to Lord Wilmore, who returned his salutation with the stiff politeness of the English, he retired. Lord Wilmore, having heard the door close after him, returned to his bedroom, where with one hand he pulled off his light hair, his red whiskers, his false jaw, and his wound, to resume the black hair, dark complexion, and pearly teeth of the Count of Monte Cristo. It was M. de Villefort, and not the prefect, who returned to the house of M. de Villefort. The procureur felt more at ease, although he had learned nothing really satisfactory, and, for the first time since the dinner-party at Auteuil, he slept soundly.  
维尔福先生信守着他对腾格拉尔夫人许下的诺言，极力去调查基督山伯爵究竟是怎样发现欧特伊别墅的历史的。他在当天就写信给了波维里先生（波维里先生已经从典狱长了升到了警务部的大臣），向他索要他所需要的情报；后者请求给他两天的时间去进行调查，届时大概就可以把所需的情报提供给他了。第二天晚上，维尔福先生收到下面这张条子：“基督山伯爵有两个好朋友，一个是威玛勋爵，是一个有钱的外国人，行踪不定，目前在巴黎；另一个是布沙尼神甫，是一个在东方广行善事、颇得该地人士称誉的意大利教士。” 
维尔福先生回信吩咐严密调查这两个人的一切情况。他的命令很快被执行了，第二天晚上，他接到了一份详细的报告：“神甫到巴黎已经一个月，住在圣·苏尔莫斯教堂后面的一座租来的小房子里，有上下两层，每层有两个房间。接下的两个房间中的一间是餐厅，房子有桌子一张，椅子数把，胡桃木碗柜一只；另一间是镶着壁板的客厅，并无壁饰、地毯或时钟。神甫显然只购置纯对必需的用具。神甫很喜欢楼上的那个起坐间，里面堆满神学书和经典，一个月来，他常常埋头在书堆里，所以那个房间倒不象是起居室，而象是一间书房。他的仆人先要从一个门洞里望一望访客，如果来者绝不认识或不喜欢，就回答说神甫不在巴黎——这个答复能使大多数人满意，因为大家都知道神甫是一位大旅行家。而且，不论是否在家，不论在巴黎或开罗，神甫总留下一些东西施舍给来访的人，那个仆人就用他主人的名义从门洞里把东西分散给人。书房旁边另外那个房间是寝室。全部家具只有一张没有帐子的床、四把圈椅和一只铺黄色天鹅绒厚垫的睡帽。 
威玛勋爵住在圣·乔琪街。他是一个英国旅行家，在旅行中花掉的钱特别多。他的房子和家具都是租的，白天只在那里逗留几个钟头，而且极少在那儿过夜。他有一个怪脾气，就是从来不说一句法国话，却能写纯正的法文。” 
在检察官得到这些详细情况的第二天，有个人驱车到费洛街的拐角处下车，走去敲一扇深绿色的门，要见布沙尼神甫。 
“不在家，他今天一早就出去了。”仆人回答说。 
“这个答复不能使我满意，”来客答道，“因为对于派我来的那个人，是没有人会说自己不在家的，还是请你劳神去告诉布沙尼神甫——” 
“我已经告诉你他不在家啦！”仆人又说。 
“那么，当他回来的时候，把这张名片和这封盖过封印的信交给他。他今天晚上八点钟在不在家？” 
“当然在的。除非他在工作，那他也就和出门一样了。” 
“那我今晚八点再来。”来客说完，就走了。 
果然到了指定时间，那个人还是乘着那辆马车来了，但这一次马车并不停在费洛街的街尾，而是停在那扇绿门前面。 
他一敲门，门就开了他走了进去。根据仆人对他的恭敬殷勤的态度上，他看出那封信已产生了预期的效果。“神甫在家吗？”他问。 
“是的，他在书房里工作，他在恭候您，先生。”听差回答。来客走上一座很陡的楼梯，迎面看到神甫坐在桌子前面。 
桌子上有一盏灯，灯罩很大，把灯光都集中在桌面上，使得房间里其余部分相当黑暗，他看见神甫穿着一件和尚长袍，头上戴着中世纪学者所用的那种头巾。“幸会，幸会，阁下就是布沙尼神甫吗？”来客问。 
“是的，阁下，”神甫回答，“而您就是那位以前做过典狱长，现任警察总监波维里先生派来的使者吗？” 
“一点不错，阁下。” 
“身负巴黎保安重任的一位使者？” 
“是的，阁下。”来客犹像了一下，脸也有些红了。 
神甫把眼镜架好，这副大眼镜不但遮住两眼，并且连他的颧骨也遮住了，他又重新坐下来，并示意来客也就座。“我悉听您的吩咐，阁下。”神甫带着很明显的意大利口音说。 
“我所负的使命，阁下，”来客一字一顿地说，“不论是对完成这项使命的，还是对作为这项使命的对象，都是机密的。” 
神甫鞠了一躬。“您的正直，”来客继续说，“总监是早有耳闻的，现在，他作为法官，希望要从您这儿了解一点有关社会治安的情况。为了了解这些情况，他委托我来见您。希望不要碍于友谊或人情而不会使您掩饰事实的真相。” 
“阁下，只要您所了解的情况不至于给我带来良心上的不安就行。我是一个教士，阁下，譬如说，人们在忏悔的时候所讲出来的秘密，那就必须由我保留由上帝裁判，而不是保留给人类的法庭。 
“您别担心，神甫阁下，我们会尊重您的良心安宁。” 
这个时候，神甫把靠近自己那一边的灯罩压得更低一些，另外那一边就翘了起来，使来客的脸被照亮了，而他自己则仍在暗处。 
“对不起，神甫阁下，”警察总监的使者说，“灯光太刺眼了。” 
神甫把灯罩压低，“现在，阁下，”他说，“我在恭听了，请说吧！” 
“我来直截了当地说。您认识基督山伯爵先生吗？” 
“我想您是指柴康先生吧？” 
“柴康！这么说他不叫基督山？” 
“基督山是一个地名，或说得更确切些，是一座岩礁的名字，不是一个姓。” 
“好吧，既然基督山先生和柴康先生是一个人，我们就不必在字面上争论了。” 
“绝对是一个人。” 
“我们就来谈谈柴康先生吧。” 
“好吧。” 
“我刚才问您认不认识他？” 
“我和他很熟。” 
“他是谁？” 
“一个有钱的马耳他造船商的儿子。” 
“我知道，报告上也这么说。但是，您知道，警务部对空泛的报告不会满意的。 
“但是，”神甫温和地微笑着答道，“当报告与事实相符的时候，谁都必须相信——别人得相信，警务部也得相信。” 
“但您能确信这一点吗？” 
“您是什么意思？” 
“阁下，我对于您的诚实并无丝毫怀疑，我只是问您，您对于这一点能不能确定？” 
“我认识他的父亲柴康先生。” 
“啊，啊！” 
“小时候，我常常和他的儿子在船坞里玩耍。” 
“但他这个伯爵的头衔是哪儿得来的？” 
“您知道那是可以买到的。” 
“在意大利？” 
“到处都行。” 
“而他的财产，据一般人说，简直是无限——” 
“哦，关于这一点，”神甫说，“‘无限’用得很恰当。” 
“您以为他有多少财产？” 
“每年十五万至二十万里弗左右的利息。” 
“这也在情理之中，”来客说，“我听说他有三四百万呢！” 
“每年二千万里弗收益金就得四百万本。” 
“但我听说他每年有四百万的利息收入。” 
“哦，那是不可信的。” 
“您知道那个基督山岛？” 
“当然，凡是从巴勒莫、那不勒斯或罗马经海道来的法国人，都知道这个岛，因为他们都必须从岛的附近经过，看得到它。” 
“据说那是一个迷人的地方。” 
“那是一座岩山。” 
“伯爵为什么要买一座岩山呢？” 
“为了要做一个伯爵。在意大利，如果想当伯爵，就必须有一处采地。” 
“您想必听到过柴康先生青年时代的冒险经历吧？” 
“那位父亲？” 
“不，他的儿子。” 
“这我知道得不确切，那个时期我没有看到我那青年朋友。” 
“他去从军了吗？” 
“我好象记得他当过兵。” 
“加入哪一军种？” 
“海军。” 
“您作为神甫，他向您忏悔过吗？” 
“不，先生，我想他是一个路德教徒。” 
“一个路德教徒？” 
“我说我想如此，我没有肯定，而且，我以为法国是有信仰自由的。” 
“当然，我们现在所调查的不是他的信仰，而他的行动。我代表警察总监请求您把您所知道的关于他的一切都告诉我。” 
“大家认为他是一个乐善好施的人。基于他对东方基督教徒所做的杰出贡献，教皇曾封他为基督爵士——这种荣誉一向是只赐给亲王的。他还有五六种尊贵的勋章，都是东方诸国国王报答他种种贡献的纪念品。” 
“他戴不戴那些勋章？” 
“不戴，但他很以此为荣。他说过他喜欢的是给人类的造福者的褒奖，而不是给人类的破坏者犒赏。” 
“那么他是个教友派信徒了？” 
“一点不错，他是教友派信徒，只是他从不穿那种古怪的衣服而已。” 
“他有没有朋友？” 
“有，凡是认识他的人都是他的朋友。” 
“但有没有仇人呢？” 
“只有一个。” 
“那个人叫什么名字？” 
“威玛勋爵。” 
“他在哪儿？” 
“他现在巴黎。” 
“他能不能给我一些消息？” 
“他可以提供给您重要的消息，他曾在印度和柴康相处过一段日子” 
“您知道他住哪儿？” 
“大概在安顿大马路那一带，但街名和门牌号码我都不知道。” 
“您跟那个英国人关系不好，是吗？” 
“我爱柴康，他恨柴康，所以我们关系不太好。” 
“您是否以为基督山伯爵在这次访问巴黎以前，从没有到过法国？” 
“对于这个问题，我可以打保票。不，阁下，他从来没有到过这儿，因为半年以前，他还向我打听过法国的情况。”因为不知道自己什么时候回巴黎，我就介绍卡瓦尔康蒂先生去见他。” 
“安德烈吗？” 
“不，是他的父亲，巴陀米奥。” 
“阁下，我现在只有一个问题要问了。我凭人格、人道和宗教名义，要求您坦白地回答我。” 
“请问吧，阁下。” 
“您知不知道基督山先生在欧特伊买房子是什么目的？” 
“当然知道，他告诉过我。” 
“是什么目的，阁下？” 
“他要办一所精神病院，象庇沙尼男爵在巴勒莫所办的那所一样。您知不知道那所精神病院？” 
“我听说过。” 
“那是一种很了不起的机构。”说完了这句话，神甫就鞠了一躬，表示他要继续做他的研究工作了。来客不知是懂得神甫的意思，还是他再没有别的问题要问了。他站起身来，神甫送他到门口。 
“您是一位大慈善家，”来客说，“虽然人家都说您很有钱，但我愿意冒昧地捐献一些东西，请您代我施舍给穷人。您愿不愿意接受我的捐款？” 
“谢谢您，阁下，我在世上只有一件事情看得特别重，就是，我所施舍的必须完全出于我自己的经济来源。” 
“但是——” 
“我的决心是无法改变的，但您只要自己去找，总是找得到的，唉！您可以施舍的对象太多啦。”神甫一面开门，一面又鞠了一躬，来客也鞠躬告辞。那马车又出发了，这一次，它驶到至·乔琪街，停在五号门前，那就是威玛勋爵所住的地方。来客曾写信给威玛勋爵，约定在十点钟的时候前来拜访。 
警察总监的使者到的时候是十点差十分，仆人告诉他说，威玛勋爵还没回家，但他为人极守时间，十点钟一定会回来的。 
来客在客厅等着，客厅里的布置象其他一切连家具出租的客厅一样。没有特别的地方，一只壁炉，壁炉架上放着两只新式的瓷花瓶：一架挂钟，挂钟顶上连着一具张弓待发的恋爱神童像；一面两边都刻花的屏风一边刻的是荷马盲行图，另一边是贝利赛行乞图；灰色的糊壁纸；用黑色饰边的红色窗帘。这就是威玛勋爵的客厅。房间里点着几盏灯，但毛玻璃的灯罩光线看起来很微弱，象是考虑到警察总监的密使受不了强烈的光线而特意安排的，十分钟以后，挂钟开始敲十点钟，敲到第五下，门开了，威玛勋爵出现在门口。他的个子略高于中等身材，长着暗红色的稀疏的髭须，脸色很白，金黄色的头发已有些灰白。他的衣服完全显示出英国人的特征——就是：一件一八一一年式的高领蓝色上装，上面钉着镀金的纽扣；一件羊毛背心；一条紫花布的裤子，裤脚管比平常的短三吋，但有吊带扣在鞋底上，所以也不会滑到膝头上去。他一进来，就用英语说：“阁下，您知道我是不说法语的。” 
“我知道您不喜欢用我国的语言谈话。”密使回答。 
“但您可以说法语，”威玛勋爵答道，“因为我虽然不讲这种语言，但我听得懂。” 
“而我，”来客改口用英语回答，“我也懂得一些英语，可以用英语谈话。您不必感觉不便。” 
“噢！”威玛勋爵用那种只有道地的大不列颠人民才能懂得的腔调说。 
密使拿出他的介绍信后，威玛勋爵带着英国人那种冷淡的态度把它看了一遍，看完以后，他仍用英语说，“我明白，我完全明白。” 
于是就开始提问。那些问题和问布沙尼神甫的差不多。但因为威玛勋爵是伯爵的仇人，所以他的答案不象神甫那样谨慎，答得随便而直率。他谈了基督山青年时代的情况，他说伯爵在二十岁的时候就在印度一个小王国的军队里服役和英国人作战；威玛就是在那儿第一次和他相见并第一次和他发生战斗。在那场战争里，柴康成了俘虏，被押解到英国，关在一艘囚犯船里，在途中他潜水逃走了。此后他就开始到处旅行，到处决斗，到处闹桃色事件。希腊发生内乱的时候，他在希腊军队里服役。那次服役期间，他在塞萨利山上发现了一个银矿，但他的口风很紧，把这件事瞒过了每一个人。纳瓦里诺战役结束后，希腊政府局面稳定，他向国王奥图要求那个区域的开矿权，国王就给了他。他因此成了巨富。据威玛勋爵的意见，他每年的收入达一两百万之多，但那种财产是不稳定的，一旦银矿枯竭，他的好运也就到头了。 
“那么，”来客说，“您知道他到法国来的目的吗？” 
“他是来作铁路投机的，”威玛勋爵说，“他是一个老练的药物学家，也是一个同样出色的物理学家，他发明一种新的电报技术，他正在寻门路，想推广他这的新发现哩。” 
“他每年花多少钱？”总监的密使问。 
“不过五六十万法郎，”威玛勋爵说，“他是一个守财奴。” 
英国人之所以这么说显然由于仇恨他的缘故，因为他在别的方面无可指责伯爵，就骂他吝啬。 
“您知不知道他在欧特伊所买的那座房子？” 
“当然知道。” 
“您知道些什么？” 
“您想知道他为什么买那所房子吗？” 
“是的。” 
“伯爵是一个投机家，他将来一定会因为那些乌托邦式的实验弄得自己倾家荡产。他认为在他所买的那座房子附近，有一道象巴尼里斯、罗春和卡德斯那样的温泉。他想把他的房子改成德国人所说的那种‘寄宿疗养院’。他已经把整个花园挖了两三遍，想找到温泉的泉源，但没有成功，所以他不久就会把邻近的房子都买下来。我讨厌他，我希望他的铁路、他的电报技术、他的寻觅温泉会弄得他倾家荡产，我正在等着看他失败，不久他一定会失败的。” 
“为什么这么恨他？” 
“在英国的时候，他勾引我一个朋友的太太。” 
“您为什么不向他报仇呢？” 
“我已经和他决斗过三次了，”英国人说，“第一次用手枪，第二次用剑，第三次用双手长剑。” 
“那几次决斗的结果如何？？ 
“第一次，他打断了我的胳膊。第二次，他刺伤了我的胸部。第三次，他给我留下了这个伤疤。”英国人翻开他的衬衫领子，露出一处伤疤，疤痕还是鲜红的，证明这是一个新伤。 
“所以我跟他有不共戴天之仇，他一定会死在我的手里。” 
“但是，”那位密使说，“据我看来，您似乎不能杀死他呀。” 
“噢！”英国人说，“我天天都在练习打靶，每隔一天，格里塞要到我家里来一次。” 
来客想打听的事情已完了，说得更确切些，那个英国人所知道的事情似乎尽止于此了。警察总监的使者站起身来告退，向威玛勋爵鞠了一躬，威玛勋爵也按英国人的礼数硬梆梆地还他一礼。当他听到大门关上的声音的时候，他就回到卧室里，一手扯掉他那浅黄色的头发、他那暗红色的髭须、他的假下巴和他的伤疤，重新露出基督山伯爵那种乌黑的头发和洁白的牙齿。至于回到维尔福先生家里去的那个人，也并不是警察总监的密使，而是维尔福先生本人。检察官虽然并没有打听到真正令他满意的消息，但他已安心不少，自从去欧特伊赴宴以来，他第一次安安稳稳地睡了一夜。   
Chapter 70 The Ball
 IT WAS in the warmest days of July, when in due course of time the Saturday arrived upon which the ball was to take place at M. de Morcerf's. It was ten o'clock at night; the branches of the great trees in the garden of the count's house stood out boldly against the azure canopy of heaven, which was studded with golden stars, but where the last fleeting clouds of a vanishing storm yet lingered. From the apartments on the ground-floor might be heard the sound of music, with the whirl of the waltz and galop, while brilliant streams of light shone through the openings of the Venetian blinds. At this moment the garden was only occupied by about ten servants, who had just received orders from their mistress to prepare the supper, the serenity of the weather continuing to increase. Until now, it had been undecided whether the supper should take place in the dining-room, or under a long tent erected on the lawn, but the beautiful blue sky, studded with stars, had settled the question in favor of the lawn. The gardens were illuminated with colored lanterns, according to the Italian custom, and, as is usual in countries where the luxuries of the table--the rarest of all luxuries in their complete form--are well understood, the supper-table was loaded with wax-lights and flowers. 
At the time the Countess of Morcerf returned to the rooms, after giving her orders, many guests were arriving, more attracted by the charming hospitality of the countess than by the distinguished position of the count; for, owing to the good taste of Mercédès, one was sure of finding some devices at her entertainment worthy of describing, or even copying in case of need. Madame Danglars, in whom the events we have related had caused deep anxiety, had hesitated about going to Madame de Morcerf's, when during the morning her carriage happened to meet that of Villefort. The latter made a sign, and when the carriages had drawn close together, said,--"You are going to Madame de Morcerf's, are you not?" 
"No," replied Madame Danglars, "I am too ill." 
"You are wrong," replied Villefort, significantly; "it is important that you should be seen there." 
"Do you think so?" asked the baroness. 
"I do." 
"In that case I will go." And the two carriages passed on towards their different destinations. Madame Danglars therefore came, not only beautiful in person, but radiant with splendor; she entered by one door at the time when Mercédès appeared at the door. The countess took Albert to meet Madame Danglars. He approached, paid her some well merited compliments on her toilet, and offered his arm to conduct her to a seat. Albert looked around him. "You are looking for my daughter?" said the baroness, smiling. 
"I confess it," replied Albert. "Could you have been so cruel as not to bring her?" 
"Calm yourself. She has met Mademoiselle de Villefort, and has taken her arm; see, they are following us, both in white dresses, one with a bouquet of camellias, the other with one of myosotis. But tell me"-- 
"Well, what do you wish to know?" 
"Will not the Count of Monte Cristo be here to-night?" 
"Seventeen!" replied Albert. 
"What do you mean?" 
"I only mean that the count seems the rage," replied the viscount, smiling, "and that you are the seventeenth person that has asked me the same question. The count is in fashion; I congratulate him upon it." 
"And have you replied to every one as you have to me?" 
"Ah, to be sure, I have not answered you; be satisfied, we shall have this 'lion;' we are among the privileged ones." 
"Were you at the opera yesterday?" 
"No." 
"He was there." 
"Ah, indeed? And did the eccentric person commit any new originality?" 
"Can he be seen without doing so? Elssler was dancing in the Diable Boiteux; the Greek princess was in ecstasies. After the cachucha he placed a magnificent ring on the stem of a bouquet, and threw it to the charming danseuse, who, in the third act, to do honor to the gift, reappeared with it on her finger. And the Greek princess,--will she be here?" 
"No, you will be deprived of that pleasure; her position in the count's establishment is not sufficiently understood." 
"Wait; leave me here, and go and speak to Madame de Villefort, who is trying to attract your attention." 
Albert bowed to Madame Danglars, and advanced towards Madame de Villefort, whose lips opened as he approached. "I wager anything," said Albert, interrupting her, "that I know what you were about to say." 
"Well, what is it?" 
"If I guess rightly, will you confess it?" 
"Yes." 
"On your honor?" 
"On my honor." 
"You were going to ask me if the Count of Monte Cristo had arrived, or was expected." 
"Not at all. It is not of him that I am now thinking. I was going to ask you if you had received any news of Monsieur Franz." 
"Yes,--yesterday." 
"What did he tell you?" 
"That he was leaving at the same time as his letter." 
"Well, now then, the count?" 
"The count will come, of that you may be satisfied." 
"You know that he has another name besides Monte Cristo?" 
"No, I did not know it." 
"Monte Cristo in the name of an island, and he has a family name." 
"I never heard it." 
"Well, then, I am better informed than you; his name is Zaccone." 
"It is possible." 
"He is a Maltese." 
"That is also possible. 
"The son of a shipowner." 
"Really, you should relate all this aloud, you would have the greatest success." 
"He served in India, discovered a mine in Thessaly, and comes to Paris to establish a mineral water-cure at Auteuil." 
"Well, I'm sure," said Morcerf, "this is indeed news! Am I allowed to repeat it?" 
"Yes, but cautiously, tell one thing at a time, and do not say I told you." 
"Why so?" 
"Because it is a secret just discovered." 
"By whom?" 
"The police." 
"Then the news originated"-- 
"At the prefect's last night. Paris, you can understand, is astonished at the sight of such unusual splendor, and the police have made inquiries." 
"Well, well! Nothing more is wanting than to arrest the count as a vagabond, on the pretext of his being too rich." 
"Indeed, that doubtless would have happened if his credentials had not been so favorable." 
"Poor count! And is he aware of the danger he has been in?" 
"I think not." 
"Then it will be but charitable to inform him. When he arrives, I will not fail to do so." 
Just then, a handsome young man, with bright eyes, black hair, and glossy mustache, respectfully bowed to Madame de Villefort. Albert extended his hand. "Madame," said Albert, "allow me to present to you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, one of our best, and, above all, of our bravest officers." 
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman at Auteuil, at the house of the Count of Monte Cristo," replied Madame de Villefort, turning away with marked coldness of manner. This answer, and especially the tone in which it was uttered, chilled the heart of poor Morrel. But a recompense was in store for him; turning around, he saw near the door a beautiful fair face, whose large blue eyes were, without any marked expression, fixed upon him, while the bouquet of myosotis was gently raised to her lips. 
The salutation was so well understood that Morrel, with the same expression in his eyes, placed his handkerchief to his mouth; and these two living statues, whose hearts beat so violently under their marble aspect, separated from each other by the whole length of the room, forgot themselves for a moment, or rather forgot the world in their mutual contemplation. They might have remained much longer lost in one another, without any one noticing their abstraction. The Count of Monte Cristo had just entered. 
We have already said that there was something in the count which attracted universal attention wherever he appeared. It was not the coat, unexceptional in its cut, though simple and unornamented; it was not the plain white waistcoat; it was not the trousers, that displayed the foot so perfectly formed--it was none of these things that attracted the attention,--it was his pale complexion, his waving black hair, his calm and serene expression, his dark and melancholy eye, his mouth, chiselled with such marvellous delicacy, which so easily expressed such high disdain,--these were what fixed the attention of all upon him. Many men might have been handsomer, but certainly there could be none whose appearance was more significant, if the expression may be used. Everything about the count seemed to have its meaning, for the constant habit of thought which he had acquired had given an ease and vigor to the expression of his face, and even to the most trifling gesture, scarcely to be understood. Yet the Parisian world is so strange, that even all this might not have won attention had there not been connected with it a mysterious story gilded by an immense fortune. 
Meanwhile he advanced through the assemblage of guests under a battery of curious glances towards Madame de Morcerf, who, standing before a mantle-piece ornamented with flowers, had seen his entrance in a looking-glass placed opposite the door, and was prepared to receive him. She turned towards him with a serene smile just at the moment he was bowing to her. No doubt she fancied the count would speak to her, while on his side the count thought she was about to address him; but both remained silent, and after a mere bow, Monte Cristo directed his steps to Albert, who received him cordially. "Have you seen my mother?" asked Albert. 
"I have just had the pleasure," replied the count; "but I have not seen your father." 
"See, he is down there, talking politics with that little group of great geniuses." 
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo; "and so those gentlemen down there are men of great talent. I should not have guessed it. And for what kind of talent are they celebrated? You know there are different sorts." 
"That tall, harsh-looking man is very learned, he discovered, in the neighborhood of Rome, a kind of lizard with a vertebra more than lizards usually have, and he immediately laid his discovery before the Institute. The thing was discussed for a long time, but finally decided in his favor. I can assure you the vertebra made a great noise in the learned world, and the gentleman, who was only a knight of the Legion of Honor, was made an officer." 
"Come," said Monte Cristo, "this cross seems to me to be wisely awarded. I suppose, had he found another additional vertebra, they would have made him a commander." 
"Very likely," said Albert. 
"And who can that person be who has taken it into his head to wrap himself up in a blue coat embroidered with green?" 
"Oh, that coat is not his own idea; it is the Republic's, which deputed David* to devise a uniform for the Academicians." 
* Louis David, a famous French painter. 
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo; "so this gentleman is an Academician?" 
"Within the last week he has been made one of the learned assembly." 
"And what is his especial talent?" 
"His talent? I believe he thrusts pins through the heads of rabbits, he makes fowls eat madder, and punches the spinal marrow out of dogs with whalebone." 
"And he is made a member of the Academy of Sciences for this?" 
"No; of the French Academy." 
"But what has the French Academy to do with all this?" 
"I was going to tell you. It seems"-- 
"That his experiments have very considerably advanced the cause of science, doubtless?" 
"No; that his style of writing is very good." 
"This must be very flattering to the feelings of the rabbits into whose heads he has thrust pins, to the fowls whose bones he has dyed red, and to the dogs whose spinal marrow he has punched out?" 
Albert laughed. 
"And the other one?" demanded the count. 
"That one?" 
"Yes, the third." 
"The one in the dark blue coat?" 
"Yes." 
"He is a colleague of the count, and one of the most active opponents to the idea of providing the Chamber of Peers with a uniform. He was very successful upon that question. He stood badly with the Liberal papers, but his noble opposition to the wishes of the court is now getting him into favor with the journalists. They talk of making him an ambassador." 
"And what are his claims to the peerage?" 
"He has composed two or three comic operas, written four or five articles in the Siecle, and voted five or six years on the ministerial side." 
"Bravo, Viscount," said Monte Cristo, smiling; "you are a delightful cicerone. And now you will do me a favor, will you not?" 
"What is it?" 
"Do not introduce me to any of these gentlemen; and should they wish it, you will warn me." Just then the count felt his arm pressed. He turned round; it was Danglars. 
"Ah, is it you, baron?" said he. 
"Why do you call me baron?" said Danglars; "you know that I care nothing for my title. I am not like you, viscount; you like your title, do you not?" 
"Certainly," replied Albert, "seeing that without my title I should be nothing; while you, sacrificing the baron, would still remain the millionaire." 
"Which seems to me the finest title under the royalty of July," replied Danglars. 
"Unfortunately," said Monte Cristo, "one's title to a millionaire does not last for life, like that of baron, peer of France, or Academician; for example, the millionaires Franck & Poulmann, of Frankfort, who have just become bankrupts." 
"Indeed?" said Danglars, becoming pale. 
"Yes; I received the news this evening by a courier. I had about a million in their hands, but, warned in time, I withdrew it a month ago." 
"Ah, mon Dieu," exclaimed Danglars, "they have drawn on me for 200,000 francs!" "Well, you can throw out the draft; their signature is worth five per cent." 
"Yes, but it is too late," said Danglars, "I have honored their bills." 
"Then," said Monte Cristo, "here are 200,000 francs gone after"-- 
"Hush, do not mention these things," said Danglars; then, approaching Monte Cristo, he added, "especially before young M. Cavalcanti;" after which he smiled, and turned towards the young man in question. Albert had left the count to speak to his mother, Danglars to converse with young Cavalcanti; Monte Cristo was for an instant alone. Meanwhile the heat became excessive. The footmen were hastening through the rooms with waiters loaded with ices. Monte Cristo wiped the perspiration from his forehead, but drew back when the waiter was presented to him; he took no refreshment. Madame de Morcerf did not lose sight of Monte Cristo; she saw that he took nothing, and even noticed his gesture of refusal. 
"Albert," she asked, "did you notice that?" 
"What, mother?" 
"That the count has never been willing to partake of food under the roof of M. de Morcerf." 
"Yes; but then he breakfasted with me--indeed, he made his first appearance in the world on that occasion." 
"But your house is not M. de Morcerf's," murmured Mercédès; "and since he has been here I have watched him." 
"Well?" 
"Well, he has taken nothing yet." 
"The count is very temperate." Mercédès smiled sadly. "Approach him," said she, "and when the next waiter passes, insist upon his taking something." 
"But why, mother?" 
"Just to please me, Albert," said Mercédès. Albert kissed his mother's hand, and drew near the count. Another salver passed, loaded like the preceding ones; she saw Albert attempt to persuade the count, but he obstinately refused. Albert rejoined his mother; she was very pale. 
"Well," said she, "you see he refuses?" 
"Yes; but why need this annoy you?" 
"You know, Albert, women are singular creatures. I should like to have seen the count take something in my house, if only an ice. Perhaps he cannot reconcile himself to the French style of living, and might prefer something else." 
"Oh, no; I have seen him eat of everything in Italy; no doubt he does not feel inclined this evening." 
"And besides," said the countess, "accustomed as he is to burning climates, possibly he does not feel the heat as we do." 
"I do not think that, for he has complained of feeling almost suffocated, and asked why the Venetian blinds were not opened as well as the windows." 
"In a word," said Mercédès, "it was a way of assuring me that his abstinence was intended." And she left the room. A minute afterwards the blinds were thrown open, and through the jessamine and clematis that overhung the window one could see the garden ornamented with lanterns, and the supper laid under the tent. Dancers, players, talkers, all uttered an exclamation of joy--every one inhaled with delight the breeze that floated in. At the same time Mercédès reappeared, paler than before, but with that imperturbable expression of countenance which she sometimes wore. She went straight to the group of which her husband formed the centre. "Do not detain those gentlemen here, count," she said; "they would prefer, I should think, to breathe in the garden rather than suffocate here, since they are not playing." 
"Ah," said a gallant old general, who, in 1809, had sung Partant pour la Syrie!--"we will not go alone to the garden." 
"Then," said Mercédès, "I will lead the way." Turning towards Monte Cristo, she added, "count, will you oblige me with your arm?" The count almost staggered at these simple words; then he fixed his eyes on Mercédès. It was only a momentary glance, but it seemed to the countess to have lasted for a century, so much was expressed in that one look. He offered his arm to the countess; she took it, or rather just touched it with her little hand, and they together descended the steps, lined with rhododendrons and camellias. Behind them, by another outlet, a group of about twenty persons rushed into the garden with loud exclamations of delight.  
这几天正是七月里最炎热的日子，马尔塞夫伯爵如期在星期六举行舞会。晚上十点钟。在伯爵府的花园里，高大的树木清晰地衬托着缀满金色星星的天空。今天象要下暴雨的样子，天空上现在还浮荡着一层薄雾。楼下的大厅里传出华尔兹和极乐舞的乐曲，百叶窗的窗缝里透出灿烂的灯光。这时，花园里有十来个仆人在那儿准备晚餐，他们刚刚接到主妇的命令，因为天气好转。已决定晚餐在草坪上的天幕下举行，那缀满星星的美丽的蓝空已使草坪占了决定的优势。花园里挂满了彩色的灯笼，这是按照意大利的风俗布置的，席面上布满了蜡烛和鲜花，这种排场世界各国豪华的席面上处处都一样，不必多讲。 
马尔塞夫伯爵夫人吩咐过仆人以后，又回到屋里去，这时宾客们陆续到来，吸引他们来的多半不是由于伯爵的地位显赫，而是由于伯爵夫人优雅风度，因为由于美塞苔丝的高雅的情趣，他们一定可以在她的宴会上找到一些值得叙述，甚至值得模仿的布置方法。腾格拉尔夫人本来不想到马尔塞夫夫人那儿去，因为前面说过的那几件事使她心神不宁，但那天早晨，她的马车碰巧在路上和维尔福先生的马车相遇。两部马车很自然地并拢来，他说：“马尔塞夫夫人家的舞会您去不去？” 
“不想去，”腾格拉尔夫人回答，“我的身体太不舒服。” 
“您错了，”维尔福意味深长地回答，“您应该在那儿露面，这是很重要的。” 
“那么我就去。”说完两部马车就分道而驶了。 
所以腾格拉尔夫人这会儿也来了。她不但长得美，而且周身上下打扮得珠光宝气；她从一扇门走进客厅，美塞苔丝正好也从另一扇门出现在客厅，伯爵夫人当即派阿尔贝去迎接腾格拉尔夫人。他迎上前去，对男爵夫人的打扮讲了几句恰如其分的恭维话，然后让她挽住他的胳膊引她入座。阿尔贝向四下里望望。 
“您在找我的女儿，是不是？”男爵夫人含笑说。 
“我承认是的，”阿尔贝回答。“难道您竟忍心没有带她来吗？” 
“别着急。她遇到了维尔福小姐，她们两个就走在一起了。瞧，她们来了，两个都穿着白衣服，一个捧着一束山茶花，一个捧着一束毋忘我花。哎，怎么” 
“这回您找什么？” 
“基督山伯爵今天晚上来不来？” 
“十七个了！”阿尔贝答道。 
“您这是什么意思？” 
“我是说，伯爵似乎是一团烈火，”子爵微笑着回答，“你是第十七个问我这个问题的人了。伯爵有多走红，我可真得祝贺他” 
“您对每一个人都是象对我这样回答的吗？” 
“啊！真是的，我还没有回答您。请放心，我们可以看到这位大人物。我们的运气够好的。” 
“昨晚您去歌剧院了吗？” 
“没有。” 
“他也在那儿。” 
“啊，真的！那位怪人有没有什么惊人之举？” 
“他能没有惊人之举吗？”昨天演的是《瘸腿魔鬼》 
［法国作家勒萨日（一六八八—一七四七）的作品，这里可能指根据原作改编的舞剧。——译注］，伊丽莎跳舞的时候，那位希腊公主看得出了神。伊丽莎跳完舞以后，他把一只珍贵的戒指绑在一束花球上，抛给那个可爱的舞星，那个舞星为了表示珍视这件礼物，在第三幕的时候，就把它戴在手指上出场，向伯爵致意。那位希腊公主呢？她来不来？” 
“不来，可能使您失望了，她在伯爵家里的地位没人知道。” 
“行了，让我留在这儿吧，去陪维尔福夫人吧，她很想跟您谈话呢。” 
阿尔贝对腾格拉尔夫人鞠了一躬，向维尔福夫人走过去。 
当他走近的时候，她张开嘴巴刚要说话。“我敢跟你打赌，”阿尔贝打断她说，“我知道您要说的是什么事。” 
“什么事？” 
“如果我猜对了，您承不承认？” 
“承认。” 
“用人格担保？” 
“用人格担保。” 
“您要问我基督山伯爵到了没有，或者会不会来。” 
“一点也不对。我现在想的不是他。我要问您有没有接到弗兰兹先生的什么消息？” 
“有的，昨天收到了一封信。” 
“他信里说些什么？” 
”他发封信时正启程回来。” 
“好，现在，告诉我伯爵会不会来。” 
“伯爵会来的，不会使您失望。” 
“您知道他除了基督山以外还有一个名字吗？” 
“不，我不知道。” 
“基督山是一个岛的名字，他有一个族姓。” 
“我从来没听说过。” 
“好，那么，我比您消息灵通了，他姓柴康。” 
“有可能。” 
“他是马耳他人。” 
“也可能的。” 
“他是一个船主的儿子。” 
“真的，您应该把这些事情大声宣布出来，您就可以大出风头了。” 
“他在印度服过兵役，在塞萨利发现了一个银矿，到巴黎来是想在欧特伊村建立一所温泉疗养院。” 
“哦！马尔塞夫说，“我敢断言，这实在是新闻！允许我讲给别人听吗？” 
“可以，但不要一下子捅出去，每次只讲一件事情，别说是我告诉您的。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为这是偶然发现的秘密。” 
“谁发现的。” 
“警务部。” 
“那么这些消息的来源——” 
“是昨天晚上从总监那里听来的。您当然也明白，巴黎对于这样不寻常的豪华人物总是有戒备的，所以警务部去调查了一下。” 
“好！现在手续齐备，可以借口伯爵太有钱，把他当作流民抓起来了。” 
“可不是，如果调查到的情况不是那么对他有利的话，这种事情无疑是会发生的。” 
“可怜的伯爵！他知道自己处境这么危险吗？” 
“我想不知道吧。” 
“那么应该发发慈悲心去通知他。他来的时候，我一定这样做。” 
这时，一个眼睛明亮、头发乌黑、髭须光润的英俊年轻人过来向维尔福夫人恭恭敬敬地鞠了一躬。阿尔贝和他握握手。“夫人，”阿尔贝说，“允许我向您介绍马西米兰·莫雷尔先生，驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵上尉，是我们最出色、最勇敢的军官之一。” 
“我在欧特伊基督山伯爵的家里已经有幸见过这位先生了。”维尔福夫人回答，带着不用掩饰的冷淡态度转身离去。 
这句话语，尤其是说这句话的那种口气，使可怜的莫雷尔的心揪紧了。可是有一种补偿正在等候他。他转过身来，正巧看到一张美丽白皙的面孔，上面那一对蓝色的大眼睛正注视着他，那对眼睛里并没有什么明显的表情，但她把手里的那一束毋忘我花慢慢地举到她唇边。 
莫雷尔对这种无声的问候心领神会，他也望着她，把他手帕举到嘴唇上。他们象两尊活的雕像，已佇立大厅两端，默默地互相凝视着，一时忘掉了他们自己，甚至忘掉了世界，但在他们那种大理石似的外表底下，他们的心却在剧烈地狂跳。 
即使他们再多望很多时候，也不会有人注意到他们，可是基督山伯爵进来了。我们已经说过，伯爵不论在哪儿出现，他总能吸引大家的注意力。那并不是因为他的衣着，他的衣服简单朴素，剪裁也没有什么新奇怪诞的地方；更不是因为那件纯白的背心；也不是因为那条衬托出一双有模有样的脚的裤子——吸引旁人注意的不是这些东西，而是他那苍白的肤色和他那漆黑的卷发，他安详清纯的脸容；是那一双深邃、表情抑郁的眼睛；是那一张轮廓清楚、这样易于表达高度轻蔑表情的嘴巴。比他更漂亮的人或许还有很多，谁也不会有他这么富有表现力，如可以用这个词来形容的话。伯爵身上的一切似乎都有其含义，因为他有常作有益思索的习惯，所以无关紧要的动作，也会在他的脸上表现出无比的精明和刚强。 
可是，巴黎社会的社交界是这样的不可思议，如果除此以外他没有一笔巨大的财产染上神秘色彩，这一切或许还是不能赢得他们的注意。 
这时，他在无数好奇的眼光的注视之下，一面和熟人略作招呼，一面向马尔塞夫夫人走过去，马尔塞夫夫人正站在摆着几只花瓶的壁炉架子前面，已经从一面与门相对的镜子里看见他进来，已经准备好和他相见。伯爵向她鞠躬的时候，她带着一个开朗的微笑向他转过身来。她以为伯爵会和她讲话，而伯爵，也以为她会和自己说话，但两人都没有开口。于是，在鞠躬之后，基督山就迈步向阿尔贝迎过去，阿尔贝正张着双臂向他走来。 
“您见过我母亲了吗？”阿尔贝问。 
“见过了，”伯爵回答，“但我还没有见过令尊。” 
“瞧，他就在那面，正在和那群社会名流谈论政治呢。” 
“是吗？”基督山说，“那么，那面的那些先生都是社会名流。我倒没有想到。他们是哪一类方面的？您知道社会名流也有各种各样的。” 
“首先，是一位学者就是那位瘦高个儿，他在罗马附近发现一种蜥蜴，那种蜥蜴的脊椎骨比普通的多一节，他立刻把他的发现在科学院提出。对那件事一直有人持异议，但他取得了胜利。那节脊椎骨在学术界引起了轰动了，而那位先生，他本来只是荣誉军团的一个骑士，就此晋封为军官。” 
“哦，”基督山说，“据我看，这个十字章是该给的，我想，要是他再找到一节脊椎骨的话，他们就会封他做司令官了吧？” 
“极有可能。”阿尔贝说。 
“那个穿蓝底绣绿花礼服的人是谁？他怎么竟想出穿这样一件怪衣服？” 
“噢，那件衣服不是他自己想出来的，那是法兰西共和国的象征。共和政府委托大画家大卫［大卫（一七四八—一八二五），法国著名画家，同情法国大革命。——译注］给法兰西科学院院士设计的一种制服。” 
“真的吗！”基督山说，“那么这位先生是一位科学院院士吗？” 
“他在一星期前刚被推举为一位学者。” 
“他的特殊才能是什么？” 
“他的才能我相信他能够用小针戳兔子的头，他能让母鸡吃茜草，他能够用鲸须挑出狗的脊髓。” 
“为了这些成绩，他成为科学院的院士了吗？” 
“不，是法兰西学院的院士。” 
“但法兰四学院跟这一切有什么关系呢？” 
“我就要告诉您了。看来似乎是因为——” 
“一定因为他的实验大大地促进了科学的发展罗？” 
“不，是因为他的书法非常挺秀。” 
“这句话要是被那些让他用针戳过的兔子，那些骨头被他用茜草染成红色的鸡以及那些被他挑过脊髓的狗听到，它们一定要伤心死了。” 
阿尔贝大笑起来。 
“那一位呢？”伯爵问。 
“哪一位？” 
“是的，第三位。” 
“啊！穿暗蓝色衣服的那位？” 
“对。” 
“他是伯爵的一个同僚，前一阵子极力反对贵族院的议员穿制服，他是自由主义派报纸的死对头，但因为他在制服问题上所做的抨击朝廷的高尚行动，自由派报纸大大为他捧场，这使他们言归于好，而且据说就要派他做大使了。” 
“他是凭什么资格入贵族院的？” 
“他曾编过两三部喜剧，在《世纪》报上写过四五篇文章，为部长大人当选捧了五六次场。” 
“说得妙，子爵！”基督山微笑着说，“您是一位很有趣的导游。现在请您帮我一个忙，可不可以？” 
“什么事？” 
“别介绍我认识这几位先生，如果他们有这个意思，请您为我挡驾。” 
这时，伯爵觉得有人抓住了他的胳膊。他转过身来，原来是腾格拉尔。“啊！是您，男爵！” 
“您为什么要称呼我男爵呢？”腾格拉尔说，“您知道我对于我的头衔并不重视。我不象您，子爵，您很看重爵位是不是？” 
“当然罗，”阿尔贝回答，“我要是没有了头衔，就一无所有了，而您，既使放弃男爵的头衔，却依旧不失为百万富翁。” 
“不幸的是，”基督山说，“百万富翁这个头衔可不象男爵、法国贵族或科学院院士那样可以终身保持的，譬如说，法兰克福的百万富翁，法波银行的大股东法郎克和波尔曼，最近就宣告破产了。” 
“真的吗？”腾格拉尔说，脸色顿时变得苍白。 
“不会有错，我是今天傍晚才得到的消息，我有一百万存在他们银行，但及时得到警告，在一个月以前就提出来了。” 
“啊，我的上帝！”腾格拉尔喊道，“他们开了一张二十万法郎的汇票给我！” 
“您可得小心一点，他们的签字只剩百分之五的信用了。” 
“是的，但太迟啦，”腾格拉尔说，“我看到签字的票据就照付了。” 
“得！”基督山说，“又是二十万法郎，加上以前“嘘！别提这些事情，”腾格拉尔说，然后，他向基督山凑近一步，又说，“尤其是在小卡瓦尔康蒂先生面前。”说完以后，他微笑了一下，转身向他所指的那个年轻人走去。 
阿尔贝离开伯爵去和他的母亲说话，腾格拉尔也已去和小卡瓦尔康蒂谈天，暂时只剩下基督山独自一个。这当儿，大厅里非常热。仆人托着摆满冷饮品的茶盘在人群里穿梭往来。 
基督山不时擦着额头上的汗珠，但当仆人把盘子端到他面前来的时候，他却退后一步，不吃解热的东西。马尔塞夫夫人的眼光始终没有离开基督山，她看到他什么都没有吃过，甚至还注意到了他往后退的那个动作。 
“阿尔贝，”她问道，“你注意到没有？” 
“什么事，母亲？” 
“我们请伯爵来赴宴，他从来没有接受过。” 
“是的，但他在我那儿吃过午饭，真的，那次他还是初次在巴黎社交界露面呢。” 
“但你的家并不是马尔塞夫先生的家，”美塞苔丝喃喃说，“他来这儿以后，我一直在观察他。” 
“是吗？” 
“是的，他没有吃过任何东西。” 
“伯爵的饮食是很节制的。” 
美塞苔丝抑郁地微笑了一下。“你再过去，”她说，“等下一次托盘送来的时候，务必请他吃些东西。” 
“为什么，母亲？” 
“听我的话，阿尔贝。”美塞苔丝说。 
阿尔贝拿起他母亲的手吻了一下，踱到伯爵身边。又有一只摆满冷饮品的盘子送了来，她看到阿尔贝想劝伯爵吃些东西，但他却坚决地拒绝了。阿尔贝回到母亲那儿，她的脸色非常苍白。 
“是吧，”她说，“你看到他拒绝了吗！” 
“是的，但您何必因此难过呢？” 
“你知道，阿尔贝，女人的心是很奇怪的，我喜欢看到伯爵在我的家里吃些东西，即使一粒石榴也好。也许他不习惯法国的饮食，喜欢吃别的东西吧。” 
“哦，不会的。在意大利的时候，我看他是什么都吃的，显然他今天晚上不想吃东西。” 
“也许是”伯爵夫人说，“他是在热带过惯了的，他可能不象我们这样怕热。” 
“我想不见得，因为他刚才还向我诉苦说，他感到热得几乎要窒息了，还问我为什么不把百叶窗也象玻璃那样打开。” 
“可不是，”美塞苔丝说，“这倒是个好办法，可以试试他是否故意不肯吃东西。”于是她离开大厅。一分钟以后，百叶窗全部打开了，透过那些垂下素馨花和女萎草的窗口，可以看到点缀着各色灯笼的花园和摆列在帐幕底下的宴席。跳舞的，玩牌的，谈话的所有的客人都发出了欢快的喊声。每一个人都欢欢喜喜地享受着微风。这时，美塞苔丝重新出现，她的脸色比以前更苍白了，但神色很镇定。她一直向以她丈夫为中心的那群人走过去。“别把这几位先生拖在这儿，伯爵，” 
她说，“我想，他们大概都愿意到花园里透透气，太闷了，他们不是在玩牌。” 
“啊，”一个风流的老将军说，“我们不愿意单独到花园里去。” 
“那么，”美塞苔丝说，“我来领路。”她转向基督山，又说，“伯爵，您可以陪我去走走吗？” 
对于这样简单的一句话，伯爵几乎踉跄了一下，他看了看美塞苔丝。那一瞥的时间实际上极其短暂，但伯爵夫人却觉得似乎有一世纪那么久。他把他的胳膊递给伯爵夫人。她挽起他的胳膊，或者说得确切些，只是用她那只纤细的小手轻轻触着它，于是他们一同走下那两旁列着踯躅花和山茶花的踏级。在他们的后面，二十多个人高声谈笑着从另外一扇小门里涌进花园。 
Chapter 71 Bread and Salt
 MADAME DE MORCERF entered an archway of trees with her companion. It led through a grove of lindens to a conservatory. 
"It was too warm in the room, was it not, count?" she asked. 
"Yes, madame; and it was an excellent idea of yours to open the doors and the blinds." As he ceased speaking, the count felt the hand of Mercédès tremble. "But you," he said, "with that light dress, and without anything to cover you but that gauze scarf, perhaps you feel cold?" 
"Do you know where I am leading you?" said the countess, without replying to the question. 
"No, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "but you see I make no resistance." 
"We are going to the greenhouse that you see at the other end of the grove." 
The count looked at Mercédès as if to interrogate her, but she continued to walk on in silence, and he refrained from speaking. They reached the building, ornamented with magnificent fruits, which ripen at the beginning of July in the artificial temperature which takes the place of the sun, so frequently absent in our climate. The countess left the arm of Monte Cristo, and gathered a bunch of Muscatel grapes. "See, count," she said, with a smile so sad in its expression that one could almost detect the tears on her eyelids--"see, our French grapes are not to be compared, I know, with yours of Sicily and Cyprus, but you will make allowance for our northern sun." The count bowed, but stepped back. "Do you refuse?" said Mercédès, in a tremulous voice. "Pray excuse me, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "but I never eat Muscatel grapes." 
Mercédès let them fall, and sighed. A magnificent peach was hanging against an adjoining wall, ripened by the same artificial heat. Mercédès drew near, and plucked the fruit. "Take this peach, then," she said. The count again refused. "What, again?" she exclaimed, in so plaintive an accent that it seemed to stifle a sob; "really, you pain me." 
A long silence followed; the peach, like the grapes, fell to the ground. "Count," added Mercédès with a supplicating glance, "there is a beautiful Arabian custom, which makes eternal friends of those who have together eaten bread and salt under the same roof." 
"I know it, madame," replied the count; "but we are in France, and not in Arabia, and in France eternal friendships are as rare as the custom of dividing bread and salt with one another." 
"But," said the countess, breathlessly, with her eyes fixed on Monte Cristo, whose arm she convulsively pressed with both hands, "we are friends, are we not?" 
The count became pale as death, the blood rushed to his heart, and then again rising, dyed his cheeks with crimson; his eyes swam like those of a man suddenly dazzled. "Certainly, we are friends," he replied; "why should we not be?" The answer was so little like the one Mercédès desired, that she turned away to give vent to a sigh, which sounded more like a groan. "Thank you," she said. And they walked on again. They went the whole length of the garden without uttering a word. "Sir," suddenly exclaimed the countess, after their walk had continued ten minutes in silence, "is it true that you have seen so much, travelled so far, and suffered so deeply?" 
"I have suffered deeply, madame," answered Monte Cristo. 
"But now you are happy?" 
"Doubtless," replied the count, "since no one hears me complain." 
"And your present happiness, has it softened your heart?" 
"My present happiness equals my past misery," said the count. 
"Are you not married?" asked the countess. "I married?" exclaimed Monte Cristo, shuddering; "who could have told you so?" 
"No one told me you were, but you have frequently been seen at the opera with a young and lovely woman." 
"She is a slave whom I bought at Constantinople, madame, the daughter of a prince. I have adopted her as my daughter, having no one else to love in the world." 
"You live alone, then?" 
"I do." 
"You have no sister--no son--no father?" 
"I have no one." 
"How can you exist thus without any one to attach you to life?" 
"It is not my fault, madame. At Malta, I loved a young girl, was on the point of marrying her, when war came and carried me away. I thought she loved me well enough to wait for me, and even to remain faithful to my memory. When I returned she was married. This is the history of most men who have passed twenty years of age. Perhaps my heart was weaker than the hearts of most men, and I suffered more than they would have done in my place; that is all." The countess stopped for a moment, as if gasping for breath. "Yes," she said, "and you have still preserved this love in your heart--one can only love once--and did you ever see her again?" 
"Never." 
"Never?" 
"I never returned to the country where she lived." 
"To Malta?" 
"Yes; Malta." 
"She is, then, now at Malta?" 
"I think so." 
"And have you forgiven her for all she has made you suffer?" 
"Her,--yes." 
"But only her; do you then still hate those who separated you?" 
"I hate them? Not at all; why should I?" The countess placed herself before Monte Cristo, still holding in her hand a portion of the perfumed grapes. "Take some," she said. "Madame, I never eat Muscatel grapes," replied Monte Cristo, as if the subject had not been mentioned before. The countess dashed the grapes into the nearest thicket, with a gesture of despair. "Inflexible man!" she murmured. Monte Cristo remained as unmoved as if the reproach had not been addressed to him. Albert at this moment ran in. "Oh, mother," he exclaimed, "such a misfortune his happened!" 
"What? What has happened?" asked the countess, as though awakening from a sleep to the realities of life; "did you say a misfortune? Indeed, I should expect misfortunes." 
"M. de Villefort is here." 
"Well?" 
"He comes to fetch his wife and daughter." 
"Why so?" 
"Because Madame de Saint-Méran is just arrived in Paris, bringing the news of M. de Saint-Méran's death, which took place on the first stage after he left Marseilles. Madame de Villefort, who was in very good spirits, would neither believe nor think of the misfortune, but Mademoiselle Valentine, at the first words, guessed the whole truth, notwithstanding all the precautions of her father; the blow struck her like a thunderbolt, and she fell senseless." 
"And how was M. de Saint-Méran related to Mademoiselle de Villefort?" said the count. 
"He was her grandfather on the mother's side. He was coming here to hasten her marriage with Franz." 
"Ah, indeed?" 
"So Franz must wait. Why was not M. de Saint-Méran also grandfather to Mademoiselle Danglars?" 
"Albert, Albert," said Madame de Morcerf, in a tone of mild reproof, "what are you saying? Ah, count, he esteems you so highly, tell him that he has spoken amiss." And she took two or three steps forward. Monte Cristo watched her with an air so thoughtful, and so full of affectionate admiration, that she turned back and grasped his hand; at the same time she seized that of her son, and joined them together. 
"We are friends; are we not?" she asked. 
"Oh, madame, I do not presume to call myself your friend, but at all times I am your most respectful servant." The countess left with an indescribable pang in her heart, and before she had taken ten steps the count saw her raise her handkerchief to her eyes. "Do not my mother and you agree?" asked Albert, astonished. 
"On the contrary," replied the count, "did you not hear her declare that we were friends?" They re-entered the drawing-room, which Valentine and Madame de Villefort had just quitted. It is perhaps needless to add that Morrel departed almost at the same time.  
马尔塞夫夫人由基督山陪着，来到枝叶交错形成的拱廓。 
两旁都是菩提树，这条路是通到一间温室去的。 
“大厅里太热了，是不是，伯爵？”她问。 
“是的，夫人，您想得真周到，把门和百叶窗都打开。”当他说这几句话的时候，伯爵感到美塞苔丝的手在颤抖。“但您，”他继续说，“穿着那样单薄的衣服，只披一条纱巾，或许会有点冷吧？” 
“您知道我要带您去哪儿吗？”伯爵夫人说，并不回答基督山的问题。 
“不知道，夫人，”基督山回答，“但您知道我并没有拒绝。” 
“我们是到温室里去，您瞧，那间温室就在这条路的尽头。” 
伯爵看了看美塞苔丝，象要问她什么话，但她只是默默地向前走，于是基督山也不开口了。他们走到那间结满了美丽的果子的温室里。这时虽是七月里，但却依旧在靠工人控制温度来代替太阳热量来使果子成熟。伯爵夫人放开基督山的手臂，摘下一串紫葡萄。“瞧，伯爵，”她微笑着说，那种微笑那么凄然，让人几乎觉得她的眼眶里已盛满了泪水—— 
“瞧，我知道我们的法国葡萄没法和你们西西里或塞浦路斯的相比，但您大概可以原谅我们北方的阳光不足吧！” 
伯爵鞠了一躬，往后退了一步。 
“您拒绝吗？”美塞苔丝的声音发颤。 
“请原谅我，夫人，”基督山答道，“但我是从来不吃紫葡萄的。” 
葡萄从美塞苔丝的手里落到地上，他叹了一口气。邻近架梯上垂着一只美丽的桃子，也是用人工的热度焙熟的。”美塞苔丝走过去，摘下那只果子。“那么，吃了这只桃子吧。”她说。 
伯爵还是不接受。 
“什么，又拒绝！”她的声音凄婉，似乎在竭力抑制哭泣。 
“真的，您太让我痛苦了。” 
接着是长时间的沉默。那只桃子，象葡萄一样，也落到地上。 
“伯爵，”美塞苔丝用悲哀恳求的目光看了他一眼说，“阿拉伯有一种动人的风俗，凡是在一个屋顶底下一同吃过面包和盐的人，就成了永久的朋友。” 
“我知道的，夫人，”伯爵回答，“但我们是在法国，不是在阿拉伯。而在法国，永久的友谊就象分享面包和盐那种风俗一样的罕见。” 
“但是，”伯爵夫人的眼睛一眨不眨地盯着基督山，两手痉挛地抓住他的胳膊，紧张得好象都喘不过气来似的说，“我们是朋友，是不是？” 
伯爵的脸苍白得象死人的一样，浑身的血好象都冲进他的心，然后又向上涌，把他的两颊染得通红；他只觉得自己泪眼模糊，象要晕眩一样。“当然，我们是朋友，”他答道。 
“我们为什么不是朋友呢？” 
这个答复与美塞苔丝所希望的回答相差太远了，她转过身去，发出一声听来象呻吟似的叹息。“谢谢您，”说完，他们又开始向前走。“阁下，”在他们默默地走了大约十分钟以后，伯爵夫人突然喊道，“您真的见过很多的东西，旅行到过很远的地方，受过很深的痛苦吗？” 
“我受过很深的痛苦，夫人。”基督山回答。 
“但您现在很快乐了？” 
“当然，”伯爵答道，“因为没有人听到我叹息的声音。” 
“您目前的快乐是否已软化了您的心呢？” 
“我目前的快乐相等于我过去的痛苦。”伯爵说。 
“您没有结婚吗？”伯爵夫人问道。 
“我结婚！”基督山打了一个寒颤，喊道。“那是谁告诉您的？” 
“谁都没有告诉我，但有人在戏院里见您常和一位年轻可爱的姑娘在一起。” 
“她是我在君士坦丁堡买来的一个女奴，夫人——是王族的一位公主。我把她认作我的义女，因为她在世界上再没有亲人了。” 
“那么您是独自一人生活。” 
“我过着独身生活。” 
“您没有女儿，儿子，父亲？” 
“一个都没有。” 
“您怎么能这样生活？一个亲人都没有？ 
“那不是我的错，夫人。在马耳他的时候，我爱过一个年轻姑娘。当我快要和她结婚的时候，燃起了战火。我以为她很爱我，会等我，即使我死了，也会忠守着我的坟墓。但当我回来的时候，她已经结婚了。这种事情对二十出头的年轻人来说本是不足为奇的，也许我的心比旁人软弱，换了别人也许不会像我这样痛苦，这就是我的恋爱经历。” 
伯爵夫人停住脚步，象是只是为了喘一口气。“是的，”她说，“而您，在您的心里依旧保存这段爱情——人是一生只能恋爱一次的，您后来有没有再见到过她？” 
“从来没有！” 
“从来没有？” 
“我从来没有回到她所住的那个地方。” 
“在马耳他？” 
“是的，在马耳他。” 
“那么，她现在还在马耳他？” 
“我想是的。” 
“她使您所受的种种痛苦，您宽恕她了吗？” 
“是的，我饶恕了她。” 
“但不只是她，那么您依旧还恨使您和她分离的那些人吗？”伯爵夫人手里还有一小串葡萄，散发了香味。这时她就站在基督山的面前。“吃一点吧。”她说。 
“夫人，我是从来不吃紫葡萄的。”基督山回答，好象这个问题以前并没有提到过似的。 
伯爵夫人用一种绝望的姿势，把葡萄抛进最近的树丛里。 
“真是铁石心肠。”她轻声说。基督山毫不动情，好象这种责备并不是说他似的。 
这时，阿尔贝奔了进来。“母亲！”他喊道，发生不幸的事啦！” 
“什么？发生了什么事情？”伯爵夫人问道，象是一下子从梦中醒来似的。“你说是不幸的事？哦，当然是不幸的事了。” 
“维尔福先生来了。” 
“怎么了？” 
“他来找他的太太和女儿。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为圣·梅朗夫人刚到巴黎，带来了圣·梅朗先生去世的噩耗，他是离开马赛不久就死的。维尔福夫人正在兴头上，也许没有听清那件祸事，或也许不相信会发生那样的事情。但瓦朗蒂娜小姐一听到话头，又注意到她父亲那种小心谨慎的样子，就全部猜到了。那个打击对她象是晴天霹雳一般，她当场昏了过去。” 
“圣·梅朗先生是维尔福小姐的什么人？”伯爵问。 
“是她的外祖父。他是来催促她和弗兰兹结婚的。” 
“啊。真的吗？” 
“嗯，”阿尔贝说，“弗兰兹现在没人催他了，为什么圣·梅朗先生不也是腾格拉尔小姐的外祖父呢？” 
“阿尔贝！阿尔贝！”马尔塞夫夫人用一种温和的责备口气说，“你在说什么呀？啊，伯爵，他非常敬重您，请告诉他，他不该这么说话。”于是她向前走了两三步。 
基督山用非常奇怪的眼光望着她，他的脸上有一种恍恍惚惚但又充满爱慕的表情。她不由停住了脚步。然后她又上来搀住他的手，同时抓起她儿子的手，把那两只手合在一起。 
“我们是朋友，是不是？”她问。 
“噢，夫人，我不敢自称为您的朋友，但我始终是您最恭敬的仆人。” 
伯爵夫人心里带着一种无法形容的痛楚走了。她还没有走上十步，伯爵就看见她用手帕擦眼泪。 
“家母跟您谈得有点不愉快吗？”阿尔贝惊讶地问。 
“正巧相反，”伯爵答道，“您没听到她说我们是朋友吗？” 
他们回到大厅里，瓦朗蒂娜和维尔福先生夫妇刚离开，不用说，莫雷尔也跟在他们后面走了。 
Chapter 72 Madame de Saint-Méran
 A GLOOMY SCENE had indeed just passed at the house of M. de Villefort. After the ladies had departed for the ball, whither all the entreaties of Madame de Villefort had failed in persuading him to accompany them, the procureur had shut himself up in his study, according to his custom. with a heap of papers calculated to alarm any one else, but which generally scarcely satisfied his inordinate desires. But this time the papers were a mere matter of form. Villefort had secluded himself, not to study, but to reflect; and with the door locked and orders given that he should not be disturbed excepting for important business, he sat down in his arm-chair and began to ponder over the events, the remembrance of which had during the last eight days filled his mind with so many gloomy thoughts and bitter recollections. Then, instead of plunging into the mass of documents piled before him, he opened the drawer of his desk. touched a spring, and drew out a parcel of cherished memoranda, amongst which he had carefully arranged, in characters only known to himself, the names of all those who, either in his political career, in money matters, at the bar, or in his mysterious love affairs, had become his enemies. 
Their number was formidable, now that he had begun to fear, and yet these names, powerful though they were, had often caused him to smile with the same kind of satisfaction experienced by a traveller who from the summit of a mountain beholds at his feet the craggy eminences, the almost impassable paths, and the fearful chasms, through which he has so perilously climbed. When he had run over all these names in his memory, again read and studied them, commenting meanwhile upon his lists, he shook his head. 
"No," he murmured, "none of my enemies would have waited so patiently and laboriously for so long a space of time, that they might now come and crush me with this secret. Sometimes, as Hamlet says-- 
'Foul deeds will rise, Tho, all the earth o'erwhelm them to men's eyes;' 
but, like a phosphoric light, they rise but to mislead. The story has been told by the Corsican to some priest, who in his turn has repeated it. M. de Monte Cristo may have heard it, and to enlighten himself--but why should he wish to enlighten himself upon the subject?" asked Villefort, after a moment's reflection, "what interest can this M. de Monte Cristo or M. Zaccone,--son of a shipowner of Malta, discoverer of a mine in Thessaly, now visiting Paris for the first time,--what interest, I say, can he take in discovering a gloomy, mysterious, and useless fact like this? However, among all the incoherent details given to me by the Abbé Busoni and by Lord Wilmore, by that friend and that enemy, one thing appears certain and clear in my opinion--that in no period, in no case, in no circumstance, could there have been any contact between him and me." 
But Villefort uttered words which even he himself did not believe. He dreaded not so much the revelation, for he could reply to or deny its truth;--he cared little for that mene, tekel, upharsin, which appeared suddenly in letters of blood upon the wall;--but what he was really anxious for was to discover whose hand had traced them. While he was endeavoring to calm his fears,--and instead of dwelling upon the political future that had so often been the subject of his ambitious dreams, was imagining a future limited to the enjoyments of home, in fear of awakening the enemy that had so long slept,--the noise of a carriage sounded in the yard, then he heard the steps of an aged person ascending the stairs, followed by tears and lamentations, such as servants always give vent to when they wish to appear interested in their master's grief. He drew back the bolt of his door, and almost directly an old lady entered, unannounced, carrying her shawl on her arm, and her bonnet in her hand. The white hair was thrown back from her yellow forehead, and her eyes, already sunken by the furrows of age, now almost disappeared beneath the eyelids swollen with grief. "Oh, sir," she said; "oh, sir, what a misfortune! I shall die of it; oh, yes, I shall certainly die of it!" 
And then, falling upon the chair nearest the door, she burst into a paroxysm of sobs. The servants, standing in the doorway, not daring to approach nearer, were looking at Noirtier's old servant, who had heard the noise from his master's room, and run there also, remaining behind the others. Villefort rose, and ran towards his mother-in-law, for it was she. 
"Why, what can have happened?" he exclaimed, "what has thus disturbed you? Is M. de Saint-Méran with you?" 
"M. de Saint-Méran is dead," answered the old marchioness, without preface and without expression; she appeared to be stupefied. Villefort drew back, and clasping his hands together, exclaimed--"Dead!--so suddenly?" 
"A week ago," continued Madame de Saint-Méran, "we went out together in the carriage after dinner. M. de Saint-Méran had been unwell for some days; still, the idea of seeing our dear Valentine again inspired him with courage, and notwithstanding his illness he would leave. At six leagues from Marseilles, after having eaten some of the lozenges he is accustomed to take, he fell into such a deep sleep, that it appeared to me unnatural; still I hesitated to wake him, although I fancied that his face was flushed, and that the veins of his temples throbbed more violently than usual. However, as it became dark, and I could no longer see, I fell asleep; I was soon aroused by a piercing shriek, as from a person suffering in his dreams, and he suddenly threw his head back violently. I called the valet, I stopped the postilion, I spoke to M. de Saint-Méran, I applied my smelling-salts; but all was over, and I arrived at Aix by the side of a corpse." Villefort stood with his mouth half open, quite stupefied. 
"Of course you sent for a doctor?" 
"Immediately; but, as I have told you, it was too late." 
"Yes; but then he could tell of what complaint the poor marquis had died." 
"Oh, yes, sir, he told me; it appears to have been an apoplectic stroke." 
"And what did you do then?" 
"M. de Saint-Méran had always expressed a desire, in case his death happened during his absence from Paris, that his body might be brought to the family vault. I had him put into a leaden coffin, and I am preceding him by a few days." 
"Oh, my poor mother," said Villefort, "to have such duties to perform at your age after such a blow!" 
"God has supported me through all; and then, my dear marquis, he would certainly have done everything for me that I performed for him. It is true that since I left him, I seem to have lost my senses. I cannot cry; at my age they say that we have no more tears,--still I think that when one is in trouble one should have the power of weeping. Where is Valentine. sir? It is on her account I am here; I wish to see Valentine." Villefort thought it would be terrible to reply that Valentine was at a ball; so he only said that she had gone out with her step-mother, and that she should be fetched. "This instant, sir--this instant, I beseech you!" said the old lady. Villefort placed the arm of Madame de Saint-Méran within his own, and conducted her to his apartment. "Rest yourself, mother," he said. 
The marchioness raised her head at this word, and beholding the man who so forcibly reminded her of her deeply-regretted child, who still lived for her in Valentine, she felt touched at the name of mother, and bursting into tears, she fell on her knees before an arm-chair, where she buried her venerable head. Villefort left her to the care of the women, while old Barrois ran, half-scared, to his master; for nothing frightens old people so much as when death relaxes its vigilance over them for a moment in order to strike some other old person. Then, while Madame de Saint-Méran remained on her knees, praying fervently, Villefort sent for a cab, and went himself to fetch his wife and daughter from Madame de Morcerf's. He was so pale when he appeared at the door of the ball-room, that Valentine ran to him, saying-- 
"Oh, father, some misfortune has happened!" 
"Your grandmamma has just arrived, Valentine," said M. de Villefort. 
"And grandpapa?" inquired the young girl, trembling with apprehension. M. de Villefort only replied by offering his arm to his daughter. It was just in time, for Valentine's head swam, and she staggered; Madame de Villefort instantly hastened to her assistance, and aided her husband in dragging her to the carriage, saying--"What a singular event! Who could have thought it? Ah, yes, it is indeed strange!" And the wretched family departed, leaving a cloud of sadness hanging over the rest of the evening. At the foot of the stairs, Valentine found Barrois awaiting her. 
"M. Noirtier wishes to see you to-night, he said, in an undertone. 
"Tell him I will come when I leave my dear grandmamma," she replied, feeling, with true delicacy, that the person to whom she could be of the most service just then was Madame de Saint-Méran. Valentine found her grandmother in bed; silent caresses, heartwrung sobs, broken sighs, burning tears, were all that passed in this sad interview, while Madame de Villefort, leaning on her husband's arm, maintained all outward forms of respect, at least towards the poor widow. She soon whispered to her husband, "I think it would be better for me to retire, with your permission, for the sight of me appears still to afflict your mother-in-law." Madame de Saint-Méran heard her. "Yes, yes," she said softly to Valentine, "let her leave; but do you stay." Madame de Villefort left, and Valentine remained alone beside the bed, for the procureur, overcome with astonishment at the unexpected death, had followed his wife. Meanwhile, Barrois had returned for the first time to old Noirtier, who having heard the noise in the house, had, as we have said, sent his old servant to inquire the cause; on his return, his quick intelligent eye interrogated the messenger. "Alas, sir," exclaimed Barrois, "a great misfortune has happened. Madame de Saint-Méran has arrived, and her husband is dead!" 
M. de Saint-Méran and Noirtier had never been on strict terms of friendship; still, the death of one old man always considerably affects another. Noirtier let his head fall upon his chest, apparently overwhelmed and thoughtful; then he closed one eye, in token of inquiry. "Mademoiselle Valentine?" Noirtier nodded his head. "She is at the ball, as you know, since she came to say good-by to you in full dress." Noirtier again closed his left eye. "Do you wish to see her?" Noirtier again made an affirmative sign. "Well, they have gone to fetch her, no doubt, from Madame de Morcerf's; I will await her return, and beg her to come up here. Is that what you wish for?" 
"Yes," replied the invalid. 
Barrois, therefore, as we have seen, watched for Valentine, and informed her of her grandfather's wish. Consequently, Valentine came up to Noirtier, on leaving Madame de Saint-Méran, who in the midst of her grief had at last yielded to fatigue and fallen into a feverish sleep. Within reach of her hand they placed a small table upon which stood a bottle of orangeade, her usual beverage, and a glass. Then, as we have said, the young girl left the bedside to see M. Noirtier. Valentine kissed the old man, who looked at her with such tenderness that her eyes again filled with tears, whose sources he thought must be exhausted. The old gentleman continued to dwell upon her with the same expression. "Yes, yes," said Valentine, "you mean that I have yet a kind grandfather left, do you not." The old man intimated that such was his meaning. "Ah, yes, happily I have," replied Valentine. "Without that, what would become of me?" 
It was one o'clock in the morning. Barrois, who wished to go to bed himself, observed that after such sad events every one stood in need of rest. Noirtier would not say that the only rest he needed was to see his child, but wished her good-night, for grief and fatigue had made her appear quite ill. The next morning she found her grandmother in bed; the fever had not abated, on the contrary her eyes glistened and she appeared to be suffering from violent nervous irritability. "Oh, dear grandmamma, are you worse?" exclaimed Valentine, perceiving all these signs of agitation. 
"No, my child, no," said Madame de Saint-Méran; "but I was impatiently waiting for your arrival, that I might send for your father." 
"My father?" inquired Valentine, uneasily. 
"Yes, I wish to speak to him." Valentine durst not oppose her grandmother's wish, the cause of which she did not know, and an instant afterwards Villefort entered. "Sir," said Madame de Saint-Méran, without using any circumlocution, and as if fearing she had no time to lose, "you wrote to me concerning the marriage of this child?" 
"Yes, madame," replied Villefort, "it is not only projected but arranged." 
"Your intended son-in-law is named M. Franz d'Epinay?" 
"Yes, madame." 
"Is he not the son of General d'Epinay who was on our side, and who was assassinated some days before the usurper returned from the Island of Elba?" 
"The same." 
"Does he not dislike the idea of marrying the granddaughter of a Jacobin?" 
"Our civil dissensions are now happily extinguished, mother," said Villefort; "M. d'Epinay was quite a child when his father died, he knows very little of M. Noirtier, and will meet him, if not with pleasure, at least with indifference." 
"Is it a suitable match?" 
"In every respect." 
"And the young man?" 
"Is regarded with universal esteem." 
"You approve of him?" 
"He is one of the most well-bred young men I know." During the whole of this conversation Valentine had remained silent. "Well, sir," said Madame de Saint-Méran, after a few minutes' reflection, "I must hasten the marriage, for I have but a short time to live." 
"You, madame?" "You, dear mamma?" exclaimed M. de Villefort and Valentine at the same time. 
"I know what I am saying," continued the marchioness; "I must hurry you, so that, as she has no mother, she may at least have a grandmother to bless her marriage. I am all that is left to her belonging to my poor Renée, whom you have so soon forgotten, sir." 
"Ah, madame," said Villefort, "you forget that I was obliged to give a mother to my child." 
"A stepmother is never a mother, sir. But this is not to the purpose,--our business concerns Valentine, let us leave the dead in peace." 
All this was said with such exceeding rapidity, that there was something in the conversation that seemed like the beginning of delirium. 
"It shall be as you wish, madame," said Villefort; "more especially since your wishes coincide with mine, and as soon as M. d'Epinay arrives in Paris"-- 
"My dear grandmother," interrupted Valentine, "consider decorum--the recent death. You would not have me marry under such sad auspices?" 
"My child," exclaimed the old lady sharply, "let us hear none of the conventional objections that deter weak minds from preparing for the future. I also was married at the death-bed of my mother, and certainly I have not been less happy on that account." 
"Still that idea of death, madame," said Villefort. 
"Still?--Always! I tell you I am going to die--do you understand? Well, before dying, I wish to see my son-in-law. I wish to tell him to make my child happy; I wish to read in his eyes whether he intends to obey me;--in fact, I will know him--I will!" continued the old lady, with a fearful expression, "that I may rise from the depths of my grave to find him, if he should not fulfil his duty!" 
"Madame," said Villefort, "you must lay aside these exalted ideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. The dead, once buried in their graves, rise no more." 
"And I tell you, sir, that you are mistaken. This night I have had a fearful sleep. It seemed as though my soul were already hovering over my body, my eyes, which I tried to open, closed against my will, and what will appear impossible above all to you, sir, I saw, with my eyes shut, in the spot where you are now standing, issuing from that corner where there is a door leading into Madame Villefort's dressing-room--I saw, I tell you, silently enter, a white figure." Valentine screamed. "It was the fever that disturbed you, madame," said Villefort. 
"Doubt, if you please, but I am sure of what I say. I saw a white figure, and as if to prevent my discrediting the testimony of only one of my senses, I heard my glass removed--the same which is there now on the table." 
"Oh, dear mother, it was a dream." 
"So little was it a dream, that I stretched my hand towards the bell; but when I did so, the shade disappeared; my maid then entered with a light." 
"But she saw no one?" 
"Phantoms are visible to those only who ought to see them. It was the soul of my husband!--Well, if my husband's soul can come to me, why should not my soul reappear to guard my granddaughter? the tie is even more direct, it seems to me." 
"Oh, madame," said Villefort, deeply affected, in spite of himself, "do not yield to those gloomy thoughts; you will long live with us, happy, loved, and honored, and we will make you forget"-- 
"Never, never, never," said the marchioness. "when does M. d'Epinay return?" 
"We expect him every moment." 
"It is well. As soon as he arrives inform me. We must be expeditious. And then I also wish to see a notary, that I may be assured that all our property returns to Valentine." 
"Ah, grandmamma," murmured Valentine, pressing her lips on the burning brow, "do you wish to kill me? Oh, how feverish you are; we must not send for a notary, but for a doctor." 
"A doctor?" said she, shrugging her shoulders, "I am not ill; I am thirsty--that is all." 
"What are you drinking, dear grandmamma?" 
"The same as usual, my dear, my glass is there on the table--give it to me, Valentine." Valentine poured the orangeade into a glass and gave it to her grandmother with a certain degree of dread, for it was the same glass she fancied that had been touched by the spectre. The marchioness drained the glass at a single draught, and then turned on her pillow, repeating,--"The notary, the notary!" 
M. de Villefort left the room, and Valentine seated herself at the bedside of her grandmother. The poor child appeared herself to require the doctor she had recommended to her aged relative. A bright spot burned in either cheek, her respiration was short and difficult, and her pulse beat with feverish excitement. She was thinking of the despair of Maximilian, when he should be informed that Madame de Saint-Méran, instead of being an ally, was unconsciously acting as his enemy. More than once she thought of revealing all to her grandmother, and she would not have hesitated a moment, if Maximilian Morrel had been named Albert de Morcerf or Raoul de Chateau-Renaud; but Morrel was of plebeian extraction, and Valentine knew how the haughty Marquise de Saint-Méran despised all who were not noble. Her secret had each time been repressed when she was about to reveal it, by the sad conviction that it would be useless to do so; for, were it once discovered by her father and mother, all would be lost. Two hours passed thus; Madame de Saint-Méran was in a feverish sleep, and the notary had arrived. Though his coming was announced in a very low tone, Madame de Saint-Méran arose from her pillow. "The notary!" she exclaimed, "let him come in." 
The notary, who was at the door, immediately entered. "Go, Valentine," said Madame de Saint-Méran, "and leave me with this gentleman." "But, grandmamma"-- 
"Leave me--go!" The young girl kissed her grandmother, and left with her handkerchief to her eyes; at the door she found the valet de chambre, who told her that the doctor was waiting in the dining-room. Valentine instantly ran down. The doctor was a friend of the family, and at the same time one of the cleverest men of the day, and very fond of Valentine, whose birth he had witnessed. He had himself a daughter about her age, but whose life was one continued source of anxiety and fear to him from her mother having been consumptive. 
"Oh," said Valentine, "we have been waiting for you with such impatience, dear M. d'Avrigny. But, first of all, how are Madeleine and Antoinette?" Madeleine was the daughter of M. d'Avrigny, and Antoinette his niece. M. d'Avrigny smiled sadly. "Antoinette is very well," he said, "and Madeleine tolerably so. But you sent for me, my dear child. It is not your father or Madame de Villefort who is ill. As for you, although we doctors cannot divest our patients of nerves, I fancy you have no further need of me than to recommend you not to allow your imagination to take too wide a field." Valentine colored. M. d'Avrigny carried the science of divination almost to a miraculous extent, for he was one of the physicians who always work upon the body through the mind. "No," she replied, "it is for my poor grandmother. You know the calamity that has happened to us, do you not?" 
"I know nothing." said M. d'Avrigny. 
"Alas," said Valentine, restraining her tears, "my grandfather is dead." 
"M. de Saint-Méran?" 
"Yes." 
"Suddenly?" 
"From an apoplectic stroke." 
"An apoplectic stroke?" repeated the doctor. 
"Yes, and my poor grandmother fancies that her husband, whom she never left, has called her, and that she must go and join him. Oh, M. d'Avrigny, I beseech you, do something for her!" 
"Where is she?" 
"In her room with the notary." 
"And M. Noirtier?" 
"Just as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the same incapability of moving or speaking." 
"And the same love for you--eh, my dear child?" 
"Yes," said Valentine, "he was very fond of me." 
"Who does not love you?" Valentine smiled sadly. "What are your grandmother's symptoms?" 
"An extreme nervous excitement and a strangely agitated sleep; she fancied this morning in her sleep that her soul was hovering above her body, which she at the same time watched. It must have been delirium; she fancies, too, that she saw a phantom enter her chamber and even heard the noise it made on touching her glass." 
"It is singular," said the doctor; "I was not aware that Madame de Saint-Méran was subject to such hallucinations." 
"It is the first time I ever saw her in this condition," said Valentine; "and this morning she frightened me so that I thought her mad; and my father, who you know is a strong-minded man, himself appeared deeply impressed." 
"We will go and see," said the doctor; "what you tell me seems very strange." The notary here descended, and Valentine was informed that her grandmother was alone. "Go upstairs," she said to the doctor. 
"And you?" 
"Oh, I dare not--she forbade my sending for you; and, as you say, I am myself agitated, feverish and out of sorts. I will go and take a turn in the garden to recover myself." The doctor pressed Valentine's hand, and while he visited her grandmother, she descended the steps. We need not say which portion of the garden was her favorite walk. After remaining for a short time in the parterre surrounding the house, and gathering a rose to place in her waist or hair, she turned into the dark avenue which led to the bench; then from the bench she went to the gate. As usual, Valentine strolled for a short time among her flowers, but without gathering them. The mourning in her heart forbade her assuming this simple ornament, though she had not yet had time to put on the outward semblance of woe. She then turned towards the avenue. As she advanced she fancied she heard a voice speaking her name. She stopped astonished, then the voice reached her ear more distinctly, and she recognized it to be that of Maximilian.  
维尔福先生的家里的确刚刚发生了一幕悲惨的场景。太太和小姐已经去参加跳舞会去了，维尔福夫人虽曾竭力劝她的丈夫和她们同去，但她的请求没有成功，检察官还是照常把他自己关在书房里，面前堆着一大叠文件，这一堆文件谁看了都会发怵，但通常还是难于满足他那强烈的工作欲。可是这一次，这些文件只是形式而已。维尔福静处的目的不是为了工作而是在反省。门已经关上，他已吩咐仆人，除非有特别重要的事情。不许来打扰他。门关上以后他在圈椅里坐下来，开始细细地思索这一星期来的事情，累得他神魂不安，始终痛苦地在他的头脑里萦回不息的这些事情。他并不去碰他面前的那个文件堆，却打开写字台的抽屉，按下暗钮，拿出一包宝贵的文件，这包文件整理得很仔细，编着只有他自己知道的号码，里面所载的是人名和私人笔记，都是关于他在政治、金钱事务上、法庭上以及他那些神秘的恋爱事件上的仇人的记录。他们的数目现在已达到惊人的地步，他开始有点害怕起来，但这些名字虽然曾经显赫一时，却也常常使他满意地微笑，象是一个旅客在到达顶峰以后，回头俯视脚下那些曾让他惊恐万状的嵯峨的峰峦、可怕的岩崖以及几乎无法通过的狭径。他记忆里把所有这些名字默诵了一遍，又参照名单上的记载重读一遍，研究了一番，他摇摇头。“不！” 
他喃喃地说，“我的敌人没有哪一个会辛辛苦苦地耐着性子等这么久的时间，等到现在才用这个秘密来压垮我。有时候，正如哈姆雷特所说的：事实总会升起到人们的眼前，即使用全世界的泥土压住它也是枉然。 
但是，象一团磷火一样，它虽然升起来，但却会引人走入迷途。那个科西嘉人大概曾把这个故事告诉某个教士，那个教士又对别人讲了。基督山也许从旁人口里听到过，而为了探明真相，但他为什么要探明这件事情的真相呢？”维尔福先生在思索了一会儿以后，这样自问。“这和这位基督山先生或柴康先生有什么关系呢？他是一个马耳他船商的儿子，曾在塞萨利发现一个银矿，是第一次来巴黎访问。他为什么要查究这样一件悲惨、神秘和无用的事实呢？布沙尼长老和威玛勋爵——他的朋友和他的仇人——所给我的各种消息虽不完全相同，但据我看来，有一点是可以明确地断定的，就是不论在哪一个时期，不论在哪一件事情上，不论在哪一种环境里，他和我之间都没丝毫瓜葛。” 
但维尔福说的这几句话甚至连他自己都不相信。他怕的倒不是事情被揭发出来，因为即使揭发出来他可以辩护可以否认；他并不十分顾忌那突然出现在墙上的血字；他真正急于想发现的是，究竟是谁写这些血字。为了使自己的神经放松一下，他开始幻想起来。他以前常常幻想他的政治前途，这是他野心的梦想的主题，但今天他没法去想那方面的事情，他深怕惊醒了那沉睡了这么久的仇人，现在他只为自己想象一幅享受家庭之乐的远景。正在这时，庭院里传来一辆马车滚动的声音，接着他听到一个老年人的脚步踏上楼梯，后面跟随着一片哭泣和悲叹声，这是仆人们的常态，表示他们也很关心主人的伤心事。他打开门，进来了一位老太太，臂上挽着披肩，手里拿着帽子，不等通报就进来了白发压着她黄色的前额，她的眼睛周围刻满岁月留下的皱纹，眼睛几乎消失在那因悲哀过度而发肿的眼皮底下了。“噢，阁下，”她说—— 
“噢，阁下，多大的不幸呀！我要死了，噢，是的，我一定要死了！” 
她就倒在那张离门最近的椅子上，突然啜泣起来。仆人们站在门口，不敢进去，诺瓦蒂埃的老仆人在他主人的房间里听到那一片喧闹声，也赶来站在后面，大家都望着她。维尔福站起来，向这位老太太他的岳母奔过去。“发生了什么事啦！”他喊道，“您为什么这样难过！圣·梅朗先生没有和您一起来吗？” 
“圣·梅朗先生死啦！”老侯爵夫人直截了当地回答，脸上也没有什么特殊的表情，看来她似乎已经麻木了。 
维尔福后退几步，两手紧紧地握在一起，喊道：“死了，这样突然？” 
“一星期前，”圣·梅朗夫人又说，“我们吃过午餐就一同乘着马车出发。圣·梅朗先生感到不舒服已经有几天了。但是，想到可以看到我们亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，他顾不上自己正在生病，坚持起程。我们离开马赛十八哩路时，他吃了他常服的金锭丹以后，就沉沉睡去。我觉得他睡的有点不自然，可是我又不敢喊醒他，我觉得他的脸色好像变红了，他的太阳穴上的血管跳得比平常厉害。那时天色渐渐黑了，我也看不清了，我就让他去睡。突然间，他发出一声含糊不清的痛苦的叫声，象是一个人在梦中受到了伤害似的，接着他的头猛然往后一倒。我叫车夫停车，我叫圣·梅朗先生，我给他闻我的嗅盐，但一切都晚了，我是坐在一个尸体旁边到达埃克斯的。” 
维尔福半张着嘴站着，吓呆了。“您想必请医生了？” 
“当时就请了，但是，我刚才说过，已经太晚啦。” 
“是的，但他至少可以确诊可怜的侯爵死于什么病吧。” 
“哦，是的，阁下，他告诉我说象是一种暴发性中风。” 
“当时您怎么办的呢？” 
“圣·梅朗先生常说，如果他不是死在巴黎，希望能将他的遗体运回家族的墓室。我看着遗体装在一具铅棺里，自己先回巴黎，棺材过几天才来。 
“哦，可怜的母亲！”维乐福先生说，“您这么大年纪，受到这样的一个打击以后，还得这么操心。” 
“上帝支持我，让我坚持了下来，而且，我为可怜的侯爵所办的那一切，换了他当然也会替我办的。自从他离开我以后，我似乎已经麻木了。我不能哭，他们说，到我这样的年龄，就没有眼泪的了。可是，我以为当一个人心里难受的时候，就应该哭出来。瓦朗蒂娜在哪儿，阁下？我是为她而来的，我希望见见瓦朗蒂娜。” 
维尔福觉得如要说瓦朗蒂娜去参加舞会了未免太残酷，所以他只说她和她的继母一同出去了，他这就去接她们回来。 
“马上去，阁下！马上去，我求求你！”夫人说。 
维尔福扶起圣·梅朗夫人，领她到内室。“您休息一下吧，母亲。”她说。 
听到这句话，侯爵夫人，抬起头来。眼前的这个人使她强烈地想起她无限哀悼的那个女儿来，她觉得她的女儿还活在瓦朗蒂娜的身上，这声“母亲”使她大为感动，顿时老泪纵横，跪倒在一张圈椅前面，把她那白发苍苍的头埋在椅子里。维尔福吩咐女佣人照顾好老夫人，而老巴罗斯则惊惶地跑去报告他的主人去了。因为最使老年人恐惧的事情，没有比听到死神暂时放松对他们的警戒，而去打击另外一个老年人更可怕了。当圣·梅朗夫人还跪在地上，在那儿虔诚祈祷的时候，维尔福叫人备好马车，亲自到马尔塞夫夫人那里去接他的妻子和女儿。当他出现在舞厅门口的时候，他的脸色苍白的瓦朗蒂娜急忙向他跑过来，说：“哦，爸爸，发生了什么不幸的事吧！” 
“你的外婆刚才到了，瓦朗蒂娜。”维尔福先生说。 
“外公呢？”那年轻姑娘浑身颤抖。 
维尔福先生的回答只是伸手去扶住他的女儿。他做得正及时，因为瓦朗蒂娜的头一阵晕眩。脚下打了一个踉跄；维尔福夫人立刻赶过来扶住她，一面帮助她的丈夫把她搀到马车里，一面说：“真是怪事！谁想得到会发生这种事，真是怪事！”这不幸的一家人就这么走了，留下一片愁云，笼罩着整个大厅。 
瓦朗蒂娜发现巴罗斯在扶梯脚下等她。“诺瓦蒂埃先生希望今天晚上见您一次。”他低声说。 
“告诉他，我见过我亲爱的外婆后就来。”她回答，她感到目前最需要她帮的是圣·梅朗夫人。 
瓦朗蒂娜发现她的外祖母躺在床上。这一场伤心的会见里，默默的爱抚、心痛如绞的啜泣、断断续续的叹息、止不住的热泪，说不尽道不完的。维尔福夫人靠在丈夫的肩膀上，对可怜的遗孀保持着外表上的一切敬意。她不久就对她的丈夫耳语说：“我想，如果你允许的话，我还是走开的好，因为我在这儿似乎会使你的岳母难过。” 
圣·梅朗夫人听到了她的话。“是的，是的，”她温和地对瓦朗蒂娜耳语说，“让她离开吧，但你要留在这儿。” 
维尔福夫人走了，瓦朗蒂娜独自留在床边，因为那位检察官被这个意外的死讯惊得不知所措，也跟着妻子出去了。 
现在且回头来讲老诺瓦蒂埃，我们前面说过，诺瓦蒂埃听到家里的闹声，就派他的老仆人去查问原因；巴罗斯一回来，他就用机敏的眼光向他的使者询问。 
“唉，老爷！”巴罗斯惊叹道，“发生了不幸的事情啦。圣·梅朗夫人到了，她的丈夫死啦！” 
严格地说来，圣·梅朗先生和诺瓦蒂埃之间没有友谊可言。可是，一个老年人的死总会影响到另一个老年人。诺瓦蒂埃的头无力地垂到胸前，显然心里很难过，在想什么心思，然后他闭上一只眼睛。 
“瓦朗蒂娜小姐吗？”巴罗斯问。 
诺瓦蒂埃作了个肯定的表示。 
“她参加舞会去了，这是您知道的，因为她打扮得整整齐齐地来向您告辞过的。” 
诺瓦蒂埃又闭一闭他的左眼。 
“您想见她吗？” 
诺瓦蒂埃又作了肯定的表示。 
“嗯，他们一定已经到马尔塞夫夫人那儿接她去了。我去等着，她一回来就请她到这儿来。您是不是这样想？” 
“是的。”老人又作了一个肯定的回答。 
所以，正如我们已说过的，巴罗斯就去守在门口，把老人的希望通知瓦朗蒂娜。因此，瓦朗蒂娜在离开圣·梅朗夫人以后，就来看诺瓦蒂埃了。圣·梅朗夫人终因疲乏过度而昏昏沉沉地睡着了。在她伸手所及的地方，他们放了一张小桌，桌子上放着一只玻璃杯和一瓶橙汁，这是她最喜欢的饮料。于是，那年轻姑娘离开床边去看诺瓦蒂埃先生。瓦朗蒂娜吻了老人一下，老人则带着无限怜惜的眼神望着她，以致她的眼泪又充满了眼眶。那位老先生依旧带着同样的表情凝视着她。 
“是的，是的，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“您的意思是：我还有一位慈爱的祖父，是不是？” 
老人表示他想说的正是这句话。 
“上帝啊，幸而我还有你，”瓦朗蒂娜答道。“要是没有你的话，我可怎么受得了呢？” 
这已经是凌晨一点钟了。巴罗斯觉得经过了这种伤心的事件以后，每一个人都需要休息，他自己也倦了。诺瓦蒂埃所需要的休息也不只是看他的孙女儿。所以瓦朗蒂娜也离开了，忧愁和疲乏使她看来象是病了。 
第二天早晨，瓦朗蒂娜发现她的外祖母还是躺在床上。她并没有退烧；相反的，她的眼睛里闪着忧郁的火花，象是精神上正受着痛苦的折磨，“哦，亲爱的外婆！您更不舒服了吗？” 
瓦朗蒂娜看到这种种焦躁不安的症状，不由得失声惊叫。 
“没有，我的孩子，不是的！”圣·梅朗夫人说，“但我等你等得不耐烦了，我等你差人去找你的父亲来。” 
“我的父亲？”瓦朗蒂娜不安地问。 
“是的，我想跟他谈一谈。” 
瓦朗蒂娜不敢违背外祖母的意思，而且她也不知道她要谈的是什么事。过了一会儿，维尔福进来了。 
“阁下，”圣·梅朗夫人开门见山地说，象是怕她的时间不够用似的，“写信告诉我说，已经在为这个孩子准备婚事了？” 
“是的，夫人，”维尔福回答，“不仅是准备，而是已经按排妥当了。” 
“你的意中女婿是弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生？” 
“是的，夫人。” 
“他的父亲是我们的人就是在逆贼从厄尔巴岛逃回来的前几天被人暗杀的伊皮奈将军吗？” 
“正是。” 
“跟一个雅各宾党徒的孙女儿联姻，他不反感吗？” 
“幸而我们的内战现在已经结束了，母亲，”维尔福说。 
“他父亲去世的时候，伊皮奈先生还只是一个小孩子，他对诺瓦蒂埃先生知之甚少，瓦朗蒂娜将来和他相处，即使不愉快，也可以无所谓。” 
“这门亲事配不配？” 
“各方面都配。” 
“那个年轻人怎么样？” 
“很得大家的赞许。” 
“他为人和不和气？” 
“他是我所认识的最优秀的年轻人之一。” 
在他们谈话期间，瓦朗蒂娜始终保持着沉默。 
“嗯，阁下，”圣·梅朗夫人想了几分钟以后说，“我必须催你赶快办这件婚事，因为我能活的时间很短了。” 
“您，夫人？” 
“您，亲爱的外婆？”维尔福先生和瓦朗蒂娜同时惊喊道。 
“我知道我在说什么话，”侯爵夫人继续说，“我必须催你赶快办，这样，在她结婚的时候，虽然没有母亲，至少还有一个外婆来为她祝福。我那可怜的蕾妮只剩下瓦朗蒂娜这条命根了，你是早把她忘掉的了，阁下。” 
“啊，夫人，”维尔福说，“您忘记了我不能让我的孩子没有母亲。” 
“继母决不是母亲，阁下。但这不是我们要谈的，我们只谈瓦朗蒂娜的婚事。我们不要去打扰死者吧。” 
这些话说得非常急促，她的谈话似乎有点象呓语了。 
“这件事一定照您的意见办理，夫人，”维尔福说，“尤其是您的意见正巧和我一致。伊皮奈先生一到巴黎——” 
“我亲爱的外婆，”瓦朗蒂娜插进来说，“应当想一想外公刚去世。您不会愿意我在这样不吉利的时候结婚的吗？” 
“我的孩子，”老太太厉声喊道，“别理会那些陈规俗套，它们只会使优柔寡断的人延迟建立他们的未来生活。我也是在我母亲的灵床前面结婚的，而我并没有因此减少了我的快乐。” 
“可是，应该考虑一下死者，夫人！”维尔福说。 
“可是？——永远要‘可是’下去吧！我告诉你，我就要死了，你懂不懂？在死以前，我要看看我的外孙女婿。我要嘱咐他让我的孩子快乐，我要从他的眼睛里看出他究竟会不会按我的嘱咐去做，总之，我要认识他，”老太太带着一种可怕的表情继续说，“如果将来他尽不到他的责任，我就从我的坟墓里爬起来找他！” 
“夫人，”维尔福说，“您得丢开这过于激动的念头，这样想下去是要发疯的。人一死被埋入坟墓以后，就长眠不起了。” 
“哦，是的，是的，亲爱的外婆，您定一定心吧。”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“我告诉你，阁下，你错啦。昨天晚上我睡得可怕极了。我的灵魂似乎已经脱离我的身体，在头顶上飘来荡去。我的眼睛不由自主地闭拢了，再也睁不开说来似乎不可能，尤其是你，阁下，我闭着眼睛竟也能看到东西，在你现在站的那个地方，从通到维尔福夫人梳妆室去的那个门的角落里，我看见，静静地进来了一个白色的人影。” 
瓦朗蒂娜尖声叫起来。“这是您发烧的缘故，夫人。”维尔福说。 
“信不信由你，但我知道我所说的的确是真的。我看到一个白色的人影。而且，象是恐怕我单凭一种感官的证明还不够似的，我又听到我的玻璃杯被挪动的声音——就是现在放在桌子上的那一只。” 
“噢，亲爱的外婆，那是一个梦。” 
“那不是做梦，因为我还伸手出去拉铃呢，但当我要拉铃的时候，那个影子不见了。接着我的婢女就拿着一盏灯进来。” 
“她没有看到什么吗？” 
“鬼只有应该看见它们的人才看得到。那是我丈夫的灵魂！如果我丈夫的灵魂可以到我这里来，为什么我的灵魂不能出来保护我的外孙女儿呢？据我看，这关系似乎更直接。” 
“哦，夫人，”维尔福不禁大为感动地说，“别去想那些伤心事了，您还要快乐地和我们一起生活。我们会永远爱你，尊敬您，我们会让您忘记” 
“不，不，不！”侯爵夫人说。“伊皮奈先生什么时候到？” 
“随时会到，我们正在等他呢。” 
“很好。他一到，马上通知我。我们必须赶紧给我去请一位公证人来，以便把我们的财产全部转到瓦朗蒂娜名下。” 
“哦，外婆！”瓦朗蒂娜把她的嘴唇贴到她外祖母滚烫的额头上，不安地说，“您是吓死我吗？”上帝啊，您在发烧，我们必须去找的不是公证人，而是医生！” 
“医生！”她耸耸肩说，“我没有病，我只是口渴。” 
“您要喝什么，亲爱的外婆？” 
“跟平常一样，喝杯子汁，我的杯子就在桌子上。拿给我，瓦朗蒂娜。” 
瓦朗蒂娜把橙汁倒在桌子上的玻璃杯里，拿给她的外祖母，心里有点害怕，因为鬼碰过这只杯子。侯爵夫人一口就把橙汁喝干，然后在枕头上辗转反侧，反复地喊道：“公证人！公证人！” 
维尔福先生走了，瓦朗蒂娜坐在外祖母的床边。那个可怜的孩子说她的外祖母需要医生，但看来她自己也很需要。她的脸颊绯红，呼吸短促而困难，脉搏跳得非常快。可怜的姑娘心想，要是马西米兰知道圣·梅朗夫人非但不是他的盟友，而且无意之中几乎也成了一个敌人，那时他会有多么失望。她不止一次想把一切都告诉她的外祖母，而且要是马西米兰·莫雷尔的名字是叫阿尔贝·马尔塞夫或夏多·勒诺的话，她早就毫不犹豫；但莫雷尔只是平民出身，而瓦朗蒂娜知道他那心高气傲的圣·梅朗侯爵夫人是多么鄙视一切平民出身的人。每当她要把她的秘密吐露出来的时候，就想到这不过是一种徒然的举动，便又伤心地把它抑制了下去，因为这个秘密一旦被她的父母发觉以后，就一切都完了。 
两个钟头就这样过去了。圣·梅朗夫人昏昏沉沉地睡着，公证人已到了。通报的声音虽然极轻，圣·梅朗夫人却立刻抬起头来。“公证人吗？”她喊道，“让他进来！” 
公证人本来就在门口，立刻走进来。“你去吧，瓦朗蒂娜，”圣·梅朗夫人说，“让我和这位先生谈一谈。” 
“但是，外婆——” 
“去吧！去！”那年轻姑娘吻了吻她的外祖母，用手帕擦着眼睛走了出去。她在房门口遇到维尔福先生的贴身男仆，男仆告诉她医生已在客厅里等着了。瓦朗蒂娜立刻跑下去。那个医生跟她家是世交，也是当代名医，非常喜欢瓦朗蒂娜，当年他是看着瓦朗蒂娜降临这个人世的。他自己也有一个年龄和她相仿佛的女儿，他的妻子是患肺病死的，因此他终生都在不断地为女儿担心。 
“哦，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我们等您等得急死了，亲爱的阿夫里尼先生。但先告诉我，梅蒂兰和安妥妮蒂可好吗？” 
梅蒂兰是阿夫里尼先生的女儿，安妥妮蒂是他的侄女。阿夫里尼先生忧郁笑了一下。“安妥妮蒂很好，”他说，“梅蒂兰也还算好。但你派人叫我来，我的好孩子，难道你的爸爸或维尔福夫人病了吗？至于你，心头的烦恼是明摆着的，但除了劝你不要太胡思乱想以外，我看你并不需要我的什么帮助。” 
瓦朗蒂娜的脸涨得通红。阿夫里尼的医道几乎到了出神入化的境地，因为她是一位主张治病先治心的医生。“不，”她答道，“是我那可怜的外祖母。我们所遭遇的不幸想必您已经知道了。” 
“一无所知。”阿夫里尼医生说。 
“唉！”瓦朗蒂娜忍着眼泪说，“我的外祖父死啦。” 
“圣·梅朗先生？” 
“是的。” 
“突然死的？” 
“暴发性中风。” 
“中风？”医生重复说。 
“是的。我那可怜的外婆从来没有和外公离开过，她幻想他已经来叫她了，以为她一定得去跟他在一起。噢，阿夫里尼医生，我求求您，想办法救救她。” 
“她在哪儿？” 
  
  
“在她的房间里，跟公证人在谈话呢。” 
“诺瓦蒂埃先生呢？” 
“还是老样子，他的神志十分清楚，但还是不能动，不能讲话。” 
“他还是照样爱你吗，我的好孩子？” 
“是的，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“他非常喜欢我。” 
“谁能不爱你呢？” 
瓦朗蒂娜忧郁地微笑了一下。 
“你外婆情况怎么样？” 
“处于一种奇特的兴奋状态，睡的时候昏昏沉沉，不正常。她今天早上硬说在睡觉的时候她的灵魂已经脱离身体，在她的头顶上盘旋，她自己竟能看得到，好象是神经错乱了。她看见一个鬼走进房间里来，甚至还听到鬼碰她的玻璃杯的声音。” 
“这就怪了，”医生说，“我以前不知道圣·梅朗夫人有这种幻觉症。” 
“我也是第一次看到她如此，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“今天早上她把我吓坏了，我简直以为她疯了。我父亲您知道，向来很坚强。可是他似乎也吓呆了。” 
“我们去看看吧，”医生说，“你讲给我听的那些事情我也觉得非常奇怪。” 
这时公证人下来了，瓦朗蒂娜知道她外祖母现在是自己呆在房间里。“请上楼去吧。”她对医生说。 
“你呢？” 
“噢，我不敢上去她不许我派人去找您，而且，正如您所说的，我自己心里也乱得很，有点发烧，很不舒服。我要到花园里去转一转，定定神。” 
医生握了握瓦朗蒂娜的手。上楼去看她的外祖母了，而瓦朗蒂娜则走下台阶。至于她喜欢是在花园的哪一部分散步自然不必再说了。平时，她总在房子周围的花坛间逗留一会儿，折一朵玫瑰花插在胸前或发鬓上，然后折入那条通到后门去的幽暗的走道。瓦朗蒂娜照常在花丛间走了一会儿，但并没有摘花。虽然她还来得及把自己打扮成居丧的样子，可是她内心的哀痛，使她感到作这种朴素的装饰，也是不应该的。她转身沿着那条小径走去。正当她往前走的时候，她好象听到有人在呼唤她的名字。她吃惊地停住脚步。那声音就更清晰地传入她的耳际，她听出那是马西米兰的声音。 
Chapter 73 The Promise
 IT WAS, indeed, Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretched existence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiar to lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame de Saint-Méran and the death of the marquis, that something would occur at M. de Villefort's in connection with his attachment for Valentine. His presentiments were realized, as we shall see, and his uneasy forebodings had goaded him pale and trembling to the gate under the chestnut-trees. Valentine was ignorant of the cause of this sorrow and anxiety, and as it was not his accustomed hour for visiting her, she had gone to the spot simply by accident or perhaps through sympathy. Morrel called her, and she ran to the gate. "You here at this hour?" said she. "Yes, my poor girl," replied Morrel; "I come to bring and to hear bad tidings." 
"This is, indeed, a house of mourning," said Valentine; "speak, Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems already full." 
"Dear Valentine," said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal his own emotion, "listen, I entreat you; what I am about to say is very serious. When are you to be married?" 
"I will tell you all," said Valentine; "from you I have nothing to conceal. This morning the subject was introduced, and my dear grandmother, on whom I depended as my only support, not only declared herself favorable to it, but is so anxious for it, that they only await the arrival of M. d'Epinay, and the following day the contract will be signed." 
A deep sigh escaped the young man, who gazed long and mournfully at her he loved. 
"Alas," replied he, "it is dreadful thus to hear my condemnation from your own lips. The sentence is passed, and, in a few hours, will be executed; it must be so, and I will not endeavor to prevent it. But, since you say nothing remains but for M. d'Epinay to arrive that the contract may be signed, and the following day you will be his, to-morrow you will be engaged to M. d'Epinay, for he came this morning to Paris." Valentine uttered a cry. 
"I was at the house of Monte Cristo an hour since," said Morrel; "we were speaking, he of the sorrow your family had experienced, and I of your grief, when a carriage rolled into the court-yard. Never, till then, had I placed any confidence in presentiments, but now I cannot help believing them, Valentine. At the sound of that carriage I shuddered; soon I heard steps on the staircase, which terrified me as much as the footsteps of the commander did Don Juan. The door at last opened; Albert de Morcerf entered first, and I began to hope my fears were vain, when, after him, another young man advanced, and the count exclaimed--'Ah, here is the Baron Franz d'Epinay!' I summoned all my strength and courage to my support. Perhaps I turned pale and trembled, but certainly I smiled; and five minutes after I left, without having heard one word that had passed." 
"Poor Maximilian!" murmured Valentine. 
"Valentine, the time has arrived when you must answer me. And remember my life depends on your answer. What do you intend doing?" Valentine held down her head; she was overwhelmed. 
"Listen," said Morrel; "it is not the first time you have contemplated our present position, which is a serious and urgent one; I do not think it is a moment to give way to useless sorrow; leave that for those who like to suffer at their leisure and indulge their grief in secret. There are such in the world, and God will doubtless reward them in heaven for their resignation on earth, but those who mean to contend must not lose one precious moment, but must return immediately the blow which fortune strikes. Do you intend to struggle against our ill-fortune? Tell me, Valentine for it is that I came to know." 
Valentine trembled, and looked at him with amazement. The idea of resisting her father, her grandmother, and all the family, had never occurred to her. "What do you say, Maximilian?" asked Valentine. "What do you mean by a struggle? Oh, it would be a sacrilege. What? I resist my father's order, and my dying grandmother's wish? Impossible!" Morrel started. "You are too noble not to understand me, and you understand me so well that you already yield, dear Maximilian. No, no; I shall need all my strength to struggle with myself and support my grief in secret, as you say. But to grieve my father--to disturb my grandmother's last moments--never!" 
"You are right," said Morrel, calmly. 
"In what a tone you speak!" cried Valentine. 
"I speak as one who admires you, mademoiselle." 
"Mademoiselle," cried Valentine; "mademoiselle! Oh, selfish man,--he sees me in despair, and pretends he cannot understand me!" 
"You mistake--I understand you perfectly. You will not oppose M. Villefort, you will not displease the marchioness, and to-morrow you will sign the contract which will bind you to your husband." 
"But, mon Dieu, tell me, how can I do otherwise?" 
"Do not appeal to me, mademoiselle; I shall be a bad judge in such a case; my selfishness will blind me," replied Morrel, whose low voice and clinched hands announced his growing desperation. 
"What would you have proposed, Maximilian, had you found me willing to accede?" 
"It is not for me to say." 
"You are wrong; you must advise me what to do." 
"Do you seriously ask my advice, Valentine?" 
"Certainly, dear Maximilian, for if it is good, I will follow it; you know my devotion to you." 
"Valentine," said Morrel pushing aside a loose plank, "give me your hand in token of forgiveness of my anger; my senses are confused, and during the last hour the most extravagant thoughts have passed through my brain. Oh, if you refuse my advice"-- 
"What do you advise?" said Valentine, raising her eyes to heaven and sighing. "I am free," replied Maximilian, "and rich enough to support you. I swear to make you my lawful wife before my lips even shall have approached your forehead." 
"You make me tremble!" said the young girl. 
"Follow me," said Morrel; "I will take you to my sister, who is worthy also to be yours. We will embark for Algiers, for England, for America, or, if your prefer it, retire to the country and only return to Paris when our friends have reconciled your family." Valentine shook her head. "I feared it, Maximilian," said she; "it is the counsel of a madman, and I should be more mad than you, did I not stop you at once with the word 'Impossible, impossible!'" 
"You will then submit to what fate decrees for you without even attempting to contend with it?" said Morrel sorrowfully. "Yes,--if I die!" 
"Well, Valentine," resumed Maximilian, "I can only say again that you are right. Truly, it is I who am mad, and you prove to me that passion blinds the most well-meaning. I appreciate your calm reasoning. It is then understood that to-morrow you will be irrevocably promised to M. Franz d'Epinay, not only by that theatrical formality invented to heighten the effect of a comedy called the signature of the contract, but your own will?" 
"Again you drive me to despair, Maximilian," said Valentine, "again you plunge the dagger into the wound! What would you do, tell me, if your sister listened to such a proposition?" 
"Mademoiselle," replied Morrel with a bitter smile, "I am selfish--you have already said so--and as a selfish man I think not of what others would do in my situation, but of what I intend doing myself. I think only that I have known you not a whole year. From the day I first saw you, all my hopes of happiness have been in securing your affection. One day you acknowledged that you loved me, and since that day my hope of future happiness has rested on obtaining you, for to gain you would be life to me. Now, I think no more; I say only that fortune has turned against me--I had thought to gain heaven, and now I have lost it. It is an every-day occurrence for a gambler to lose not only what he possesses but also what he has not." Morrel pronounced these words with perfect calmness; Valentine looked at him a moment with her large, scrutinizing eyes, endeavoring not to let Morrel discover the grief which struggled in her heart. "But, in a word, what are you going to do?" asked she. 
"I am going to have the honor of taking my leave of you, mademoiselle, solemnly assuring you that I wish your life may be so calm, so happy, and so fully occupied, that there may be no place for me even in your memory." 
"Oh!" murmured Valentine. 
"Adieu, Valentine, adieu!" said Morrel, bowing. 
"Where are you going?" cried the young girl, extending her hand through the opening, and seizing Maximilian by his coat, for she understood from her own agitated feelings that her lover's calmness could not be real; "where are you going?" 
"I am going, that I may not bring fresh trouble into your family: and to set an example which every honest and devoted man, situated as I am, may follow." 
"Before you leave me, tell me what you are going to do, Maximilian." The young man smiled sorrowfully. "Speak, speak!" said Valentine; "I entreat you." 
"Has your resolution changed, Valentine?" 
"It cannot change, unhappy man; you know it must not!" cried the young girl. "Then adieu, Valentine!" Valentine shook the gate with a strength of which she could not have been supposed to be possessed, as Morrel was going away, and passing both her hands through the opening, she clasped and wrung them. "I must know what you mean to do!" said she. "Where are you going?" 
"Oh, fear not," said Maximilian, stopping at a short distance, "I do not intend to render another man responsible for the rigorous fate reserved for me. Another might threaten to seek M. Franz, to provoke him, and to fight with him; all that would be folly. What has M. Franz to do with it? He saw me this morning for the first time, and has already forgotten he has seen me. He did not even know I existed when it was arranged by your two families that you should be united. I have no enmity against M. Franz, and promise you the punishment shall not fall on him." 
"On whom, then!--on me?" 
"On you? Valentine! Oh, heaven forbid! Woman is sacred; the woman one loves is holy." 
"On yourself, then, unhappy man; on yourself?" 
"I am the only guilty person, am I not?' said Maximilian. 
"Maximilian!" said Valentine, "Maximilian, come back, I entreat you!" He drew near with his sweet smile, and but for his paleness one might have thought him in his usual happy mood. "Listen, my dear, my adored Valentine," said he in his melodious and grave tone; "those who, like us, have never had a thought for which we need blush before the world, such may read each other's hearts. I never was romantic, and am no melancholy hero. I imitate neither Manfred nor Anthony; but without words, protestations, or vows, my life has entwined itself with yours; you leave me, and you are right in doing so,--I repeat it, you are right; but in losing you, I lose my life. 
"The moment you leave me, Valentine, I am alone in the world. My sister is happily married; her husband is only my brother-in-law, that is, a man whom the ties of social life alone attach to me; no one then longer needs my useless life. This is what I shall do; I will wait until the very moment you are married, for I will not lose the shadow of one of those unexpected chances which are sometimes reserved for us, since M. Franz may, after all, die before that time, a thunderbolt may fall even on the altar as you approach it,--nothing appears impossible to one condemned to die, and miracles appear quite reasonable when his escape from death is concerned. I will, then, wait until the last moment, and when my misery is certain, irremediable, hopeless, I will write a confidential letter to my brother-in-law, another to the prefect of police, to acquaint them with my intention, and at the corner of some wood, on the brink of some abyss, on the bank of some river, I will put an end to my existence, as certainly as I am the son of the most honest man who ever lived in France." 
Valentine trembled convulsively; she loosened her hold of the gate, her arms fell by her side, and two large tears rolled down her cheeks. The young man stood before her, sorrowful and resolute. "Oh, for pity's sake," said she, "you will live, will you not?" 
"No, on my honor," said Maximilian; "but that will not affect you. You have done your duty, and your conscience will be at rest." Valentine fell on her knees, and pressed her almost bursting heart. "Maximilian," said she, "Maximilian, my friend, my brother on earth, my true husband in heaven, I entreat you, do as I do, live in suffering; perhaps we may one day be united." 
"Adieu, Valentine," repeated Morrel. 
"My God," said Valentine, raising both her hands to heaven with a sublime expression, "I have done my utmost to remain a submissive daughter; I have begged, entreated, implored; he has regarded neither my prayers, my entreaties, nor my tears. It is done," cried she, willing away her tears, and resuming her firmness, "I am resolved not to die of remorse, but rather of shame. Live, Maximilian, and I will be yours. Say when shall it be? Speak, command, I will obey." Morrel, who had already gone some few steps away, again returned, and pale with joy extended both hands towards Valentine through the opening. "Valentine," said he, "dear Valentine, you must not speak thus--rather let me die. Why should I obtain you by violence, if our love is mutual? Is it from mere humanity you bid me live? I would then rather die." 
"Truly," murmured Valentine, "who on this earth cares for me, if he does not? Who has consoled me in my sorrow but he? On whom do my hopes rest? On whom does my bleeding heart repose? On him, on him, always on him! Yes, you are right, Maximilian, I will follow you. I will leave the paternal home, I will give up all. Oh, ungrateful girl that I am," cried Valentine, sobbing, "I will give up all, even my dear old grandfather, whom I had nearly forgotten." 
"No," said Maximilian, "you shall not leave him. M. Noirtier has evinced, you say, a kind feeling towards me. Well, before you leave, tell him all; his consent would be your justification in God's sight. As soon as we are married, he shall come and live with us, instead of one child, he shall have two. You have told me how you talk to him and how he answers you; I shall very soon learn that language by signs, Valentine, and I promise you solemnly, that instead of despair, it is happiness that awaits us." 
"Oh, see, Maximilian, see the power you have over me, you almost make me believe you; and yet, what you tell me is madness, for my father will curse me--he is inflexible--he will never pardon me. Now listen to me, Maximilian; if by artifice, by entreaty, by accident--in short, if by any means I can delay this marriage, will you wait?" 
"Yes, I promise you, as faithfully as you have promised me that this horrible marriage shall not take place, and that if you are dragged before a magistrate or a priest, you will refuse." 
"I promise you by all that is most sacred to me in the world, namely, by my mother." 
"We will wait, then," said Morrel. 
"Yes, we will wait," replied Valentine, who revived at these words; "there are so many things which may save unhappy beings such as we are." 
"I rely on you, Valentine," said Morrel; "all you do will be well done; only if they disregard your prayers, if your father and Madame de Saint-Méran insist that M. d'Epinay should be called to-morrow to sign the contract"-- 
"Then you have my promise, Maximilian." 
"Instead of signing"-- 
"I will go to you, and we will fly; but from this moment until then, let us not tempt providence, let us not see each other. It is a miracle, it is a providence that we have not been discovered. If we were surprised, if it were known that we met thus, we should have no further resource." 
"You are right, Valentine; but how shall I ascertain?" 
"From the notary, M. Deschamps." 
"I know him." 
"And for myself--I will write to you, depend on me. I dread this marriage, Maximilian, as much as you." 
"Thank you, my adored Valentine, thank you; that is enough. When once I know the hour, I will hasten to this spot, you can easily get over this fence with my assistance, a carriage will await us at the gate, in which you will accompany me to my sister's; there living, retired or mingling in society, as you wish, we shall be enabled to use our power to resist oppression, and not suffer ourselves to be put to death like sheep, which only defend themselves by sighs." 
"Yes," said Valentine, "I will now acknowledge you are right, Maximilian; and now are you satisfied with your betrothal?" said the young girl sorrowfully. 
"My adored Valentine, words cannot express one half of my satisfaction." Valentine had approached, or rather, had placed her lips so near the fence, that they nearly touched those of Morrel, which were pressed against the other side of the cold and inexorable barrier. "Adieu, then, till we meet again," said Valentine, tearing herself away. "I shall hear from you?" 
"Yes." 
"Thanks, thanks, dear love, adieu!" The sound of a kiss was heard, and Valentine fled through the avenue. Morrel listened to catch the last sound of her dress brushing the branches, and of her footstep on the gravel, then raised his eyes with an ineffable smile of thankfulness to heaven for being permitted to be thus loved, and then also disappeared. The young man returned home and waited all the evening and all the next day without getting any message. It was only on the following day, at about ten o'clock in the morning, as he was starting to call on M. Deschamps, the notary, that he received from the postman a small billet, which he knew to be from Valentine, although he had not before seen her writing. It was to this effect:-- 
"Tears, entreaties, prayers, have availed me nothing. Yesterday, for two hours, I was at the church of Saint-Phillippe du Roule, and for two hours I prayed most fervently. Heaven is as inflexible as man, and the signature of the contract is fixed for this evening at nine o'clock. I have but one promise and but one heart to give; that promise is pledged to you, that heart is also yours. This evening, then, at a quarter to nine at the gate. 
"Your betrothed, 
"VALENTINE DE VILLEFORT 
"P.S.--My poor grandmother gets worse and worse; yesterday her fever amounted to delirium; to-day her delirium is almost madness. You will be very kind to me, will you not, Morrel, to make me forget my sorrow in leaving her thus? I think it is kept a secret from grandpapa Noirtier, that the contract is to be signed this evening." 
Morrel went also to the notary, who confirmed the news that the contract was to be signed that evening. Then he went to call on Monte Cristo and heard still more. Franz had been to announce the ceremony, and Madame de Villefort had also written to beg the count to excuse her not inviting him; the death of M. de Saint-Méran and the dangerous illness of his widow would cast a gloom over the meeting which she would regret should be shared by the count whom she wished every happiness. The day before Franz had been presented to Madame de Saint-Méran, who had left her bed to receive him, but had been obliged to return to it immediately after. It is easy to suppose that Morrel's agitation would not escape the count's penetrating eye. Monte Cristo was more affectionate than ever,--indeed, his manner was so kind that several times Morrel was on the point of telling him all. But he recalled the promise he had made to Valentine, and kept his secret. 
The young man read Valentine's letter twenty times in the course of the day. It was her first, and on what an occasion! Each time he read it he renewed his vow to make her happy. How great is the power of a woman who has made so courageous a resolution! What devotion does she deserve from him for whom she has sacrificed everything! How ought she really to be supremely loved! She becomes at once a queen and a wife, and it is impossible to thank and love her sufficiently. Morrel longed intensely for the moment when he should hear Valentine say, "Here I am, Maximilian; come and help me." He had arranged everything for her escape; two ladders were hidden in the clover-field; a cabriolet was ordered for Maximilian alone, without a servant, without lights; at the turning of the first street they would light the lamps, as it would be foolish to attract the notice of the police by too many precautions. Occasionally he shuddered; he thought of the moment when, from the top of that wall, he should protect the descent of his dear Valentine, pressing in his arms for the first time her of whom he had yet only kissed the delicate hand. 
When the afternoon arrived and he felt that the hour was drawing near, he wished for solitude, his agitation was extreme; a simple question from a friend would have irritated him. He shut himself in his room, and tried to read, but his eye glanced over the page without understanding a word, and he threw away the book, and for the second time sat down to sketch his plan, the ladders and the fence. At length the hour drew near. Never did a man deeply in love allow the clocks to go on peacefully. Morrel tormented his so effectually that they struck eight at half-past six. He then said, "It is time to start; the signature was indeed fixed to take place at nine o'clock, but perhaps Valentine will not wait for that. Consequently, Morrel, having left the Rue Meslay at half-past eight by his timepiece, entered the clover-field while the clock of Saint-Phillippe du Roule was striking eight. The horse and cabriolet were concealed behind a small ruin, where Morrel had often waited. 
The night gradually drew on, and the foliage in the garden assumed a deeper hue. Then Morrel came out from his hiding-place with a beating heart, and looked through the small opening in the gate; there was yet no one to be seen. The clock struck half-past eight, and still another half-hour was passed in waiting, while Morrel walked to and fro, and gazed more and more frequently through the opening. The garden became darker still, but in the darkness he looked in vain for the white dress, and in the silence he vainly listened for the sound of footsteps. The house, which was discernible through the trees, remained in darkness, and gave no indication that so important an event as the signature of a marriage-contract was going on. Morrel looked at his watch, which wanted a quarter to ten; but soon the same clock he had already heard strike two or three times rectified the error by striking half-past nine. 
This was already half an hour past the time Valentine had fixed. It was a terrible moment for the young man. The slightest rustling of the foliage, the least whistling of the wind, attracted his attention, and drew the perspiration to his brow; then he tremblingly fixed his ladder, and, not to lose a moment, placed his foot on the first step. Amidst all these alternations of hope and fear, the clock struck ten. "It is impossible," said Maximilian, "that the signing of a contract should occupy so long a time without unexpected interruptions. I have weighed all the chances, calculated the time required for all the forms; something must have happened." And then he walked rapidly to and fro, and pressed his burning forehead against the fence. Had Valentine fainted? or had she been discovered and stopped in her flight? These were the only obstacles which appeared possible to the young man. 
The idea that her strength had failed her in attempting to escape, and that she had fainted in one of the paths, was the one that most impressed itself upon his mind. "In that case," said he, "I should lose her, and by my own fault." He dwelt on this idea for a moment, then it appeared reality. He even thought he could perceive something on the ground at a distance; he ventured to call, and it seemed to him that the wind wafted back an almost inarticulate sigh. At last the half-hour struck. It was impossible to wait longer, his temples throbbed violently, his eyes were growing dim; he passed one leg over the wall, and in a moment leaped down on the other side. He was on Villefort's premises--had arrived there by scaling the wall. What might be the consequences? However, he had not ventured thus far to draw back. He followed a short distance close under the wall, then crossed a path, hid entered a clump of trees. In a moment he had passed through them, and could see the house distinctly. Then Morrel saw that he had been right in believing that the house was not illuminated. Instead of lights at every window, as is customary on days of ceremony, he saw only a gray mass, which was veiled also by a cloud, which at that moment obscured the moon's feeble light. A light moved rapidly from time to time past three windows of the second floor. These three windows were in Madame de Saint-Méran's room. Another remained motionless behind some red curtains which were in Madame de Villefort's bedroom. Morrel guessed all this. So many times, in order to follow Valentine in thought at every hour in the day, had he made her describe the whole house, that without having seen it he knew it all. 
This darkness and silence alarmed Morrel still more than Valentine's absence had done. Almost mad with grief, and determined to venture everything in order to see Valentine once more, and be certain of the misfortune he feared, Morrel gained the edge of the clump of trees, and was going to pass as quickly as possible through the flower-garden, when the sound of a voice, still at some distance, but which was borne upon the wind, reached him. 
At this sound, as he was already partially exposed to view, he stepped back and concealed himself completely, remaining perfectly motionless. He had formed his resolution. If it was Valentine alone, he would speak as she passed; if she was accompanied, and he could not speak, still he should see her, and know that she was safe; if they were strangers, he would listen to their conversation, and might understand something of this hitherto incomprehensible mystery. The moon had just then escaped from behind the cloud which had concealed it, and Morrel saw Villefort come out upon the steps, followed by a gentleman in black. They descended, and advanced towards the clump of trees, and Morrel soon recognized the other gentleman as Doctor d'Avrigny. 
The young man, seeing them approach, drew back mechanically, until he found himself stopped by a sycamore-tree in the centre of the clump; there he was compelled to remain. Soon the two gentlemen stopped also. 
"Ah, my dear doctor," said the procureur, "heaven declares itself against my house! What a dreadful death--what a blow! Seek not to console me; alas, nothing can alleviate so great a sorrow--the wound is too deep and too fresh! Dead, dead!" The cold sweat sprang to the young man's brow, and his teeth chattered. Who could be dead in that house, which Villefort himself had called accursed? "My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, with a tone which redoubled the terror of the young man, "I have not led you here to console you; on the contrary"-- 
"What can you mean?" asked the procureur, alarmed. 
"I mean that behind the misfortune which has just happened to you, there is another, perhaps, still greater." 
"Can it be possible?" murmured Villefort, clasping his hands. "What are you going to tell me?" 
"Are we quite alone, my friend?" 
"Yes, quite; but why all these precautions?" 
"Because I have a terrible secret to communicate to you," said the doctor. "Let us sit down." 
Villefort fell, rather than seated himself The doctor stood before him, with one hand placed on his shoulder. Morrel, horrified, supported his head with one hand, and with the other pressed his heart, lest its beatings should be heard. "Dead, dead!" repeated he within himself; and he felt as if he were also dying. 
"Speak, doctor--I am listening," said Villefort; "strike--I am prepared for everything!" 
"Madame de Saint-Méran was, doubtless, advancing in years, but she enjoyed excellent health." Morrel began again to breathe freely, which he had not done during the last ten minutes. 
"Grief has consumed her," said Villefort--"yes, grief, doctor! After living forty years with the marquis"-- 
"It is not grief, my dear Villefort," said the doctor; "grief may kill, although it rarely does, and never in a day, never in an hour, never in ten minutes." Villefort answered nothing, he simply raised his head, which had been cast down before, and looked at the doctor with amazement. 
"Were you present during the last struggle?" asked M. d'Avrigny. 
"I was," replied the procureur; "you begged me not to leave." 
"Did you notice the symptoms of the disease to which Madame de Saint-Méran has fallen a victim?" 
"I did. Madame de Saint-Méran had three successive attacks, at intervals of some minutes, each one more serious than the former. When you arrived, Madame de Saint-Méran had already been panting for breath some minutes; she then had a fit, which I took to be simply a nervous attack, and it was only when I saw her raise herself in the bed, and her limbs and neck appear stiffened, that I became really alarmed. Then I understood from your countenance there was more to fear than I had thought. This crisis past, I endeavored to catch your eye, but could not. You held her hand--you were feeling her pulse--and the second fit came on before you had turned towards me. This was more terrible than the first; the same nervous movements were repeated, and the mouth contracted and turned purple." 
"And at the third she expired." 
"At the end of the first attack I discovered symptoms of tetanus; you confirmed my opinion." 
"Yes, before others," replied the doctor; "but now we are alone"-- 
"What are you going to say? Oh, spare me!" 
"That the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetable substances are the same." M. de Villefort started from his seat, then in a moment fell down again, silent and motionless. Morrel knew not if he were dreaming or awake. "Listen, said the doctor; "I know the full importance of the statement I have just made, and the disposition of the man to whom I have made it." 
"Do you speak to me as a magistrate or as a friend?" asked Villefort. 
"As a friend, and only as a friend, at this moment. The similarity in the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetable substances is so great, that were I obliged to affirm by oath what I have now stated, I should hesitate; I therefore repeat to you, I speak not to a magistrate, but to a friend. And to that friend I say. 'During the three-quarters of an hour that the struggle continued, I watched the convulsions and the death of Madame de Saint-Méran, and am thoroughly convinced that not only did her death proceed from poison, but I could also specify the poison.'" 
"Can it be possible?" 
"The symptoms are marked, do you see?--sleep broken by nervous spasms, excitation of the brain, torpor of the nerve centres. Madame de Saint-Méran succumbed to a powerful dose of brucine or of strychnine, which by some mistake, perhaps, has been given to her." Villefort seized the doctor's hand. "Oh, it is impossible," said he, "I must be dreaming! It is frightful to hear such things from such a man as you! Tell me, I entreat you, my dear doctor, that you may be deceived." 
"Doubtless I may, but"-- 
"But?" 
"But I do not think so." 
"Have pity on me doctor! So many dreadful things have happened to me lately that I am on the verge of madness." 
"Has any one besides me seen Madame de Saint-Méran?" 
"No." 
"Has anything been sent for from a chemist's that I have not examined?" 
"Nothing." 
"Had Madame de Saint-Méran any enemies?" 
"Not to my knowledge." 
"Would her death affect any one's interest?" 
"It could not indeed, my daughter is her only heiress--Valentine alone. Oh, if such a thought could present itself, I would stab myself to punish my heart for having for one instant harbored it." 
"Indeed, my dear friend," said M. d'Avrigny, "I would not accuse any one; I speak only of an accident, you understand,--of a mistake,--but whether accident or mistake, the fact is there; it is on my conscience and compels me to speak aloud to you. Make inquiry." 
"Of whom?--how?--of what?" 
"May not Barrois, the old servant, have made a mistake, and have given Madame de Saint-Méran a dose prepared for his master?" 
"For my father?" 
"Yes." 
"But how could a dose prepared for M. Noirtier poison Madame de Saint-Méran?" 
"Nothing is more simple. You know poisons become remedies in certain diseases, of which paralysis is one. For instance, having tried every other remedy to restore movement and speech to M. Noirtier, I resolved to try one last means, and for three months I have been giving him brucine; so that in the last dose I ordered for him there were six grains. This quantity, which is perfectly safe to administer to the paralyzed frame of M. Noirtier, which has become gradually accustomed to it, would be sufficient to kill another person." 
"My dear doctor, there is no communication between M. Noirtier's apartment and that of Madame de Saint-Méran, and Barrois never entered my mother-in-law's room. In short, doctor although I know you to be the most conscientious man in the world, and although I place the utmost reliance in you, I want, notwithstanding my conviction, to believe this axiom, errare humanum est." 
"Is there one of my brethren in whom you have equal confidence with myself?" 
"Why do you ask me that?--what do you wish?" 
"Send for him; I will tell him what I have seen, and we will consult together, and examine the body." 
"And you will find traces of poison?" 
"No, I did not say of poison, but we can prove what was the state of the body; we shall discover the cause of her sudden death, and we shall say, 'Dear Villefort, if this thing has been caused by negligence, watch over your servants; if from hatred, watch your enemies.'" 
"What do you propose to me, d'Avrigny?" said Villefort in despair; "so soon as another is admitted into our secret, an inquest will become necessary; and an inquest in my house--impossible! Still," continued the procureur, looking at the doctor with uneasiness, "if you wish it--if you demand it, why then it shall be done. But, doctor, you see me already so grieved--how can I introduce into my house so much scandal, after so much sorrow? My wife and my daughter would die of it! And I, doctor--you know a man does not arrive at the post I occupy--one has not been king's attorney twenty-five years without having amassed a tolerable number of enemies; mine are numerous. Let this affair be talked of, it will be a triumph for them, which will make them rejoice, and cover me with shame. Pardon me, doctor, these worldly ideas; were you a priest I should not dare tell you that, but you are a man, and you know mankind. Doctor, pray recall your words; you have said nothing, have you?" 
"My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, "my first duty is to humanity. I would have saved Madame de Saint-Méran, if science could have done it; but she is dead and my duty regards the living. Let us bury this terrible secret in the deepest recesses of our hearts; I am willing, if any one should suspect this, that my silence on the subject should be imputed to my ignorance. Meanwhile, sir, watch always--watch carefully, for perhaps the evil may not stop here. And when you have found the culprit, if you find him, I will say to you, 'You are a magistrate, do as you will!'" 
"I thank you, doctor," said Villefort with indescribable joy; "I never had a better friend than you." And, as if he feared Doctor d'Avrigny would recall his promise, he hurried him towards the house. 
When they were gone, Morrel ventured out from under the trees, and the moon shone upon his face, which was so pale it might have been taken for that of a ghost. "I am manifestly protected in a most wonderful, but most terrible manner," said he; "but Valentine, poor girl, how will she bear so much sorrow?" 
As he thought thus, he looked alternately at the window with red curtains and the three windows with white curtains. The light had almost disappeared from the former; doubtless Madame de Villefort had just put out her lamp, and the nightlamp alone reflected its dull light on the window. At the extremity of the building, on the contrary, he saw one of the three windows open. A wax-light placed on the mantle-piece threw some of its pale rays without, and a shadow was seen for one moment on the balcony. Morrel shuddered; he thought he heard a sob. 
It cannot be wondered at that his mind, generally so courageous, but now disturbed by the two strongest human passions, love and fear, was weakened even to the indulgence of superstitious thoughts. Although it was impossible that Valentine should see him, hidden as he was, he thought he heard the shadow at the window call him; his disturbed mind told him so. This double error became an irresistible reality, and by one of the incomprehensible transports of youth, he bounded from his hiding-place, and with two strides, at the risk of being seen, at the risk of alarming Valentine, at the risk of being discovered by some exclamation which might escape the young girl, he crossed the flower-garden, which by the light of the moon resembled a large white lake, and having passed the rows of orange-trees which extended in front of the house, he reached the step, ran quickly up and pushed the door, which opened without offering any resistance. Valentine had not seen him. Her eyes, raised towards heaven, were watching a silvery cloud gliding over the azure, its form that of a shadow mounting towards heaven. Her poetic and excited mind pictured it as the soul of her grandmother. 
Meanwhile, Morrel had traversed the anteroom and found the staircase, which, being carpeted, prevented his approach being heard, and he had regained that degree of confidence that the presence of M. de Villefort even would not have alarmed him. He was quite prepared for any such encounter. He would at once approach Valentine's father and acknowledge all, begging Villefort to pardon and sanction the love which united two fond and loving hearts. Morrel was mad. Happily he did not meet any one. Now, especially, did he find the description Valentine had given of the interior of the house useful to him; he arrived safely at the top of the staircase, and while he was feeling his way, a sob indicated the direction he was to take. He turned back, a door partly open enabled him to see his road, and to hear the voice of one in sorrow. He pushed the door open and entered. At the other end of the room, under a white sheet which covered it, lay the corpse, still more alarming to Morrel since the account he had so unexpectedly overheard. By its side, on her knees, and with her head buried in the cushion of an easy-chair, was Valentine, trembling and sobbing, her hands extended above her head, clasped and stiff. She had turned from the window, which remained open, and was praying in accents that would have affected the most unfeeling; her words were rapid, incoherent, unintelligible, for the burning weight of grief almost stopped her utterance. The moon shining through the open blinds made the lamp appear to burn paler, and cast a sepulchral hue over the whole scene. Morrel could not resist this; he was not exemplary for piety, he was not easily impressed, but Valentine suffering, weeping, wringing her hands before him, was more than he could bear in silence. He sighed, and whispered a name, and the head bathed in tears and pressed on the velvet cushion of the chair--a head like that of a Magdalen by Correggio--was raised and turned towards him. Valentine perceived him without betraying the least surprise. A heart overwhelmed with one great grief is insensible to minor emotions. Morrel held out his hand to her. Valentine, as her only apology for not having met him, pointed to the corpse under the sheet, and began to sob again. Neither dared for some time to speak in that room. They hesitated to break the silence which death seemed to impose; at length Valentine ventured. 
"My friend," said she, "how came you here? Alas, I would say you are welcome, had not death opened the way for you into this house." 
"Valentine," said Morrel with a trembling voice, "I had waited since half-past eight, and did not see you come; I became uneasy, leaped the wall, found my way through the garden, when voices conversing about the fatal event"-- 
"What voices ?" asked Valentine. Morrel shuddered as he thought of the conversation of the doctor and M. de Villefort, and he thought he could see through the sheet the extended hands, the stiff neck, and the purple lips. 
"Your servants," said he, "who were repeating the whole of the sorrowful story; from them I learned it all." 
"But it was risking the failure of our plan to come up here, love." 
"Forgive me," replied Morrel; "I will go away." 
"No," said Valentine, "you might meet some one; stay." 
"But if any one should come here"-- 
The young girl shook her head. "No one will come," said she; "do not fear, there is our safeguard," pointing to the bed. 
"But what has become of M. d'Epinay?" replied Morrel. 
"M. Franz arrived to sign the contract just as my dear grandmother was dying." 
"Alas," said Morrel with a feeling of selfish joy; for he thought this death would cause the wedding to be postponed indefinitely. "But what redoubles my sorrow," continued the young girl, as if this feeling was to receive its immediate punishment, "is that the poor old lady, on her death-bed, requested that the marriage might take place as soon as possible; she also, thinking to protect me, was acting against me." 
"Hark!" said Morrel. They both listened; steps were distinctly heard in the corridor and on the stairs. 
"It is my father, who has just left his study." 
"To accompany the doctor to the door," added Morrel. 
"How do you know it is the doctor?" asked Valentine, astonished. 
"I imagined it must be," said Morrel. Valentine looked at the young man; they heard the street door close, then M. de Villefort locked the garden door, and returned up-stairs. He stopped a moment in the anteroom, as if hesitating whether to turn to his own apartment or into Madame de Saint-Méran's; Morrel concealed himself behind a door; Valentine remained motionless, grief seeming to deprive her of all fear. M. de Villefort passed on to his own room. "Now," said Valentine, "you can neither go out by the front door nor by the garden." Morrel looked at her with astonishment. "There is but one way left you that is safe," said she; "it is through my grandfather's room." She rose, "Come," she added.--"Where?" asked Maximilian. 
"To my grandfather's room." 
"I in M. Noirtier's apartment?" 
"Yes." 
"Can you mean it, Valentine?" 
"I have long wished it; he is my only remaining friend and we both need his help,--come." 
"Be careful, Valentine," said Morrel, hesitating to comply with the young girl's wishes; "I now see my error--I acted like a madman in coming in here. Are you sure you are more reasonable?" 
"Yes," said Valentine; "and I have but one scruple,--that of leaving my dear grandmother's remains, which I had undertaken to watch." 
"Valentine," said Morrel, "death is in itself sacred." 
"Yes," said Valentine; "besides, it will not be for long." She then crossed the corridor, and led the way down a narrow staircase to M. Noirtier's room; Morrel followed her on tiptoe; at the door they found the old servant. "Barrois," said Valentine, "shut the door, and let no one come in." She passed first. Noirtier, seated in his chair, and listening to every sound, was watching the door; he saw Valentine, and his eye brightened. There was something grave and solemn in the approach of the young girl which struck the old man, and immediately his bright eye began to interrogate. "Dear grandfather." said she hurriedly, "you know poor grandmamma died an hour since, and now I have no friend in the world but you." His expressive eyes evinced the greatest tenderness. "To you alone, then, may I confide my sorrows and my hopes?" The paralytic motioned "Yes." Valentine took Maximilian's hand. "Look attentively, then, at this gentleman." The old man fixed his scrutinizing gaze with slight astonishment on Morrel. "It is M. Maximilian Morrel," said she; "the son of that good merchant of Marseilles, whom you doubtless recollect." 
"Yes," said the old man. "He brings an irreproachable name, which Maximilian is likely to render glorious, since at thirty years of age he is a captain, an officer of the Legion of Honor." The old man signified that he recollected him. "Well, grandpapa," said Valentine, kneeling before him, and pointing to Maximilian, "I love him, and will be only his; were I compelled to marry another, I would destroy myself." 
The eyes of the paralytic expressed a multitude of tumultuous thoughts. "You like M. Maximilian Morrel, do you not, grandpapa?" asked Valentine. 
"Yes." 
"And you will protect us, who are your children, against the will of my father?"--Noirtier cast an intelligent glance at Morrel, as if to say, "perhaps I may." Maximilian understood him. 
"Mademoiselle," said he, "you have a sacred duty to fulfil in your deceased grandmother's room, will you allow me the honor of a few minutes' conversation with M. Noirtier?" 
"That is it," said the old man's eye. Then he looked anxiously at Valentine. 
"Do you fear he will not understand?" 
"Yes." 
"Oh, we have so often spoken of you, that he knows exactly how I talk to you." Then turning to Maximilian, with an adorable smile; although shaded by sorrow,--"He knows everything I know," said she. 
Valentine arose, placed a chair for Morrel, requested Barrois not to admit any one, and having tenderly embraced her grandfather, and sorrowfully taken leave of Morrel, she went away. To prove to Noirtier that he was in Valentine's confidence and knew all their secrets, Morrel took the dictionary, a pen, and some paper, and placed them all on a table where there was a light. 
"But first," said Morrel, "allow me, sir, to tell you who I am, how much I love Mademoiselle Valentine, and what are my designs respecting her." Noirtier made a sign that he would listen. 
It was an imposing sight to witness this old man, apparently a mere useless burden, becoming the sole protector, support, and adviser of the lovers who were both young, beautiful, and strong. His remarkably noble and austere expression struck Morrel, who began his story with trembling. He related the manner in which he had become acquainted with Valentine, and how he had loved her, and that Valentine, in her solitude and her misfortune, had accepted the offer of his devotion. He told him his birth, his position, his fortune, and more than once, when he consulted the look of the paralytic, that look answered, "That is good, proceed." 
"And now," said Morrel, when he had finished the first part of his recital, "now I have told you of my love and my hopes, may I inform you of my intentions?" 
"Yes," signified the old man. 
"This was our resolution; a cabriolet was in waiting at the gate, in which I intended to carry off Valentine to my sister's house, to marry her, and to wait respectfully M. de Villefort's pardon." 
"No," said Noirtier. 
"We must not do so?" 
"No." 
"You do not sanction our project?" 
"No." 
"There is another way," said Morrel. The old man's interrogative eye said, "What?" 
"I will go," continued Maximilian, "I will seek M. Franz d'Epinay--I am happy to be able to mention this in Mademoiselle de Villefort's absence--and will conduct myself toward him so as to compel him to challenge me." Noirtier's look continued to interrogate. "You wish to know what I will do?" 
"Yes." 
"I will find him, as I told you. I will tell him the ties which bind me to Mademoiselle Valentine; if he be a sensible man, he will prove it by renouncing of his own accord the hand of his betrothed, and will secure my friendship, and love until death; if he refuse, either through interest or ridiculous pride, after I have proved to him that he would be forcing my wife from me, that Valentine loves me, and will have no other, I will fight with him, give him every advantage, and I shall kill him, or he will kill me; if I am victorious, he will not marry Valentine, and if I die, I am very sure Valentine will not marry him." Noirtier watched, with indescribable pleasure, this noble and sincere countenance, on which every sentiment his tongue uttered was depicted, adding by the expression of his fine features all that coloring adds to a sound and faithful drawing. Still, when Morrel had finished, he shut his eyes several times, which was his manner of saying "No." 
"No?" said Morrel; "you disapprove of this second project, as you did of the first?" 
"I do," signified the old man. 
"But what then must be done?" asked Morrel. "Madame de Saint-Méran's last request was, that the marriage might not be delayed; must I let things take their course?" Noirtier did not move. "I understand," said Morrel; "I am to wait." 
"Yes." 
"But delay may ruin our plan, sir," replied the young man. "Alone, Valentine has no power; she will be compelled to submit. I am here almost miraculously, and can scarcely hope for so good an opportunity to occur again. Believe me, there are only the two plans I have proposed to you; forgive my vanity, and tell me which you prefer. Do you authorize Mademoiselle Valentine to intrust herself to my honor?" 
"No." 
"Do you prefer I should seek M. d'Epinay?" 
"No." 
"Whence then will come the help we need--from chance?" resumed Morrel. 
"No." 
"From you?" "Yes." 
"You thoroughly understand me, sir? Pardon my eagerness, for my life depends on your answer. Will our help come from you?" 
"Yes." 
"You are sure of it?" 
"Yes." There was so much firmness in the look which gave this answer, no one could, at any rate, doubt his will, if they did his power. "Oh, thank you a thousand times! But how, unless a miracle should restore your speech, your gesture, your movement, how can you, chained to that arm-chair, dumb and motionless, oppose this marriage?" A smile lit up the old man's face, a strange smile of the eyes in a paralyzed face. "Then I must wait?" asked the young man. 
"Yes." 
"But the contract?" The same smile returned. "Will you assure me it shall not be signed?" 
"Yes," said Noirtier. 
"The contract shall not be signed!" cried Morrel. "Oh, pardon me, sir; I can scarcely realize so great a happiness. Will they not sign it?" 
"No," said the paralytic. Notwithstanding that assurance, Morrel still hesitated. This promise of an impotent old man was so strange that, instead of being the result of the power of his will, it might emanate from enfeebled organs. Is it not natural that the madman, ignorant of his folly, should attempt things beyond his power? The weak man talks of burdens he can raise, the timid of giants he can confront, the poor of treasures he spends, the most humble peasant, in the height of his pride, calls himself Jupiter. Whether Noirtier understood the young man's indecision, or whether he had not full confidence in his docility, he looked uneasily at him. "What do you wish, sir?" asked Morrel; "that I should renew my promise of remaining tranquil?" Noirtier's eye remained fixed and firm, as if to imply that a promise did not suffice; then it passed from his face to his hands. 
"Shall I swear to you, sir?" asked Maximilian. 
"Yes?" said the paralytic with the same solemnity. Morrel understood that the old man attached great importance to an oath. He extended his hand. 
"I swear to you, on my honor," said he, "to await your decision respecting the course I am to pursue with M. d'Epinay." 
"That is right," said the old man. 
"Now," said Morrel, "do you wish me to retire?" 
"Yes." 
"Without seeing Mademoiselle Valentine?" 
"Yes." 
Morrel made a sign that he was ready to obey. "But," said he, "first allow me to embrace you as your daughter did just now." Noirtier's expression could not be understood. The young man pressed his lips on the same spot, on the old man's forehead, where Valentine's had been. Then he bowed a second time and retired. He found outside the door the old servant, to whom Valentine had given directions. Morrel was conducted along a dark passage, which led to a little door opening on the garden, soon found the spot where he had entered, with the assistance of the shrubs gained the top of the wall, and by his ladder was in an instant in the clover-field where his cabriolet was still waiting for him. He got in it, and thoroughly wearied by so many emotions, arrived about midnight in the Rue Meslay, threw himself on his bed and slept soundly.  
那人果然是马西米兰·莫雷尔。自从前一天起。他一直愁肠百结。凭着情人们所特有的本能，在侯爵去世和圣·梅朗夫人回来以后，他预料到维尔福先生的家里准会发生那种与他对瓦朗蒂娜的爱情利害攸关的事情。我们马上就会看到，他的预感的确变成了现实。使他脸色苍白、浑身战栗地来到栗子树下铁门前的，也不再仅仅是一种不安的感觉。瓦朗蒂娜并不知道莫雷尔在等她，以前是他不会这个时候来的，所以她到花园里来，纯粹是一种巧合，或说得更确切些，是一种心灵感应的奇迹。一听见莫雷尔喊她，她就向门口跑去。 
“这个时候来了？”她说。 
“是的，我可怜的瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔答道，“我带来了坏消息并且准备再听到坏消息的。” 
“这么说，这实在是座不吉利的宅子了！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“说吧，马西米兰，虽然现在这些悲痛也已经让人受不了了。” 
“亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔竭力掩饰自己的激动情绪，说，“好好听着，我求求你，我要说的这件事是很严肃的。他们打算什么时候为你办婚事。 
“我把一切都告诉你，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“对你，我什么都不必隐瞒。我的婚事今天早上他们就谈到了，我那亲爱的外婆，我本来以为她可以帮助我的，但她不但赞成这门亲事，而且希望赶快办成，他们只等伊皮奈先生一到，第二天就签订婚约。” 
年轻人痛苦地长叹了一声，悲哀地凝望着姑娘。“唉！”他用低沉的声音说，“太可怕了，听自己所爱的女人平静地说出：‘你行刑的时间已经定了，几小时以后就要执行。但这无关紧要必须如此，我不愿意插身其间来阻止它。’啊，既然如你所说的，一切只等伊皮奈先生一到就可以了结，在他到后的第二天，婚书就要签订，你就将属于他那么你明天就和伊皮奈先生订婚吧。因为今天早晨他已经来到巴黎了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜喊了一声。 
“一小时以前，我在基督山家里，”莫雷尔说，“我们正在聊天，他谈论你家里所遭到的不幸，我谈论你的伤心，那时一辆马车辚辚地驶进前庭。在那以前，我从来不相信有‘预感’存在，但现在我却不能不相信了，瓦朗蒂娜。听到那辆马车的声音，我就打了一个寒颤，接着我就听到楼梯上响起脚步声，觉得我当时就象死囚听到监斩官的脚步声一样。门开了，第一个进来的是阿尔贝·马尔塞夫，我还在心里极力对自己说预感是错误的、但他的后面又进来一个年轻人，伯爵喊道：‘啊！弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵阁下！’的时候，我集中自己的全部力量和勇气来支撑自己。或许我的脸色是惨白的，也许我在发抖，但我确信我的嘴唇上始终保持着微笑。五分钟以后我就告辞了，在那五分钟里面，我一个字也没有听到——我感到自己彻底垮了！” 
“可怜的马西米兰！”瓦朗蒂娜喃喃地说。 
“瓦朗蒂娜，现在已经到了你答复我的时间了。要记住，生与死都由你决定。你打算怎么办？” 
瓦朗蒂娜低垂下头，她悲痛欲绝，方寸大乱。 
“听着！”莫雷尔说，“目前的情况非常严重已经迫在眉睫，这种情况你当然不会是第一次考虑到。现在不是悲哀的时候，那些喜欢慢慢地用痛苦来消磨时间、用吞咽泪水来打发日子的人，才肯干这种事。世界上的确有这种人，在人世间逆来顺受，上帝无疑的会在天上补偿他们。但在那些有抗争意识的人，他们就决不会浪费一刻宝贵的时间，他会立即对命运之神的打击予以还击。你是否预备和我们的厄运抗争？告诉我吧，瓦朗蒂娜，我就是为问你这话而来的。” 
瓦朗蒂娜浑身颤抖，一双惊恐的大眼睛凝视着莫雷尔。去和她的父亲、她的外祖母以及她的整个家庭作对，对于这种念头她从来没有想到过。“你说什么，马西梅朗？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。“你所谓奋斗是什么意思？哦，这是亵渎神灵的呀！什么！让我违背我父亲和我那垂死的外祖母的意愿不可能的！” 
莫雷尔吓了一跳。“你高贵的心地，不会不了解我，你对我了解得非常清楚，而我眼看着你忍受了这么久，亲爱的马西米兰。不！我要用我的全部力量来和我自己奋斗，象你所说的那样饮干我的眼泪。要让我父亲伤心，让临终的外婆在离开人世前不得安宁，绝对不行！” 
“您说得很有道理。”莫雷尔冷漠地说。 
“上帝呀！你怎么用这种口气对我说话！”瓦朗蒂娜愠怒地说。 
“是用一个崇拜你的人的口气来对你说话，小姐。” 
“小姐！”马西米兰喊道，“小姐！噢，自私自利的人呀！你看到我的处境是绝望的，却假装不理解我。” 
“您错了，我十分了解您。您不愿意反抗维尔福先生；您不愿意让侯爵夫人伤心；明天您就要签订婚约，把自己交给您的丈夫。” 
“上帝啊！你告诉我，不然我又有什么办法可想呢？” 
“别来问我，小姐。这种事情叫我判断是很不公正的，我的自私心会使我变得盲目的。”莫雷尔回答，他那种沙哑的声音和攥紧的拳头证明他已愈来愈愤怒了。 
“如果我愿意接受你的建议，莫雷尔，那么你以为我应该怎么办呢？回答我。不要只对我说‘你错了’，你必须给我出个主意呀。” 
“你说这句话是很认真的吗，瓦朗蒂娜，你真的要我给你出主意？” 
“当然罗，亲爱的马西米兰，如果你的建议可行，我就照你说的做，你知道我对你的爱是始终不渝的。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，莫雷尔扳开了一块的门上一块松动的木板，说，“把你的手伸给我，证明你宽恕了我刚才发脾气。我的心里乱极了，在过去的一小时里各种失去理智的念头。在我的头脑里打转。如果你拒绝了我的建议” 
“你建议我怎么做呢？”瓦朗蒂娜抬起头来叹了一口气。 
“我是自由的，”马西米兰答道，“养得起你。我发誓在我吻你的额头以前使你成为我合法的妻子。” 
“你的话让我听了要发抖！”那个年轻姑娘说。 
“跟我走吧！”莫雷尔说，“我带你到我的妹妹那儿，她也配得上做你的妹妹。我们乘船到阿尔及利亚，到英国，到美国去，如你愿意的话，我们到乡下去住，等到我们的朋友们为我们说情，你家里人回心转意以后再回到巴黎来也可以。” 
瓦朗蒂娜摇摇头。“我怕，马西米兰，”她说，“这是个发疯的主意，如果我不断然阻止你，我就比你更疯了。不可能的，莫雷尔，不可能的！” 
“那么你愿意对命运之神屈服，甚至连反抗都不想了！”莫雷尔神情黯淡地说。 
“是的——哪怕我是因此死去！” 
“好吧，瓦朗蒂娜，”马西米兰说，“我再讲一遍，你说得对。是我疯了，而你向我证明了热情可以使最理智的头脑变得盲目。而你能够丝毫不受热情的影响而理智地思考，为这我谢谢你。那么事情就是这样定了明天，你就要无可挽回地接受弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，把你们连结在一起的不仅仅只签订婚约那种用来增加喜剧效力的演戏似的仪式，而是你自己的意愿，是不是？” 
“你又在把我向绝望的深渊里推，马西米兰，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“你又在用刀子剜我的心了！如果你的妹妹听从了这样的一个计划？告诉我，你会怎么办？” 
“小姐，”莫雷尔苦笑着说，“我是自私自利的，您已经这样说过的了。而作为一个自私自利的人，我不去想别人处在我的地位会怎么做，而只考虑我自己准备怎么做。我只想我和您认识已整整一年了。从我初次看见您的那天起，我就把我的一切快乐和希望都寄托在一种可能性上，希望我能赢得您的爱情。有一天，您承认您是受我的。从那一天起，我的希望就是有一天能拥有您，我把这看得比生命还重要。现在，我不再想了。我只是说，命运之神已转过身来攻击我。我以为可以赢得天堂，但我输了。这在一个赌徒这是平凡的日常事情，他不但可以把他所有的东西输掉，而且也可把他本来没有的东西输掉。” 
莫雷尔的态度十分平静。瓦朗蒂娜用她那一对敏锐的大眼睛望着他，竭力不让莫雷尔发现在她心里挣扎着的悲痛。 
“但是，一句话，你打算怎么办？”她问。 
“我打算问您告别了，小姐，上帝听到我说的话，明白我的心，我请他作证，证明我的确希望您过得宁静，快乐，充实，使您不会再有时间想到我。” 
“哦！”瓦朗蒂娜喃喃地说。 
“别了，瓦朗蒂娜，别了！”莫雷尔鞠了一躬说。 
“你到哪儿去？”那姑娘一面喊，一面从铁门的缺口里伸出手来，抓住马西米兰的衣服，根据自己的激动的情绪，她知道莫雷尔的平静态度不是真的——“你到哪儿去？” 
“我要去走一条路，避免再给您的家庭增加麻烦，我要给一切忠诚专一的男子作一个榜样，让他们知道当处于我这种境地的时候，应该怎样做。” 
“在你离开以前，告诉我你要去做什么，马西米兰。” 
“年轻人悲哀地笑了一下。 
“说呀！说呀！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我求求你。” 
“您的决定改变了吗，瓦朗蒂娜！” 
“那是不能改变的，不幸的人呵！你知道那是一定不能改变的！”姑娘喊道。 
“那么告别了，瓦朗蒂娜！” 
瓦朗蒂娜拼命摇那扇门，她想不到自己竟能有这样大的力气，而当莫雷尔转身要离开的时候，她把两只手都从缺口里伸出来，双手使劲地转动她的手臂。“我一定要知道你要去做什么？”她说。“你到哪儿去？” 
“哦，别担心！”马西米兰站在离铁门几步以外说，“这是我自己命运寒涩，我并不想叫别人为此来负责。要是换了别人，他或许会威胁你去找弗兰兹先生，向他挑衅，和他决斗，那都是丧失理智的行为。弗兰兹先生跟这件事毫无关系。今天早晨他第一次见
Chapter 74 The Villefort Family Vault
 TWO DAYS after, a considerable crowd was assembled, towards ten o'clock in the morning, around the door of M. de Villefort's house, and a long file of mourning-coaches and private carriages extended along the Faubourg Saint-Honoré and the Rue de la Pepiniere. Among them was one of a very singular form, which appeared to have come from a distance. It was a kind of covered wagon, painted black, and was one of the first to arrive. Inquiry was made, and it was ascertained that, by a strange coincidence, this carriage contained the corpse of the Marquis de Saint-Méran, and that those who had come thinking to attend one funeral would follow two. Their number was great. The Marquis de Saint-Méran, one of the most zealous and faithful dignitaries of Louis XVIII and King Charles X, had preserved a great number of friends, and these, added to the personages whom the usages of society gave Villefort a claim on, formed a considerable body. 
Due information was given to the authorities, and permission obtained that the two funerals should take place at the same time. A second hearse, decked with the same funereal pomp, was brought to M. de Villefort's door, and the coffin removed into it from the post-wagon. The two bodies were to be interred in the cemetery of Père-la-Chaise, where M. de Villefort had long since had a tomb prepared for the reception of his family. The remains of poor Renée were already deposited there, and now, after ten years of separation, her father and mother were to be reunited with her. The Parisians, always curious, always affected by funereal display, looked on with religious silence while the splendid procession accompanied to their last abode two of the number of the old aristocracy--the greatest protectors of commerce and sincere devotees to their principles. In one of the mourning-coaches Beauchamp, Debray, and Chateau-Renaud were talking of the very sudden death of the marchioness. "I saw Madame de Saint-Méran only last year at Marseilles, when I was coming back from Algiers," said Chateau-Renaud; "she looked like a woman destined to live to be a hundred years old, from her apparent sound health and great activity of mind and body. How old was she?" 
"Franz assured me," replied Albert, "that she was sixty-six years old. But she has not died of old age, but of grief; it appears that since the death of the marquis, which affected her very deeply, she has not completely recovered her reason." 
"But of what disease, then, did she die?" asked Debray. 
"It is said to have been a congestion of the brain, or apoplexy, which is the same thing, is it not?" 
"Nearly." 
"It is difficult to believe that it was apoplexy," said Beauchamp. "Madame de Saint-Méran, whom I once saw, was short, of slender form, and of a much more nervous than sanguine temperament; grief could hardly produce apoplexy in such a constitution as that of Madame de Saint-Méran." 
"At any rate," said Albert, "whatever disease or doctor may have killed her, M. de Villefort, or rather, Mademoiselle Valentine,--or, still rather, our friend Franz, inherits a magnificent fortune, amounting, I believe, to 80,000 livres per annum." 
"And this fortune will be doubled at the death of the old Jacobin, Noirtier." 
"That is a tenacious old grandfather," said Beauchamp. "Tenacem propositi virum. I think he must have made an agreement with death to outlive all his heirs, and he appears likely to succeed. He resembles the old Conventionalist of '93, who said to Napoleon, in 1814, 'You bend because your empire is a young stem, weakened by rapid growth. Take the Republic for a tutor; let us return with renewed strength to the battle-field, and I promise you 500,000 soldiers, another Marengo, and a second Austerlitz. Ideas do not become extinct, sire; they slumber sometimes, but only revive the stronger before they sleep entirely.' Ideas and men appeared the same to him. One thing only puzzles me, namely, how Franz d'Epinay will like a grandfather who cannot be separated from his wife. But where is Franz?" 
"In the first carriage, with M. de Villefort, who considers him already as one of the family." 
Such was the conversation in almost all the carriages; these two sudden deaths, so quickly following each other, astonished every one, but no one suspected the terrible secret which M. d'Avrigny had communicated, in his nocturnal walk to M. de Villefort. They arrived in about an hour at the cemetery; the weather was mild, but dull, and in harmony with the funeral ceremony. Among the groups which flocked towards the family vault, Chateau-Renaud recognized Morrel, who had come alone in a cabriolet, and walked silently along the path bordered with yew-trees. "You here?" said Chateau-Renaud, passing his arms through the young captain's; "are you a friend of Villefort's? How is it that I have never met you at his house?" 
"I am no acquaintance of M. de Villefort's." answered Morrel, "but I was of Madame de Saint-Méran." Albert came up to them at this moment with Franz. 
"The time and place are but ill-suited for an introduction." said Albert; "but we are not superstitious. M. Morrel, allow me to present to you M. Franz d'Epinay, a delightful travelling companion, with whom I made the tour of Italy. My dear Franz, M. Maximilian Morrel, an excellent friend I have acquired in your absence, and whose name you will hear me mention every time I make any allusion to affection, wit, or amiability." Morrel hesitated for a moment; he feared it would be hypocritical to accost in a friendly manner the man whom he was tacitly opposing, but his oath and the gravity of the circumstances recurred to his memory; he struggled to conceal his emotion and bowed to Franz. "Mademoiselle de Villefort is in deep sorrow, is she not?" said Debray to Franz. 
"Extremely," replied he; "she looked so pale this morning, I scarcely knew her." These apparently simple words pierced Morrel to the heart. This man had seen Valentine, and spoken to her! The young and high-spirited officer required all his strength of mind to resist breaking his oath. He took the arm of Chateau-Renaud, and turned towards the vault, where the attendants had already placed the two coffins. "This is a magnificent habitation," said Beauchamp, looking towards the mausoleum; "a summer and winter palace. You will, in turn, enter it, my dear d'Epinay, for you will soon be numbered as one of the family. I, as a philosopher, should like a little country-house, a cottage down there under the trees, without so many free-stones over my poor body. In dying, I will say to those around me what Voltaire wrote to Piron: 'Eo rus, and all will be over.' But come, Franz, take courage, your wife is an heiress." 
"Indeed, Beauchamp, you are unbearable. Politics has made you laugh at everything, and political men have made you disbelieve everything. But when you have the honor of associating with ordinary men, and the pleasure of leaving politics for a moment, try to find your affectionate heart, which you leave with your stick when you go to the Chamber." 
"But tell me," said Beauchamp, "what is life? Is it not a hall in Death's anteroom?" 
"I am prejudiced against Beauchamp," said Albert, drawing Franz away, and leaving the former to finish his philosophical dissertation with Debray. The Villefort vault formed a square of white stones, about twenty feet high; an interior partition separated the two families, and each apartment had its entrance door. Here were not, as in other tombs, ignoble drawers, one above another, where thrift bestows its dead and labels them like specimens in a museum; all that was visible within the bronze gates was a gloomy-looking room, separated by a wall from the vault itself. The two doors before mentioned were in the middle of this wall, and enclosed the Villefort and Saint-Méran coffins. There grief might freely expend itself without being disturbed by the trifling loungers who came from a picnic party to visit Père-la-Chaise, or by lovers who make it their rendezvous. 
The two coffins were placed on trestles previously prepared for their reception in the right-hand crypt belonging to the Saint-Méran family. Villefort, Franz, and a few near relatives alone entered the sanctuary. 
As the religious ceremonies had all been performed at the door, and there was no address given, the party all separated; Chateau-Renaud, Albert, and Morrel, went one way, and Debray and Beauchamp the other. Franz remained with M. de Villefort; at the gate of the cemetery Morrel made an excuse to wait; he saw Franz and M. de Villefort get into the same mourning coach, and thought this meeting forboded evil. He then returned to Paris, and although in the same carriage with Chateau-Renaud and Albert, he did not hear one word of their conversation. As Franz was about to take leave of M. de Villefort, "When shall I see you again?" said the latter. 
"At what time you please, sir," replied Franz. 
"As soon as possible." 
"I am at your command, sir; shall we return together?" 
"If not unpleasant to you." 
"On the contrary, I shall feel much pleasure." Thus, the future father and son-in-law stepped into the same carriage, and Morrel, seeing them pass, became uneasy. Villefort and Franz returned to the Faubourg Saint-Honoré. The procureur, without going to see either his wife or his daughter, went at once to his study, and, offering the young man a chair,--"M. d'Epinay," said he, "allow me to remind you at this moment,--which is perhaps not so ill-chosen as at first sight may appear, for obedience to the wishes of the departed is the first offering which should be made at their tomb,--allow me then to remind you of the wish expressed by Madame de Saint-Méran on her death-bed, that Valentine's wedding might not be deferred. You know the affairs of the deceased are in perfect order, and her will bequeaths to Valentine the entire property of the Saint-Méran family; the notary showed me the documents yesterday, which will enable us to draw up the contract immediately. You may call on the notary, M. Deschamps, Place Beauveau, Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and you have my authority to inspect those deeds." 
"Sir," replied M. d'Epinay, "it is not, perhaps, the moment for Mademoiselle Valentine, who is in deep distress, to think of a husband; indeed, I fear"-- 
"Valentine will have no greater pleasure than that of fulfilling her grandmother's last injunctions; there will be no obstacle from that quarter, I assure you." 
"In that case," replied Franz, "as I shall raise none, you may make arrangements when you please; I have pledged my word, and shall feel pleasure and happiness in adhering to it." 
"Then," said Villefort, "nothing further is required. The contract was to have been signed three days since; we shall find it all ready, and can sign it to-day." 
"But the mourning?" said Franz, hesitating. 
"Don't be uneasy on that score," replied Villefort; "no ceremony will be neglected in my house. Mademoiselle de Villefort may retire during the prescribed three months to her estate of Saint-Méran; I say hers, for she inherits it to-day. There, after a few days, if you like, the civil marriage shall be celebrated without pomp or ceremony. Madame de Saint-Méran wished her daughter should be married there. When that in over, you, sir, can return to Paris, while your wife passes the time of her mourning with her mother-in-law." 
"As you please, sir," said Franz. 
"Then," replied M. de Villefort, "have the kindness to wait half an hour; Valentine shall come down into the drawing-room. I will send for M. Deschamps; we will read and sign the contract before we separate, and this evening Madame de Villefort; shall accompany Valentine to her estate, where we will rejoin them in a week." 
"Sir," said Franz, "I have one request to make." 
"What is it?" 
"I wish Albert de Morcerf and Raoul de Chateau-Renaud to be present at this signature; you know they are my witnesses." 
"Half an hour will suffice to apprise them; will you go for them yourself, or shall you send?" 
"I prefer going, sir." 
"I shall expect you, then, in half an hour, baron, and Valentine will be ready." Franz bowed and left the room. Scarcely had the door closed, when M. de Villefort sent to tell Valentine to be ready in the drawing-room in half an hour, as he expected the notary and M. d'Epinay and his witnesses. The news caused a great sensation throughout the house; Madame de Villefort would not believe it, and Valentine was thunderstruck. She looked around for help, and would have gone down to her grandfather's room, but on the stairs she met M. de Villefort, who took her arm and led her into the drawing-room. In the anteroom, Valentine met Barrois, and looked despairingly at the old servant. A moment later, Madame de Villefort entered the drawing-room with her little Edward. It was evident that she had shared the grief of the family, for she was pale and looked fatigued. She sat down, took Edward on her knees, and from time to time pressed this child, on whom her affections appeared centred, almost convulsively to her bosom. Two carriages were soon heard to enter the court yard. One was the notary's; the other, that of Franz and his friends. In a moment the whole party was assembled. Valentine was so pale one might trace the blue veins from her temples, round her eyes and down her cheeks. Franz was deeply affected. Chateau-Renaud and Albert looked at each other with amazement; the ceremony which was just concluded had not appeared more sorrowful than did that which was about to begin. Madame de Villefort had placed herself in the shadow behind a velvet curtain, and as she constantly bent over her child, it was difficult to read the expression of her face. M. de Villefort was, as usual, unmoved. 
The notary, after having according to the customary method arranged the papers on the table, taken his place in an armchair, and raised his spectacles, turned towards Franz: 
"Are you M. Franz de Quesnel, baron d'Epinay?" asked he, although he knew it perfectly. 
"Yes, sir," replied Franz. The notary bowed. "I have, then, to inform you, sir, at the request of M. de Villefort, that your projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Villefort has changed the feeling of M. Noirtier towards his grandchild, and that he disinherits her entirely of the fortune he would have left her. Let me hasten to add," continued he, "that the testator, having only the right to alienate a part of his fortune, and having alienated it all, the will will not bear scrutiny, and is declared null and void." 
"Yes." said Villefort; "but I warn M. d'Epinay, that during my life-time my father's will shall never be questioned, my position forbidding any doubt to be entertained." 
"Sir," said Franz, "I regret much that such a question has been raised in the presence of Mademoiselle Valentine; I have never inquired the amount of her fortune, which, however limited it may be, exceeds mine. My family has sought consideration in this alliance with M. de Villefort; all I seek is happiness." Valentine imperceptibly thanked him, while two silent tears rolled down her cheeks. "Besides, sir," said Villefort, addressing himself to his future son-in-law, "excepting the loss of a portion of your hopes, this unexpected will need not personally wound you; M. Noirtier's weakness of mind sufficiently explains it. It is not because Mademoiselle Valentine is going to marry you that he is angry, but because she will marry, a union with any other would have caused him the same sorrow. Old age is selfish, sir, and Mademoiselle de Villefort has been a faithful companion to M. Noirtier, which she cannot be when she becomes the Baroness d'Epinay. My father's melancholy state prevents our speaking to him on any subjects, which the weakness of his mind would incapacitate him from understanding, and I am perfectly convinced that at the present time, although, he knows that his granddaughter is going to be married, M. Noirtier has even forgotten the name of his intended grandson." M. de Villefort had scarcely said this, when the door opened, and Barrois appeared. 
"Gentlemen," said he, in a tone strangely firm for a servant speaking to his masters under such solemn circumstances,--"gentlemen, M. Noirtier de Villefort wishes to speak immediately to M. Franz de Quesnel, baron d'Epinay;" he, as well as the notary, that there might be no mistake in the person, gave all his titles to the bride-groom elect. 
Villefort started, Madame de Villefort let her son slip from her knees, Valentine rose, pale and dumb as a statue. Albert and Chateau-Renaud exchanged a second look, more full of amazement than the first. The notary looked at Villefort. "It is impossible," said the procureur. "M. d'Epinay cannot leave the drawing-room at present." 
"It is at this moment," replied Barrois with the same firmness, "that M. Noirtier, my master, wishes to speak on important subjects to M. Franz d'Epinay." 
"Grandpapa Noirtier can speak now, then," said Edward, with his habitual quickness. However, his remark did not make Madame de Villefort even smile, so much was every mind engaged, and so solemn was the situation. Astonishment was at its height. Something like a smile was perceptible on Madame de Villefort's countenance. Valentine instinctively raised her eyes, as if to thank heaven. 
"Pray go, Valentine," said; M. de Villefort, "and see what this new fancy of your grandfather's is." Valentine rose quickly, and was hastening joyfully towards the door, when M. de Villefort altered his intention. 
"Stop," said he; "I will go with you." 
"Excuse me, sir," said Franz, "since M. Noirtier sent for me, I am ready to attend to his wish; besides, I shall be happy to pay my respects to him, not having yet had the honor of doing so." 
"Pray, sir," said Villefort with marked uneasiness, "do not disturb yourself." 
"Forgive me, sir," said Franz in a resolute tone. "I would not lose this opportunity of proving to M. Noirtier how wrong it would be of him to encourage feelings of dislike to me, which I am determined to conquer, whatever they may be, by my devotion." And without listening to Villefort he arose, and followed Valentine, who was running down-stairs with the joy of a shipwrecked mariner who finds a rock to cling to. M. de Villefort followed them. Chateau-Renaud and Morcerf exchanged a third look of still increasing wonder.  
两天以后，早晨十点钟的光景，维尔福先生的门前聚集着很大的一群人。一长列丧车和私家马车从圣·奥诺路一直伸展到庇比尼路。在诸多马车里，有一辆车子的样式非常古怪，看来象是从外地来的。那是一种带蓬的大车，车身是黑色的，是最先来参加送葬的车子之一。有人问这是怎么一回事。据打听的结果，原来真是巧合得出奇：圣·梅朗侯爵的遗体就在这辆车子里，人们最初以为只来为一个人送丧，现在却要跟在两具尸体后面走了。圣·梅朗侯爵是国王路易十八和查理王十世最忠实的大臣之一，他的朋友很多；这些，再加上应维尔福的社会声望而来的一批人，就成了很大的一群。 
当局得到通知，准许两件丧事同时举行，第二辆柩车装饰得极其华丽，车一驶到维尔福先生门口，里面的那口棺材就搬进那辆柩车里。维尔福先生早就在拉雪兹神父墓地选好了家墓，准备安葬他的家属，这两具遗体就葬在那儿。可怜的蕾妮早已等在那儿，十年的分别以后，现在她又可以和她的父母相聚在一起了。巴黎人永远是好奇的，看见大出丧老是很爱激动，他们带着宗教的虔敬，目送着那壮观的行列陪伴着这两个老贵族到他们最后的安息地去。两个以最忠实可靠、最坚守传统习惯和信仰最坚定著称的老贵族。在一辆丧车里，波尚、阿尔贝和夏多·勒诺在谈论侯爵夫人的猝死。 
“去年我还在马赛见过圣·梅朗夫人，”夏多·勒诺说，“我还以为她可以活到一百岁呢，因为她身体极好，头脑很活跃，身子骨也很棒，她有多大年龄了？” 
“弗兰兹告诉我，”阿尔贝答道，“她有七十岁了。她不是死于年老衰弱而是愁死的，侯爵的死她非常悲痛，自从侯爵死后，她的理智似乎始终没有完全恢复过。” 
“但她是生什么病死的呢？”波尚问道。 
“据说是脑充血，也许是中风，那两种病症差不多的，是不是？” 
“差不多。” 
“中风是不大可能，”波尚说，“我曾见过圣·梅朗夫人一两次，身材很矮很瘦，是一个神经质而不是多血质的人。象圣·梅朗夫人这样的体质，不可能因悲哀过度而中风的。” 
“总而言之，”阿尔贝说，“不论杀死她的是疾病还是医生，维尔福先生，说得确切些，我们的朋友弗兰兹，是要继承一笔很可观的遗产，我相信他因此每年可以增加八万里弗的收入。” 
“等到那个老雅各宾党徒诺瓦蒂埃去世的时候，他的财产还可以再加一倍。” 
“那真是一个意志顽强的老爷爷，”波尚说——“就象贺拉斯说的‘意志坚强的人’。我想，他一定和死神有协定，要看到所有的子女落葬。他很象一七九三年的那个老国民议会议员，这人在一八一四年对拿破仑说：‘您之所以失败，是因为您的帝国一是棵年轻的花草，由于生长得太快，所以茎子特别脆弱。请把共和国作为一个支柱，让我们养好了气力再回到战场上去，我保证您可以拥有五十万军队，再来一次马伦戈大捷和第二次的奥斯特利茨战役。观念是会绝灭的，陛下，它们有时会打一个嗑睡，但在完全睡醒以后，比睡着以前更强劲有力。” 
“在他看来，”阿尔贝说，“观念和人似乎是一样的东西。有一件事情我不理解——弗兰兹·伊皮奈怎么能守着一位不能和他的妻子分离的太岳父？日子可怎么过？但弗兰兹在哪儿？” 
“在最前面的那辆车子里，跟维尔福先生在一起，维尔福先生已经把他当作家庭的一员了。” 
在所有的车子里，人们的谈话几乎都是一样的。这两个人死得这样突然，而且这样迅速地接连到来，所以每一个人都很奇怪，但谁都没有怀疑过什么，阿夫里尼先生在黑夜里告诉维尔福先生的那种可怕的秘密，更没有人想过，大约一小时他们到达了坟场。天气温和而晦暗，很适宜于举行葬礼。 
在那一群向家墓拥过去的人堆里，夏多·勒诺认出了莫雷尔，他是独自乘着一辆轻便马车来的。他的脸色很苍白，正在无言地沿着那条两旁水松夹持的小径走着，“你在这儿！”夏多·勒诺挽住那青年上尉的胳膊说。“你是维尔福的朋友吗？我怎么从来没有在他的家里碰到过你呢？” 
“我并不认识维尔福先生，”莫雷尔答道，“但我认识圣·梅朗夫人。” 
这时，阿尔贝和弗兰兹上来了。“时间和地点实在并不适宜于作介绍，”阿尔贝说，“但我们不是迷信的人。莫雷尔先生，允许我给您介绍弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生。他是一位有趣的旅伴，我曾和他一同周游过意大利。我亲爱的弗兰兹，这位是马西米兰·莫雷尔先生。当我不认识你的时候，我们就是好朋友了，很快你就会知道，凡是我要说到友爱、机智、和蔼的时候，都会提及他的名字。” 
莫雷尔犹豫了一会儿。对方是他暗中的仇敌，如果他用热情的态度向他招呼，这未免太虚伪了；但他又想起他的诺言和眼前的形势，他勉强掩饰住他的情绪，向弗兰兹鞠了一躬。 
“维尔福小姐很悲伤吧，是不是？”德布雷问弗兰兹说。 
“悲伤极了，”他答道，“今天早晨她的脸色非常的苍白，我简直认不出她了。” 
这几句表面上很简单的话刺痛了莫雷尔的心。那么这个人见过瓦朗蒂娜，而且还和她说过话！这位高傲的年轻军官用了他的全部意志力才阻止了破坏自己的诺言。他挽起夏多·勒诺的胳膊向坟墓走去，送丧的人已经把那两具棺材抬进墓室里面去了。 
“这个‘住处’很富丽堂皇，”波尚望着那座大坟说，“这是一座冬夏兼宜的宫殿。将来，到适当的时候，你也是要进去的，我亲爱的伊皮奈，因为你不久就要成为那个家庭的一员了。而我，象一个哲学家，喜欢有一间小小的乡下房子，在那些树底下盖一间茅庐，我不愿意在我自己的身体上面压上这么许多大石头。临死的时候，我要把伏尔泰写给庇隆［庇隆（一六八九—一七七三），法国诗人和剧作家。——译注］的那句话，‘到乡下去吧，一了百了。’说给我周围的人听。不过别去考虑这些，弗兰兹，横竖继承财产的是你的太太。” 
“波尚，”弗兰兹说，“你这个人真叫人受不了。政治使你对一切都采取嘲笑的态度，而操纵这些事务的人都有什么都不相信的习惯。当你有幸和普通人在一起，并且有幸能暂时离开政治的时候，设法去找回你那颗友爱的心吧，你在到众议院或贵族院去的时候，大概把它和你的手杖一同丢什么地方了。” 
“哦！我的上帝！”波尚说，“生命是什么？是在通向死神的候见室里短暂的停留。” 
“我讨厌波尚。”阿尔贝说，说着就拉着弗兰兹走开了，让波尚去和德布雷讲完他那篇看破红尘的议论。 
维尔福的家墓由白色的大理石筑成，是一座正方形的建筑物，高约二十呎，内部是隔开的，分别属于圣·梅朗和维尔福两个家庭，每一间都有一扇门同外面相通。有些人家的坟墓象是那种下等的五斗柜，墓穴象抽屉似的堆叠着。每一隔墓穴的前面刻上几行字，活象是一张铭牌。但维尔福的家墓却不然，从那青铜的墓门里望进去，先看见一间肃穆的前厅，墓室和前庭之间还隔了一堵墙，一扇门通入维尔福家的墓穴，一扇门通圣·梅朗家的墓穴。在那里面，他们可以尽情宣泄悲哀，即使有无聊的游客到拉雪兹神父墓地来举行野餐，即使情人们来这儿幽会，也不会打扰他们。 
两具棺材抬进了右边的墓室，放在事先准备好的抬架上，只有维尔福、弗兰兹和少数几个近亲进入那个墓穴。 
宗教的仪式都已在墓前举行，而且也没有举行什么演讲，所以送葬的人群很快就散了开；夏多·勒诺、阿尔贝和莫雷尔走一条路，德布雷和波尚走另外一条路。弗兰兹和维尔福先生在坟场门口等着莫雷尔借口逗留了一会儿，他看到弗兰兹和维尔福先生一同走进一辆马车，心里就觉得他们将进行一场密谈对他来说这是一个不祥的预兆。在回巴黎去的道路上而虽然与夏多·勒诺和阿尔贝同坐在一车马车里，但他们一路谈了些什么他却不知道。 
当弗兰兹快向维尔福先生告辞的时候，维尔福说：“我什么时候可以再见到您？” 
“随便您什么时候都可以，阁下。”弗兰兹回答。 
“愈早愈好。” 
“我悉听您吩咐，阁下。我们一起回去好吗？” 
“如果那不会扰乱您的计划的话。” 
“绝对不会。” 
于是这一对未来的翁婿就跨进同一辆马车，莫雷尔看着他们经过，心里非常烦燥、这种烦躁是有理由的。维尔福和弗兰兹回到圣·奥诺路。检察官不去看他的妻子和女儿，急急地走进他的书房，让年轻人坐在椅子上。“伊皮奈先生，”他说，“允许我提醒你，虽然乍一看也许会觉得现在这个时间选择得非常不合适，但我们是应该服从死者的旨意。圣·梅朗夫人在她的灵床上所表示的旨意，就是，瓦朗蒂娜的婚事不要耽搁。您知道，死者的一切事务都已办理得井井有条，在她的遗嘱里，她把圣·梅朗家的全部财产都留给了瓦朗蒂娜；律师昨天把那些文件给我看过了，我们可以凭此详详细细地草拟婚约。公证人就是圣·奥诺路波伏广场的狄思康先生。” 
“阁下，”伊皮奈先生答道，“瓦朗蒂娜小姐现在正非常悲痛，也许她还没有想到出嫁的事情，真的，我担心——” 
“瓦朗蒂娜最愉快的事情，”维尔福先生插进来说，“莫过于完成她外婆的遗训，那方面不会有什么阻碍，我向您保证。” 
“既然如此，”弗兰兹答道，“我这一方面也不会有什么阻碍，时间尽可以随您安排，这件事情我已经答应过，我很高兴能履行我自己的诺言。” 
“那么，”维尔福说，“一切都准备好了，婚约本来在三天以前就可以签订。不用再等了，我们今天就可以签订婚约。 
“但现在是在服丧期呀！”弗兰兹迟疑地说。 
“请放心，”维尔福回答。“舍下对于礼制决不会疏忽。在那三个月服丧期里，维尔福小姐可以到圣·梅朗去，住在她的庄园里，我说‘她的庄园’，因为那处产业已经属于她了。 
在一个星期之内，如果您愿意的话，就可以在那儿成婚，我们不铺张，也不请客。圣·梅朗夫人希望她的外孙女儿在那里结婚。婚礼完毕以后，阁下，您就可以回到巴黎来，而您的妻子则由她的继母陪她一同度过她的服丧期。” 
“就按您的意见吧，阁下。”弗兰兹说。 
“那么，”维尔福先生答道，“请稍候，半小时以后，瓦朗蒂娜就可以到客厅里来。我派人去请狄思康先生，我们在分手以前先把婚约读一遍，签字以后，今天晚上维尔福夫人就陪瓦朗蒂娜到她的庄园去，我们在一星期之内去那儿，给你们完婚。” 
“阁下，”弗兰兹说，“我有一点请求。” 
“什么请求？” 
“我希望阿尔贝·马尔塞夫和莱罗尔·夏多·勒诺能参加这次的签约仪式，您知道他们是我的证人。” 
“半个钟头的时间已尽够通知他们了，您亲自去找他们还是派人去？” 
“我愿意自己走一趟，阁下。” 
“那么我希望您在半小时内回来，男爵，瓦朗蒂娜那时也可以准备好了。” 
弗兰兹鞠了一躬，走了出去。房门刚关上，维尔福先生就派人去叫瓦朗蒂娜，要她在半小时内到客厅去，他希望公证人、伊皮奈先生和他的证人也能在那个时间以内赶到。这个消息顿时轰动了全家，维尔福夫人不肯相信，瓦朗蒂娜犹如遭了雷击，她回下张望寻找救兵。她本来想下楼去找她的祖父，但她在楼梯上遇到维尔福先生，维尔福挽住她的胳膊，把领她到客厅里去。在候见室里，瓦朗蒂娜遇到巴罗斯，她绝望地望着那个老仆人。一会儿，维尔福夫人带着小爱德华进客厅来了。她显然也分尝了家庭的悲哀，她的脸色苍白，看上去很疲倦。她坐下来，把爱德华抱在膝头上，不时痉挛地把这个孩子紧抱在她的胸前，似乎她的整个生命都已集中在儿子身上了。不久，他们听到有两辆马车驶进前庭。一辆是公证人的，一辆则载着弗兰兹和他的朋友。这会儿，人都到齐了，瓦朗蒂娜的脸色苍白，浅蓝色太阳穴上的青筋隐约可见，不仅环绕了她的眼圈，而且延伸到了她的脸颊，弗兰兹也深深被感动了。夏多·勒诺和阿尔贝互相惊愕地望着对方；刚才结束的葬礼似乎并不比快要开始的这一场更凄惨。维尔福夫人坐在一幅天鹅绒帷幕的阴影里，而且因为她一直俯身朝向坐在膝上的孩子，所以从她脸上的表情很难看她在想什么。维尔福先生跟平常一样，毫不动容。 
公证人按照惯例，把文件摆在桌子上，在一张圈椅里坐下来，举起他的单眼镜，转向弗兰兹。“您是不是弗兰兹·奎斯奈尔先生，伊皮奈男爵？”他问道，尽管他知道而且知道得十分清楚。 
“是的，阁下。”弗兰兹回答。 
公证人欠了欠身。“那么，阁下，我应维尔福先生的请求，得通知您一声：您和维尔福小姐的婚事，改变了诺瓦蒂埃先生对他孙女儿的情感，已把他本来预备遗赠给她的财产进行了让与。但我有必要补充，现在既已全部赠让，所以那份遗嘱在法律上可以宣判无效。” 
“是的，”维尔福说，“但我要提醒伊皮奈先生，在我在世的期间，家父的遗嘱是不能更改。因为我的地位绝对不容许招惹一丝谗谤。” 
“阁下，”弗兰兹说，“这样的一个问题竟当着瓦朗蒂娜小姐的面提出，我深表遗憾，我从来没有问过她的财产数目，而且不论她的财产多少，总要比我的多。我以能和维尔福先生联姻为幸，我所寻求的只是幸福。” 
瓦朗蒂娜暗地里很感谢他，两滴眼泪无声地滚下她的脸颊。 
“而且，阁下，”维尔福对他的未来女婿说，“您除了在这方面受了一部分损失以外，这一份出人意料的遗嘱对您个人并没什么恶意，这完全是诺瓦蒂埃先生脑力不济的缘故。他所不高兴的，并不是因为瓦朗蒂娜小姐要嫁给您，而是因为她要嫁人，不论她嫁给哪一个人，他都会同样伤心的。老年人是自私的，阁下，维尔福小姐一向是诺瓦蒂埃先生忠实的侣伴，当她成为伊皮奈男爵夫人的时候，就不能再时时陪他了。家父的处境很不幸，由于他的脑力不济，理解力贫乏，所以许多事情我们无法和他谈，我确信在目前这个时候，虽然诺瓦蒂埃先生知道他的孙女快要结婚，但她一定把他未来孙女婿的名字都忘记了。” 
维尔福先生说完这篇话，弗兰兹鞠了一躬，但他的话还没有出口，房门忽然打开，巴罗斯出现了。“诸位，”他说，他的语气异常坚决，在这种情况下，他不象是一个仆人在对他的主人说话——“诸位，诺瓦蒂埃先生希望立刻和弗兰兹·奎斯奈尔先生、伊皮奈男爵谈一次话。”他也象公证人一样，为避免找错了人，把入选的新郎的全部头衔都背了出来。 
维尔福吃了一惊，维尔福夫人让她的儿子从他的膝头上溜下来。瓦朗蒂娜站起身来，脸色苍白，哑口无言，象是一尊石像。阿尔贝和夏多·勒诺互相对望着，比第一次更惊愕。 
公证人也呆望着维尔福。 
“这是不可能的，”检察官说，“这个时候伊皮奈男爵不能离开客厅。” 
“我的主人诺瓦蒂埃先生就是在这个时候希望和弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生谈一件重要的事情。”巴罗斯用同样坚决的语气回答。 
“那么，诺瓦蒂埃爷爷现在能够讲话啦。”爱德华说，还是象往常那样肆无忌惮。可是，就连维尔福夫人听到他这句话都没有笑一下，每一个人的脑子里都杂乱无章，客厅里的气氛变得异常严肃。 
“对诺瓦蒂埃先生说，”维尔福说，“他的要求无法满足。” 
“那么诺瓦蒂埃先生向这几位先生宣布，”巴罗斯说，“他要叫人抬他到客厅里来。” 
大家惊讶到了极点。维尔福夫人的脸上露出一丝难以觉察的微笑。瓦朗蒂娜本能地抬起头来，看着天花板，心里在感谢上帝。 
“你去看一看，瓦朗蒂娜，”维尔福先生说，“去看看你的祖父这次又有什么新花样。”瓦朗蒂娜急忙向门口走去。但维尔福先生忽然又改变主意。 
“等一下！”他说，“我和你一起去。” 
“原谅我，阁下，”弗兰兹说，“据我看，既然诺瓦蒂埃先生派人来找我，就应该由我满足他的要求。而且，我还没有拜见过他，我很高兴能向他表达我的敬意。” 
“阁下，”维尔福说，态度显然很不安，“请不必劳驾。” 
“宽恕我，阁下，”弗兰兹用一种坚决的口气说。“我很想向诺瓦蒂埃先生证明，他对我的反感是大错特错的，而且不论他对我的成见有多深，我决心要用我恳挚的情意来打消它，所以我不愿意丧失这个解释的机会。”他不理会维尔福的话，站起来跟着瓦朗蒂娜走了出去；瓦朗蒂娜飞也似地跑下楼梯，高兴得象一个落海的水手发现了一块可以攀附的岩石一样。 
维尔福先生跟在他们的后面。夏多·勒诺和马尔塞夫又一次交换眼光，愈来愈感到莫名其妙了。 
Chapter 75 A Signed Statement
 NOIRTIER was prepared to receive them, dressed in black, and installed in his arm-chair. When the three persons he expected had entered, he looked at the door, which his valet immediately closed. 
"Listen," whispered Villefort to Valentine, who could not conceal her joy; "if M. Noirtier wishes to communicate anything which would delay your marriage, I forbid you to understand him." Valentine blushed, but did not answer. Villefort, approaching Noirtier--"Here is M. Franz d'Epinay," said he; "you requested to see him. We have all wished for this interview, and I trust it will convince you how ill-formed are your objections to Valentine's marriage." 
Noirtier answered only by a look which made Villefort's blood run cold. He motioned to Valentine to approach. In a moment, thanks to her habit of conversing with her grandfather, she understood that he asked for a key. Then his eye was fixed on the drawer of a small chest between the windows. She opened the drawer, and found a key; and, understanding that was what he wanted, again watched his eyes, which turned toward an old secretary which had been neglected for many years and was supposed to contain nothing but useless documents. "Shall I open the secretary?" asked Valentine. 
"Yes," said the old man. 
"And the drawers?" 
"Yes." 
"Those at the side?" 
"No." 
"The middle one?" 
"Yes." Valentine opened it and drew out a bundle of papers. "Is that what you wish for?" asked she. 
"No." 
She took successively all the other papers out till the drawer was empty. "But there are no more," said she. Noirtier's eye was fixed on the dictionary. "Yes, I understand, grandfather," said the young girl. 
"He pointed to each letter of the alphabet. At the letter S the old man stopped her. She opened, and found the word "secret." 
"Ah, is there a secret spring?" said Valentine. 
"Yes," said Noirtier. 
"And who knows it?" Noirtier looked at the door where the servant had gone out. "Barrois?" said she. 
"Yes." "Shall I call him?" 
"Yes." 
Valentine went to the door, and called Barrois. Villefort's impatience during this scene made the perspiration roll from his forehead, and Franz was stupefied. The old servant came. "Barrois," said Valentine, "my grandfather has told me to open that drawer in the secretary, but there is a secret spring in it, which you know--will you open it?" 
Barrois looked at the old man. "Obey," said Noirtier's intelligent eye. Barrois touched a spring, the false bottom came out, and they saw a bundle of papers tied with a black string. 
"Is that what you wish for?" said Barrois. 
"Yes." 
"Shall I give these papers to M. de Villefort?" 
"No." 
"To Mademoiselle Valentine?" 
"No." 
"To M. Franz d'Epinay?" 
"Yes." 
Franz, astonished, advanced a step. "To me, sir?" said he. 
"Yes." Franz took them from Barrois and casting a glance at the cover, read:-- 
"'To be given, after my death, to General Durand, who shall bequeath the packet to his son, with an injunction to preserve it as containing an important document.' 
"Well, sir," asked Franz, "what do you wish me to do with this paper?" 
"To preserve it, sealed up as it is, doubtless," said the procureur. 
"No," replied Noirtier eagerly. 
"Do you wish him to read it?" said Valentine. 
"Yes," replied the old man. "You understand, baron, my grandfather wishes you to read this paper," said Valentine. 
"Then let us sit down," said Villefort impatiently, "for it will take some time." 
"Sit down," said the old man. Villefort took a chair, but Valentine remained standing by her father's side, and Franz before him, holding the mysterious paper in his hand. "Read," said the old man. Franz untied it, and in the midst of the most profound silence read: 
"'Extract from the Report of a meeting of the Bonapartist Club in the Rue Saint-Jacques, held February 5th, 1815.'" 
Franz stopped. "February 5th, 1815!" said he; "it is the day my father was murdered." Valentine and Villefort were dumb; the eye of the old man alone seemed to say clearly, "Go on." 
"But it was on leaving this club," said he, "my father disappeared." Noirtier's eye continued to say, "Read." He resumed:-- 
"'The undersigned Louis Jacques Beaurepaire, lieutenant-colonel of artillery, Etienne Duchampy, general of brigade, and Claude Lecharpal, keeper of woods and forests, Declare, that on the 4th of February, a letter arrived from the Island of Elba, recommending to the kindness and the confidence of the Bonapartist Club, General Flavien de Quesnel, who having served the emperor from 1804 to 1814 was supposed to be devoted to the interests of the Napoleon dynasty, notwithstanding the title of baron which Louis XVIII had just granted to him with his estate of Epinay. 
"'A note was in consequence addressed to General de Quesnel, begging him to be present at the meeting next day, the 5th. The note indicated neither the street nor the number of the house where the meeting was to be held; it bore no signature, but it announced to the general that some one would call for him if he would be ready at nine o'clock. The meetings were always held from that time till midnight. At nine o'clock the president of the club presented himself; the general was ready, the president informed him that one of the conditions of his introduction was that he should be eternally ignorant of the place of meeting, and that he would allow his eyes to be bandaged, swearing that he would not endeavor to take off the bandage. General de Quesnel accepted the condition, and promised on his honor not to seek to discover the road they took. The general's carriage was ready, but the president told him it was impossible for him to use it, since it was useless to blindfold the master if the coachman knew through what streets he went. "What must be done then?" asked the general.--"I have my carriage here," said the president. 
"'"Have you, then, so much confidence in your servant that you can intrust him with a secret you will not allow me to know?" 
"'"Our coachman is a member of the club," said the president; "we shall be driven by a State-Councillor." 
"'"Then we run another risk," said the general, laughing, "that of being upset." We insert this joke to prove that the general was not in the least compelled to attend the meeting, but that he came willingly. When they were seated in the carriage the president reminded the general of his promise to allow his eyes to be bandaged, to which he made no opposition. On the road the president thought he saw the general make an attempt to remove the handkerchief, and reminded him of his oath. "Sure enough," said the general. The carriage stopped at an alley leading out of the Rue Saint-Jacques. The general alighted, leaning on the arm of the president, of whose dignity he was not aware, considering him simply as a member of the club; they went through the alley, mounted a flight of stairs, and entered the assembly-room. 
"'"The deliberations had already begun. The members, apprised of the sort of presentation which was to be made that evening, were all in attendance. When in the middle of the room the general was invited to remove his bandage, he did so immediately, and was surprised to see so many well-known faces in a society of whose existence he had till then been ignorant. They questioned him as to his sentiments, but he contented himself with answering, that the letters from the Island of Elba ought to have informed them'"-- 
Franz interrupted himself by saying, "My father was a royalist; they need not have asked his sentiments, which were well known." 
"And hence," said Villefort, "arose my affection for your father, my dear M. Franz. Opinions held in common are a ready bond of union." 
"Read again," said the old man. Franz continued:-- 
"'The president then sought to make him speak more explicitly, but M. de Quesnel replied that he wished first to know what they wanted with him. He was then informed of the contents of the letter from the Island of Elba, in which he was recommended to the club as a man who would be likely to advance the interests of their party. One paragraph spoke of the return of Bonaparte and promised another letter and further details, on the arrival of the Pharaon belonging to the shipbuilder Morrel, of Marseilles, whose captain was entirely devoted to the emperor. During all this time, the general, on whom they thought to have relied as on a brother, manifested evidently signs of discontent and repugnance. When the reading was finished, he remained silent, with knitted brows. 
"'"Well," asked the president, "what do you say to this letter, general?" 
"'"I say that it is too soon after declaring myself for Louis XVIII to break my vow in behalf of the ex-emperor." This answer was too clear to permit of any mistake as to his sentiments. "General," said the president, "we acknowledge no King Louis XVIII, or an ex-emperor, but his majesty the emperor and king, driven from France, which is his kingdom, by violence and treason." 
"'"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the general; "you may not acknowledge Louis XVIII, but I do, as he has made me a baron and a field-marshal, and I shall never forget that for these two titles I am indebted to his happy return to France." 
"'"Sir," said the president, rising with gravity, "be careful what you say; your words clearly show us that they are deceived concerning you in the Island of Elba, and have deceived us! The communication has been made to you in consequence of the confidence placed in you, and which does you honor. Now we discover our error; a title and promotion attach you to the government we wish to overturn. We will not constrain you to help us; we enroll no one against his conscience, but we will compel you to act generously, even if you are not disposed to do so." 
"'"You would call acting generously, knowing your conspiracy and not informing against you, that is what I should call becoming your accomplice. You see I am more candid than you."'" 
"Ah, my father!" said Franz, interrupting himself. "I understand now why they murdered him." Valentine could not help casting one glance towards the young man, whose filial enthusiasm it was delightful to behold. Villefort walked to and fro behind them. Noirtier watched the expression of each one, and preserved his dignified and commanding attitude. Franz returned to the manuscript, and continued:-- 
"'"Sir," said the president, "you have been invited to join this assembly--you were not forced here; it was proposed to you to come blindfolded--you accepted. When you complied with this twofold request you well knew we did not wish to secure the throne of Louis XVIII, or we should not take so much care to avoid the vigilance of the police. It would be conceding too much to allow you to put on a mask to aid you in the discovery of our secret, and then to remove it that you may ruin those who have confided in you. No, no, you must first say if you declare yourself for the king of a day who now reigns, or for his majesty the emperor." 
"'"I am a royalist," replied the general; "I have taken the oath of allegiance to Louis XVIII, and I will adhere to it." These words were followed by a general murmur, and it was evident that several of the members were discussing the propriety of making the general repent of his rashness. 
"'The president again arose, and having imposed silence, said,--"Sir, you are too serious and too sensible a man not to understand the consequences of our present situation, and your candor has already dictated to us the conditions which remain for us to offer you." The general, putting his hand on his sword, exclaimed,--"If you talk of honor, do not begin by disavowing its laws, and impose nothing by violence." 
"'"And you, sir," continued the president, with a calmness still more terrible than the general's anger, "I advise you not to touch your sword." The general looked around him with slight uneasiness; however he did not yield, but calling up all his fortitude, said,--"I will not swear." 
"'"Then you must die," replied the president calmly. M. d'Epinay became very pale; he looked round him a second time, several members of the club were whispering, and getting their arms from under their cloaks. "General," said the president, "do not alarm yourself; you are among men of honor who will use every means to convince you before resorting to the last extremity, but as you have said, you are among conspirators, you are in possession of our secret, and you must restore it to us." A significant silence followed these words, and as the general did not reply,--"Close the doors," said the president to the door-keeper. 
"'The same deadly silence succeeded these words. Then the general advanced, and making a violent effort to control his feelings,--"I have a son," said he, "and I ought to think of him, finding myself among assassins." 
"'"General," said the chief of the assembly, "one man may insult fifty--it is the privilege of weakness. But he does wrong to use his privilege. Follow my advice, swear, and do not insult." The general, again daunted by the superiority of the chief, hesitated a moment; then advancing to the president's desk,--"What is the form, said he. 
"'"It is this:--'I swear by my honor not to reveal to any one what I have seen and heard on the 5th of February, 1815, between nine and ten o'clock in the evening; and I plead guilty of death should I ever violate this oath.'" The general appeared to be affected by a nervous tremor, which prevented his answering for some moments; then, overcoming his manifest repugnance, he pronounced the required oath, but in so low a tone as to be scarcely audible to the majority of the members, who insisted on his repeating it clearly and distinctly, which he did. 
"'"Now am I at liberty to retire?" said the general. The president rose, appointed three members to accompany him, and got into the carriage with the general after bandaging his eyes. One of those three members was the coachman who had driven them there. The other members silently dispersed. "Where do you wish to be taken?" asked the president.--"Anywhere out of your presence," replied M. d'Epinay. "Beware, sir," replied the president, "you are no longer in the assembly, and have only to do with individuals; do not insult them unless you wish to be held responsible." But instead of listening, M. d'Epinay went on,--"You are still as brave in your carriage as in your assembly because you are still four against one." The president stopped the coach. They were at that part of the Quai des Ormes where the steps lead down to the river. "Why do you stop here?" asked d'Epinay. 
"'"Because, sir," said the president, "you have insulted a man, and that man will not go one step farther without demanding honorable reparation." 
"'"Another method of assassination?" said the general, shrugging his shoulders. 
"'"Make no noise, sir, unless you wish me to consider you as one of the men of whom you spoke just now as cowards, who take their weakness for a shield. You are alone, one alone shall answer you; you have a sword by your side, I have one in my cane; you have no witness, one of these gentlemen will serve you. Now, if you please, remove your bandage." The general tore the handkerchief from his eyes. "At last," said he, "I shall know with whom I have to do." They opened the door and the four men alighted.'" 
Franz again interrupted himself, and wiped the cold drops from his brow; there was something awful in hearing the son read aloud in trembling pallor these details of his father's death, which had hitherto been a mystery. Valentine clasped her hands as if in prayer. Noirtier looked at Villefort with an almost sublime expression of contempt and pride. Franz continued:-- 
"'It was, as we said, the fifth of February. For three days the mercury had been five or six degrees below freezing and the steps were covered with ice. The general was stout and tall, the president offered him the side of the railing to assist him in getting down. The two witnesses followed. It was a dark night. The ground from the steps to the river was covered with snow and hoarfrost, the water of the river looked black and deep. One of the seconds went for a lantern in a coal-barge near, and by its light they examined the weapons. The president's sword, which was simply, as he had said, one he carried in his cane, was five inches shorter than the general's, and had no guard. The general proposed to cast lots for the swords, but the president said it was he who had given the provocation, and when he had given it he had supposed each would use his own arms. The witnesses endeavored to insist, but the president bade them be silent. The lantern was placed on the ground, the two adversaries took their stations, and the duel began. The light made the two swords appear like flashes of lightning; as for the men, they were scarcely perceptible, the darkness was so great. 
"'General d'Epinay passed for one of the best swordsmen in the army, but he was pressed so closely in the onset that he missed his aim and fell. The witnesses thought he was dead, but his adversary, who knew he had not struck him, offered him the assistance of his hand to rise. The circumstance irritated instead of calming the general, and he rushed on his adversary. But his opponent did not allow his guard to be broken. He received him on his sword and three times the general drew back on finding himself too closely engaged, and then returned to the charge. At the third he fell again. They thought he slipped, as at first, and the witnesses, seeing he did not move, approached and endeavored to raise him, but the one who passed his arm around the body found it was moistened with blood. The general, who had almost fainted, revived. "Ah," said he, "they have sent some fencing-master to fight with me." The president, without answering, approached the witness who held the lantern, and raising his sleeve, showed him two wounds he had received in his arm; then opening his coat, and unbuttoning his waistcoat, displayed his side, pierced with a third wound. Still he had not even uttered a sigh. General d'Epinay died five minutes after.'" 
Franz read these last words in a voice so choked that they were hardly audible, and then stopped, passing his hand over his eyes as if to dispel a cloud; but after a moment's silence, he continued:-- 
"'The president went up the steps, after pushing his sword into his cane; a track of blood on the snow marked his course. He had scarcely arrived at the top when he heard a heavy splash in the water--it was the general's body, which the witnesses had just thrown into the river after ascertaining that he was dead. The general fell, then, in a loyal duel, and not in ambush as it might have been reported. In proof of this we have signed this paper to establish the truth of the facts, lest the moment should arrive when either of the actors in this terrible scene should be accused of premeditated murder or of infringement of the laws of honor. 
"'Signed, BEAUREPAIRE, DESCHAMPS, and LECHARPAL.'" 
When Franz had finished reading this account, so dreadful for a son; when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away a tear; when Villefort, trembling, and crouched in a corner, had endeavored to lessen the storm by supplicating glances at the implacable old man,--"Sir," said d'Epinay to Noirtier, "since you are well acquainted with all these details, which are attested by honorable signatures,--since you appear to take some interest in me, although you have only manifested it hitherto by causing me sorrow, refuse me not one final satisfaction--tell me the name of the president of the club, that I may at least know who killed my father." Villefort mechanically felt for the handle of the door; Valentine, who understood sooner than anyone her grandfather's answer, and who had often seen two scars upon his right arm, drew back a few steps. "Mademoiselle," said Franz, turning towards Valentine, "unite your efforts with mine to find out the name of the man who made me an orphan at two years of age." Valentine remained dumb and motionless. 
"Hold, sir," said Villefort, "do not prolong this dreadful scene. The names have been purposely concealed; my father himself does not know who this president was, and if he knows, he cannot tell you; proper names are not in the dictionary." 
"Oh, misery," cried Franz: "the only hope which sustained me and enabled me to read to the end was that of knowing, at least, the name of him who killed my father! Sir, sir," cried he, turning to Noirtier, "do what you can--make me understand in some way!" 
"Yes," replied Noirtier. 
"Oh, mademoiselle,--mademoiselle!" cried Franz, "your grandfather says he can indicate the person. Help me,--lend me your assistance!" Noirtier looked at the dictionary. Franz took it with a nervous trembling, and repeated the letters of the alphabet successively, until he came to M. At that letter the old man signified "Yes." 
"M," repeated Franz. The young man's finger, glided over the words, but at each one Noirtier answered by a negative sign. Valentine hid her head between her hands. At length, Franz arrived at the word MYSELF. 
"Yes!" 
"You?" cried Franz, whose hair stood on end; "you, M. Noirtier--you killed my father?" 
"Yes!" replied Noirtier, fixing a majestic look on the young man. Franz fell powerless on a chair; Villefort opened the door and escaped, for the idea had entered his mind to stifle the little remaining life in the heart of this terrible old man.  
诺瓦蒂埃身穿黑衣服，坐在他的圈椅里准备接见他们。当他期待着的三个人进来以后，他看看门，他的跟班就立刻把门关上。 
瓦朗蒂娜掩饰不住内心的喜悦。“记住，”维尔福对她耳语说，“如果诺瓦蒂埃先生想推迟你的婚事，我不许你弄清楚他的意思。” 
瓦朗蒂娜红了红脸，但没有说什么。维尔福走近到诺瓦蒂埃跟前。“您要求见见弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，”他说，“现在他来了。我们都希望他来拜见您一次，我相信在这次拜见以后，您就会理解您反对瓦朗蒂娜的婚事多么没有根据。” 
诺瓦蒂埃只用目光作回答，他那种目光使维尔福的血液立时冷却下来。他用他的眼睛向瓦朗蒂娜给了一个示意，要她走过去。幸而她和她的祖父向来是谈得开的，所以没过多久她就明白了他要的东西是一把钥匙。然后他的眼光落到放在两个窗口之间的一只小柜子的抽屉上。她打开那抽屉，找到一把钥匙。她知这就是他所要的东西，她接下又去注意他的眼睛，他的目光转到一张旧写字台上，这只写字台早已为人忽视，以为里面不过藏着一些无用的文件。 
“要我打开写字台吗？”瓦朗蒂娜问。 
“是的。”老人说。 
“开抽屉？” 
“对。” 
“边上的那些吗？” 
“不。” 
“中间的那个？” 
“是的。” 
瓦朗蒂娜打开抽屉，拿出一卷文件。“您要的是这个吗？” 
她问。 
“不。” 
她把其他所有文件都一样一样拿出来，直到抽屉都拿空了。“抽屉全都空了。”她说。 
诺瓦蒂埃的眼光盯到字典上。 
“好的，我懂了，爷爷。”那青年女郎说。 
她一个一个字母的指着找。指到Ｓ这个字母上，老人就止住她。她翻开字典，一直到“暗隔”这个字。 
“啊！抽屉里有暗隔吗？”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃表示。 
“有谁知道这事？” 
诺瓦蒂埃望着仆人出去的那扇门。 
“巴罗斯？”她说。 
“是的。” 
“我去把他叫来吗？” 
“是的。” 
瓦朗蒂娜到门口去叫巴罗斯。维尔福看得不耐烦极了，汗珠从他的前额滚下来，弗兰兹呆在一边。那个仆人来了。 
“巴罗斯，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“祖父叫我打开写字台的那个抽屉，里面有一层暗隔，你知道怎么打开它，请你弄开好吗？” 
巴罗斯望着那个老人。 
“听她的。”诺瓦蒂埃聪明的眼光说。 
巴罗斯在一暗扭上按动了一下，抽屉的假底脱落了下来，他们见到里面有一卷用黑线缠着的文件。 
“您要的是这样东西吗，老爷？”巴罗斯问。 
“是的。” 
“让我把这些文件交给维尔福先生？” 
“不。” 
“给瓦朗蒂娜小姐？” 
“不。” 
“给弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生？” 
“是的。” 
弗兰兹很是吃惊，他向前了一步。“给我，阁下？”他说。 
“是的。” 
弗兰兹从巴罗斯的手里把文件接过来，眼光落到包皮纸上，念道：我过世之后，把这包东西交给杜兰特将军，再由杜兰特将军传给他的儿子，嘱其妥善保存，为其中藏有一份最最重要的文件。” 
“噢，阁下，”弗兰兹问道，“您想让我怎么处理这卷文件呢？” 
“肯定是要您原封不动地保管起来。”检察官说。 
“不！”诺瓦蒂埃急切地说。 
“您想让他把它念一遍吗？”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“是的。”老人回答。 
“您懂了吗，男爵阁下，家祖父希望您把这卷文件念一遍。”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“那么我们就坐下来吧，”维尔福不耐烦地说，“这可要花一些时间。” 
“坐。”老人的眼光说。 
维尔福在一张椅子上坐下来，但瓦朗蒂娜仍然站在她祖父旁边，弗兰兹站在他前面。“念吧，”老人的眼睛说。弗兰兹撕开封套，在无比深沉的静寂中，念道：“摘自一八一五年二月五日圣·杰克司街拿破仑党俱乐部会议录。” 
弗兰兹顿了一顿。“一八一五年二月五日！”他说，“这是家父被害的日子。” 
瓦朗蒂娜和维尔福都一时哑口无言，只有老人的目光似乎明明白白地说道：“往下念。” 
“可是，”他说：“家父是在离开这个俱乐部以后才失踪的。” 
诺瓦蒂埃的眼光继续说：“念呀。” 
他又继续念道：署名证人炮兵中校路易士·杰克·波尔贝、陆军准将艾蒂安·杜香比及森林水利部长克劳特·李卡波声明：二月四日，接到厄尔巴岛送来的一封函件，向拿破仑党俱乐部推荐弗莱文·奎斯奈尔将军，略谓自一八○四年到一八一四年间，将军始终在圣上麾下服务，路易十八最近虽封他为男爵，并赐以伊皮奈采邑一处，但据说他仍旧对拿破仑皇朝忠心不二。因此有了一张条子送给了奎斯奈尔将军，邀他出席第二天（五日）的会议。条子上没有明写开会地点的街名及门牌号码，也没有署名，只是通知将军，要他在九点钟的时候作好准备开会，有人自会来拜访他。历次的会议都在那个时候开始，一直到午夜。九点钟的时候，俱乐部主席亲自前去拜访，将军已经准备好了。主席告知他，这次邀请他赴会，有一个条件，就是他绝不能知道开会的地点，他的眼睛得蒙起来，保证绝不扯开绑带。奎斯奈尔将军接受了这个条件，并以人格担保绝不想去知道他们所经的路线。将军的马车已经备好，但主席告诉他不能用那辆车子，因为如果车夫可以睁大眼睛认他所经过的街道，那么蒙住主人的眼睛就是多余了。‘那么得怎么办才好呢？’将军问。‘我的马车在这儿，’主席说。‘那么，您却这样信任您的仆人，甚至可以把一个不能让我知道的秘密交托给他吗？’‘我们的车夫是俱乐部的一个会员，’主席说，‘给我们驾车的是一位国务顾问呢。’‘那么我们还有一个危险，’将军大笑着说，‘可能翻车。’我们认为这种玩笑的态度证明将军出席这次会议绝无被迫的嫌疑，而是他自愿前往的。他们坐进马车以后，主席向将军提醒他做的誓言，要把眼睛蒙起来，他并不加以反对。路上，主席看见将军好象有移动那条手帕的念头，就提醒他的誓言。‘没错。’将军说。马车在一条通往圣·杰克司街去的小弄前面停住。将军扶着主席的胳臂下了车，他不清楚主席的身分，还以为他不过是俱乐部的一个会员；他们穿过那条小弄，上了二楼，走进会议厅。讨论已经开始。会员们由于知道那天晚上要介绍一个新会员，所以全体出席。到了屋子中间，他们请将军解开他的手帕，他立刻照办。直到现在，这个社交团体他才知道它的存在，但他却在这个团里见到那么多熟悉的面孔，所以他好象很显得惊讶。他们询问他的政治见解，他只是回答说，那封厄尔巴岛来的信应该已经告知他们了——” 
弗兰兹中断他自己朗读，说：“家父是一个保皇党，他们毫无必要询问他的政见，这个大家都知道。” 
“我敬重令尊也正因为这一点，我亲爱的弗兰兹先生。”维尔福说，“观点相同的人很容易成为朋友。” 
“念呀。”老人的眼光继续说。 
弗兰兹继续念道：“于是主席就让他说得更明确一点，但奎斯奈尔先生回答说，他希望先知道他们要他做些什么事情。于是他们就把厄尔巴岛来的那封信的内容告诉他，那封信将他推荐给俱乐部，认为他也许可以加强他们党的利益。其中有一段讲到波拿巴的返回，并且说另有一封更详细的信托埃及王号带回来，那艘船属于马赛船商莫雷尔，船长对圣上十分忠心。在这期间，这位他们把他当作一个可以信赖的如兄弟一样带来的将军，始终隐约现出厌恶不满的态度。当那封信读完的时候，他依然紧皱着眉头，默默地一言不发。‘唉，’主席问道，‘您对于这封信有什么话要说吗，将军？’‘我说，我在不久以前刚刚宣誓效忠路易十八，现在要我为了废皇来破坏自己的誓言，那未免太唐突了。’这个答复再明显不过了，他的政见已经没有丝毫可怀疑的余地。‘将军’，主席说，‘我们不承认有国王路易十八，也不承认有一位废皇，只承认被暴力和叛逆驱逐出他的法兰西帝国的圣上陛下。’‘原谅我，诸位’，将军说，‘你们或许可以不承认路易十八，但是我却承认，因为他封我做了男爵和元帅，我永远不会忘记我能获得这两项殊荣，归功于他的荣归法国。’‘阁下，’主席用一种严肃不过的口吻说，一边说，一边站起身来，‘您说话得小心点儿，您的话明白无误地告诉我们：在您的事情上，厄尔巴岛上的人是给骗了，而且我们也给骗了。我们对您的这番交往，证明我们很信任您，而且以为您拥有着一种足可以使您留光的政见。现在我们发觉我们错了。一个衔头和一次晋级已使您忠于我们想要推翻的那个政府。我们并不强迫您帮我们什么——我们绝不勉强拉人参加我们中间来，但我们要强迫您作光明正大的行为，即使您本意不情愿那么做。’您所谓光明正大的行为，就是知道了你们的阴谋而不把它泄漏出去，但我认为这样做，就成了你们的同谋犯。您看，我可比您坦诚。’” 
“啊，我的父亲！”弗兰兹又中断下来说。“我现在明白他们为什么要谋害他了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜情不自禁地朝那个青年人瞥了一眼，那个青年的脸上正洋溢着热情的孝思，看上去十分可爱。维尔福在他的背后走过来走过去。诺瓦蒂埃注视着每一个人的表情，仍保持着他那种凛然威严的神气。弗兰兹的目光又回落到原稿上，继续念道：“‘阁下，’主席说，‘您参加这次集会，是我们请来的，不是强迫你来的。我们建议您蒙住眼睛，您接受了。您在答应这两个要求的时候，心里很清楚：我们并不愿意保留路易十八的王位，不然，我们就用不着这样小心以躲避警务部的监视了。您戴着一个假面具来这里发现了我们的秘密，然后又把那个假面具撕下来，要毁掉信任您的那些人，如果我们让您那么去做，那未免太宽大无边了。不行，不行，您必须首先起誓，究竟您是效忠于现在当政的那个短命国王，还是效忠于皇帝陛下。’‘我是一个保皇党，’将军答道，‘我曾宣誓尽忠于路易十八，我决心信守这个誓言。’这几句话引起了全场骚动；有几个会员显然已经开始用什么办法来让将军后悔他自己的鲁莽。主席又站了起来，在恢复了肃静以后，说：‘阁下，您是一个严肃智慧的人，决不会不明白我们眼前这种状况的后果，您的诚实已经告诉我们应该向您提出什么条件。所以，您必须以您的人格发誓，绝不泄漏您所听到的一切。’将军用手握着剑柄，喊道：‘如果你们要讲人格，首先就不要破坏人格的基本条件，不要用暴力来强求任何东西。’‘而您，阁下，’主席很镇定地说，他的镇定比将军的愤怒更加可怕、‘不要用手动您的剑，我忠告您。’将军略感不安地向四周环顾：他并不让步，而汇集了他的全部力量。‘我不发誓。’他说。‘那么您必须死。’主席平静地回答。伊皮奈先生的脸色变得十分苍白。又一次环顾四周；有几个俱乐部的会员在交头接耳，窃窃私议，在大氅底下摸他们的武器。‘将军，’主席说，‘您不用慌。这里的人都是有人格的，我们在采取不得已的极端手段以前，先要尽量说服您；但您说过，这儿的人都是叛徒，您掌握着我们的秘密，您必须把它交给我们。’这几句话之后，是一片意义深长的寂静，因为将军并没有答复。‘把门关上。’主席对守门的人说。这句话跟着的还是死一样的静寂。之后将军往前跨几步，竭力控制他自己的情感。‘我有一个儿子，’他说，在我发觉只身处在一群暗杀者中间的时候，我必须为他考虑。’‘将军，’大会的主人用一种高贵的神情说，‘一个人可以侮辱五十个人，是弱者的特权。但他使用这种特权是不妥当的。听从我的忠告，起誓吧，不要再侮辱。’将军的锐气又给主席的威仪挫败了，他迟疑了一下儿，然后走到主席台前。‘用什么形式？’他说。‘我想这样：“我以我的人格发誓，我于一八一五年二月五日晚上九时至十时间所闻的一切，绝不向任何人泄露，如违此誓，甘愿身死。”’将军神经质地打了一个寒颤，好象大为感动，一时说不出话；然后他克制住那种很明显表露出来的厌恶感，道出那个他所要立的誓言，但他的声音如此之低，简直难以听清。大多数会员都坚持要他清清楚楚地重复一遍，他也照办了。‘现在可以允许我退席了吗？”他说。主席站起身来，指派三个会员陪着他，先是蒙上将军的眼睛，然后和他一起走进马车。那三名会员之中，其中一个就是为他们赶车到那儿去的车夫。‘您要我们送您到什么地方？’主席问。‘随便什么地方都可以，只要不再见到你们就行。伊皮奈先生回答。‘请您放明白点，阁下，’主席答道，“您现在不是在会场里了，现在大家都各人是各人，不要侮辱他们，否则您要后果自负。’但伊皮奈先生不听这些话，继续说：‘你们在你们的马车里还是跟在你们的会场里一样勇敢，因为你们还是四对一。’主席喊住马车。他们这时已到奥米斯码头，那儿有石级通到河边。‘你们为什么在这儿停车？’伊皮奈问。‘因为，阁下，’主席说，‘您侮辱了一个人，而那个人在没有得到体面的补偿以前，不想再往前走一步了。’‘又想进行暗杀吗？’将军耸耸肩说。‘别嚷，阁下，您是希望我把您看作一个懦夫，而用弱者的身分当挡箭牌吗。您只身一人，对付您的也只一个人。您身上有一把剑，我的手杖里也有一把。您没人作证；这几位先生中有一位可以听您吩咐。现在，如果您愿意的话，请摘掉您的蒙眼带吧。’将军把他眼睛上的手帕扯下来。‘我终于可以看清我的对手是谁了。’他说。他们打开车门，四个人都走了出来。” 
弗兰兹再一次停下来，擦一把额头上的冷汗；他父亲死时的详细情形直到那时为止仍然还是一个谜，现在让这个做儿子的浑身颤抖、脸色苍白地把它大声念出来，的确产生使人感到一种动人心魄的气氛。瓦朗蒂娜紧攥着她的双手，象是在祈祷。诺瓦蒂埃带着一极其轻视和高傲的神情看着维尔福。弗兰兹继续念道：“前面我们说过，那天是二月五日。三天以来，天气却非常寒冷，石级上结着一层冰。将军身材高大结实，主席把有栏杆的那一边让给他，以便他可以扶栏走下去。两个证人跟在后面。这是一个没有月亮的夜晚。从石级到河边的这一段路面上盖满了雪和霜。其中一个证人到附近的一艘煤船上去借了一盏灯笼，他们在灯光下检验武器。主席的那把剑很简单，就象他所说的，就是套在他手杖里的那一把；他的剑比将军的短五叶，而且没有护手把。将军建议拿两把剑来抽签，但主席说，他是挑战一方，而且在他挑战的时候，本来想每人都用他自己的武器。两个证人却极力要求抽签，但主席命令他们不要多说话。灯笼放到地上，两方敌手站好步位，决斗便告开始。灯光令两把剑看起来象是闪耀电光的，至千人，他们几乎看不清楚，黑暗实在太浓了。伊皮奈将军原被公认为陆军中最好的剑手之一，但他在攻击的时候由于让对方逼得太紧，所以没能刺中他的目标，而跌了一交。证人们以为他死了，但他的对手知道自己的剑没有刺中他，便伸手扶他起来。这种情形非但没有让将军平静下来，反倒激怒了他，他向他的敌手冲过去。但他的对手一剑都不曾虚击。将军三次中剑，三次倒退；他觉得自己给逼得太被动，就再一次采取攻势。击到第三剑时，他又跌倒了。他们以为他又是象一次那样滑倒的。证人们见到他倒下不动，就走过去想扶他起来，但去抱他身体的那一位证人觉得他的手上粘到一种温热潮湿的东西——那是血。将军本来几乎已给昏死过去，这时又苏醒过来。‘啊！’他说，‘他们派了一个剑术大师来和我决斗。’主席并不作声，走近那个提灯笼的证人，撩起他的衣袖，把他手臂上受的两处伤亮给他看；然后解开他的上装，打开背心的纽扣，露出身侧受到的第三处剑伤。可他连哼都没有哼一声。五分钟后，伊皮奈将军死了。” 
弗兰兹读到最后这几句的时候，他的声音已经哽咽，他们几乎听不清楚念了些什么，于是他顿了顿，用手在眼睛上抹了一下，好象要驱散掉一片云；静寂一会儿以后，他继续念道：“主席将剑插进他的手杖，转身走下石级；一道血迹顺着他的脚步滴到白雪上。他刚走上石级顶，忽然听到河水里发出一阵沉重的浅水声，那是扔将军的尸体所发出来的声音，证人们验实他确已死亡，就把他抛入河中。所以，将军是在一场高尚的决斗中被杀死而不是被冷箭所暗杀。为证明这一点，我们签署这宗文件，以明真相，深恐将来传闻失实，这幕可怕的场面里的参与者可能会被诬蔑为蓄意谋杀或者别的不名誉的行为。 
波尔贝杜香比李卡波” 
弗兰兹读完这宗可怕的文件，瓦朗蒂娜感动得脸色发白，擅去了一滴眼泪，维尔福浑身发抖，它缩在一个角落里，以哀求的目光看着那个意志坚强的老人。“阁下，”伊皮奈对诺瓦蒂埃说，“这卷文件上的证人都是很有名望的人士，既然您对于这些情况知道得这么详细，既然您好象很关心我——虽然直到目前为止，您带给我的只有悲痛——请不要拒绝满足我唯一的要求，请告诉我那个俱乐部的主席的名字，我起码也应该知道杀死我可怜父亲的到底是谁。” 
维尔福不知所措地去摸门把手，瓦朗蒂娜往后倒退了几步，她比谁都更早地料想到她祖父的答案，因为她常常看见他的右臂上有两块疤痕。 
“小姐，”弗兰兹转向瓦朗蒂娜说，“您和我一块儿找出来究竟是谁让我两岁的时候就成了一个孤儿。” 
瓦朗蒂娜仍然无言以答，一动也不动。 
“拉倒吧，阁下！”维尔福说，“这幕可怕的场面别再没完没了。那个名字是有意隐蔽掉的。家父自己也不知道这个主席究竟何人，即便知道，他也没有告诉您，字典里可没有专用名词。” 
“噢，我真痛苦呀！”弗兰兹喊道，“我所以还有勇气读到底，就是希望起码可以知道是谁杀死我父亲的！阁下！阁下！” 
他朝诺瓦蒂埃喊道，“看在上帝面上，想想办法！想一个办法来让我知道吧！” 
“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃回答。 
“噢，小姐！小姐！”弗兰兹喊道，“您的祖父说他能够说出——那个人。帮帮我！帮帮我的忙！” 
诺瓦蒂埃看着那本字典。弗兰兹浑身神经质地颤抖，拿过字典，把字母一个接一个背下去，一直背到Ｍ。背到那个字母，老人示意说：“是的。” 
“Ｍ，”弗兰兹说。那个青年人的手指一个字一个字地往下移，但诺瓦蒂埃对每一个字作出一个否定的表示。瓦朗蒂娜把她的头埋在自己的双手里。最后，弗兰兹指到“我”那个字。 
“是的。”老人示意说。 
“你？”弗兰兹喊道，他的头发一下子竖起来，“你，诺瓦蒂埃先生？——是你把我父亲杀死的？” 
“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃用威严的目光盯住那个青年答道。 
弗兰兹瘫软地倒在一张椅子上；维尔福打开门溜之大吉了，因为他的脑子里产生起了一个念头，竟想消灭那老人心里残留的一点生命。
Chapter 76 Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger
 MEANWHILE M. Cavalcanti the elder had returned to his service, not in the army of his majesty the Emperor of Austria, but at the gaming-table of the baths of Lucca, of which he was one of the most assiduous courtiers. He had spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari. He was now fairly launched in that Parisian society which gives such ready access to foreigners, and treats them, not as they really are, but as they wish to be considered. Besides, what is required of a young man in Paris? To speak its language tolerably, to make a good appearance, to be a good gamester, and to pay in cash. They are certainly less particular with a foreigner than with a Frenchman. Andrea had, then, in a fortnight, attained a very fair position. He was called count, he was said to possess 50,000 livres per annum; and his father's immense riches, buried in the quarries of Saravezza, were a constant theme. A learned man, before whom the last circumstance was mentioned as a fact, declared he had seen the quarries in question, which gave great weight to assertions hitherto somewhat doubtful, but which now assumed the garb of reality. 
Such was the state of society in Paris at the period we bring before our readers, when Monte Cristo went one evening to pay M. Danglars a visit. M. Danglars was out, but the count was asked to go and see the baroness, and he accepted the invitation. It was never without a nervous shudder, since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo's name announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became most intense; if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should entertain evil designs against her; besides, the most corrupt minds only suspect evil when it would answer some interested end--useless injury is repugnant to every mind. When Monte Cristo entered the boudoir,--to which we have already once introduced our readers, and where the baroness was examining some drawings, which her daughter passed to her after having looked at them with M. Cavalcanti,--his presence soon produced its usual effect, and it was with smiles that the baroness received the count, although she had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance. 
The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugénie sat near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs launched in the same direction. 
Mademoiselle Danglars was still the same--cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her; they might have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of Sappho. Eugénie bowed coldly to the count, and availed herself of the first moment when the conversation became earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, her singing teacher. 
It was then, especially while conversing with Madame Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend, until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life. 
"Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?" said Danglars to Andrea. 
"Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones. 
Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened it. 
The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a fancy to which they had accustomed themselves, and performed admirably. Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whom they then perceived through the open doorway, formed with Eugénie one of the tableaux vivants of which the Germans are so fond. She was somewhat beautiful, and exquisitely formed--a little fairy-like figure, with large curls falling on her neck, which was rather too long, as Perugino sometimes makes his Virgins, and her eyes dull from fatigue. She was said to have a weak chest, and like Antonia in the "Cremona Violin," she would die one day while singing. Monte Cristo cast one rapid and curious glance round this sanctum; it was the first time he had ever seen Mademoiselle d'Armilly, of whom he had heard much. "Well," said the banker to his daughter, "are we then all to be excluded?" He then led the young man into the study, and either by chance or manoeuvre the door was partially closed after Andrea, so that from the place where they sat neither the Count nor the baroness could see anything; but as the banker had accompanied Andrea, Madame Danglars appeared to take no notice of it. 
The count soon heard Andrea's voice, singing a Corsican song, accompanied by the piano. While the count smiled at hearing this song, which made him lose sight of Andrea in the recollection of Benedetto, Madame Danglars was boasting to Monte Cristo of her husband's strength of mind, who that very morning had lost three or four hundred thousand francs by a failure at Milan. The praise was well deserved, for had not the count heard it from the baroness, or by one of those means by which he knew everything, the baron's countenance would not have led him to suspect it. "Hem," thought Monte Cristo, "he begins to conceal his losses; a month since he boasted of them." Then aloud,--"Oh, madame, M. Danglars is so skilful, he will soon regain at the Bourse what he loses elsewhere." 
"I see that you participate in a prevalent error," said Madame Danglars. "What is it?" said Monte Cristo. 
"That M. Danglars speculates, whereas he never does." 
"Truly, madame, I recollect M. Debray told me--apropos, what is become of him? I have seen nothing of him the last three or four days." 
"Nor I," said Madame Danglars; "but you began a sentence, sir, and did not finish." 
"Which?" 
"M. Debray had told you"-- 
"Ah, yes; he told me it was you who sacrificed to the demon of speculation." 
"I was once very fond of it, but I do not indulge now." 
"Then you are wrong, madame. Fortune is precarious; and if I were a woman and fate had made me a banker's wife, whatever might be my confidence in my husband's good fortune, still in speculation you know there is great risk. Well, I would secure for myself a fortune independent of him, even if I acquired it by placing my interests in hands unknown to him." Madame Danglars blushed, in spite of all her efforts. "Stay," said Monte Cristo, as though he had not observed her confusion, "I have heard of a lucky hit that was made yesterday on the Neapolitan bonds." 
"I have none--nor have I ever possessed any; but really we have talked long enough of money, count, we are like two stockbrokers; have you heard how fate is persecuting the poor Villeforts?" 
"What has happened?" said the count, simulating total ignorance. 
"You know the Marquis of Saint-Méran died a few days after he had set out on his journey to Paris, and the marchioness a few days after her arrival?" 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I have heard that; but, as Claudius said to Hamlet, 'it is a law of nature; their fathers died before them, and they mourned their loss; they will die before their children, who will, in their turn, grieve for them.'" 
"But that is not all." 
"Not all!" "No; they were going to marry their daughter"-- 
"To M. Franz d'Epinay. Is it broken off?" 
"Yesterday morning, it appears, Franz declined the honor." 
"Indeed? And is the reason known?" 
"No." 
"How extraordinary! And how does M. de Villefort bear it?" 
"As usual. Like a philosopher." Danglars returned at this moment alone. "Well," said the baroness, "do you leave M. Cavalcanti with your daughter?" 
"And Mademoiselle d'Armilly," said the banker; "do you consider her no one?" Then, turning to Monte Cristo, he said, "Prince Cavalcanti is a charming young man, is he not? But is he really a prince?" 
"I will not answer for it," said Monte Cristo. "His father was introduced to me as a marquis, so he ought to be a count; but I do not think he has much claim to that title." 
"Why?" said the banker. "If he is a prince, he is wrong not to maintain his rank; I do not like any one to deny his origin." 
"Oh, you are a thorough democrat," said Monte Cristo, smiling. 
"But do you see to what you are exposing yourself?" said the baroness. "If, perchance, M. de Morcerf came, he would find M. Cavalcanti in that room, where he, the betrothed of Eugénie, has never been admitted." 
"You may well say, perchance," replied the banker; "for he comes so seldom, it would seem only chance that brings him." 
"But should he come and find that young man with your daughter, he might be displeased." 
"He? You are mistaken. M. Albert would not do us the honor to be jealous; he does not like Eugénie sufficiently. Besides, I care not for his displeasure." 
"Still, situated as we are"-- 
"Yes, do you know how we are situated? At his mother's ball he danced once with Eugénie, and M. Cavalcanti three times, and he took no notice of it." The valet announced the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. The baroness rose hastily, and was going into the study, when Danglars stopped her. "Let her alone," said he. She looked at him in amazement. Monte Cristo appeared to be unconscious of what passed. Albert entered, looking very handsome and in high spirits. He bowed politely to the baroness, familiarly to Danglars, and affectionately to Monte Cristo. Then turning to the baroness: "May I ask how Mademoiselle Danglars is?" said he. 
"She is quite well," replied Danglars quickly; "she is at the piano with M. Cavalcanti." Albert retained his calm and indifferent manner; he might feel perhaps annoyed, but he knew Monte Cristo's eye was on him. "M. Cavalcanti has a fine tenor voice," said he, "and Mademoiselle Eugénie a splendid soprano, and then she plays the piano like Thalberg. The concert must be a delightful one." 
"They suit each other remarkably well," said Danglars. Albert appeared not to notice this remark, which was, however, so rude that Madame Danglars blushed. 
"I, too," said the young man, "am a musician--at least, my masters used to tell me so; but it is strange that my voice never would suit any other, and a soprano less than any." Danglars smiled, and seemed to say, "It is of no consequence." Then, hoping doubtless to effect his purpose, he said,--"The prince and my daughter were universally admired yesterday. You were not of the party, M. de Morcerf?" 
"What prince?" asked Albert. "Prince Cavalcanti," said Danglars, who persisted in giving the young man that title. 
"Pardon me," said Albert, "I was not aware that he was a prince. And Prince Cavalcanti sang with Mademoiselle Eugénie yesterday? It must have been charming, indeed. I regret not having heard them. But I was unable to accept your invitation, having promised to accompany my mother to a German concert given by the Baroness of Chateau-Renaud." This was followed by rather an awkward silence. "May I also be allowed," said Morcerf, "to pay my respects to Mademoiselle Danglars?" "Wait a moment," said the banker, stopping the young man; "do you hear that delightful cavatina? Ta, ta, ta, ti, ta, ti, ta, ta; it is charming, let them finish--one moment. Bravo, bravi, brava!" The banker was enthusiastic in his applause. 
"Indeed," said Albert, "it is exquisite; it is impossible to understand the music of his country better than Prince Cavalcanti does. You said prince, did you not? But he can easily become one, if he is not already; it is no uncommon thing in Italy. But to return to the charming musicians--you should give us a treat, Danglars, without telling them there is a stranger. Ask them to sing one more song; it is so delightful to hear music in the distance, when the musicians are unrestrained by observation." 
Danglars was quite annoyed by the young man's indifference. He took Monte Cristo aside. "What do you think of our lover?" said he. 
"He appears cool. But, then your word is given." 
"Yes, doubtless I have promised to give my daughter to a man who loves her, but not to one who does not. See him there, cold as marble and proud like his father. If he were rich, if he had Cavalcanti's fortune, that might be pardoned. Ma foi, I haven't consulted my daughter; but if she has good taste"-- 
"Oh," said Monte Cristo, "my fondness may blind me, but I assure you I consider Morcerf a charming young man who will render your daughter happy and will sooner or later attain a certain amount of distinction, and his father's position is good." 
"Hem," said Danglars. 
"Why do you doubt?" 
"The past--that obscurity on the past." 
"But that does not affect the son." 
"Very true." 
"Now, I beg of you, don't go off your head. It's a month now that you have been thinking of this marriage, and you must see that it throws some responsibility on me, for it was at my house you met this young Cavalcanti, whom I do not really know at all." 
"But I do." 
"Have you made inquiry?" 
"Is there any need of that! Does not his appearance speak for him? And he is very rich." 
"I am not so sure of that." 
"And yet you said he had money." 
"Fifty thousand livres--a mere trifle." 
"He is well educated." 
"Hem," said Monte Cristo in his turn. 
"He is a musician." 
"So are all Italians." 
"Come, count, you do not do that young man justice." 
"Well, I acknowledge it annoys me, knowing your connection with the Morcerf family, to see him throw himself in the way." Danglars burst out laughing. "What a Puritan you are!" said he; "that happens every day." 
"But you cannot break it off in this way; the Morcerfs are depending on this union." 
"Indeed." 
"Positively." 
"Then let them explain themselves; you should give the father a hint, you are so intimate with the family." 
"I?--where the devil did you find out that?" 
"At their ball; it was apparent enough. Why, did not the countess, the proud Mercédès, the disdainful Catalane, who will scarcely open her lips to her oldest acquaintances, take your arm, lead you into the garden, into the private walks, and remain there for half an hour?" 
"Ah, baron, baron," said Albert, "you are not listening--what barbarism in a melomaniac like you!" 
"Oh, don't worry about me, Sir Mocker," said Danglars; then turning to the count he said, "but will you undertake to speak to the father?" 
"Willingly, if you wish it." 
"But let it be done explicitly and positively. If he demands my daughter let him fix the day--declare his conditions; in short, let us either understand each other, or quarrel. You understand--no more delay." 
"Yes. sir, I will give my attention to the subject." 
"I do not say that I await with pleasure his decision, but I do await it. A banker must, you know, be a slave to his promise." And Danglars sighed as M. Cavalcanti had done half an hour before. "Bravi, bravo, brava!" cried Morcerf, parodying the banker, as the selection came to an end. Danglars began to look suspiciously at Morcerf, when some one came and whispered a few words to him. "I shall soon return," said the banker to Monte Cristo; "wait for me. I shall, perhaps, have something to say to you." And he went out. 
The baroness took advantage of her husband's absence to push open the door of her daughter's study, and M. Andrea, who was sitting before the piano with Mademoiselle Eugénie, started up like a jack-in-the-box. Albert bowed with a smile to Mademoiselle Danglars, who did not appear in the least disturbed, and returned his bow with her usual coolness. Cavalcanti was evidently embarrassed; he bowed to Morcerf, who replied with the most impertinent look possible. Then Albert launched out in praise of Mademoiselle Danglars' voice, and on his regret, after what he had just heard, that he had been unable to be present the previous evening. Cavalcanti, being left alone, turned to Monte Cristo. 
"Come," said Madame Danglars, "leave music and compliments, and let us go and take tea." 
"Come, Louise," said Mademoiselle Danglars to her friend. They passed into the next drawing-room, where tea was prepared. Just as they were beginning, in the English fashion, to leave the spoons in their cups, the door again opened and Danglars entered, visibly agitated. Monte Cristo observed it particularly, and by a look asked the banker for an explanation. "I have just received my courier from Greece," said Danglars. 
"Ah, yes," said the count; "that was the reason of your running away from us." 
"Yes." 
"How is King Otho getting on?" asked Albert in the most sprightly tone. Danglars cast another suspicious look towards him without answering, and Monte Cristo turned away to conceal the expression of pity which passed over his features, but which was gone in a moment. "We shall go together, shall we not?" said Albert to the count. 
"If you like," replied the latter. Albert could not understand the banker's look, and turning to Monte Cristo, who understood it perfectly,--"Did you see," said he, "how he looked at me?" 
"Yes," said the count; "but did you think there was anything particular in his look?" 
"Indeed, I did; and what does he mean by his news from Greece?" 
"How can I tell you?" 
"Because I imagine you have correspondents in that country." Monte Cristo smiled significantly. 
"Stop," said Albert, "here he comes. I shall compliment Mademoiselle Danglars on her cameo, while the father talks to you." 
"If you compliment her at all, let it be on her voice, at least," said Monte Cristo. 
"No, every one would do that." 
"My dear viscount, you are dreadfully impertinent." Albert advanced towards Eugénie, smiling. Meanwhile, Danglars, stooping to Monte Cristo's ear, "Your advice was excellent," said he; "there is a whole history connected with the names Fernand and Yanina." 
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Yes, I will tell you all; but take away the young man; I cannot endure his presence." 
"He is going with me. Shall I send the father to you?" 
"Immediately." 
"Very well." The count made a sign to Albert and they bowed to the ladies, and took their leave, Albert perfectly indifferent to Mademoiselle Danglars' contempt, Monte Cristo reiterating his advice to Madame Danglars on the prudence a banker's wife should exercise in providing for the future. M. Cavalcanti remained master of the field.  
此时，老卡瓦尔康蒂先生已经回来，不是回到奥地利皇帝陛下的军队里去服役，而是回到卢卡的澡堂的赌桌上，因为他过去就是那儿最坚定的顾客之一。他这次出门旅行，把用威严的态度扮演一个父亲所得的报酬花得一干二净。他离开的时候，他把所有的证明文件都交给安德烈先生，证实后者的确是巴陀罗术奥侯爵和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的儿子。巴黎社交界本来就非常愿意接纳外国人，而且并不按照他们的实际身份对待他们，而是以他们所希望有的身份对待他们，所以安德烈先生现在已很顺利地打进了社交界。而且，一个青年人在巴黎所需要的条件是什么呢？只要他的法语过得去，只要他的仪表堂堂，只要他是一个技巧很高的赌客，并且用现款付赌账，那就足够了。这些条件对外国人和法国人其实并没有区别。所以，在两个星期之内，安德烈已获得了一个非常称心的地位。他人称子爵阁下，据说他每年有五万里弗的收益；大家还常常说他父有一笔巨大的财富埋藏在塞拉维柴的采石场里。至于最后这一点，人们最初谈起的时候还没有把它真当回事，但后来有一位学者宣称他曾见过那些采石场，他的话给那个当时多少还有点不确实的话题增加了很大的确实性，为它披上了一层真实的外衣。 
这就是我们向读者们介绍过的当时巴黎社交界的情形。 
有天傍晚，基督山去拜访腾格拉尔先生。腾格拉尔出去了；但男爵夫人请伯爵进去，他就接受了欧特伊的那次晚餐以后和后来接着发生的那些事件发生以来，腾格拉尔夫人每次听仆人过来通报基督山的名字，总不免要神经质地打个寒颤。如果他不来，那种痛苦的心情就变得非常紧张：如果他来了，则他那高贵的相貌、那明亮的眼睛、那和蔼的态度以及他那殷勤关切的态度，不久就驱散了腾格拉尔夫人所有不安的情绪。 
在男爵夫人看来，一个态度如此亲善可爱的人不可能对她心存不测。而且，即使是心术最不正的人，也只有在和她发生利害冲突的时候才会起坏心，否则，谁都不会平白地想起来害人。当基督山踏进那间我们向读者们介绍过一次的女主人会客室的时候，欧热妮小姐正在那儿和卡瓦尔康蒂先生一起欣赏几幅图画，他们看过以后，就传给男爵夫人看。伯爵的拜访不一会儿就产生了跟往常一样的效果；仆人来通报的时候，男爵夫人虽然略微有一点手足无措。但她还是笑着接待了伯爵。而后者只看了一眼就把整个情景尽收眼底。 
男爵夫人斜靠在一张鸳鸯椅上，欧热妮坐在她身边，卡瓦尔康蒂则站着。卡瓦尔康蒂一身黑衣，象歌德诗歌里的主人公那样，穿着黑色皮鞋和镂花的白丝袜，一只很好看的雪白的手插在他那浅色的头发里，头发中间有一颗钻石闪闪放光，那是因为基督山虽曾好言相劝，但这位好虚荣的青年人却仍禁不住要在他的小手指上戴上一只钻戒。除了这个动作以外，他还时时向腾格拉尔小姐投送秋波和乞怜的叹息。腾格拉尔小姐还是一如既往——冷淡、漂亮和好讽刺，那种眼光和那种叹息，没有一次不经过她的眼睛和耳朵；但那种眼光和叹息可以说是落到了文艺女神密娜伐的盾牌上面——那副盾牌，据某些哲学家考证，好几次保护了希腊女诗人萨弗的胸膛。欧热妮冷淡地向伯爵鞠了一躬，寒喧之后，立刻借故逃到她的书斋里，不一会儿，那儿就有两个欢快的声音随着钢琴的旋律嘹亮地唱起歌来。基督山以此知道腾格拉尔小姐不愿意陪伴他和卡瓦尔康蒂先生而情愿和她的音乐教师罗茜·亚密莱小姐待在一起。 
此时，伯爵一面和腾格拉尔夫人说着话，装出显然对说话十分感到兴趣的样子，一面却特别注意安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生那种怀念的神情，那种倾听他不敢进门的屋子里传来的音乐的样子，以及他那种倾慕的态度。银行家不久就回来了。他的目光是毫无疑问的落到基督山身上，而后就轮到安德烈。至于他的妻子，他用一些丈夫对妻子的那种仪礼向她鞠了一躬，即那种仪礼是未婚的男子们绝不能理解的，除非将来有关夫妻生活出版一部面面俱到的法典。 
“小姐们没请您去和她们一起弹琴吗？”腾格拉尔对安德烈说。 
“唉！没有，阁下。”安德烈叹了口气回答，这声叹息比前面几次更明显了。腾格拉尔立刻朝那扇门走去，把门打开。 
两位青年小姐并排坐在钢琴前的椅子上，她们在互相伴奏，每人用一只手——她们很喜欢这样练习，而且已经配合得极其娴熟。从打开着的门口望进去，亚密莱小姐和欧热妮构成了一幅德国人非常喜欢的画面。她多少有几分姿色，非常文雅——身材还算不错，只是偏瘦了一点，大绺鬈发垂到她的脖子上（那脖子有点太长了，好象庇鲁杰诺所雕塑的某些仙女一样），眼睛懒散无神。据说她的胸部很健康，将来有一天，会象《克里蒙的小提琴》［《克里蒙的小提琴》是德国音乐家兼小说家霍夫曼（一七七六—一八二二）的小说，安东妮是小说的女主人公。——译注］中的安东妮那样死在歌唱上。 
基督山向这间圣殿迅速又好奇地瞥了一眼；他以前曾听到过许多有关亚密莱小姐的话题，但目睹她，这还是第一次。 
“噢！”银行家对他的女儿说，“把我们都冷落到一边了吗？”于是他就领着那个青年人走进书斋里去，并且不知究竟是巧合还是有意，安德烈进去以后，那扇门成了个半掩的状态，所以从伯爵或男爵夫人坐着的地方望过去，他们什么也看到见；但因为有银行家陪着安德烈，腾格拉尔夫人也就不去注意他们了。 
不久伯爵就听到安德烈的声音，在钢琴的伴奏下，高唱一首科西嘉民歌。听到这个歌声，伯爵微笑起来，这使他忘记安德烈，想起贝尼代托，腾格拉尔夫人则向基督山夸奖她丈夫的坚强意志，因为那天早晨他刚刚因为梅朗的商务受挫而损失了三四十万法郎。这种夸奖确实是应得的，因为要不是伯爵从男爵夫人的口里听到这回事，或雇用用他那种洞察一切的方式去打听，单从男爵的脸上，他也不会怀疑到这一点。“哼！”基督山想道，“他开始隐瞒他的损失了，一个月以前，他大吹大擂，”于是他大声说，“噢，夫人，腾格拉尔先生非常能干，用不了多久他就会在证券交易所里把所有的损失都捞回来的。” 
“我看您也有一个错误的念头，跟很多人一样。”腾格拉尔夫人说。 
“什么念头？”基督山说。 
“就是以为腾格拉尔先生做的是投机生意，而实际上他从来都没做过。” 
“不错，夫人，我记得德布雷先生告诉我——等一下，他怎么啦？我有三四天没看见他了。” 
“我也没看见他，”腾格拉尔夫人十分镇定自若地说，“可您那句话还没有说完。” 
“什么话？” 
“德布雷先生告诉您——” 
“啊，是的，他告诉我说，投机上的失败，您是牺牲品。” 
“我向来非常欢喜玩那一套，我承认，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“但我现在不玩了。” 
“那么您就不对，夫人。命运是个确定的。如果我是一个女人，而且有福气成了一位银行家的太太，那么不论我对丈夫的好运多么信任——因为在投机生意上，您知道，完全是运气好坏的问题——嗯，我是说不论我对丈夫的运气多么放心，我还是要弄一笔和他没有关系的财产，即使得瞒着他让旁人经手，也在所不惜。” 
腾格拉尔夫人虽然尽力自制，仍不禁脸红了一下。 
“哦，”基督山好象是没有注意到她的这种惶惑的表情说，“我听说昨天那不勒斯公债一个劲儿往上涨。” 
“我没买那种公债，我从来没有买过那种公债，我们是不是在金钱上谈得实在太多啦，伯爵。我们象是两个证券投机商了。您有没有听说过命运之神在如何迫害可怜的维尔福一家人？” 
“什么事情？”伯爵说，显得茫然不知所措。 
“圣·梅朗侯爵到巴黎来的时候，上路没有几天就死了，侯爵夫人到巴黎以后，没过几天也死了。您知道吗？” 
“是的，”基督山说，“我听说过这件事。但是，正如克劳狄斯对哈姆雷特所说的，‘这是一条自然法则，他们的父母死在他们的前头，他们哀悼他们的逝世，将来他们也要死在他们儿女的前头，于是又要轮到他们的儿女来哀悼他们了。’？ 
“但事情不光这些呢。” 
“不光这些！” 
“不，他们的女儿本来要嫁给——” 
“弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生。难道婚约解除了吗？” 
“昨天早晨，看来，弗兰兹已经谢绝了这种荣尚。” 
“真的，知不知道理由？” 
“不知道。” 
“真奇怪！这接二连三的不幸，维尔福先生怎么受得了呢？” 
“他还是照常——象一个哲学家一样。” 
这时腾格拉尔一个人回来了。 
“哎！”男爵夫人说，“你把卡瓦尔康蒂先生丢给你的女儿了吗？” 
“还有亚密莱小姐呢，”银行家说，那么你还以为她不是人吗？”然后他转身对基督山说，“卡瓦尔康蒂王子是一个很可爱的青年，对不对？可他真的是一位王子吗？” 
“我没有责任答复您，”基督山说。“他们介绍我认识他父亲的时候，据说是一位侯爵，那么他应该是一个伯爵。但我想他似乎并不非得要那个头衔。” 
“为什么？”银行家说。“如果他是一位王子，他就不应该不维持他的身份。每一个人都应该维护自己的权利，我不欢喜有什么人否认他的出身。” 
“噢！您是一个十足民主派。”基督山微笑着说。 
“可你看不出来你自己个儿的问题吗？”男爵夫人说，“如果，碰巧，马尔塞夫先生来了，他就会知道卡瓦尔康蒂先生在那个房间里，而他尽管是欧热妮的未婚夫，却从来没让他进去过。” 
“碰巧这两个字你说得恰当，”银行家说道，“因为他很少到这儿来，如果真的来了，那才叫是碰巧呢。” 
“可要是他来了，见到那个青年跟你的女儿在一起，他会不乐意呀。” 
“他！你错啦。阿尔贝先生可不会赏我们这个脸，为他的未婚妻吃醋，他爱她还到不了那个程度呢。而且，他不乐意我也不在乎。” 
“可是，按我们现在这种情况——” 
“对，你知道我们现在的情况是怎么样的吗？在他母亲的舞会上，他只跟欧热妮跳了一次，而卡瓦尔康蒂先生却跳了三次，他压根儿不在乎。” 
仆人通报马尔塞夫子爵来访。男爵夫人急忙站起来，想走到书斋里去，腾格拉尔拉住她。“别去！”他说。他吃惊地望着他。基督山好象没有注意到这些情形。阿尔贝进来了，他打扮得非常漂亮，看起来很快活。他很有礼貌地对男爵夫人鞠了一躬，对腾格拉尔如熟人一般地鞠一躬，对基督山则很亲热地鞠一躬。然后又转向男爵夫人说：“我可以问问腾格拉尔小姐好吗？” 
“她很好，”腾格拉尔连忙回答，“她现在正在她的小客厅里和卡瓦尔康蒂先生练习唱歌。” 
阿尔贝保持着他那种平静和漠不关心的样子；他也许心里气恼，但他知道基督山的眼光正盯着他。“卡瓦尔康蒂先生是一个很好的男中音，”他说，“而欧热妮小姐则是一个很棒的女高音，而且钢琴又弹得象泰尔堡［泰尔堡（一八一二—一八七一），瑞士著名钢琴家。——译注］一样妙。他们合唱起来一定是很好听的。” 
“他们两个配起来非常妙。”腾格拉尔说。 
这句话粗俗得都使腾格拉尔夫人面红耳赤，阿尔贝却好象没有注意到。 
“我也算得上是一位音乐师，”那位青年说，“起码，我的老师常常这么对我说。可说来奇怪，我的嗓子跟谁都配不上来，尤其配不上女高音。” 
腾格拉尔微笑了一下，好象是说，那没关系。然后，显然他很想取得他的效果，就说：“王子和我的女儿昨天大受赞赏。您没有来参加吧，马尔塞夫先生？” 
“什么王子？”阿尔贝问。 
“卡瓦尔康蒂王子呀。”腾格拉尔说，他坚持要这样称呼那个青年。 
“对不起，”阿尔贝说，“我可不知道他是一位王子。那么昨天卡瓦尔康蒂王子和欧热妮小姐合唱了吗？不用说，那肯定很好听。很遗憾我没有到场。但我没法接受您的邀请，因为我已经答应陪着家母去参加夏多·勒诺伯爵夫人主持的德国音乐会。”这样，在沉默了一会儿以后，马尔塞夫又说，“我可以去向腾格拉尔小姐问好吗？”好象这件事以前从未有过似的。 
“等一会儿，”银行家拦住那青年说，“您听到那支好听的小曲了吗？嗒嗒好听得很。等一下，让他们唱完再说吧！好！棒！棒哇！”银行家热烈地喝彩着。 
“确实是，”阿尔贝说，“棒得很，没有谁比卡瓦尔康蒂王子更理解他祖国的歌曲了，‘王子’是您称呼的，对不对？可即使他现在还不是，将来也很轻易做上的。这种事情在意大利不算稀奇。我们再说说那两位可爱的音乐家吧，您得款待我们一次，腾格拉尔先生。别告诉他们来了一个陌生客人，让他们再唱一首歌。听歌应该在一小段距离以外才有意思，不让人看见，也不要看见人，这样就不会打扰歌唱者，使他可以自由自在地把他的灵感全部释放出来，让他的心灵无拘无束地任意驰骋。” 
阿尔贝这种毫不上心的态度令腾格拉尔十分气恼。他把基督山拉到一边。“您觉着我们那位情人如何？”他说。 
“他看上去很冷淡！但您的话已经说出口的了。” 
“是的，当然喽，我答应把我的女儿嫁给一个爱她的男子，而不是给一个不爱她的人。即使阿尔贝跟卡瓦尔康蒂一样有钱，我也不会那么高兴地看到他娶她，他太傲慢了。” 
“噢！”基督山说，“也许是我的偏爱让我盲目，但我可以向您保证，马尔塞夫先生是个很可爱的青年，他一定会使小姐很幸福，而且他迟早都会有点造就——他父亲的地位很不错。” 
“哼！”腾格拉尔说。 
“那有什么可怀疑的？” 
“我指的是过去——过去那种贫贱的出身。” 
“但一个父亲过去的生活影响不了他的儿子。” 
“那倒是真的。” 
“来，别固执了，一个月以前，您很希望结成这门亲事。您了解我——我难过的要命。您是在我的家里遇到那个小卡瓦尔康蒂的，关于他，我再向您说一遍，我可什么一无所知。” 
“但我可知道几分。” 
“您了解过了吗？” 
“那还须得了解吗？对方是怎么样的人物，不是一眼就可以知道的吗？第一，他很有钱。” 
“这一点我可不能确定。” 
“但您对他负责的呀。” 
“负责五万里弗——小意思。” 
“他受过出色的教育。” 
“哼！”这次可是基督山这样说了。 
“他是一个音乐家。” 
“所有的意大利人都是音乐家。” 
“我说，伯爵，您对那个青年人可不公平。” 
“嗯，我承认这件事让我很不高兴，您和马尔塞夫一家人的关系已经那么长了，我真不愿意看到他这样来插在中间。” 
腾格拉尔大笑起来。“您真象是个清教徒，”他说，“那种事情可是天天都有的。” 
“但您不应该就这么毁约，马尔塞夫一家人都巴望结成这门亲事呢。” 
“真的？” 
“当然。” 
“那么让他们来把话说明白吧，您可以给他父亲个暗示，您跟那家人的关系既然这么密切。” 
“我？您是从哪儿看出来这一点的？” 
“他们的舞会上就够明显的啦。嘿，伯爵夫人，那位瞧不起人的美塞苔丝，那位傲慢的迦太罗尼亚人，她不是还挽住您的胳膊带您到花园的幽径去散了半个钟头的步吗？但她平常即使对最老的老朋友也是不轻易张口的。您愿不愿意负责去跟那位当父亲的说一说？” 
“再愿意不过了，如果您希望的话。” 
“不过这一次得把事情明确地敲定。如果他要我的女儿，让他把日期定下来，把他的条件公布出来——总之，我们或者互相谅解，或者干脆吵一架。您明白吧——不要再拖延。” 
“是的，阁下，这个事情我代您留心就是了。” 
“我并不是说很心甘情愿地在等待他，但我确实也在等待他。您知道，一个银行家必须忠实于他的诺言。”于是腾格拉尔就跟半小时前卡瓦尔康蒂先生那样叹了一口气。 
“好！棒！棒哇！”马尔塞夫模仿这位银行家的样子喝彩，因为此时正一曲终了。 
腾格拉尔开始怀疑地望着马尔塞夫，这时忽然有一个人过来向他低语了几句话。“我就回来，”银行家对基督山说，“等一下我。我也许有一件事情要对您说。” 
男爵夫人趁她丈夫出去的功夫，推开她女儿的书斋门。安德烈先生本来和欧热妮小姐一起坐在钢琴前，这时就象只弹簧一样地惊跳起来。阿尔贝微笑着向腾格拉尔小姐鞠了一躬，而小姐则不慌不乱，用她往常那种冷淡的态度还了他一礼。卡瓦尔康蒂显然十分狼狈；他向马尔塞夫鞠躬，马尔塞夫则努力以最不礼貌的神情对待他。然后阿尔贝就开始称赞腾格拉尔小姐的歌喉，而且说，他听了刚才她唱的歌之后，他很后悔昨天晚上没能来参加。 
卡瓦尔康蒂觉着一个人站在一旁很尴尬，就转过身去和基督山讲话。 
“来，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“别再唱歌和讲好听的话了，我们去喝茶吧。” 
“来吧，罗茜。”腾格拉尔小姐对她的朋友说。 
他们走进隔壁客厅里。茶已备好。他们按照英国人的规矩，加好糖，把茶匙放在他们的杯子里，正要开始要喝的功夫，门又开了，腾格拉尔显然十分激动地走进来。尤其是基督山注意到了他的这种神色，就用目光请银行家解释。“我派到希腊去打听消息的人回来了。”腾格拉尔说。 
“哦！哦！”伯爵说，“原来您就是为了这件事情出去了。” 
“是的。” 
“国王奥图还好吗？”阿尔贝以最轻松的口气问道。 
腾格拉尔并不作答，只是又向他投去一个狐疑的目光；基督山转过头去，掩饰住他脸上同情的表情，但那种表情一转眼就过去了。 
“我们一块儿回去好不好？”阿尔贝对伯爵说。 
“只要您愿意。”伯爵回答。 
阿尔贝弄不懂银行家的那种目光意味着什么，就转身去问基督山，说：“您见到他看我的那个样子吗？”基督山当然明白得十分清楚。 
“当然，”伯爵说，“但您认为他的目光里有什么特别的含意吗？” 
“我确实这么想，他说的希腊来的消息是指什么？” 
“我怎么能告诉您呢？” 
“因为我以为您在那个国家派了情报员。” 
基督山意味深长地微笑了一下。 
“别说了，”阿尔贝说，“他来了。我去恭维恭维腾格拉尔小姐的首饰，叫她父亲跟您说话。” 
“如果您一定要恭维她，最好还是恭维她的嗓子吧。”基督山说。 
“不，那是人人都会说的。” 
“我亲爱的子爵，您未免鲁莽得太可怕啦。” 
阿尔贝含笑向欧热妮走过去。这当儿，腾格拉尔把嘴巴凑到基督山的耳朵上。“您的忠告太好了，”他说，“在‘弗尔南多’和‘亚尼纳’那两个名字后面，果然包含着一段可怕的历史。” 
“真的！”基督山说。 
“是的，我可以告诉您一切，但把那个年轻人带走吧。他在这儿我有点受不了。” 
“他和我一起走。还要我叫他的父亲来看您吗？” 
“现在更有必要了。” 
“好极了。”伯爵向阿尔贝示意了一下；他们向夫人和小姐鞠躬告辞——阿尔贝对于腾格拉尔小姐那种冷淡的态度毫不在乎，基督山又给了腾格拉尔夫人一番忠告，暗示她一位银行家的太太应该对前途如何慎重打算。卡瓦尔康蒂先生恢复了他刚开始的状态。  
Chapter 77 Haidée
 SCARCELY HAD the count's horses cleared the angle of the boulevard, than Albert, turning towards the count, burst into a loud fit of laughter--much too loud in fact not to give the idea of its being rather forced and unnatural. "Well," said he, "I will ask you the same question which Charles IX. put to Catherine de Medicis, after the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, 'How have I played my little part?'" 
"To what do you allude?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"To the installation of my rival at M. Danglars'." 
"What rival?" 
"Ma foi! what rival? Why, your protege, M. Andrea Cavalcanti!" 
"Ah, no joking, viscount, if you please; I do not patronize M. Andrea--at least, not as concerns M. Danglars." 
"And you would be to blame for not assisting him, if the young man really needed your help in that quarter, but, happily for me, he can dispense with it." 
"What, do you think he is paying his addresses?" 
"I am certain of it; his languishing looks and modulated tones when addressing Mademoiselle Danglars fully proclaim his intentions. He aspires to the hand of the proud Eugénie." 
"What does that signify, so long as they favor your suit?" 
"But it is not the case, my dear count: on the contrary. I am repulsed on all sides." 
"What!" 
"It is so indeed; Mademoiselle Eugénie scarcely answers me, and Mademoiselle d'Armilly, her confidant, does not speak to me at all." 
"But the father has the greatest regard possible for you," said Monte Cristo. 
"He? Oh, no, he has plunged a thousand daggers into my heart, tragedy-weapons, I own, which instead of wounding sheathe their points in their own handles, but daggers which he nevertheless believed to be real and deadly." 
"Jealousy indicates affection." 
"True; but I am not jealous." 
"He is." 
"Of whom?--of Debray?" 
"No, of you." 
"Of me? I will engage to say that before a week is past the door will be closed against me." 
"You are mistaken, my dear viscount." 
"Prove it to me." 
"Do you wish me to do so?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, I am charged with the commission of endeavoring to induce the Comte de Morcerf to make some definite arrangement with the baron." 
"By whom are you charged?" 
"By the baron himself." 
"Oh," said Albert with all the cajolery of which he was capable. "You surely will not do that, my dear count?" 
"Certainly I shall, Albert, as I have promised to do it." 
"Well," said Albert, with a sigh, "it seems you are determined to marry me." 
"I am determined to try and be on good terms with everybody, at all events," said Monte Cristo. "But apropos of Debray, how is it that I have not seen him lately at the baron's house?" 
"There has been a misunderstanding." 
"What, with the baroness?" 
"No, with the baron." 
"Has he perceived anything?" 
"Ah, that is a good joke!" 
"Do you think he suspects?" said Monte Cristo with charming artlessness. 
"Where have you come from, my dear count?" said Albert. 
"From Congo, if you will." 
"It must be farther off than even that." 
"But what do I know of your Parisian husbands?" 
"Oh, my dear count, husbands are pretty much the same everywhere; an individual husband of any country is a pretty fair specimen of the whole race." 
"But then, what can have led to the quarrel between Danglars and Debray? They seemed to understand each other so well," said Monte Cristo with renewed energy. 
"Ah, now you are trying to penetrate into the mysteries of Isis, in which I am not initiated. When M. Andrea Cavalcanti has become one of the family, you can ask him that question." The carriage stopped. "Here we are," said Monte Cristo; "it is only half-past ten o'clock, come in." 
"Certainly I will." 
"My carriage shall take you back." 
"No, thank you; I gave orders for my coupé to follow me." 
"There it is, then," said Monte Cristo, as he stepped out of the carriage. They both went into the house; the drawing-room was lighted up--they went in there. "You will make tea for us, Baptistin," said the count. Baptistin left the room without waiting to answer, and in two seconds reappeared, bringing on a waiter all that his master had ordered, ready prepared, and appearing to have sprung from the ground, like the repasts which we read of in fairy tales. "Really, my dear count," said Morcerf. "what I admire in you is, not so much your riches, for perhaps there are people even wealthier than yourself, nor is it only your wit, for Beaumarchais might have possessed as much,--but it is your manner of being served, without any questions, in a moment, in a second; it is as it they guessed what you wanted by your manner of ringing, and made a point of keeping everything you can possibly desire in constant readiness." 
"What you say is perhaps true; they know my habits. For instance, you shall see; how do you wish to occupy yourself during tea-time?" 
"Ma foi! I should like to smoke." 
Monte Cristo took the gong and struck it once. In about the space of a second a private door opened, and Ali appeared, bringing two chibouques filled with excellent latakia. "It is quite wonderful," said Albert. 
"Oh no, it is as simple as possible," replied Monte Cristo. "Ali knows I generally smoke while I am taking my tea or coffee; he has heard that I ordered tea, and he also knows that I brought you home with me; when I summoned him he naturally guessed the reason of my doing so, and as he comes from a country where hospitality is especially manifested through the medium of smoking, he naturally concludes that we shall smoke in company, and therefore brings two chibouques instead of one--and now the mystery is solved." 
"Certainly you give a most commonplace air to your explanation, but it is not the less true that you--Ah, but what do I hear?" and Morcerf inclined his head towards the door, through which sounds seemed to issue resembling those of a guitar. 
"Ma foi! my dear viscount, you are fated to hear music this evening; you have only escaped from Mademoiselle Danglars' piano, to be attacked by Haidée's guzla." 
"Haidée--what an adorable name! Are there, then, really women who bear the name of Haidée anywhere but in Byron's poems?" 
"Certainly there are. Haidée is a very uncommon name in France, but is common enough in Albania and Epirus; it is as it you said, for example, Chastity, Modesty, Innocence,--it is a kind of baptismal name, as you Parisians call it." 
"Oh, that is charming," said Albert, "how I should like to hear my countrywomen called Mademoiselle Goodness, Mademoiselle Silence, Mademoiselle Christian Charity! Only think, then, if Mademoiselle Danglars, instead of being called Claire-Marie-Eugénie, had been named Mademoiselle Chastity-Modesty-Innocence Danglars; what a fine effect that would have produced on the announcement of her marriage!" 
"Hush," said the count, "do not joke in so loud a tone; Haidée may hear you, perhaps." 
"And you think she would be angry?" 
"No, certainly not," said the count with a haughty expression. 
"She is very amiable, then, is she not?" said Albert. 
"It is not to be called amiability, it is her duty; a slave does not dictate to a master." 
"Come; you are joking yourself now. Are there any more slaves to be had who bear this beautiful name?" 
"Undoubtedly." 
"Really, count, you do nothing, and have nothing like other people. The slave of the Count of Monte Cristo! Why, it is a rank of itself in France, and from the way in which you lavish money, it is a place that must be worth a hundred thousand francs a year." 
"A hundred thousand francs! The poor girl originally possessed much more than that; she was born to treasures in comparison with which those recorded in the Thousand and One Nights would seem but poverty." 
"She must be a princess then." 
"You are right; and she is one of the greatest in her country too." 
"I thought so. But how did it happen that such a great princess became a slave?" 
"How was it that Dionysius the Tyrant became a schoolmaster? The fortune of war, my dear viscount,--the caprice of fortune; that is the way in which these things are to be accounted for." 
"And is her name a secret?" 
"As regards the generality of mankind it is; but not for you, my dear viscount, who are one of my most intimate friends, and on whose silence I feel I may rely, if I consider it necessary to enjoin it--may I not do so?" 
"Certainly; on my word of honor." 
"You know the history of the pasha of Yanina, do you not?" 
"Of Ali Tepelini?* Oh, yes; it was in his service that my father made his fortune." 
"True, I had forgotten that." 
* Ali Pasha, "The Lion," was born at Tepelini, an Albanian village at the foot of the Klissoura Mountains, in 1741. By diplomacy and success in arms he became almost supreme ruler of Albania, Epirus, and adjacent territory. Having aroused the enmity of the Sultan, he was proscribed and put to death by treachery in 1822, at the age of eighty.--Ed. 
"Well, what is Haidée to Ali Tepelini?" 
"Merely his daughter." 
"What? the daughter of Ali Pasha?" 
"Of Ali Pasha and the beautiful Vasiliki." 
"And your slave?" 
"Ma foi! yes." 
"But how did she become so?" 
"Why, simply from the circumstance of my having bought her one day, as I was passing through the market at Constantinople." 
"Wonderful! Really, my dear count, you seem to throw a sort of magic influence over all in which you are concerned; when I listen to you, existence no longer seems reality, but a waking dream. Now, I am perhaps going to make an imprudent and thoughtless request, but"-- 
"Say on." 
"But, since you go out with Haidée, and sometimes even take her to the opera"-- 
"Well?" 
"I think I may venture to ask you this favor." 
"You may venture to ask me anything." 
"Well then, my dear count, present me to your princess." 
"I will do so; but on two conditions." 
"I accept them at once." 
"The first is, that you will never tell any one that I have granted the interview." 
"Very well," said Albert, extending his hand; "I swear I will not." 
"The second is, that you will not tell her that your father ever served hers." 
"I give you my oath that I will not." 
"Enough, viscount; you will remember those two vows, will you not? But I know you to be a man of honor." The count again struck the gong. Ali reappeared. "Tell Haidée," said he, "that I will take coffee with her, and give her to understand that I desire permission to present one of my friends to her." Ali bowed and left the room. "Now, understand me," said the count, "no direct questions, my dear Morcerf; if you wish to know anything, tell me, and I will ask her." 
"Agreed." Ali reappeared for the third time, and drew back the tapestried hanging which concealed the door, to signify to his master and Albert that they were at liberty to pass on. "Let us go in," said Monte Cristo. 
Albert passed his hand through his hair, and curled his mustache, then, having satisfied himself as to his personal appearance, followed the count into the room, the latter having previously resumed his hat and gloves. Ali was stationed as a kind of advanced guard, and the door was kept by the three French attendants, commanded by Myrtho. Haidée was awaiting her visitors in the first room of her apartments, which was the drawing-room. Her large eyes were dilated with surprise and expectation, for it was the first time that any man, except Monte Cristo, had been accorded an entrance into her presence. She was sitting on a sofa placed in an angle of the room, with her legs crossed under her in the Eastern fashion, and seemed to have made for herself, as it were, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks which enveloped her. Near her was the instrument on which she had just been playing; it was elegantly fashioned, and worthy of its mistress. On perceiving Monte Cristo, she arose and welcomed him with a smile peculiar to herself, expressive at once of the most implicit obedience and also of the deepest love. Monte Cristo advanced towards her and extended his hand, which she as usual raised to her lips. 
Albert had proceeded no farther than the door, where he remained rooted to the spot, being completely fascinated by the sight of such surpassing beauty, beheld as it was for the first time, and of which an inhabitant of more northern climes could form no adequate idea. 
"Whom do you bring?" asked the young girl in Romaic, of Monte Cristo; "is it a friend, a brother, a simple acquaintance, or an enemy." 
"A friend," said Monte Cristo in the same language. 
"What is his name?" 
"Count Albert; it is the same man whom I rescued from the hands of the banditti at Rome." 
"In what language would you like me to converse with him?" 
Monte Cristo turned to Albert. "Do you know modern Greek," asked he. 
"Alas, no," said Albert; "nor even ancient Greek, my dear count; never had Homer or Plato a more unworthy scholar than myself." 
"Then," said Haidée, proving by her remark that she had quite understood Monte Cristo's question and Albert's answer, "then I will speak either in French or Italian, if my lord so wills it." 
Monte Cristo reflected one instant. "You will speak in Italian," said he. Then, turning towards Albert,--"It is a pity you do not understand either ancient or modern Greek, both of which Haidée speaks so fluently; the poor child will be obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will give you but a very false idea of her powers of conversation." The count made a sign to Haidée to address his visitor. "Sir," she said to Morcerf, "you are most welcome as the friend of my lord and master." This was said in excellent Tuscan, and with that soft Roman accent which makes the language of Dante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turning to Ali, she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he had left the room to execute the orders of his young mistress she beckoned Albert to approach nearer to her. Monte Cristo and Morcerf drew their seats towards a small table, on which were arranged music, drawings, and vases of flowers. Ali then entered bringing coffee and chibouques; as to M. Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted to him. Albert refused the pipe which the Nubian offered him. "Oh, take it--take it," said the count; "Haidée is almost as civilized as a Parisian; the smell of an Havana is disagreeable to her, but the tobacco of the East is a most delicious perfume, you know." 
Ali left the room. The cups of coffee were all prepared, with the addition of sugar, which had been brought for Albert. Monte Cristo and Haidée took the beverage in the original Arabian manner, that is to say, without sugar. Haidée took the porcelain cup in her little slender fingers and conveyed it to her mouth with all the innocent artlessness of a child when eating or drinking something which it likes. At this moment two women entered, bringing salvers filled with ices and sherbet, which they placed on two small tables appropriated to that purpose. "My dear host, and you, signora," said Albert, in Italian, "excuse my apparent stupidity. I am quite bewildered, and it is natural that it should be so. Here I am in the heart of Paris; but a moment ago I heard the rumbling of the omnibuses and the tinkling of the bells of the lemonade-sellers, and now I feel as if I were suddenly transported to the East; not such as I have seen it, but such as my dreams have painted it. Oh, signora, if I could but speak Greek, your conversation, added to the fairy-scene which surrounds me, would furnish an evening of such delight as it would be impossible for me ever to forget." 
"I speak sufficient Italian to enable me to converse with you, sir," said Haidée quietly; "and if you like what is Eastern, I will do my best to secure the gratification of your tastes while you are here." 
"On what subject shall I converse with her?" said Albert, in a low tone to Monte Cristo. 
"Just what you please; you may speak of her country and of her youthful reminiscences, or if you like it better you can talk of Rome, Naples, or Florence." 
"Oh," said Albert, "it is of no use to be in the company of a Greek if one converses just in the same style as with a Parisian; let me speak to her of the East." 
"Do so then, for of all themes which you could choose that will be the most agreeable to her taste." Albert turned towards Haidée. "At what age did you leave Greece, signora?" asked he. 
"I left it when I was but five years old," replied Haidée. 
"And have you any recollection of your country?" 
"When I shut my eyes and think, I seem to see it all again. The mind can see as well as the body. The body forgets sometimes--but the mind never forgets." 
"And how far back into the past do your recollections extend?" 
"I could scarcely walk when my mother, who was called Vasiliki, which means royal," said the young girl, tossing her head proudly, "took me by the hand, and after putting in our purse all the money we possessed, we went out, both covered with veils, to solicit alms for the prisoners, saying, 'He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.' Then when our purse was full we returned to the palace, and without saying a word to my father, we sent it to the convent, where it was divided amongst the prisoners." 
"And how old were you at that time?" 
"I was three years old," said Haidée. 
"Then you remember everything that went on about you from the time when you were three years old?" said Albert. 
"Everything." 
"Count," said Albert, in a low tone to Monte Cristo, "do allow the signora to tell me something of her history. You prohibited my mentioning my father's name to her, but perhaps she will allude to him of her own accord in the course of the recital, and you have no idea how delighted I should be to hear our name pronounced by such beautiful lips." Monte Cristo turned to Haidée, and with an expression of countenance which commanded her to pay the most implicit attention to his words, he said in Greek,--"Tell us the fate of your father; but neither the name of the traitor nor the treason." Haidée sighed deeply, and a shade of sadness clouded her beautiful brow. 
"What are you saying to her?" said Morcerf in an undertone. 
"I again reminded her that you were a friend, and that she need not conceal anything from you." 
"Then," said Albert, "this pious pilgrimage in behalf of the prisoners was your first remembrance; what is the next?" 
"Oh, then I remember as if it were but yesterday sitting under the shade of some sycamore-trees, on the borders of a lake, in the waters of which the trembling foliage was reflected as in a mirror. Under the oldest and thickest of these trees, reclining on cushions, sat my father; my mother was at his feet, and I, childlike, amused myself by playing with his long white beard which descended to his girdle, or with the diamond-hilt of the scimitar attached to his girdle. Then from time to time there came to him an Albanian who said something to which I paid no attention, but which he always answered in the same tone of voice, either 'Kill,' or 'Pardon.'" 
"It is very strange," said Albert, "to hear such words proceed from the mouth of any one but an actress on the stage, and one needs constantly to be saying to one's self, 'This is no fiction, it is all reality,' in order to believe it. And how does France appear in your eyes, accustomed as they have been to gaze on such enchanted scenes?" 
"I think it is a fine country," said Haidée, "but I see France as it really is, because I look on it with the eyes of a woman; whereas my own country, which I can only judge of from the impression produced on my childish mind, always seems enveloped in a vague atmosphere, which is luminous or otherwise, according as my remembrances of it are sad or joyous." 
"So young," said Albert, forgetting at the moment the Count's command that he should ask no questions of the slave herself, "is it possible that you can have known what suffering is except by name?" 
Haidée turned her eyes towards Monte Cristo, who, making at the same time some imperceptible sign, murmured,--"Go on." 
"Nothing is ever so firmly impressed on the mind as the memory of our early childhood, and with the exception of the two scenes I have just described to you, all my earliest reminiscences are fraught with deepest sadness." 
"Speak, speak, signora," said Albert, "I am listening with the most intense delight and interest to all you say." 
Haidée answered his remark with a melancholy smile. "You wish me, then, to relate the history of my past sorrows?" said she. 
"I beg you to do so," replied Albert. "Well, I was but four years old when one night I was suddenly awakened by my mother. We were in the palace of Yanina; she snatched me from the cushions on which I was sleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hers filled with tears. She took me away without speaking. When I saw her weeping I began to cry too. 'Hush, child!' said she. At other times in spite of maternal endearments or threats, I had with a child's caprice been accustomed to indulge my feelings of sorrow or anger by crying as much as I felt inclined; but on this occasion there was an intonation of such extreme terror in my mother's voice when she enjoined me to silence, that I ceased crying as soon as her command was given. She bore me rapidly away. 
"I saw then that we were descending a large staircase; around us were all my mother's servants carrying trunks, bags, ornaments, jewels, purses of gold, with which they were hurrying away in the greatest distraction. 
"Behind the women came a guard of twenty men armed with long guns and pistols, and dressed in the costume which the Greeks have assumed since they have again become a nation. You may imagine there was something startling and ominous," said Haidée, shaking her head and turning pale at the mere remembrance of the scene, "in this long file of slaves and women only half-aroused from sleep, or at least so they appeared to me, who was myself scarcely awake. Here and there on the walls of the staircase, were reflected gigantic shadows, which trembled in the flickering light of the pine-torches till they seemed to reach to the vaulted roof above. 
"'Quick!' said a voice at the end of the gallery. This voice made every one bow before it, resembling in its effect the wind passing over a field of wheat, by its superior strength forcing every ear to yield obeisance. As for me, it made me tremble. This voice was that of my father. He came last, clothed in his splendid robes and holding in his hand the carbine which your emperor presented him. He was leaning on the shoulder of his favorite Selim, and he drove us all before him, as a shepherd would his straggling flock. My father," said Haidée, raising her head, "was that illustrious man known in Europe under the name of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and before whom Turkey trembled." 
Albert, without knowing why, started on hearing these words pronounced with such a haughty and dignified accent; it appeared to him as if there was something supernaturally gloomy and terrible in the expression which gleamed from the brilliant eyes of Haidée at this moment; she appeared like a Pythoness evoking a spectre, as she recalled to his mind the remembrance of the fearful death of this man, to the news of which all Europe had listened with horror. "Soon," said Haidée, "we halted on our march, and found ourselves on the borders of a lake. My mother pressed me to her throbbing heart, and at the distance of a few paces I saw my father, who was glancing anxiously around. Four marble steps led down to the water's edge, and below them was a boat floating on the tide. 
"From where we stood I could see in the middle of the lake a large blank mass; it was the kiosk to which we were going. This kiosk appeared to me to be at a considerable distance, perhaps on account of the darkness of the night, which prevented any object from being more than partially discerned. We stepped into the boat. I remember well that the oars made no noise whatever in striking the water, and when I leaned over to ascertain the cause I saw that they were muffled with the sashes of our Palikares.* Besides the rowers, the boat contained only the women, my father, mother, Selim, and myself. The Palikares had remained on the shore of the lake, ready to cover our retreat; they were kneeling on the lowest of the marble steps, and in that manner intended making a rampart of the three others, in case of pursuit. Our bark flew before the wind. 'Why does the boat go so fast?' asked I of my mother. 
* Greek militiamen in the war for independence.--Ed. 
"'Silence, child! Hush, we are flying!' I did not understand. Why should my father fly?--he, the all-powerful--he, before whom others were accustomed to fly--he, who had taken for his device, 
　 
'THEY HATE ME; THEN THEY FEAR ME!' 
It was, indeed, a flight which my father was trying to effect. I have been told since that the garrison of the castle of Yanina, fatigued with long service"-- 
Here Haidée cast a significant glance at Monte Cristo, whose eyes had been riveted on her countenance during the whole course of her narrative. The young girl then continued, speaking slowly, like a person who is either inventing or suppressing some feature of the history which he is relating. "You were saying, signora," said Albert, who was paying the most implicit attention to the recital, "that the garrison of Yanina, fatigued with long service"-- 
"Had treated with the Serasker Koorshid, who had been sent by the sultan to gain possession of the person of my father; it was then that Ali Tepelini--after having sent to the sultan a French officer in whom he reposed great confidence--resolved to retire to the asylum which he had long before prepared for himself, and which he called kataphygion, or the refuge." 
"And this officer," asked Albert, "do you remember his name, signora?" Monte Cristo exchanged a rapid glance with the young girl, which was quite unperceived by Albert. "No," said she, "I do not remember it just at this moment; but if it should occur to me presently, I will tell you." Albert was on the point of pronouncing his father's name, when Monte Cristo gently held up his finger in token of reproach; the young man recollected his promise, and was silent. 
"It was towards this kiosk that we were rowing. A ground-floor, ornamented with arabesques, bathing its terraces in the water, and another floor, looking on the lake, was all which was visible to the eye. But beneath the ground-floor, stretching out into the island, was a large subterranean cavern, to which my mother, myself, and the women were conducted. In this place were together 60,000 pouches and 200 barrels; the pouches contained 25,000,000 of money in gold, and the barrels were filled with 30,000 pounds of gunpowder. 
"Near the barrels stood Selim, my father's favorite, whom I mentioned to you just now. He stood watch day and night with a lance provided with a lighted slowmatch in his hand, and he had orders to blow up everything--kiosk, guards, women, gold, and Ali Tepelini himself--at the first signal given by my father. I remember well that the slaves, convinced of the precarious tenure on which they held their lives, passed whole days and nights in praying, crying, and groaning. As for me, I can never forget the pale complexion and black eyes of the young soldier, and whenever the angel of death summons me to another world, I am quite sure I shall recognize Selim. I cannot tell you how long we remained in this state; at that period I did not even know what time meant. Sometimes, but very rarely, my father summoned me and my mother to the terrace of the palace; these were hours of recreation for me, as I never saw anything in the dismal cavern but the gloomy countenances of the slaves and Selim's fiery lance. My father was endeavoring to pierce with his eager looks the remotest verge of the horizon, examining attentively every black speck which appeared on the lake, while my mother, reclining by his side, rested her head on his shoulder, and I played at his feet, admiring everything I saw with that unsophisticated innocence of childhood which throws a charm round objects insignificant in themselves, but which in its eyes are invested with the greatest importance. The heights of Pindus towered above us; the castle of Yanina rose white and angular from the blue waters of the lake, and the immense masses of black vegetation which, viewed in the distance, gave the idea of lichens clinging to the rocks, were in reality gigantic fir-trees and myrtles. 
"One morning my father sent for us; my mother had been crying all the night, and was very wretched; we found the pasha calm, but paler than usual. 'Take courage, Vasiliki,' said he; 'to-day arrives the firman of the master, and my fate will be decided. If my pardon be complete, we shall return triumphant to Yanina; if the news be inauspicious, we must fly this night.'--'But supposing our enemy should not allow us to do so?' said my mother. 'Oh, make yourself easy on that head,' said Ali, smiling; 'Selim and his flaming lance will settle that matter. They would be glad to see me dead, but they would not like themselves to die with me.' 
"My mother only answered by sighs to consolations which she knew did not come from my father's heart. She prepared the iced water which he was in the habit of constantly drinking,--for since his sojourn at the kiosk he had been parched by the most violent fever,--after which she anointed his white beard with perfumed oil, and lighted his chibouque, which he sometimes smoked for hours together, quietly watching the wreaths of vapor that ascended in spiral clouds and gradually melted away in the surrounding atmosphere. Presently he made such a sudden movement that I was paralyzed with fear. Then, without taking his eyes from the object which had first attracted his attention, he asked for his telescope. My mother gave it him. and as she did so, looked whiter than the marble against which she leaned. I saw my father's hand tremble. 'A boat!--two!--three!' murmured my, father;--'four!' He then arose, seizing his arms and priming his pistols. 'Vasiliki,' said he to my mother, trembling perceptibly, 'the instant approaches which will decide everything. In the space of half an hour we shall know the emperor's answer. Go into the cavern with Haidée.'--'I will not quit you,' said Vasiliki; 'if you die, my lord, I will die with you.'--'Go to Selim!' cried my father. 'Adieu, my lord,' murmured my mother, determining quietly to await the approach of death. 'Take away Vasiliki!' said my father to his Palikares. 
"As for me, I had been forgotten in the general confusion; I ran toward Ali Tepelini; he saw me hold out my arms to him, and he stooped down and pressed my forehead with his lips. Oh, how distinctly I remember that kiss!--it was the last he ever gave me, and I feel as if it were still warm on my forehead. On descending, we saw through the lattice-work several boats which were gradually becoming more distinct to our view. At first they appeared like black specks, and now they looked like birds skimming the surface of the waves. During this time, in the kiosk at my father's feet, were seated twenty Palikares, concealed from view by an angle of the wall and watching with eager eyes the arrival of the boats. They were armed with their long guns inlaid with mother-of-pearl and silver, and cartridges in great numbers were lying scattered on the floor. My father looked at his watch, and paced up and down with a countenance expressive of the greatest anguish. This was the scene which presented itself to my view as I quitted my father after that last kiss. My mother and I traversed the gloomy passage leading to the cavern. Selim was still at his post, and smiled sadly on us as we entered. We fetched our cushions from the other end of the cavern, and sat down by Selim. In great dangers the devoted ones cling to each other; and, young as I was, I quite understood that some imminent danger was hanging over our heads." 
Albert had often heard--not from his father, for he never spoke on the subject, but from strangers--the description of the last moments of the vizier of Yanina; he had read different accounts of his death, but the story seemed to acquire fresh meaning from the voice and expression of the young girl, and her sympathetic accent and the melancholy expression of her countenance at once charmed and horrified him. As to Haidée, these terrible reminiscences seemed to have overpowered her for a moment, for she ceased speaking, her head leaning on her hand like a beautiful flower bowing beneath the violence of the storm; and her eyes gazing on vacancy indicated that she was mentally contemplating the green summit of the Pindus and the blue waters of the lake of Yanina, which, like a magic mirror, seemed to reflect the sombre picture which she sketched. Monte Cristo looked at her with an indescribable expression of interest and pity. 
"Go on," said the count in the Romaic language. 
Haidée looked up abruptly, as if the sonorous tones of Monte Cristo's voice had awakened her from a dream; and she resumed her narrative. "It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, and although the day was brilliant out-of-doors, we were enveloped in the gloomy darkness of the cavern. One single, solitary light was burning there, and it appeared like a star set in a heaven of blackness; it was Selim's flaming lance. My mother was a Christian, and she prayed. Selim repeated from time to time the sacred words: 'God is great!' However, my mother had still some hope. As she was coming down, she thought she recognized the French officer who had been sent to Constantinople, and in whom my father placed so much confidence; for he knew that all the soldiers of the French emperor were naturally noble and generous. She advanced some steps towards the staircase, and listened. 'They are approaching,' said she; 'perhaps they bring us peace and liberty!'--'What do you fear, Vasiliki?' said Selim, in a voice at once so gentle and yet so proud. 'If they do not bring us peace, we will give them war; if they do not bring life, we will give them death.' And he renewed the flame of his lance with a gesture which made one think of Dionysus of Crete.* But I, being only a little child, was terrified by this undaunted courage, which appeared to me both ferocious and senseless, and I recoiled with horror from the idea of the frightful death amidst fire and flames which probably awaited us. 
* The god of fruitfulness in Grecian mythology. In Crete he was supposed to be slain in winter with the decay of vegetation and to revive in the spring. Haidée's learned reference is to the behavior of an actor in the Dionysian festivals.--Ed. 
"My mother experienced the same sensations, for I felt her tremble. 'Mamma, mamma,' said I, 'are we really to be killed?' And at the sound of my voice the slaves redoubled their cries and prayers and lamentations. 'My child,' said Vasiliki, 'may God preserve you from ever wishing for that death which to-day you so much dread!' Then, whispering to Selim, she asked what were her master's orders. 'If he send me his poniard, it will signify that the emperor's intentions are not favorable, and I am to set fire to the powder; if, on the contrary, he send me his ring, it will be a sign that the emperor pardons him, and I am to extinguish the match and leave the magazine untouched.'--'My friend,' said my mother, 'when your master's orders arrive, if it is the poniard which he sends, instead of despatching us by that horrible death which we both so much dread, you will mercifully kill us with this same poniard, will you not?'--'Yes, Vasiliki,' replied Selim tranquilly. 
"Suddenly we heard loud cries; and, listening, discerned that they were cries of joy. The name of the French officer who had been sent to Constantinople resounded on all sides amongst our Palikares; it was evident that he brought the answer of the emperor, and that it was favorable." 
"And do you not remember the Frenchman's name?" said Morcerf, quite ready to aid the memory of the narrator. Monte Cristo made a sign to him to be silent. 
"I do not recollect it," said Haidée. 
"The noise increased; steps were heard approaching nearer and nearer: they were descending the steps leading to the cavern. Selim made ready his lance. Soon a figure appeared in the gray twilight at the entrance of the cave, formed by the reflection of the few rays of daylight which had found their way into this gloomy retreat. 'Who are you?' cried Selim. 'But whoever you may be, I charge you not to advance another step.'--'Long live the emperor!' said the figure. 'He grants a full pardon to the Vizier Ali, and not only gives him his life, but restores to him his fortune and his possessions.' My mother uttered a cry of joy, and clasped me to her bosom. 'Stop,' said Selim, seeing that she was about to go out; you see I have not yet received the ring,'--'True,' said my mother. And she fell on her knees, at the same time holding me up towards heaven, as if she desired, while praying to God in my behalf, to raise me actually to his presence." 
And for the second time Haidée stopped, overcome by such violent emotion that the perspiration stood upon her pale brow, and her stifled voice seemed hardly able to find utterance, so parched and dry were her throat and lips. Monte Cristo poured a little iced water into a glass, and presented it to her, saying with a mildness in which was also a shade of command,--"Courage." 
Haidée dried her eyes, and continued: "By this time our eyes, habituated to the darkness, had recognized the messenger of the pasha,--it was a friend. Selim had also recognized him, but the brave young man only acknowledged one duty, which was to obey. 'In whose name do you come?' said he to him. 'I come in the name of our master, Ali Tepelini.'--'If you come from Ali himself,' said Selim, 'you know what you were charged to remit to me?'--'Yes,' said the messenger, 'and I bring you his ring.' At these words he raised his hand above his head, to show the token; but it was too far off, and there was not light enough to enable Selim, where he was standing, to distinguish and recognize the object presented to his view. 'I do not see what you have in your hand,' said Selim. 'Approach then,' said the messenger, 'or I will come nearer to you, if you prefer it.'--'I will agree to neither one nor the other,' replied the young soldier; 'place the object which I desire to see in the ray of light which shines there, and retire while I examine it.'--'Be it so,' said the envoy; and he retired, after having first deposited the token agreed on in the place pointed out to him by Selim. 
"Oh, how our hearts palpitated; for it did, indeed, seem to be a ring which was placed there. But was it my father's ring? that was the question. Selim, still holding in his hand the lighted match, walked towards the opening in the cavern, and, aided by the faint light which streamed in through the mouth of the cave, picked up the token. 
"'It is well,' said he, kissing it; 'it is my master's ring!' And throwing the match on the ground, he trampled on it and extinguished it. The messenger uttered a cry of joy and clapped his hands. At this signal four soldiers of the Serasker Koorshid suddenly appeared, and Selim fell, pierced by five blows. Each man had stabbed him separately, and, intoxicated by their crime, though still pale with fear, they sought all over the cavern to discover if there was any fear of fire, after which they amused themselves by rolling on the bags of gold. At this moment my mother seized me in her arms, and hurrying noiselessly along numerous turnings and windings known only to ourselves, she arrived at a private staircase of the kiosk, where was a scene of frightful tumult and confusion. The lower rooms were entirely filled with Koorshid's troops; that is to say, with our enemies. Just as my mother was on the point of pushing open a small door, we heard the voice of the pasha sounding in a loud and threatening tone. My mother applied her eye to the crack between the boards; I luckily found a small opening which afforded me a view of the apartment and what was passing within. 'What do you want?' said my father to some people who were holding a paper inscribed with characters of gold. 'What we want,' replied one, 'is to communicate to you the will of his highness. Do you see this firman?'--'I do,' said my father. 'Well, read it; he demands your head.' 
"My father answered with a loud laugh, which was more frightful than even threats would have been, and he had not ceased when two reports of a pistol were heard; he had fired them himself, and had killed two men. The Palikares, who were prostrated at my father's feet, now sprang up and fired, and the room was filled with fire and smoke. At the same instant the firing began on the other side, and the balls penetrated the boards all round us. Oh, how noble did the grand vizier my father look at that moment, in the midst of the flying bullets, his scimitar in his hand, and his face blackened with the powder of his enemies! and how he terrified them, even then, and made them fly before him! 'Selim, Selim!' cried he, 'guardian of the fire, do your duty!'--'Selim is dead,' replied a voice which seemed to come from the depths of the earth, 'and you are lost, Ali!' At the same moment an explosion was heard, and the flooring of the room in which my father was sitting was suddenly torn up and shivered to atoms--the troops were firing from underneath. Three or four Palikares fell with their bodies literally ploughed with wounds. 
"My father howled aloud, plunged his fingers into the holes which the balls had made, and tore up one of the planks entire. But immediately through this opening twenty more shots were fired, and the flame, rushing up like fire from the crater of a volcano, soon reached the tapestry, which it quickly devoured. In the midst of all this frightful tumult and these terrific cries, two reports, fearfully distinct, followed by two shrieks more heartrending than all, froze me with terror. These two shots had mortally wounded my father, and it was he who had given utterance to these frightful cries. However, he remained standing, clinging to a window. My mother tried to force the door, that she might go and die with him, but it was fastened on the inside. All around him were lying the Palikares, writhing in convulsive agonies, while two or three who were only slightly wounded were trying to escape by springing from the windows. At this crisis the whole flooring suddenly gave way. my father fell on one knee, and at the same moment twenty hands were thrust forth, armed with sabres, pistols, and poniards--twenty blows were instantaneously directed against one man, and my father disappeared in a whirlwind of fire and smoke kindled by these demons, and which seemed like hell itself opening beneath his feet. I felt myself fall to the ground, my mother had fainted." 
Haidée's arms fell by her side, and she uttered a deep groan, at the same time looking towards the count as if to ask if he were satisfied with her obedience to his commands. Monte Cristo arose and approached her, took her hand, and said to her in Romaic, "Calm yourself, my dear child, and take courage in remembering that there is a God who will punish traitors." 
"It is a frightful story, count," said Albert, terrified at the paleness of Haidée's countenance, "and I reproach myself now for having been so cruel and thoughtless in my request." 
"Oh, it is nothing," said Monte Cristo. Then, patting the young girl on the head, he continued, "Haidée is very courageous, and she sometimes even finds consolation in the recital of her misfortunes." 
"Because, my lord." said Haidée eagerly, "my miseries recall to me the remembrance of your goodness." 
Albert looked at her with curiosity, for she had not yet related what he most desired to know,--how she had become the slave of the count. Haidée saw at a glance the same expression pervading the countenances of her two auditors; she exclaimed, 'When my mother recovered her senses we were before the serasker. 'Kill,' said she, 'but spare the honor of the widow of Ali.'--'It is not to me to whom you must address yourself,' said Koorshid. 
"'To whom, then?'--'To your new master.' 
"'Who and where is he?'--'He is here.' 
"And Koorshid pointed out one who had more than any contributed to the death of my father," said Haidée, in a tone of chastened anger. "Then," said Albert, "you became the property of this man?" 
"No," replied Haidée, "he did not dare to keep us, so we were sold to some slave-merchants who were going to Constantinople. We traversed Greece, and arrived half dead at the imperial gates. They were surrounded by a crowd of people, who opened a way for us to pass, when suddenly my mother, having looked closely at an object which was attracting their attention, uttered a piercing cry and fell to the ground, pointing as she did so to a head which was placed over the gates, and beneath which were inscribed these words: 
　 
'THIS IS THE HEAD OF ALI TEPELINI, PASHA OF YANINA.' 
I cried bitterly, and tried to raise my mother from the earth, but she was dead! I was taken to the slave-market, and was purchased by a rich Armenian. He caused me to be instructed, gave me masters, and when I was thirteen years of age he sold me to the Sultan Mahmood." 
"Of whom I bought her," said Monte Cristo, "as I told you, Albert, with the emerald which formed a match to the one I had made into a box for the purpose of holding my hashish pills." 
"Oh, you are good, you are great, my lord!" said Haidée, kissing the count's hand, "and I am very fortunate in belonging to such a master!" Albert remained quite bewildered with all that he had seen and heard. "Come, finish your cup of coffee," said Monte Cristo; "the history is ended."  
伯爵的马刚驶到街道的拐角上，阿尔贝突然转身向伯爵放声大笑起来——的确，他笑得声音如此之大，好象是故意做作出来的。“喂！”他说，“叫查理九世［查理九世（一五五○—一五七四），法国国王，一五七二年以圣·巴索罗谬日，即八月二十四日。对新教徒进行大屠杀。——译注］在圣·巴索罗谬日进行大屠杀以后，曾向凯塞琳·梅迪契问过一句话，我现在也要用那句话来问问您：‘我那个小角色扮演得怎么样？’” 
“您指的是哪件事？”基督山问。 
“指在腾格拉尔先生家里对付我那位对手的样子。” 
“什么对手？” 
“嘿，问得太好了！什么对手？咦，您的被保护人安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生呀。” 
“啊！请您别开玩笑，子爵，安德烈先生并不归我保护。起码，在他和腾格拉尔先生的关系上没有这种情况。” 
“如果那个青年人真的在这个方面要您帮助的时候，您不帮他，就得让他怨了。可所幸对手是我，他可以不必作那种请求。” 
“什么！您认为他在准备求婚吗？” 
“这一点我可以肯定，他对腾格拉尔小姐讲话时那种情意浓浓的眼光和矫揉造作的语气完全暴露了他的心意。他显然想向那骄傲的欧热妮求婚。” 
“那又有什么了不起的，只要他们喜欢您。” 
“可事实并非如此，我亲爱的伯爵，刚好相反，我是前后遭夹击。” 
“前后遭夹击？” 
“没错，欧热妮小姐难得和我搭个腔，而她的密友亚密莱小姐就根本不跟我说话。” 
“可她的父亲非常敬重您。”基督山说。 
“他！噢，不！他在我的心头上扎了不知多少刀——我承认那不过是演悲剧时所用的武器，它不会刺伤人，刀尖会缩回到刀柄里去，可他却相信那是能致人命的真家伙呢。” 
“妒忌就是爱情。” 
“不错，可我并不妒忌。” 
“他恰恰在妒忌。” 
“妒忌谁——妒忌德布雷吗？” 
“不，妒忌您。” 
“妒忌我？我们可以打个赌，用不了一个星期，我就要被拒之门外了。” 
“您错了，我亲爱的子爵。” 
“请证明。” 
“您希望我给您证明吗？” 
“是的。” 
“好！我现在受托要竭力设法使马尔塞夫伯爵去和男爵把事情确定地安排一下。” 
“谁委托您的。” 
“男爵本人。” 
“噢！”阿尔贝极尽谄谀地说，“您当然不愿意干这种差使了，我亲爱的伯爵？” 
“我当然要干，阿尔贝，因为我已经答应了。” 
“唉！”阿尔贝叹了口气说，“看来您是下决心要我结婚了。” 
“我下决心要设法不论在什么事情上都和每一个人保持友好的关系，”基督山说。“但说到德布雷，我最近怎么没有在男爵的家里看到他呢？” 
“吵了一次架。” 
“什么，跟男爵夫人？” 
“不，跟男爵。” 
“难道他觉察到什么了吗？” 
“啊！这句话问得倒挺幽默！” 
“您以为他起了疑心吗？”基督山很天真地问。 
“您是从哪儿来的，我亲爱的伯爵？”阿尔贝说。 
“从刚果来的，如果您想问这个问题的话。” 
“一定比刚果还要远得多。” 
“可我怎么知道巴黎人做丈夫的作风呢？” 
“噢，我亲爱的伯爵，天下的丈夫大概处处都是一样，不管哪个国家的丈夫都可以作全人类的好标本。” 
“那么腾格拉尔和德布雷之间有什么可争吵的呢？他们好象很能互相了解。”基督山用同样的天真口气说。 
“啊！您现在想来打听阿塞丝的秘仪［阿塞丝是埃及神话里的蕃殖女神，参加女神的秘仪，据说可以窥测人们的隐私并预知未来，但只有忠实的信徒才能参加此种秘仪。——译注］了，可惜我不是当事人。安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生成为那一家的一名成员的时候，您可以拿这个问题去问他。” 
马车停住了。“我们到了，”基督山说。“现在才十点半，进去坐坐吧。” 
“十分愿意。” 
“我的马车可以送您回去。” 
“不，谢谢您，我吩咐叫我的车子跟着来的。” 
“哦，到了，”基督山一面说，一面从马车里出来。他们进了屋。客厅里已烛台高照；他们走进去。“给我们煮些茶来，巴浦斯汀。”伯爵说，巴浦斯汀不等客人回答，转身就走，两秒钟之内，他又回来了，手里捧着一只放得整整齐齐的茶盘，象是我们在童话里读到的从地底下蹦出来的食物一样。 
“真的，我亲爱的伯爵，”马尔塞夫说，“我崇拜您的倒不是您有钱——因为也许有人比您更加富有，也不仅是您的智慧——因为博马舍也许跟您差不多——而是在于您的仆人服侍您的那种方式，不用多说话，一会儿，甚至一秒钟，立刻可以办到。好象在您拉铃的时候，他们就已经猜到您想要什么了，而且凡是您可能想要的东西，都随时准备妥当了似的。” 
“您这段话也许是真的，他们知道我的习惯。譬如说，我举个例子给您，您在喝茶的时候喜欢干什么？” 
“嗯，我非常喜欢抽烟。” 
基督山在铜锣上敲了一下。没出一秒钟，一扇暗门打开了，阿里拿着两支长烟筒进来、烟筒上已装好了上等的土耳其烟丝。 
“真是神了！”阿尔贝说。 
“噢，没什么，这其实非常简单，”基督山回答。“阿里知道我平常在喝茶或喝咖啡的时候总要抽烟，他知道我吩咐备茶，他也知道我带您一起回家。我招呼他的时候，他知道我为什么要招呼他，而且由于他的国家都用烟筒待客，所以他拿了两支长烟筒来而不是只拿一支。” 
“您的解释当然很在理，不过确实也只有您——啊！那是什么声音呀！”马尔塞夫于是把他的头歪向门口，里面传出一种吉他般的声音。 
“说实话，我亲爱的子爵，您今天晚上是命中注定是要听音乐的，您刚才从腾格拉尔小姐的钢琴那儿逃开，又遭到海黛的月琴的攻击。” 
“海黛！好可爱的一个名字！那么，除了在拜伦的诗里以外，世界上真有女人叫海黛这个名字的吗？” 
“当然有。海黛这个名字在法国很不多见，但在阿尔巴尼亚和伊皮鲁斯却普通得很。这种名字就象你们称为纯洁·谦恭·天真·腾格拉尔小姐，那么印在结婚请帖上该有多好呀！” 
“轻点儿，”伯爵说，“别这么大声，海黛也许会听到的。” 
“您觉着她会不高兴吗？” 
“不，当然不。”伯爵以一种倨傲的表情说。 
“那么，她为人非常和善了，是不是？”阿尔贝说。 
“那不叫和善，而是她的本分，一个奴隶不能拂逆她的主人。” 
“喏，您现在自己又开起玩笑来了。现在还有奴隶吗？” 
“当然喽，因为海黛就是我的奴隶。” 
“真的，伯爵，您的所作所为都跟别人不一样。基督山伯爵阁下的奴隶！咦，这在法国倒是一种爵位了。据您花钱的标准来算，这个职位起码得值十万艾居一年。” 
“十万艾居！那个可怜的姑娘本来不止那个价钱。她出生在珠宝堆，《一千零一夜》里记载的那些财宝和她所拥有的一比，就显得微乎其微了。” 
“那么她一定是一位公主了？” 
“您猜对了，而且是她祖国最显赫的公主之一。” 
“我原也这么想。可这么显赫的一位公主怎么会变成一个奴隶呢？” 
“达翁苏斯［古代叙拉古的达翁苏斯王之子，失位后，流亡于可林斯，成为该地的学校教师。——译注］这个暴君怎么会变成一个小学教师呢？那是战神的安排，我亲爱的子爵——是造化捉弄人的结果。” 
“她的姓名是需要保密吗？” 
“对别人要保密，对您却用不着，我亲爱的子爵，您是我的朋友，您不会张扬出去——您愿不愿意？——如果您答应不张扬出去——” 
“噢！我用人格担保。” 
“您知道亚尼纳总督的身世吗？” 
“阿里·铁贝林吗？当然喽，家父就是在他手下服役的时候起家的呀。” 
“不错，我倒忘记那回事了。” 
“嗯！海黛是阿里·铁贝林的什么人？” 
“就是他的女儿。” 
“什么？阿里总督的女儿？” 
“阿坦克总督和美人凡瑟丽姬的女儿。” 
“给您作奴隶？” 
“是的，当然是的。” 
“但她怎么会落得这个样子呢？” 
“嗯，有一天我经过君士坦丁堡市场把她买下来的。” 
“真神了！我亲爱的伯爵，谁跟您在一起，谁就不是在生活而是在做梦了。现在，我也许可以提出一个轻率莽撞的要求，但是——” 
“请说。” 
“但是既然您和海黛一起外出过，有几次甚至带她上过戏院——” 
“怎么？” 
“我想我也许可以冒昧地请您赏我个脸。” 
“您什么都可以向我要求。” 
“好，那么，我亲爱的伯爵，介绍我见见您的公主好吗？” 
“可以照办。但有两个条件。” 
“我马上接受。” 
“第一是您绝不能告诉任何人说我允许过您和她会面。” 
“好极了，”阿尔贝举起一只手说，“我发誓绝不告诉人。” 
“第二是您绝不能告诉她，说令尊曾经在她父亲手下服役过。” 
“这一点我也可以发誓。” 
“这就行了，子爵，您会记住这两个誓言的，对不对？我知道您是一个很讲信用的人。” 
伯爵又敲了一下铜锣。阿里又进来了。“告诉海黛，”他说，“我马上就去和她一起喝咖啡，告诉她，我希望她允许我介绍我的一位朋友和她见面。”阿里鞠躬退出。 
“现在，请小心，”伯爵说，“提问题别太直接，我亲爱的马尔塞夫。如果您想知道什么事情，告诉我，我去问她。” 
“行。” 
阿里第三次进屋，掀开那张掩着门的幕，向他的主人和阿尔贝示意他们可以进去。 
“我们进去吧。”基督山说。 
阿尔贝用手理了理他的头发，卷卷他的胡子，对自己的仪表觉着满意了之后，就跟着伯爵走进那个房间；伯爵则在进屋前已重新戴上他的帽子和手套。阿里象一个前卫似的驻守在门外；门口由三个法国侍女在梅多的指挥下把守着。海黛在她那一套房间的第一个屋子里等候她的客人，这是她的客厅。她的大眼睛睁得圆圆的，露出冷静和期待的神情，因为除了基督山以外，这是她第一次跟男人见面。她坐在房间一隅的一张沙发上，按照东方人的习惯，交叉着两腿，舒舒服服地象一只小鸟躺在窠里一样，这窠用的是东方最华贵的镶花绸缎搭构成的。她的身边放着那只她刚才抚弄过的乐器；那种仪态，以及那种环境，让她显得可爱非常。一见到基督山，她就站起身来，用她所特有的那种爱和顺从的微笑迎接他。基督山朝她走过去，伸出一只手，她把那只手捧到她的嘴上。 
阿尔贝仍然站在门口，被那种罕见的美迷住了，这是他平生第一次看到这样的美，在法国，这种美是无法想象的。 
“您带来的是什么人？”那位年轻女郎用现代希腊语问基督山，“是兄弟，朋友，生疏的相识，还是仇敌？” 
“一位朋友。”基督山也用相同语言说。 
“他叫什么名字？” 
“阿尔贝子爵。就是我在罗马从强盗手里救出来的那个人。” 
“您想让我用哪一种语言和他说话？” 
基督山转向阿尔贝。“您懂现代希腊语吗？”他问。 
“唉！不懂，”阿尔贝说，“古代希腊语也不懂，我亲爱的伯爵。荷马和柏拉图的学生之中，再也找不到比我更懒惰，甚至都可以说更可鄙的了。” 
“那么，”海黛说，她说这话显然她很明白基督山和阿尔贝之间在说什么——“那么我说法语或意大利语吧，如果老爷不反对的话。” 
基督山想了一想。“你说意大利语吧，”他说。然后，又转身对阿尔贝说“可惜您不懂古代或现代希腊语，这两种语言海黛都讲得非常流利。这个可怜的孩子不得不用意大利话和您交谈了，这大概会让您对她产生一种错觉。”伯爵向海黛作了一个示意“阁下，”她对马尔塞夫说，“您既然是我主人的朋友，当然对您再欢迎不过了。”这句话是用典型的托斯卡纳土语说出的，而且带着那种柔和的罗马口音，令但丁的语言听起来跟荷马的语言一样明快悦耳。然后，她又转向阿里，吩咐他把咖啡和烟筒拿来；在阿里离开房间去执行他的年轻主妇吩咐的时候，她示意请阿尔贝走近一些。基督山和马尔塞夫把他们的椅子拖到一张小茶几前面，茶几上放着曲谱、图画和花瓶。这时阿里拿着咖啡和长烟筒进来了；至于巴浦斯汀先生，这个地方是禁止他进来的。阿尔贝不肯接受那个黑奴递给他的那支烟筒。 
“噢，接着吧，接着吧！”伯爵说。“海黛差不多也跟巴黎人一样文明，她讨厌雪茄的气味，而东方的烟草是一种香料，您知道。” 
阿里退出房间。咖啡杯都已备好，而且还有一只灰缸，是为阿尔贝特设的。基督山和海黛便按照阿拉伯人的方式喝起阿拉伯饮料，也就是不加糖。海黛用她那纤纤细手端起瓷杯，带着天真的愉快举到她的嘴边，象个小孩子吃到喝到某种她喜欢的东西似的。这时两个女人每人端着一只茶盘进来，茶盘里放着冰块和果子露，他们把茶盘放在两只特制的小桌子上。 
“我亲爱的主人，还有您，夫人，”阿尔贝用意大利语说，请别见怪我这副傻头傻脑的样子。我简直是糊涂了。我身处巴黎市中心，就在刚才，我还听到公共马车的哗哗声和卖柠檬水的小贩铃铛的响声，可这会儿我觉得我如同突然被送到了东方——并不是我见到过的东方，而是我在梦中想象出来的东方。噢，夫人，如果我能说希腊语，那么您的谈话，加上我身边这种仙境般的环境，就可以让我度过终生永不忘记的一夜了。” 
“我可以用意大利语和您谈话，阁下，”海黛平静地说，“如果您喜欢东方，我可以尽量让您在这儿找到东方的气息。” 
“我跟她谈些什么呢？”阿尔贝小声对基督山说。 
“随便什么都行。您可以跟她谈她的祖国和她幼时的回忆，或者，如果您愿意的话，也可以谈谈罗马、那不勒斯或佛罗伦萨。” 
“噢！”阿尔贝说，“跟一个希腊人谈巴黎人的话题未免太没意思了，我还是跟她谈谈东方的情况吧。” 
“那么请谈吧，您要谈的这个话题，最合她的口味不过了。” 
阿尔贝转向海黛。“您几岁的时候离开希腊的，夫人？”他问。 
“我离开希腊的时候只有五岁。”海黛回答。 
“您还有点关于您的祖国的记忆吗？” 
“在我闭上眼睛冥想的时候，我仿佛又看到了那一切，灵魂跟肉体一样也有它的视觉器官；肉眼看到的东西有时会遗忘，而灵魂见过的东西则是永远牢记的。” 
“您对于往事的回忆能追溯到多久呢？” 
“我刚能走路的时候，我的母亲——她的名字叫凡瑟丽姬，那就是‘忠贞’的意思，”这位年轻女郎自豪地昂起头说——“我的母亲，携着我的手，先把我们所有的钱都倒进钱袋里，戴上面纱，然后出去为囚犯募捐，一路走，一路说，‘谁施舍钱给穷人，就等于还债给主，’在我们的钱袋装满的时候，我们就回到宫里，对我父亲只字不提，派人送到修道院，发放给囚犯。” 
“您那时候几岁？” 
“我那时三岁。”海黛说。 
“那么您在三岁的时候，就把当时那么多事情记住了吗？” 
阿尔贝说。 
“都记得。” 
“伯爵，”阿尔贝小声对基督山说，“请允许夫人把她的身世给我讲一些听，您不许我向她提起家父的名字，可也许她在追忆往事的过程中，会不自觉地提到他，如果我们的姓能从两片这么美丽的嘴唇里说出来，您绝对想象不到我会多么的高兴。” 
基督山转向海黛，脸上以一种提醒她格外小心的表情，用希腊语说：“把你父亲的遭遇告诉我们，但不要说出那个出卖你们的人的名字，也不要讲他出卖你们的经过。” 
“您在跟她说什么？”马尔塞夫小声说。 
“我又提醒了她一次，说您是一位朋友，
Chapter 78 We hear From Yanina
 IF VALENTINE could have seen the trembling step and agitated countenance of Franz when he quitted the chamber of M. Noirtier, even she would have been constrained to pity him. Villefort had only just given utterance to a few incoherent sentences, and then retired to his study, where he received about two hours afterwards the following letter:-- 
"After all the disclosures which were made this morning, M. Noirtier de Villefort must see the utter impossibility of any alliance being formed between his family and that of M. Franz d'Epinay. M. d'Epinay must say that he is shocked and astonished that M. de Villefort, who appeared to be aware of all the circumstances detailed this morning, should not have anticipated him in this announcement." 
No one who had seen the magistrate at this moment, so thoroughly unnerved by the recent inauspicious combination of circumstances, would have supposed for an instant that he had anticipated the annoyance; although it certainly never had occurred to him that his father would carry candor, or rather rudeness, so far as to relate such a history. And in justice to Villefort, it must be understood that M. Noirtier, who never cared for the opinion of his son on any subject, had always omitted to explain the affair to Villefort, so that he had all his life entertained the belief that General de Quesnel, or the Baron d'Epinay, as he was alternately styled, according as the speaker wished to identify him by his own family name, or by the title which had been conferred on him, fell the victim of assassination, and not that he was killed fairly in a duel. This harsh letter, coming as it did from a man generally so polite and respectful, struck a mortal blow at the pride of Villefort. Hardly had he read the letter, when his wife entered. The sudden departure of Franz, after being summoned by M. Noirtier, had so much astonished every one, that the position of Madame de Villefort, left alone with the notary and the witnesses, became every moment more embarrassing. Determined to bear it no longer, she arose and left the room; saying she would go and make some inquiries into the cause of his sudden disappearance. 
M. de Villefort's communications on the subject were very limited and concise; he told her, in fact, that an explanation had taken place between M. Noirtier, M. d'Epinay, and himself, and that the marriage of Valentine and Franz would consequently be broken off. This was an awkward and unpleasant thing to have to report to those who were awaiting her return in the chamber of her father-in-law. She therefore contented herself with saying that M. Noirtier having at the commencement of the discussion been attacked by a sort of apoplectic fit, the affair would necessarily be deferred for some days longer. This news, false as it was following so singularly in the train of the two similar misfortunes which had so recently occurred, evidently astonished the auditors, and they retired without a word. During this time Valentine, at once terrified and happy, after having embraced and thanked the feeble old man for thus breaking with a single blow the chain which she had been accustomed to consider as irrefragable, asked leave to retire to her own room, in order to recover her composure. Noirtier looked the permission which she solicited. But instead of going to her own room, Valentine, having once gained her liberty, entered the gallery, and, opening a small door at the end of it. found herself at once in the garden. 
In the midst of all the strange events which had crowded one on the other, an indefinable sentiment of dread had taken possession of Valentine's mind. She expected every moment that she should see Morrel appear, pale and trembling, to forbid the signing of the contract, like the Laird of Ravenswood in "The Bride of Lammermoor." It was high time for her to make her appearance at the gate, for Maximilian had long awaited her coming. He had half guessed what was going on when he saw Franz quit the cemetery with M. de Villefort. He followed M. d'Epinay, saw him enter, afterwards go out, and then re-enter with Albert and Chateau-Renaud. He had no longer any doubts as to the nature of the conference; he therefore quickly went to the gate in the clover-patch, prepared to hear the result of the proceedings, and very certain that Valentine would hasten to him the first moment she should he set at liberty. He was not mistaken; peering through the crevices of the wooden partition, he soon discovered the young girl, who cast aside all her usual precautions and walked at once to the barrier. The first glance which Maximilian directed towards her entirely reassured him, and the first words she spoke made his heart bound with delight. 
"We are saved!" said Valentine. "Saved?" repeated Morrel, not being able to conceive such intense happiness; "by whom?" 
"By my grandfather. Oh, Morrel, pray love him for all his goodness to us!" Morrel swore to love him with all his soul; and at that moment he could safely promise to do so, for he felt as though it were not enough to love him merely as a friend or even as a father. "But tell me, Valentine, how has it all been effected? What strange means has he used to compass this blessed end?" 
Valentine was on the point of relating all that had passed, but she suddenly remembered that in doing so she must reveal a terrible secret which concerned others as well as her grandfather, and she said, "At some future time I will tell you all about it." 
"But when will that be?" 
"When I am your wife." 
The conversation had now turned upon a topic so pleasing to Morrel, that he was ready to accede to anything that Valentine thought fit to propose, and he likewise felt that a piece of intelligence such as he just heard ought to be more than sufficient to content him for one day. However, he would not leave without the promise of seeing Valentine again the next night. Valentine promised all that Morrel required of her, and certainly it was less difficult now for her to believe that she should marry Maximilian than it was an hour ago to assure herself that she should not marry Franz. During the time occupied by the interview we have just detailed, Madame de Villefort had gone to visit M. Noirtier. The old man looked at her with that stern and forbidding expression with which he was accustomed to receive her. 
"Sir," said she, "it is superfluous for me to tell you that Valentine's marriage is broken off, since it was here that the affair was concluded." Noirtier's countenance remained immovable. "But one thing I can tell you, of which I do not think you are aware; that is, that I have always been opposed to this marriage, and that the contract was entered into entirely without my consent or approbation." Noirtier regarded his daughter-in-law with the look of a man desiring an explanation. "Now that this marriage, which I know you so much disliked, is done away with, I come to you on an errand which neither M. de Villefort nor Valentine could consistently undertake." Noirtier's eyes demanded the nature of her mission. "I come to entreat you, sir," continued Madame de Villefort, "as the only one who has the right of doing so, inasmuch as I am the only one who will receive no personal benefit from the transaction,--I come to entreat you to restore, not your love, for that she has always possessed, but to restore your fortune to your granddaughter." 
There was a doubtful expression in Noirtier's eyes; he was evidently trying to discover the motive of this proceeding, and he could not succeed in doing so. "May I hope, sir," said Madame de Villefort, "that your intentions accord with my request?" Noirtier made a sign that they did. "In that case, sir," rejoined Madame de Villefort, "I will leave you overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness at your prompt acquiescence to my wishes." She then bowed to M. Noirtier and retired. 
The next day M. Noirtier sent for the notary; the first will was torn up and a second made, in which he left the whole of his fortune to Valentine, on condition that she should never be separated from him. It was then generally reported that Mademoiselle de Villefort, the heiress of the marquis and marchioness of Saint-Méran, had regained the good graces of her grandfather, and that she would ultimately be in possession of an income of 300,000 livres. 
While all the proceedings relative to the dissolution of the marriage-contract were being carried on at the house of M. de Villefort, Monte Cristo had paid his visit to the Count of Morcerf, who, in order to lose no time in responding to M. Danglars' wishes, and at the same time to pay all due deference to his position in society, donned his uniform of lieutenant-general, which he ornamented with all his crosses, and thus attired, ordered his finest horses and drove to the Rue de la Chausse d'Antin. 
Danglars was balancing his monthly accounts, and it was perhaps not the most favorable moment for finding him in his best humor. At the first sight of his old friend, Danglars assumed his majestic air, and settled himself in his easy-chair. Morcerf, usually so stiff and formal, accosted the banker in an affable and smiling manner, and, feeling sure that the overture he was about make would be well received, he did not consider it necessary to adopt any manoeuvres in order to gain his end, but went at once straight to the point. 
"Well, baron," said he, "here I am at last; some time has elapsed since our plans were formed, and they are not yet executed." Morcerf paused at these words, quietly waiting till the cloud should have dispersed which had gathered on the brow of Danglars, and which he attributed to his silence; but, on the contrary, to his great surprise, it grew darker and darker. "To what do you allude, monsieur?" said Danglars; as if he were trying in vain to guess at the possible meaning of the general's words. 
"Ah," said Morcerf, "I see you are a stickler for forms, my dear sir, and you would remind me that the ceremonial rites should not be omitted. Ma foi! I beg your pardon, but as I have but one son, and it is the first time I have ever thought of marrying him, I am still serving my apprenticeship, you know; come, I will reform." And Morcerf with a forced smile arose, and, making a low bow to M. Danglars, said: "Baron, I have the honor of asking of you the hand of Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars for my son, the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf." 
But Danglars, instead of receiving this address in the favorable manner which Morcerf had expected, knit his brow, and without inviting the count, who was still standing, to take a seat. he said: "Monsieur, it will be necessary to reflect before I give you an answer." 
"To reflect?" said Morcerf, more and more astonished; "have you not had enough time for reflection during the eight years which have elapsed since this marriage was first discussed between us?" 
"Count," said the banker, "things are constantly occurring in the world to induce us to lay aside our most established opinions, or at all events to cause us to remodel them according to the change of circumstances, which may have placed affairs in a totally different light to that in which we at first viewed them." 
"I do not understand you, baron," said Morcerf. 
"What I mean to say is this, sir,--that during the last fortnight unforeseen circumstances have occurred"-- 
"Excuse me," said Morcerf, "but is it a play we are acting?" 
"A play?" 
"Yes, for it is like one; pray let us come more to the point, and endeavor thoroughly to understand each other." 
"That is quite my desire." 
"You have seen M. de Monte Cristo have you not?" 
"I see him very often," said Danglars, drawing himself up; "he is a particular friend of mine." 
"Well, in one of your late conversations with him, you said that I appeared to be forgetful and irresolute concerning this marriage, did you not?" 
"I did say so." 
"Well, here I am, proving at once that I am really neither the one nor the other, by entreating you to keep your promise on that score." 
Danglars did not answer. "Have you so soon changed your mind," added Morcerf, "or have you only provoked my request that you may have the pleasure of seeing me humbled?" Danglars, seeing that if he continued the conversation in the same tone in which he had begun it, the whole thing might turn out to his own disadvantage, turned to Morcerf, and said: "Count, you must doubtless be surprised at my reserve, and I assure you it costs me much to act in such a manner towards you; but, believe me when I say that imperative necessity has imposed the painful task upon me." 
"These are all so many empty words, my dear sir," said Morcerf: "they might satisfy a new acquaintance, but the Comte de Morcerf does not rank in that list; and when a man like him comes to another, recalls to him his plighted word, and this man fails to redeem the pledge, he has at least a right to exact from him a good reason for so doing." Danglars was a coward, but did not wish to appear so; he was piqued at the tone which Morcerf had just assumed. "I am not without a good reason for my conduct," replied the banker. 
"What do you mean to say?" 
"I mean to say that I have a good reason, but that it is difficult to explain." 
"You must be aware, at all events, that it is impossible for me to understand motives before they are explained to me; but one thing at least is clear, which is, that you decline allying yourself with my family." 
"No, sir," said Danglars; "I merely suspend my decision, that is all." 
"And do you really flatter yourself that I shall yield to all your caprices, and quietly and humbly await the time of again being received into your good graces?" 
"Then, count, if you will not wait, we must look upon these projects as if they had never been entertained." The count bit his lips till the blood almost started, to prevent the ebullition of anger which his proud and irritable temper scarcely allowed him to restrain; understanding, however, that in the present state of things the laugh would decidedly be against him, he turned from the door, towards which he had been directing his steps, and again confronted the banker. A cloud settled on his brow, evincing decided anxiety and uneasiness, instead of the expression of offended pride which had lately reigned there. "My dear Danglars," said Morcerf, "we have been acquainted for many years, and consequently we ought to make some allowance for each other's failings. You owe me an explanation, and really it is but fair that I should know what circumstance has occurred to deprive my son of your favor." 
"It is from no personal ill-feeling towards the viscount, that is all I can say, sir," replied Danglars, who resumed his insolent manner as soon as he perceived that Morcerf was a little softened and calmed down. "And towards whom do you bear this personal ill-feeling, then?" said Morcerf, turning pale with anger. The expression of the count's face had not remained unperceived by the banker; he fixed on him a look of greater assurance than before, and said: "You may, perhaps, be better satisfied that I should not go farther into particulars." 
A tremor of suppressed rage shook the whole frame of the count, and making a violent effort over himself, he said: "I have a right to insist on your giving me an explanation. Is it Madame de Morcerf who has displeased you? Is it my fortune which you find insufficient? Is it because my opinions differ from yours?" 
"Nothing of the kind, sir," replied Danglars: "if such had been the case, I only should have been to blame, inasmuch as I was aware of all these things when I made the engagement. No, do not seek any longer to discover the reason. I really am quite ashamed to have been the cause of your undergoing such severe self-examination; let us drop the subject, and adopt the middle course of delay, which implies neither a rupture nor an engagement. Ma foi! there is no hurry. My daughter is only seventeen years old, and your son twenty-one. While we wait, time will be progressing, events will succeed each other; things which in the evening look dark and obscure, appear but too clearly in the light of morning, and sometimes the utterance of one word, or the lapse of a single day, will reveal the most cruel calumnies." 
"Calumnies, did you say, sir?" cried Morcerf, turning livid with rage. "Does any one dare to slander me?" 
"Monsieur, I told you that I considered it best to avoid all explanation." 
"Then, sir, I am patiently to submit to your refusal?" 
"Yes, sir, although I assure you the refusal is as painful for me to give as it is for you to receive, for I had reckoned on the honor of your alliance, and the breaking off of a marriage contract always injures the lady more than the gentleman." 
"Enough, sir," said Morcerf, "we will speak no more on the subject." And clutching his gloves in anger, he left the apartment. Danglars observed that during the whole conversation Morcerf had never once dared to ask if it was on his own account that Danglars recalled his word. That evening he had a long conference with several friends; and M. Cavalcanti, who had remained in the drawing-room with the ladies, was the last to leave the banker's house. 
The next morning, as soon as he awoke, Danglars asked for the newspapers; they were brought to him; he laid aside three or four, and at last fixed on the Impartial, the paper of which Beauchamp was the chief editor. He hastily tore off the cover, opened the journal with nervous precipitation, passed contemptuously over the Paris jottings, and arriving at the miscellaneous intelligence, stopped with a malicious smile, at a paragraph headed "We hear from Yanina." 
"Very good," observed Danglars, after having read the paragraph; "here is a little article on Colonel Fernand, which, if I am not mistaken, would render the explanation which the Comte de Morcerf required of me perfectly unnecessary." 
At the same moment, that is, at nine o'clock in the morning, Albert de Morcerf, dressed in a black coat buttoned up to his chin, might have been seen walking with a quick and agitated step in the direction of Monte Cristo's house in the Champs Elysées. When he presented himself at the gate the porter informed him that the Count had gone out about half an hour previously. "Did he take Baptistin with him?" 
"No, my lord." 
"Call him, then; I wish to speak to him." The concièrge went to seek the valet de chambre, and returned with him in an instant. 
"My good friend," said Albert, "I beg pardon for my intrusion, but I was anxious to know from your own mouth if your master was really out or not." 
"He is really out, sir," replied Baptistin. 
"Out, even to me?" 
"I know how happy my master always is to receive the vicomte," said Baptistin; "and I should therefore never think of including him in any general order." 
"You are right; and now I wish to see him on an affair of great importance. Do you think it will be long before he comes in?" 
"No, I think not, for he ordered his breakfast at ten o'clock." 
"Well, I will go and take a turn in the Champs Elysées, and at ten o'clock I will return here; meanwhile, if the count should come in, will you beg him not to go out again without seeing me?" 
"You may depend on my doing so, sir," said Baptistin. 
Albert left the cab in which he had come at the count's door, intending to take a turn on foot. As he was passing the Allée des Veuves, he thought he saw the count's horses standing at Gosset's shooting-gallery; he approached, and soon recognized the coachman. "Is the count shooting in the gallery?" said Morcerf. 
"Yes, sir," replied the coachman. While he was speaking, Albert had heard the report of two or three pistol-shots. He entered, and on his way met the waiter. "Excuse me, my lord," said the lad; "but will you have the kindness to wait a moment?" 
"What for, Philip?" asked Albert, who, being a constant visitor there, did not understand this opposition to his entrance. 
"Because the person who is now in the gallery prefers being alone, and never practices in the presence of any one." 
"Not even before you, Philip? Then who loads his pistol?" 
"His servant." 
"A Nubian?" 
"A negro." 
"It is he, then." 
"Do you know this gentleman?" 
"Yes, and I am come to look for him; he is a friend of mine." 
"Oh, that is quite another thing, then. I will go immediately and inform him of your arrival." And Philip, urged by his own curiosity, entered the gallery; a second afterwards, Monte Cristo appeared on the threshold. "I ask your pardon, my dear count," said Albert, "for following you here, and I must first tell you that it was not the fault of your servants that I did so; I alone am to blame for the indiscretion. I went to your house, and they told me you were out, but that they expected you home at ten o'clock to breakfast. I was walking about in order to pass away the time till ten o'clock, when I caught sight of your carriage and horses." 
"What you have just said induces me to hope that you intend breakfasting with me." 
"No, thank you, I am thinking of other things besides breakfast just now; perhaps we may take that meal at a later hour and in worse company." 
"What on earth are you talking of?" 
"I am to fight to-day." 
"For what?" 
"I am going to fight"-- 
"Yes, I understand that, but what is the quarrel? People fight for all sorts of reasons, you know."- 
"I fight in the cause of honor." 
"Ah, that is something serious." 
"So serious, that I come to beg you to render me a service." 
"What is it?" 
"To be my second." 
"That is a serious matter, and we will not discuss it here; let us speak of nothing till we get home. Ali, bring me some water." The count turned up his sleeves, and passed into the little vestibule where the gentlemen were accustomed to wash their hands after shooting. "Come in, my lord," said Philip in a low tone, "and I will show you something droll." Morcerf entered, and in place of the usual target, he saw some playing-cards fixed against the wall. At a distance Albert thought it was a complete suit, for he counted from the ace to the ten. "Ah, ha," said Albert, "I see you were preparing for a game of cards." 
"No," said the count, "I was making a suit." 
"How?" said Albert. 
"Those are really aces and twos which you see, but my shots have turned them into threes, fives, sevens, eights, nines, and tens." Albert approached. In fact, the bullets had actually pierced the cards in the exact places which the painted signs would otherwise have occupied, the lines and distances being as regularly kept as if they had been ruled with pencil. 
"Diable!" said Morcerf. 
"What would you have, my dear viscount?" said Monte Cristo, wiping his hands on the towel which Ali had brought him; "I must occupy my leisure moments in some way or other. But come, I am waiting for you." Both men entered Monte Cristo's carriage, which in the course of a few minutes deposited them safely at No. 30. Monte Cristo took Albert into his study, and pointing to a seat, placed another for himself. "Now let us talk the matter over quietly," said the count. 
"You see I am perfectly composed," said Albert. 
"With whom are you going to fight?" 
"With Beauchamp." 
"One of your friends!" 
"Of course; it is always with friends that one fights." 
"I suppose you have some cause of quarrel?" 
"I have." 
"What has he done to you?" 
"There appeared in his journal last night--but wait, and read for yourself." And Albert handed over the paper to the count, who read as follows:-- 
"A correspondent at Yanina informs us of a fact of which until now we had remained in ignorance. The castle which formed the protection of the town was given up to the Turks by a French officer named Fernand, in whom the grand vizier, Ali Tepelini, had reposed the greatest confidence." 
"Well," said Monte Cristo, "what do you see in that to annoy you?" 
"What do I see in it?" 
"Yes; what does it signify to you if the castle of Yanina was given up by a French officer?" 
"It signifies to my father, the Count of Morcerf, whose Christian name is Fernand!" 
"Did your father serve under Ali Pasha?" 
"Yes; that is to say, he fought for the independence of the Greeks, and hence arises the calumny." 
"Oh, my dear viscount, do talk reason!" 
"I do not desire to do otherwise." 
"Now, just tell me who the devil should know in France that the officer Fernand and the Count of Morcerf are one and the same person? and who cares now about Yanina, which was taken as long ago as the year 1822 or 1823?" 
"That just shows the meanness of this slander. They have allowed all this time to elapse, and then all of a sudden rake up events which have been forgotten to furnish materials for scandal, in order to tarnish the lustre of our high position. I inherit my father's name, and I do not choose that the shadow of disgrace should darken it. I am going to Beauchamp, in whose journal this paragraph appears, and I shall insist on his retracting the assertion before two witnesses." 
"Beauchamp will never retract." 
"Then he must fight." 
"No he will not, for he will tell you, what is very true, that perhaps there were fifty officers in the Greek army bearing the same name." 
"We will fight, nevertheless. I will efface that blot on my father's character. My father, who was such a brave soldier, whose career was so brilliant"-- 
"Oh, well, he will add, 'We are warranted in believing that this Fernand is not the illustrious Count of Morcerf, who also bears the same Christian name.'" 
"I am determined not to be content with anything short of an entire retractation." 
"And you intend to make him do it in the presence of two witnesses, do you?" 
"Yes." 
"You do wrong." 
"Which means, I suppose, that you refuse the service which I asked of you?" 
"You know my theory regarding duels; I told you my opinion on that subject, if you remember, when we were at Rome." 
"Nevertheless, my dear count, I found you this morning engaged in an occupation but little consistent with the notions you profess to entertain." 
"Because, my dear fellow, you understand one must never be eccentric. If one's lot is cast among fools, it is necessary to study folly. I shall perhaps find myself one day called out by some harebrained scamp, who has no more real cause of quarrel with me than you have with Beauchamp; he may take me to task for some foolish trifle or other, he will bring his witnesses, or will insult me in some public place, and I am expected to kill him for all that." 
"You admit that you would fight, then? Well, if so, why do you object to my doing so?" 
"I do not say that you ought not to fight, I only say that a duel is a serious thing, and ought not to be undertaken without due reflection." 
"Did he reflect before he insulted my father?" 
"If he spoke hastily, and owns that he did so, you ought to be satisfied." 
"Ah, my dear count, you are far too indulgent." 
"And you are far too exacting. Supposing, for instance, and do not be angry at what I am going to say"-- 
"Well." 
"Supposing the assertion to be really true?" 
"A son ought not to submit to such a stain on his father's honor." 
"Ma foi! we live in times when there is much to which we must submit." 
"That is precisely the fault of the age." 
"And do you undertake to reform it?" 
"Yes, as far as I am personally concerned." 
"Well, you the indeed exacting, my dear fellow!" 
"Yes, I own it." 
"Are you quite impervious to good advice?" 
"Not when it comes from a friend." 
"And do you account me that title?" 
"Certainly I do." 
"Well, then, before going to Beauchamp with your witnesses, seek further information on the subject." 
"From whom?" 
"From Haidée." 
"Why, what can be the use of mixing a woman up in the affair?--what can she do in it?" 
"She can declare to you, for example, that your father had no hand whatever in the defeat and death of the vizier; or if by chance he had, indeed, the misfortune to"-- 
"I have told you, my dear count, that I would not for one moment admit of such a proposition." 
"You reject this means of information, then?" 
"I do--most decidedly." 
"Then let me offer one more word of advice." 
"Do so, then, but let it be the last." 
"You do not wish to hear it, perhaps?" 
"On the contrary, I request it." 
"Do not take any witnesses with you when you go to Beauchamp--visit him alone." 
"That would be contrary to all custom." 
"Your case is not an ordinary one." 
"And what is your reason for advising me to go alone?" 
"Because then the affair will rest between you and Beauchamp." 
"Explain yourself." 
"I will do so. If Beauchamp be disposed to retract, you ought at least to give him the opportunity of doing it of his own free will,--the satisfaction to you will be the same. If, on the contrary, he refuses to do so, it will then be quite time enough to admit two strangers into your secret." 
"They will not be strangers, they will be friends." 
"Ah, but the friends of to-day are the enemies of to-morrow; Beauchamp, for instance." 
"So you recommend"-- 
"I recommend you to be prudent." 
"Then you advise me to go alone to Beauchamp?" 
"I do, and I will tell you why. When you wish to obtain some concession from a man's self-love, you must avoid even the appearance of wishing to wound it." 
"I believe you are right." 
"I am glad of it." 
"Then I will go alone." 
"Go; but you would do better still by not going at all." 
"That is impossible." 
"Do so, then; it will be a wiser plan than the first which you proposed." 
"But if, in spite of all my precautions, I am at last obliged to fight, will you not be my second?" 
"My dear viscount," said Monte Cristo gravely, "you must have seen before to-day that at all times and in all places I have been at your disposal, but the service which you have just demanded of me is one which it is out of my power to render you." 
"Why?" 
"Perhaps you may know at some future period, and in the mean time I request you to excuse my declining to put you in possession of my reasons." 
"Well, I will have Franz and Chateau-Renaud; they will be the very men for it." 
"Do so, then." 
"But if I do fight, you will surely not object to giving me a lesson or two in shooting and fencing?" 
"That, too, is impossible." 
"What a singular being you are!--you will not interfere in anything." 
"You are right--that is the principle on which I wish to act." 
"We will say no more about it, then. Good-by, count." Morcerf took his hat, and left the room. He found his carriage at the door, and doing his utmost to restrain his anger he went at once to find Beauchamp, who was in his office. It was a gloomy, dusty-looking apartment, such as journalists' offices have always been from time immemorial. The servant announced M. Albert de Morcerf. Beauchamp repeated the name to himself, as though he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright, and then gave orders for him to be admitted. Albert entered. Beauchamp uttered an exclamation of surprise on seeing his friend leap over and trample under foot all the newspapers which were strewed about the room. "This way, this way, my dear Albert!" said he, holding out his hand to the young man. "Are you out of your senses, or do you come peaceably to take breakfast with me? Try and find a seat--there is one by that geranium, which is the only thing in the room to remind me that there are other leaves in the world besides leaves of paper." 
"Beauchamp," said Albert, "it is of your journal that I come to speak." 
"Indeed? What do you wish to say about it?" 
"I desire that a statement contained in it should be rectified." 
"To what do you refer? But pray sit down." 
"Thank you," said Albert, with a cold and formal bow. 
"Will you now have the kindness to explain the nature of the statement which has displeased you?" 
"An announcement has been made which implicates the honor of a member of my family." 
"What is it?" said Beauchamp, much surprised; "surely you must be mistaken." 
"The story sent you from Yanina." 
"Yanina?" 
"Yes; really you appear to be totally ignorant of the cause which brings me here." 
"Such is really the case, I assure you, upon my honor! Baptiste, give me yesterday's paper," cried Beauchamp. 
"Here, I have brought mine with me," replied Albert. 
Beauchamp took the paper, and read the article to which Albert pointed in an undertone. "You see it is a serious annoyance," said Morcerf, when Beauchamp had finished the perusal of the paragraph. "Is the officer referred to a relation of yours, then?" demanded the journalist. 
"Yes," said Albert, blushing. 
"Well, what do you wish me to do for you?" said Beauchamp mildly. 
"My dear Beauchamp, I wish you to contradict this statement." Beauchamp looked at Albert with a benevolent expression. 
"Come," said he, "this matter will want a good deal of talking over; a retractation is always a serious thing, you know. Sit down, and I will read it again." Albert resumed his seat, and Beauchamp read, with more attention than at first, the lines denounced by his friend. "Well," said Albert in a determined tone, "you see that your paper his insulted a member of my family, and I insist on a retractation being made." 
"You insist?" 
"Yes, I insist." 
"Permit me to remind you that you are not in the Chamber, my dear Viscount." 
"Nor do I wish to be there," replied the young man, rising. "I repeat that I am determined to have the announcement of yesterday contradicted. You have known me long enough," continued Albert, biting his lips convulsively, for he saw that Beauchamp's anger was beginning to rise,--"you have been my friend, and therefore sufficiently intimate with me to be aware that I am likely to maintain my resolution on this point." 
"If I have been your friend, Morcerf, your present manner of speaking would almost lead me to forget that I ever bore that title. But wait a moment, do not let us get angry, or at least not yet. You are irritated and vexed--tell me how this Fernand is related to you?" 
"He is merely my father," said Albert--"M. Fernand Mondego, Count of Morcerf, an old soldier who has fought in twenty battles and whose honorable scars they would denounce as badges of disgrace." 
"Is it your father?" said Beauchamp; "that is quite another thing. Then can well understand your indignation, my dear Albert. I will look at it again;" and he read the paragraph for the third time, laying a stress on each word as he proceeded. "But the paper nowhere identifies this Fernand with your father." 
"No; but the connection will be seen by others, and therefore I will have the article contradicted." 
At the words I will, Beauchamp steadily raised his eyes to Albert's countenance, and then as gradually lowering them, he remained thoughtful for a few moments. "You will retract this assertion, will you not, Beauchamp?" said Albert with increased though stifled anger. 
"Yes," replied Beauchamp. 
"Immediately?" said Albert. 
"When I am convinced that the statement is false." 
"What?" 
"The thing is worth looking into, and I will take pains to investigate the matter thoroughly." 
"But what is there to investigate, sir?" said Albert, enraged beyond measure at Beauchamp's last remark. "If you do not believe that it is my father, say so immediately; and if, on the contrary, you believe it to be him, state your reasons for doing so." Beauchamp looked at Albert with the smile which was so peculiar to him, and which in its numerous modifications served to express every varied emotion of his mind. "Sir," replied he, "if you came to me with the idea of demanding satisfaction, you should have gone at once to the point, and not have entertained me with the idle conversation to which I have been patiently listening for the last half hour. Am I to put this construction on your visit?" 
"Yes, if you will not consent to retract that infamous calumny." 
"Wait a moment--no threats, if you please, M. Fernand Mondego, Vicomte de Morcerf; I never allow them from my enemies, and therefore shall not put up with them from my friends. You insist on my contradicting the article relating to General Fernand, an article with which, I assure you on my word of honor, I had nothing whatever to do?" 
"Yes, I insist on it," said Albert, whose mind was beginning to get bewildered with the excitement of his feelings. 
"And if I refuse to retract, you wish to fight, do you?" said Beauchamp in a calm tone. 
"Yes," replied Albert, raising his voice. 
"Well," said Beauchamp, "here is my answer, my dear sir. The article was not inserted by me--I was not even aware of it; but you have, by the step you have taken, called my attention to the paragraph in question, and it will remain until it shall be either contradicted or confirmed by some one who has a right to do so." 
"Sir," said Albert, rising, "I will do myself the honor of sending my seconds to you, and you will be kind enough to arrange with them the place of meeting and the weapons." 
"Certainly, my dear sir." 
"And this evening, if you please, or to-morrow at the latest, we will meet." 
"No, no, I will be on the ground at the proper time; but in my opinion (and I have a right to dictate the preliminaries, as it is I who have received the provocation)--in my opinion the time ought not to be yet. I know you to be well skilled in the management of the sword, while I am only moderately so; I know, too, that you are a good marksman--there we are about equal. I know that a duel between us two would be a serious affair, because you are brave, and I am brave also. I do not therefore wish either to kill you, or to be killed myself without a cause. Now, I am going to put a question to you, and one very much to the purpose too. Do you insist on this retractation so far as to kill me if I do not make it, although I have repeated more than once, and affirmed on my honor, that I was ignorant of the thing with which you charge me, and although I still declare that it is impossible for any one but you to recognize the Count of Morcerf under the name of Fernand?" 
"I maintain my original resolution." 
"Very well, my dear sir; then I consent to cut throats with you. But I require three weeks' preparation; at the end of that time I shall come and say to you, 'The assertion is false, and I retract it,' or 'The assertion is true,' when I shall immediately draw the sword from its sheath, or the pistols from the case, whichever you please." 
"Three weeks!" cried Albert; "they will pass as slowly as three centuries when I am all the time suffering dishonor." "Had you continued to remain on amicable terms with me, I should have said, 'Patience, my friend;' but you have constituted yourself my enemy, therefore I say, 'What does that signify to me, sir?'" 
"Well, let it be three weeks then," said Morcerf; "but remember, at the expiration of that time no delay or subterfuge will justify you in"-- 
"M. Albert de Morcerf," said Beauchamp, rising in his turn, "I cannot throw you out of window for three weeks--that is to say, for twenty-four days to come--nor have you any right to split my skull open till that time has elapsed. To-day is the 29th of August; the 21st of September will, therefore, be the conclusion of the term agreed on, and till that time arrives--and it is the advice of a gentleman which I am about to give you--till then we will refrain from growling and barking like two dogs chained within sight of each other." When he had concluded his speech, Beauchamp bowed coldly to Albert, turned his back upon him, and went to the press-room. 
Albert vented his anger on a pile of newspapers, which he sent flying all over the office by switching them violently with his stick; after which ebullition he departed--not, however, without walking several times to the door of the press-room, as if he had half a mind to enter. While Albert was lashing the front of his carriage in the same manner that he had the newspapers which were the innocent agents of his discomfiture, as he was crossing the barrier he perceived Morrel, who was walking with a quick step and a bright eye. He was passing the Chinese Baths, and appeared to have come from the direction of the Porte Saint-Martin, and to be going towards the Madeleine. "Ah," said Morcerf, "there goes a happy man!" And it so happened Albert was not mistaken in his opinion.  
如果瓦朗蒂娜能看到弗兰兹离开诺瓦蒂埃先生房间时的那种的脚步和神色，她甚至也会对他产生怜悯。维尔福说了几句前言不搭后语的话，就回到他自己的书房，大约过了两小时，他收到下面的这封信：“今晨的那一番揭露以后，诺瓦蒂埃·维尔福先生一定已经看出了：他的家庭和弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生的家庭联姻是不可能的了。弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生感到维尔福先生好像早已经知道今天早晨所讲的那件事，但毕竟没有料到会出现这么一种宣布，弗兰兹先生深表震惊。” 
而这时谁要是看见这位法官大人，见到他被搞得垂头丧气的模样，他就会相信维尔福没预料到会出现这种结局；的确，他怎么也想不到他父亲竟会坦白或冒失到讲出这么一段历史来。说句公道话，维尔福一直相信奎斯奈尔将军或伊皮奈男爵——这两种称呼都有人用，那个说话的人愿意称呼他的家名或者称呼他的爵衔而定——是被人暗杀掉的而不是在一场公平的决斗中被对手杀死的；因为诺瓦蒂埃先生不论做什么事情上都从来不顾及儿子的意见，那件事他从来没有向维尔福说明过。这封措词严厉的信对维尔福的自尊心是一个致命的打击，因为在此之前，写这封信的人从来都是如此之温文尔雅。 
维尔福刚回到他的书房，他的妻子就进来了。弗兰兹在诺瓦蒂埃先生召见之后的不辞而别使每一个人都非常吃惊，维尔福夫人一个人和公证人以见证人在一起，她此时愈来愈觉着迷惑不解。她再也忍受不了，便起身离开，说她要去问问理由。维尔福先生对这件事只是说诺瓦蒂埃先生向伊皮奈先生和他作了一番解释，瓦朗蒂娜和弗兰兹的婚姻即将因此破裂了。用这件理由去向那些等着她回去的人汇报未免太说不过去了。所以她只说诺瓦蒂埃先生在开始商讨的时候突然昏了过去，签约仪式要推迟几天才能举行。这个消息虽然是编造的，但是紧跟着那两件同样的不幸事件之后宣布出来的，显然把听的人惊呆了，他们一言不发地告退了，此时此刻，瓦朗蒂娜真是又惊又喜，她拥抱着那个衰弱的老人，感谢他这么一下子就解除了那条她以前一直认为无法摆脱的枷锁，然后请求让她回到自己的屋里去休息一下；诺瓦蒂埃表示他可以答应她的要求。但瓦朗蒂娜一但获得自由，却并没有回到她自己的屋里去，她转进一条走廊里，打开走廊一头的一扇小门，马上就到了花园里。在这种种接连来到的怪事发生的过程中，瓦朗蒂娜的脑子里老是存有一个极为不安的念头。她感觉莫雷尔随时都能带着苍白的脸色和颤抖的身子出现，来阻止婚约的签订，象《拉马摩尔的新娘》［英国十九世纪小说家司各特的历史小说。——译注］一书中的莱文斯乌德爵士一样。瓦朗蒂娜此时的确也应该到后门口去一下了。马西米兰看到弗兰兹和维尔福先生一起离开了坟场，就已经料到了他们的心境。他跟着伊皮奈先生，见他进去，出来，然后又带着阿尔贝和夏多·勒诺进去。事情已经再明白不过了。 
他急忙赶到他的菜园里去等候消息——因为瓦朗蒂娜一有脱身的机会，一定就会赶来见他。他的料想没有错，他从木板缝里瞧见那位年轻女郎摆脱了往常那种小心严严的样子，风风火火向他奔来。马西米兰一见到她，就完全放了心；而她说出第一句话又使他的心喜悦得猛跳起来。 
“我们得救啦！”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“得救啦！”莫雷尔随声说，他想象不到竟能有这样的快乐。“谁救我们？” 
“我的祖父。噢，莫雷尔！爱他吧，是他给了我们这种种好运！” 
莫雷尔发誓要用全部的灵魂去爱他。他做这个誓言毫不勉强，因为他此时觉着爱诺瓦蒂埃超过了朋友和父亲——他把他崇拜得如同一位天神。 
“不过告诉我，瓦朗蒂娜，这事是怎么弄成的呢？他用的是什么奇特的方法呢？” 
瓦朗蒂娜正想把一切经过讲出来，但忽然又意识到，如果那么做，就必须泄露一个可怕的秘密，而这个秘密不但牵连到别人，而且也牵涉到她的祖父，于是她就说：“这件事我将来可以源源本本地跟你说。” 
“可那得什么时候呢？” 
“在我成为你的妻子以后。” 
话题现在已转到莫雷尔最喜欢的这一方面了，在这时他愿意接受所有的让步；他觉得他所得知的这些消息已足以让自己满意了。一天能听到这么多的消息已不算少了。可是，在瓦朗蒂娜没有答应他第二天傍晚再和他见面以前，他还是不肯离开。瓦朗蒂娜答应丁莫雷尔向她提出的一切要求了，一小时以前，如果有人对她说她可以不嫁给弗兰兹，实在感到难以相信，但现在如果有人向她说她可以和马西米兰结婚，她自然就不会那么觉着相信了。 
在刚才描写过的那场会见进行的过程中，维尔福夫人已去拜访过了诺瓦蒂埃先生。老人象往常见到她的时候一样，用严厉和厌恶的神情看着她。 
“阁下，”她说，“瓦朗蒂娜的婚事已经无可挽回了，我跟您说这个是多余的，因为破裂就发生在这儿。 
诺瓦蒂埃依然毫不动色。 
“但我可以跟您说一件事情，这件事儿我想您也许还不知道。就是，对于这门亲事，我从来都是反对的，最初而谈这项婚约的时候，根本没有得到过我的同意或赞许。” 
诺瓦蒂埃用一种希望对方解释的目光望着他的儿媳妇。 
“我知道您非常讨厌这门亲事，现在它已经完结了，我来向您提出一个维尔福先生或瓦朗蒂娜不好提出的请求。” 
诺瓦蒂埃的眼光问那个请求是什么。 
“我要求您，阁下，”维尔福夫人继续说，“因只有我一个人可以有资格这么做，因为只有我在这件事情上毫无私人的利害关系——我要求您赐回，不是您的爱，因为那是她始终享有着的，而是您的财产给您的孙女儿。” 
诺瓦蒂埃的眼光里露出一种不信任的表情。他显然想了解这个请求的动机，但并没有成功。 
“阁下，”维尔福夫人说。“我可以希望您符合我的要求吗？” 
诺瓦蒂埃表示可以。 
“那么，阁下，”维尔福夫人又说，“我就告退了，我此时很感激，也很快活。”她向诺瓦蒂埃先生鞠躬告退。 
第二天，诺瓦蒂埃先生派人去请公证人：把以前的那张遗嘱销毁，重新另立一份，在那份遗嘱里，他把他的全部财产都遗赠给了瓦朗蒂娜，条件是她永远不能离开他。于是大家都传说：维尔福小姐本来就是圣·梅朗侯爵夫妇的继承人，现在又获得了她祖父的欢心，将来每年可以得到一笔三十万里弗的收入。 
与维尔福先生家里解除婚约的同时，基督山已去拜访过一次马尔塞夫伯爵；然后，马尔塞夫伯爵为了表示他对腾格拉尔的尊敬，他穿上了中将制服，挂上了他的全部勋章，这样打扮好以后，就吩咐人备上他最健壮的马匹，赶到安顿大马路。腾格拉尔正核算他的月帐，如果有人想在他高兴的时候去找他，现在恰好不是最好的时机。一看到他的老朋友，腾格拉尔就做出他那种庄重的神气，四平八稳地在他的安乐椅里摆好架子。马尔塞夫平时十分骄矜拘执，这一次却面带笑容，以殷勤的态度向银行家问候；由于确信他的提议对方一定肯接受，他就省去一切外交辞令，开门见山地说起下文。 
“嗯，男爵，”他说，“我总算来了，自从我们的计划议定以后，已经过去相当多的时间了，可那些计划到现在还没有实行呢。” 
马尔塞夫以为对方那种冷淡的态度是因为他自己不开口造成的，而现在他说了这句话，银行家的面孔一定会放松起来；然而恰好相反，让他大感惊奇的是，那张面孔竟然更加严肃无情了。 
“您指的是哪一件事情，伯爵阁下？”腾格拉尔说，好象他一直没猜出将军话里的含义似的。 
“啊！”马尔塞夫说，“看来您是一个很讲究形式的人，我亲爱的先生，您提醒我不应该免除古板的仪式。我请您原谅，但因为我只有一个儿子，而且又是我生平第一次打算给他娶亲，所以我还是个学徒的生手，好吧，我愿意加以改进。”于是马尔塞夫带着一个勉强的微笑站起身来，向腾格拉尔深深地鞠躬，说：“男爵阁下，我很荣幸地为我儿子阿尔贝·马尔塞夫子爵来向您请求与欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐结亲。” 
然而腾格拉尔不仅不象马尔塞夫所期望的那样以热情的态度来接受这次求婚，反而眉头紧皱，仍然让伯爵站着，不请他落座，说：“伯爵阁下，在我给您一个答复以前，这件事情必须得考虑考虑。” 
“考虑考虑！”马尔塞夫说，愈加感到惊愕了，“自从我们一开始谈起这桩婚事以来，已经有八个年头了，在这八年时间里，您难道考虑得还不够吗？” 
“伯爵阁下，”银行家说，“有些事情我们原以为是决定了，但每天发生的事使我们不得不随机应变。” 
“我不明白您的意思，男爵阁下。”马尔塞夫说。 
“我的意思是，阁下——在最近这两星期里，发生了一些我料想不到的事情——” 
“请原谅，”马尔塞夫说，“但我们是在演戏吗？” 
“演戏？” 
“是的，因为很象在演戏，我们把话说得更直截了当点儿吧，尽量互相了解对方的意思。” 
“那正是我所希望的。” 
“您见过基督山先生了，是不是？” 
“我常常见到他，”腾格拉尔挺直了身子说。“他是我非常亲密的朋友。” 
“在您和他最近谈话的时候，您说，我对这件婚事的态度不够坚决，好象把它淡忘了。” 
“我确实这么说过。” 
“好吧，我现在来了。您看，我既没有淡忘，也没有不坚决的意思，因为我现在来提醒您的诺言了。” 
腾格拉尔不作答。 
“难道您这么快就改变了主意，”马尔塞夫又说，“或者您是想让我再三向您恳求，以我的屈辱来取乐吗？” 
腾格拉尔觉得谈话继续这样进行下去，与他就不再有利了，于是就改变口吻，对马尔塞夫说：“伯爵阁下，您有权对我的含蓄表示吃惊——这一点我承认——而我向您保证，我用这种态度对待您，于我也觉得十分别扭。但相信我，在我说那句话的时候，我实在也是由于万不得已。” 
“这些话都听上去空空洞洞的，我亲爱的先生，”马尔塞夫说。“这些话也许可以让一个萍水相逢的朋友感到满足，但马尔塞夫伯爵却并不是一个萍水相逢的朋友。他以这样的身份去拜访另外一个人，要求对方履行诺言的时候，如果这个人不能履行他自己的诺言，那么他起码应该提出一个充分的理由。” 
腾格拉尔是一个懦夫，但他在表面上却不愿意显得如此；马尔塞夫刚才使用的那种口吻把他惹怒了。“我的举动并不是没有充分的理由。”他答道。 
“您的意思是什么呢？” 
“我的意思是，我有一个很充分的理由，但却不好明说。” 
“总而言之，您一定要明白，我对于你的沉默不会感到满意，但至少有一点显而易见的——就是您不想和我的家庭联姻。” 
“不，阁下，”腾格拉尔说，“我只是想推迟我的决定而已。” 
“而您真的这么自以为是，以为我竟可以随着您反复无常，低三下四地等您回心转意吗？” 
“那么，伯爵阁下，如果您不愿意等待的话，我们就只好就算从来没有谈到过这些事情好了。” 
伯爵的脾气本来就傲慢急躁，为了阻止自己爆发出怒气，他紧紧把嘴唇咬住，直到咬出血，可是，他明白在目前这种状态下，遭嘲笑的一定是他，所以他本来已向客厅门口跨出了几步，但一转念，又回来。一片阴云掠过他的额头，抹去了脑门上的怒气，剩下一种淡淡的不安的痕迹。“我亲爱的腾格拉尔，”他说，“我们相识已经很多年了，所以我们应该互相尊重对方的脾气。您应该向我说明一下，我也应该知道我的儿子为什么失去了您的欢心，这本来是很公平的。” 
“那并不是因为对子爵本人有什么恶感，我能告诉您的仅此而已，阁下。”腾格拉尔回答，他一看到马尔塞夫软下来了一点，就马上又恢复了他那种傲慢的态度。 
“那么您对谁产生了恶感呢？”马尔塞夫脸色发白，音调都变了。 
伯爵脸上的表情并没有瞒过银行家的眼睛；他用比以前更加坚定的眼神盯住对方，说：“您最好还是不要勉强我说得更明白吧。” 
伯爵气得浑身颤抖，他极力克制住自己的狂怒，说：“我有权要您必须向我解释清楚。是不是马尔塞夫夫人不讨你喜欢？是不是您觉得我的财产不够，是不是因为我的政见和您不一致？” 
“绝不是那一类的事，阁下，”腾格拉尔答道，“如果是那样，那就只能怪我自己了，因为这些事情在一开始讨论婚约的时候我就知道。不，不要再追究原因了吧。我真感到很惭愧，让您这样作严格的自我检讨。我们暂且先不提这件事，采取中和的办法——就是，放一放再说，不算破裂也不算成约，用不着忙。我的女儿才十七岁，令郎才二十一岁。在我们等待的过程中，时间自然会促使事情不断地发展。晚上看东西只觉得一片黑暗模糊，但在晨光中看却就太清楚了。有的时候，一天之间，最残酷的诽谤会突然从天而降。” 
“诽谤，这是您说的吗，阁下？”马尔塞夫脸色顿时灰白，喊道。“难道有人敢造我谣？” 
“伯爵阁下，我已经告诉过您了，我认为最好是不要做什么解释。” 
“那么，阁下，我就耐心地忍受遭您拒绝的屈辱吗？” 
“这件事在我更是痛苦，阁下——是的，我比您感到更加痛苦，因为别人都知道我要跟您高攀，而一次婚约的破裂，女方所受的损害总比男方要大。” 
“行了，阁下，”马尔塞夫说，“这件事情我们不必再说了。” 
于是他气冲冲地紧抓着他的手套走出房间。 
腾格拉尔注意到：在这次谈话的过程中，马尔塞夫自始至终不敢问是不是因为他自己，腾格拉尔才放弃他的诺言。 
那天晚上，腾格拉尔和几位朋友商量了很长时间；卡瓦尔康蒂先生则在客厅里陪着太太小姐，他最后一个离开那位银行家的家。 
第二天早晨，腾格拉尔一醒过来就找来报纸。报纸拿来了。他把其他三四份放在一边，拿起《大公报》，也就是波尚主编的那份报。他急忙忙地撕掉封套，慌慌张张地打开那份报纸，不屑一顾地掀过“巴黎大事”版，翻到杂项消息栏，带着一个恶毒的微笑把目光停驻在一段以“亚尼纳通讯”开始的消息上。“好极了！”腾格拉尔在看完那一段消息后说，“这儿有一小段关于弗尔南多上校的文字，这一段文字，如果我没有弄错的话，可以省掉我一番劲儿，免得再跟马尔塞夫伯爵来解释了。” 
与此同时——就是说，在早晨九点钟，阿尔贝·马尔塞夫穿上一套笔挺的黑制服，激动地来到香榭丽舍大道去拜访基督山，但当他草草地问伯爵在不在家的时候，门房告诉他说，大人已经在半小时前出去了。 
“他带没带巴浦斯汀去？” 
“没有，子爵阁下。” 
“那么，叫他来，我要跟他说几句话。” 
门房去找那位贴身跟班，一会儿就跟他一起回来了。 
“我的好朋友，”阿尔贝说，“请原谅我的冒昧，但我很想从你这儿知道你的主人是不是真出去了。” 
“他真的出去了，阁下。”巴浦斯汀答道。 
“出去了？既使对我也是这样说？” 
“我知道主人一向十分高兴地见到子爵阁下，”巴浦斯汀说，“所以我绝不会把您当作普通客人看待。” 
“你说得对，我现在有一件非常要紧的事情想见见他。你说他是不是要很久才能回来？” 
“不，我想不会，因为他吩咐在十点钟给他备好早餐。” 
“好吧，我在香榭丽舍大道上转一转，十点钟的时候再回来。在这个期间，如果伯爵阁下回来了，你请他不要再出去，等着见我，行不行？” 
“我一定代为转达，阁下。”巴浦斯汀说。 
阿尔贝把他的马车留在伯爵门口，准备徒步去转圈儿。当他经过浮维斯巷的时候，他好象看到伯爵的马停在高塞射击房的门口，他走过去，认出了那个车夫。“伯爵阁下在里面射击吗？”马尔塞夫说。 
“是的，先生。”车夫回答。 
他正说着，阿尔贝听到两三下手枪响声。他往里面走，遇到一位射击房里的侍者。“对不起，子爵阁下，”那个孩子说，“您等一下好不好？” 
“为什么，菲力？”阿尔贝问。他是那儿的老顾客，不明白为什么这次要阻止他进去。 
“因为现在房子里的那位先生不愿意有人打扰他，他从来不在外人面前练枪的。” 
“连你也不许去吗？那么谁给他上子弹？” 
“他的仆人。” 
“一个努力比亚人吗？” 
“一个黑人。” 
“那么，是他了。” 
“你认识这位先生的吗？” 
“是的，我就是来找他的，他是我的朋友。” 
“噢！那又是一回事了。我马上去告诉他，说您来了。”于是菲力在他自己好奇心的驱动下走进射击房，没过一会儿后，基督山出现在门槛上了。 
“我亲爱的伯爵，”阿尔贝说，“请原谅我跟踪您到了这里，我必须先跟您说，这种失礼的行为不是您仆人的过错，只怪我自己。我到您府上，他们告诉我说，您出去了，但十点钟回来吃早餐。我打算散步散到十点钟，不想，看见了您的车马。” 
“您刚才说这一通，让我倒希望你是准备来和我一起吃早餐的。” 
“不，谢谢您，我现在想的不是早餐，而是别的事情。那顿饭我们也许可以迟一些，等心情更恶劣了再吃。” 
“您在说些什么错话呀？” 
“我今天要跟人决斗。” 
“您？为什么？” 
“我要去跟人决斗——” 
“好了，我明白。可为什么事吵起来的呢？决斗的原因多得很，您知道。” 
“我决斗是为了名誉。” 
“哎呀！那可是一件很严重的事情了。” 
“严重得我来请求您帮我一个忙。” 
“帮什么忙？” 
“做我的陪证人。” 
“这是件非寻常的事情，我们不要在这儿说了，回家以后再说吧。阿里，给我拿一点水来。” 
伯爵卷起袖子，走进那间专供练习射击的先生们练习完后洗手的小耳房里。 
“请进，子爵阁下，”菲力小声说，“我给您看一件滑稽事儿。”马尔塞夫进去，见到墙上钉着的不是普通的靶子，而是几张纸牌。阿尔贝远看以为那是一整套的纸牌，因为他可以从Ａ数到十。 
“啊！啊！”阿尔贝说，“我看您是在准备玩纸牌了。” 
“不，”伯爵说，“我是在制造一套纸牌。” 
“怎么回事？”阿尔贝说。 
“您看到的那些牌实际上都是Ａ和二，但我的枪弹把它们变成三、五、七、八、九和十。” 
阿尔贝走近去看。果然，纸牌上子弹穿过的地方极其准确，行次的距离都符合规定。马尔塞夫朝靶子走过去的时候，半路上又拾到两三只燕子，它们是被伯爵打死的，因为它们鲁莽地飞进伯爵的手枪射程。 
“哎呀！”马尔塞夫说。 
“您叫我有什么办法呢？，我亲爱的子爵？”基督山一面用阿里递来的毛巾擦手，一面说。“我总得在空闲的时间找些事儿做做呀。过来吧，我等着您呢。” 
于是他们一起走进基督山的双轮马车。几分钟后，那辆马车就把他们拉到三十号门口。基督山领着阿尔贝到他的书斋里，指着一个位子让他坐下，他自己也找了一个位子坐下来。“现在我们平心静气地把事情来说一说吧，”他说。 
“您也看得出，我是相当平心静气的了。”阿尔贝说。 
“您想跟谁决斗？” 
“波尚。” 
“你们不是朋友吗？” 
“当然喽，决斗的对手总是朋友。” 
“我想你们这次发生争吵总有原因的吧？” 
“当然有！” 
“他把您怎么了？” 
“昨天晚上，他的报纸上——还是等一等，您自己去看吧。”于是阿尔贝把那份报纸递给伯爵。伯爵念道：“亚尼纳通讯：我们现在听说到一件至今大家还不知道，或者至少还没有公布过的事实。防护本市的城堡，是被阿里·铁贝林总督非常信任的法国军官弗尔南多出卖给土耳其人的。” 
“嗯，”基督山说，“这段消息有什么值得你恼怒的呢？” 
“有什么值得我恼怒的吗？” 
“是啊，亚尼纳的城堡被一个法国军官出卖，这跟你有什么关系呢？” 
“这关系到家父马尔塞夫伯爵，因为弗尔南多是他的教名。” 
“令尊在阿坦克总督手下干过吗？” 
“是的，也就是说，他曾为希腊的独立而战，而这种诽谤就是因此而起的。” 
“噢，我亲爱的子爵，您说话得理智一些！” 
“我并不想不理智。” 
“
Chapter 79 The Lemonade
 MORREL WAS, in fact, very happy. M. Noirtier had just sent for him, and he was in such haste to know the reason of his doing so that he had not stopped to take a cab, placing infinitely more dependence on his own two legs than on the four legs of a cab-horse. He had therefore set off at a furious rate from the Rue Meslay, and was hastening with rapid strides in the direction of the Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Morrel advanced with a firm, manly tread, and poor Barrois followed him as he best might. Morrel was only thirty-one, Barrois was sixty years of age; Morrel was deeply in love, and Barrois was dying with heat and exertion. These two men, thus opposed in age and interests, resembled two parts of a triangle, presenting the extremes of separation, yet nevertheless possessing their point of union. This point of union was Noirtier, and it was he who had just sent for Morrel, with the request that the latter would lose no time in coming to him--a command which Morrel obeyed to the letter, to the great discomfiture of Barrois. On arriving at the house, Morrel was not even out of breath, for love lends wings to our desires; but Barrois, who had long forgotten what it was to love, was sorely fatigued by the expedition he had been constrained to use. 
The old servant introduced Morrel by a private entrance, closed the door of the study, and soon the rustling of a dress announced the arrival of Valentine. She looked marvellously beautiful in her deep mourning dress, and Morrel experienced such intense delight in gazing upon her that he felt as if he could almost have dispensed with the conversation of her grandfather. But the easy-chair of the old man was heard rolling along the floor, and he soon made his appearance in the room. Noirtier acknowledged by a look of extreme kindness and benevolence the thanks which Morrel lavished on him for his timely intervention on behalf of Valentine and himself--an intervention which had saved them from despair. Morrel then cast on the invalid an interrogative look as to the new favor which he designed to bestow on him. Valentine was sitting at a little distance from them, timidly awaiting the moment when she should be obliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her. "Am I to say what you told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a sign that she was to do so. 
"Monsieur Morrel," said Valentine to the young man, who was regarding her with the most intense interest, "my grandfather, M. Noirtier, had a thousand things to say, which he told me three days ago; and now, he has sent for you, that I may repeat them to you. I will repeat them, then; and since he has chosen me as his interpreter, I will be faithful to the trust, and will not alter a word of his intentions." 
"Oh, I am listening with the greatest impatience," replied the young man; "speak, I beg of you." Valentine cast down her eyes; this was a good omen for Morrel, for he knew that nothing but happiness could have the power of thus overcoming Valentine. "My grandfather intends leaving this house," said she, "and Barrois is looking out suitable apartments for him in another." 
"But you, Mademoiselle de Villefort,--you, who are necessary to M. Noirtier's happiness"-- 
"I?" interrupted Valentine; "I shall not leave my grandfather,--that is an understood thing between us. My apartment will be close to his. Now, M. de Villefort must either give his consent to this plan or his refusal; in the first case, I shall leave directly, and in the second, I shall wait till I am of age, which will be in about ten months. Then I shall be free, I shall have an independent fortune, and"-- 
"And what?" demanded Morrel. 
"And with my grandfather's consent I shall fulfil the promise which I have made you." Valentine pronounced these last few words in such a low tone, that nothing but Morrel's intense interest in what she was saying could have enabled him to hear them. "Have I not explained your wishes, grandpapa?" said Valentine, addressing Noirtier. "Yes," looked the old man.--"Once under my grandfather's roof, M. Morrel can visit me in the presence of my good and worthy protector, if we still feel that the union we contemplated will be likely to insure our future comfort and happiness; in that case I shall expect M. Morrel to come and claim me at my own hands. But, alas, I have heard it said that hearts inflamed by obstacles to their desire grew cold in time of security; I trust we shall never find it so in our experience!" 
"Oh," cried Morrel, almost tempted to throw himself on his knees before Noirtier and Valentine, and to adore them as two superior beings, "what have I ever done in my life to merit such unbounded happiness?" 
"Until that time," continued the young girl in a calm and self-possessed tone of voice, "we will conform to circumstances, and be guided by the wishes of our friends, so long as those wishes do not tend finally to separate us; in a word, and I repeat it, because it expresses all I wish to convey,--we will wait." 
"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this word imposes, sir," said Morrel, "not only with resignation, but with cheerfulness." 
"Therefore," continued Valentine, looking playfully at Maximilian, "no more inconsiderate actions--no more rash projects; for you surely would not wish to compromise one who from this day regards herself as destined, honorably and happily, to bear your name?" 
Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regarded the lovers with a look of ineffable tenderness, while Barrois, who had remained in the room in the character of a man privileged to know everything that passed, smiled on the youthful couple as he wiped the perspiration from his bald forehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois," said Valentine. 
"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must do M. Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster." Noirtier directed their attention to a waiter, on which was placed a decanter containing lemonade and a glass. The decanter was nearly full, with the exception of a little, which had been already drunk by M. Noirtier. 
"Come, Barrois," said the young girl, "take some of this lemonade; I see you are coveting a good draught of it." 
"The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying with thirst, and since you are so kind as to offer it me, I cannot say I should at all object to drinking your health in a glass of it." 
"Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois took away the waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgot to shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the very dregs the glass which Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were exchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was heard at the door-bell. It was the signal of a visit. Valentine looked at her watch. 
"It is past noon," said she, "and to-day is Saturday; I dare say it is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked his conviction that she was right in her supposition. "He will come in here, and M. Morrel had better go,--do you not think so, grandpapa?" 
"Yes," signed the old man. 
"Barrois," cried Valentine, "Barrois!" 
"I am coming, mademoiselle," replied he. "Barrois will open the door for you," said Valentine, addressing Morrel. "And now remember one thing, Monsieur Officer, that my grandfather commands you not to take any rash or ill-advised step which would be likely to compromise our happiness." 
"I promised him to wait," replied Morrel; "and I will wait." 
At this moment Barrois entered. "Who rang?" asked Valentine. 
"Doctor d'Avrigny," said Barrois, staggering as if he would fall. 
"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine. The old man did not answer, but looked at his master with wild staring eyes, while with his cramped hand he grasped a piece of furniture to enable him to stand upright. "He is going to fall!" cried Morrel. The rigors which had attacked Barrois gradually increased, the features of the face became quite altered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appeared to indicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder. Noirtier, seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showed by his looks all the various emotions of sorrow and sympathy which can animate the heart of man. Barrois made some steps towards his master. 
"Ah, sir," said he, "tell me what is the matter with me. I am suffering--I cannot see. A thousand fiery darts are piercing my brain. Ah, don't touch me, pray don't." By this time his haggard eyes had the appearance of being ready to start from their sockets; his head fell back, and the lower extremities of the body began to stiffen. Valentine uttered a cry of horror; Morrel took her in his arms, as if to defend her from some unknown danger. "M. d'Avrigny, M. d'Avrigny," cried she, in a stifled voice. "Help, help!" Barrois turned round and with a great effort stumbled a few steps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, and resting his hand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, my good master!" At this moment M. de Villefort, attracted by the noise, appeared on the threshold. Morrel relaxed his hold of Valentine, and retreating to a distant corner of the room remained half hidden behind a curtain. Pale as if he had been gazing on a serpent, he fixed his terrified eye on the agonized sufferer. 
Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despair at his utter inability to help his old domestic, whom he regarded more in the light of a friend than a servant. One might by the fearful swelling of the veins of his forehead and the contraction of the muscles round the eye, trace the terrible conflict which was going on between the living energetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body. Barrois, his features convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, and his head thrown back, was lying at full length, beating the floor with his hands, while his legs had become so stiff, that they looked as if they would break rather than bend. A slight appearance of foam was visible around the mouth, and he breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty. 
Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remained gazing intently on the scene before him without uttering a word. He had not seen Morrel. After a moment of dumb contemplation, during which his face became pale and his hair seemed to stand on end, he sprang towards the door, crying out, "Doctor, doctor! come instantly, pray come!" 
"Madame, madame!" cried Valentine, calling her step-mother, and running up-stairs to meet her; "come quick, quick!--and bring your bottle of smelling-salts with you." 
"What is the matter?" said Madame de Villefort in a harsh and constrained tone. 
"Oh, come, come!" 
"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort; "where is he?" Madame de Villefort now deliberately descended the staircase. In one hand she held her handkerchief, with which she appeared to be wiping her face, and in the other a bottle of English smelling-salts. Her first look on entering the room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of the emotion which such a scene could not fail of producing, proclaimed him to be in possession of his usual health; her second glance was at the dying man. She turned pale, and her eye passed quickly from the servant and rested on the master. 
"In the name of heaven, madame," said Villefort, "where is the doctor? He was with you just now. You see this is a fit of apoplexy, and he might be saved if he could but be bled!" 
"Has he eaten anything lately?" asked Madame de Villefort, eluding her husband's question. "Madame," replied Valentine, "he has not even breakfasted. He has been running very fast on an errand with which my grandfather charged him, and when he returned, took nothing but a glass of lemonade." 
"Ah," said Madame de Villefort, "why did he not take wine? Lemonade was a very bad thing for him." 
"Grandpapa's bottle of lemonade was standing just by his side; poor Barrois was very thirsty, and was thankful to drink anything he could find." Madame de Villefort started. Noirtier looked at her with a glance of the most profound scrutiny. "He has such a short neck," said she. "Madame," said Villefort, "I ask where is M. d'Avrigny? In God's name answer me!" 
"He is with Edward, who is not quite well," replied Madame de Villefort, no longer being able to avoid answering. 
Villefort rushed up-stairs to fetch him. "Take this," said Madame de Villefort, giving her smelling-bottle to Valentine. "They will, no doubt, bleed him; therefore I will retire, for I cannot endure the sight of blood;" and she followed her husband up-stairs. Morrel now emerged from his hiding-place, where he had remained quite unperceived, so great had been the general confusion. "Go away as quick as you can, Maximilian," said Valentine, "and stay till I send for you. Go." 
Morrel looked towards Noirtier for permission to retire. The old man, who had preserved all his usual coolness, made a sign to him to do so. The young man pressed Valentine's hand to his lips, and then left the house by a back staircase. At the same moment that he quitted the room, Villefort and the doctor entered by an opposite door. Barrois was now showing signs of returning consciousness. The crisis seemed past, a low moaning was heard, and he raised himself on one knee. D'Avrigny and Villefort laid him on a couch. "What do you prescribe, doctor?" demanded Villefort. "Give me some water and ether. You have some in the house, have you not?" 
"Yes." 
"Send for some oil of turpentine and tartar emetic." 
Villefort immediately despatched a messenger. "And now let every one retire." 
"Must I go too?" asked Valentine timidly. 
"Yes, mademoiselle, you especially," replied the doctor abruptly. 
Valentine looked at M. d'Avrigny with astonishment, kissed her grandfather on the forehead, and left the room. The doctor closed the door after her with a gloomy air. "Look, look, doctor," said Villefort, "he is quite coming round again; I really do not think, after all, it is anything of consequence." M. d'Avrigny answered by a melancholy smile. "How do you feel, Barrois?" asked he. "A little better, sir." 
"Will you drink some of this ether and water?" 
"I will try; but don't touch me." 
"Why not?" 
"Because I feel that if you were only to touch me with the tip of your finger the fit would return." 
"Drink." 
Barrois took the glass, and, raising it to his purple lips, took about half of the liquid offered him. "Where do you suffer?" asked the doctor. 
"Everywhere. I feel cramps over my whole body." 
"Do you find any dazzling sensation before the eyes?" 
"Yes." 
"Any noise in the ears?" 
"Frightful." 
"When did you first feel that?" 
"Just now." 
"Suddenly?" 
"Yes, like a clap of thunder." 
"Did you feel nothing of it yesterday or the day before?" 
"Nothing." 
"No drowsiness?" 
"None." 
"What have you eaten to-day?" 
"I have eaten nothing; I only drank a glass of my master's lemonade--that's all;" and Barrois turned towards Noirtier, who, immovably fixed in his arm-chair, was contemplating this terrible scene without allowing a word or a movement to escape him. 
"Where is this lemonade?" asked the doctor eagerly. 
"Down-stairs in the decanter." 
"Whereabouts downstairs?" 
"In the kitchen." 
"Shall I go and fetch it, doctor?" inquired Villefort. 
"No, stay here and try to make Barrois drink the rest of this glass of ether and water. I will go myself and fetch the lemonade." D'Avrigny bounded towards the door, flew down the back staircase, and almost knocked down Madame de Villefort, in his haste, who was herself going down to the kitchen. She cried out, but d'Avrigny paid no attention to her; possessed with but one idea, he cleared the last four steps with a bound, and rushed into the kitchen, where he saw the decanter about three parts empty still standing on the waiter, where it had been left. He darted upon it as an eagle would seize upon its prey. Panting with loss of breath, he returned to the room he had just left. Madame de Villefort was slowly ascending the steps which led to her room. "Is this the decanter you spoke of?" asked d'Avrigny. 
"Yes, doctor." 
"Is this the same lemonade of which you partook?" 
"I believe so." 
"What did it taste like?" 
"It had a bitter taste." 
The doctor poured some drops of the lemonade into the palm of his hand, put his lips to it, and after having rinsed his mouth as a man does when he is tasting wine, he spat the liquor into the fireplace. 
"It is no doubt the same," said he. "Did you drink some too, M. Noirtier?" 
"Yes." 
"And did you also discover a bitter taste?" 
"Yes." 
"Oh, doctor," cried Barrois, "the fit is coming on again. Oh, do something for me." The doctor flew to his patient. "That emetic, Villefort--see if it is coming." Villefort sprang into the passage, exclaiming, "The emetic! the emetic!--is it come yet?" No one answered. The most profound terror reigned throughout the house. "If I had anything by means of which I could inflate the lungs," said d'Avrigny, looking around him, "perhaps I might prevent suffocation. But there is nothing which would do--nothing!" "Oh, sir," cried Barrois, "are you going to let me die without help? Oh, I am dying! Oh, save me!" 
"A pen, a pen!" said the doctor. There was one lying on the table; he endeavored to introduce it into the mouth of the patient, who, in the midst of his convulsions, was making vain attempts to vomit; but the jaws were so clinched that the pen could not pass them. This second attack was much more violent than the first, and he had slipped from the couch to the ground, where he was writhing in agony. The doctor left him in this paroxysm, knowing that he could do nothing to alleviate it, and, going up to Noirtier, said abruptly, "How do you find yourself?--well?" 
"Yes." 
"Have you any weight on the chest; or does your stomach feel light and comfortable--eh?" 
"Yes." 
"Then you feel pretty much as you generally do after you have had the dose which I am accustomed to give you every Sunday?" 
"Yes." 
"Did Barrois make your lemonade?" 
"Yes." 
"Was it you who asked him to drink some of it?" 
"No." 
"Was it M. de Villefort?" 
"No." 
"Madame?" 
"No." 
"It was your granddaughter, then, was it not?" 
"Yes." A groan from Barrois, accompanied by a yawn which seemed to crack the very jawbones, attracted the attention of M. d'Avrigny; he left M. Noirtier, and returned to the sick man. "Barrois," said the doctor, "can you speak?" Barrois muttered a few unintelligible words. "Try and make an effort to do so, my good man." said d'Avrigny. Barrois reopened his bloodshot eyes. "Who made the lemonade?" 
"I did." 
"Did you bring it to your master directly it was made?" 
"No." 
"You left it somewhere, then, in the meantime?" 
"Yes; I left it in the pantry, because I was called away." 
"Who brought it into this room, then?" 
"Mademoiselle Valentine." D'Avrigny struck his forehead with his hand. "Gracious heaven," exclaimed he. "Doctor, doctor!" cried Barrois, who felt another fit coming. 
"Will they never bring that emetic?" asked the doctor. 
"Here is a glass with one already prepared," said Villefort, entering the room. 
"Who prepared it?" 
"The chemist who came here with me." 
"Drink it," said the doctor to Barrois. "Impossible, doctor; it is too late; my throat is closing up. I am choking! Oh, my heart! Ah, my head!--Oh, what agony!--Shall I suffer like this long?" 
"No, no, friend," replied the doctor, "you will soon cease to suffer." 
"Ah, I understand you," said the unhappy man. "My God, have mercy upon me!" and, uttering a fearful cry, Barrois fell back as if he had been struck by lightning. D'Avrigny put his hand to his heart, and placed a glass before his lips. 
"Well?" said Villefort. "Go to the kitchen and get me some syrup of violets." Villefort went immediately. "Do not be alarmed, M. Noirtier," said d'Avrigny; "I am going to take my patient into the next room to bleed him; this sort of attack is very frightful to witness." 
And taking Barrois under the arms, he dragged him into an adjoining room; but almost immediately he returned to fetch the lemonade. Noirtier closed lids right eye. "You want Valentine, do you not? I will tell them to send her to you." Villefort returned, and d'Avrigny met him in the passage. "Well, how is he now?" asked he. "Come in here," said d'Avrigny, and he took him into the chamber where the sick man lay. "Is he still in a fit?" said the procureur. 
"He is dead." 
Villefort drew back a few steps, and, clasping his hands, exclaimed, with real amazement and sympathy, "Dead?--and so soon too!" 
"Yes, it is very soon," said the doctor, looking at the corpse before him; "but that ought not to astonish you; Monsieur and Madame de Saint-Méran died as soon. People die very suddenly in your house, M. de Villefort." 
"What?" cried the magistrate, with an accent of horror and consternation, "are you still harping on that terrible idea?" 
"Still, sir; and I shall always do so," replied d'Avrigny, "for it has never for one instant ceased to retain possession of my mind; and that you may be quite sure I am not mistaken this time, listen well to what I am going to say, M. de Villefort." The magistrate trembled convulsively. "There is a poison which destroys life almost without leaving any perceptible traces. I know it well; I have studied it in all its forms and in the effects which it produces. I recognized the presence of this poison in the case of poor Barrois as well as in that of Madame de Saint-Méran. There is a way of detecting its presence. It restores the blue color of litmus-paper reddened by an acid, and it turns syrup of violets green. We have no litmus-paper, but, see, here they come with the syrup of violets." 
The doctor was right; steps were heard in the passage. M. d'Avrigny opened the door, and took from the hands of the chambermaid a cup which contained two or three spoonfuls of the syrup, he then carefully closed the door. "Look," said he to the procureur, whose heart beat so loudly that it might almost be heard, "here is in this cup some syrup of violets, and this decanter contains the remainder of the lemonade of which M. Noirtier and Barrois partook. If the lemonade be pure and inoffensive, the syrup will retain its color; if, on the contrary, the lemonade be drugged with poison, the syrup will become green. Look closely!" 
The doctor then slowly poured some drops of the lemonade from the decanter into the cup, and in an instant a light cloudy sediment began to form at the bottom of the cup; this sediment first took a blue shade, then from the color of sapphire it passed to that of opal, and from opal to emerald. Arrived at this last hue, it changed no more. The result of the experiment left no doubt whatever on the mind. 
"The unfortunate Barrois has been poisoned," said d'Avrigny, "and I will maintain this assertion before God and man." Villefort said nothing, but he clasped his hands, opened his haggard eyes, and, overcome with his emotion, sank into a chair.  
莫雷尔的确非常快活。诺瓦蒂埃先生刚才差人去叫他，为了急于想知道这次来叫他的原因，他匆忙得连车子都顾上不叫，对他自己的两条腿比马的四条腿居然更加信任。他以迅猛直前的速度从密斯雷路出发，朝着圣·奥诺路前进。莫雷尔是以一个运动健将的步速行进的，那位可怜的巴罗斯气喘嘘嘘地跟在他的后面。莫雷尔才三十一岁，而巴罗斯却已经六十岁了；莫雷尔陶醉在爱情里，巴罗斯则忍受着酷热的煎熬。这两个人在年龄和兴趣上的差别是如此之大，他们就象是一个三角形的两条边——在底上互不搭界而在顶部重合。 
那个顶部就是诺瓦蒂埃先生，他请莫雷尔立刻来看他——这个命令莫雷尔毫不含糊地做到了，可却大大地苦了巴罗斯。到那儿的时候，莫雷尔气不长嘘，因为爱神借给了他翅膀；而早把爱情忘记得一干二净的巴罗斯却累得浑身大汗。 
那个老仆人领着莫雷尔从一扇小门里进去，书斋的门关上以后，不多会儿就传来一阵衣裙的窸窣声，这就等于是宣告瓦朗蒂娜到来了。她穿上深颜色的丧服显得美丽非凡，莫雷尔望着她的时候心里感到无比喜悦，觉得即使她的祖父不同他谈话也没什么关系。不过他们听到老人的那把安乐椅已顺着地板上滚动过来，不一会儿他就来到房间里了。莫雷尔热情地向他道谢，感激他及时中止那桩婚事，把瓦朗蒂娜和他从绝望中拯救了出来；诺瓦蒂埃用一种慈祥的眼光接受了他的感谢。于是莫雷尔就朝那年轻女郎投过去一个征询的目光，想知道现在又有什么新的恩典要赐予他。瓦朗蒂娜的座位稍微离开他们一段距离，她正在小心奕奕地等待非她不可的说话时机。诺瓦蒂埃用他的眼光盯住她。“我可以把您跟我说的那些话讲出来吗？”瓦朗蒂娜问，诺瓦蒂埃仍然望着他。 
“那么，您想让我把您跟我说的那些话讲出来吗？”她又问。 
“是的。“诺瓦蒂埃示意。 
“莫雷尔先生，”瓦朗蒂娜对那个凝神屏气倾听着的年轻人说，“我的祖父诺瓦蒂埃先生有很多事情要跟你说，那是他三天以前告诉我的。现在他把你请来，就是要我把那些话转达给你听。现在，我就开始转达了。而既然他选中我做他的传话人，我当然就要忠于他的信托，绝不把他的意思改变一个字。” 
“噢，我正非常耐心地听着呢，”那位青年说道，“请你说吧！” 
瓦朗蒂娜低垂下她的眼睛，这在莫雷尔看来是一个好征兆，因为他明白只有快乐才能使瓦朗蒂娜这样情不自禁。“我祖父准备离开这儿了，”她说，“巴罗斯正在给他寻找合适的房子。” 
“不过你，小姐，”莫雷尔说——“你和诺瓦蒂埃先生的幸福是不能割裂的——” 
“我？”瓦朗蒂娜打断他的话头说，“我不会离开我的祖父，这我们早就商量好了。我和他住在一起。现在，维尔福先生必须得对这个打算表示同意或拒绝。如果他同意，我就马上离开。如果他拒绝，我就得等到我成年以后再走，那就得再等十个月左右，然后我就自由了，我可以拥有一笔个人支配财产，而——” 
“而——？”莫雷尔问道。 
“而经我祖父的允许，我就可以兑现我对你出的诺言了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜说出最后这句话的时候声音是那么样的低，如果不是莫雷尔在全神贯注倾听的话，他恐怕就听不清了。 
“我把你的意思说清楚了吗，爷爷？”瓦朗蒂娜对诺瓦蒂埃说。 
“是的。”老人表示。 
“一旦到了我祖父的家里，莫雷尔先生就可以到我那位敬爱的保护人那儿去看我，如果我们依然感到我们所设想的婚姻可以保证我们将来能幸福，那么，我希望莫雷尔先生到那时亲自来向我求婚。不过，唉！我听人说，当人的愿望受到妨碍的时候，他们的心会由此炽热起来，而在得到保障的时候，心就变得冷淡了。” 
“噢！”莫雷尔喊道，他多么想扑过身去跪在诺瓦蒂埃面前，就象跪在上帝面前一样，他希望跪在瓦朗蒂娜面前，就象跪在一位天使面前一样，说，“我今生行了什么善，竟让我享受这样的福份呢？” 
“现在，那个时候之前，”这位年轻女郎用镇定矜持的口气继续说，“我们得尊重礼俗。凡是不希望最终把我们拆开的朋友，我们都得听取他们的意见。总之，我还是说那句老话，因为这句老话可以最好地表达我的意思——我们得等待。” 
“我发誓不惜一切代价接受这句话的约束，阁下，”莫雷尔说，“我不但愿意接受，而且很高兴地接受。” 
“所以，”瓦朗蒂娜调侃地望着马西米兰继续说道，“不要再做轻率的举动，不要再提出头脑发热的计划，因为从今天起，我觉着自己一定将会光荣而幸福地成为你的一部分，你当然不想连累她的名誉的喽？” 
莫雷尔把自己手按在心上。诺瓦蒂埃用无限慈爱的目光望着这对情人。巴罗斯是一个有资格了解一切经过的特权人物，他这时还留在房间里，一面擦拭着他那光秃的脑门上的汗珠，一面朝那对年轻人微笑。 
“你看来热得很呀，我的好巴罗斯！”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
“啊！我刚才跑得太快了，小姐。不过我必须说一句公道话，莫雷尔先生比我跑得还要快呢。” 
诺瓦蒂埃让他们注意到一只茶盘，盘上面放着一大樽柠檬水和一只杯子。那只玻璃樽几乎都装满了，诺瓦蒂埃先生只是喝了一点点。 
“来，巴罗斯，”那位年轻女郎说，“喝点儿柠檬水吧，我看你很想痛饮一番呢。” 
“小姐，”巴罗斯说，“我真的口渴死了，既然您这么好心请我喝，我当然绝不反对喝上一杯祝您康健。” 
“那么，拿去喝吧，马上回来呀。” 
巴罗斯端着茶盘走了出去，他在匆忙中忘了关门，他们见他一跨出房门就立刻把一仰将瓦朗蒂娜给他斟满的那一杯柠檬水喝个净光。 
瓦朗蒂娜和莫雷尔正在诺瓦蒂埃面前脉脉含情的互送秋波之时，忽然听到门铃响了。这说明来客人了。瓦朗蒂娜看了一看她的表。 
“十二点多了，”她说，“而今天是星期六。我敢说那一定是医生，爷爷。” 
诺瓦蒂埃表示他相信她说得不错。 
“他会到这儿来的，莫雷尔先生最好还是走吧。您说是不是，爷爷？” 
“是的。”老人表示。 
“巴罗斯！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，“巴罗斯！” 
“来了，小姐。”他回答。 
“巴罗斯会给你开门的，”瓦朗蒂娜对莫雷尔说。“现在，请牢记一点，军官阁下，对我的祖父指令你不要有任何轻举妄动，以免影响我们的幸福。” 
“我已经答应他等待了，”莫雷尔答道，“我一定等待。” 
这时巴罗斯进来了。 
“谁拉的铃？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。 
“阿夫里尼医生。”巴罗斯说，他步履踉跄，象是要倒下来似的。 
“怎么啦，巴罗斯？”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
那位老人没有答话，只是用失神呆滞的眼光望着他的主人，他，那痉挛的手则紧紧地抓住一件家具，以防止自己跌倒。 
“咦，他要摔倒啦！”莫雷尔叫道。 
巴罗斯的身体愈抖愈厉害，他的面貌几乎已经全部变形，肌肉一个劲儿地抽搐，预示一场极其严重的神经错乱马上来临。诺瓦蒂埃看到巴罗斯成了这种可怜的样子，他的目光里就流露出人之心所可能产生的种种悲哀和怜悯的情愫。巴罗斯向他的主人走近了几步。 
“啊，我的上帝！我的上帝！我怎么啦？”他说。“我难受极了！我什么也看不见啦！我的脑子里象是有千支火箭在乱窜！噢，别碰我，别碰我呵！” 
这时，他的眼珠已凶暴地凸出来；他的头向后仰，身体的其他部分开始僵硬起来。 
瓦朗蒂娜发出一声恐怖的喊叫；莫雷尔上前抱住了她，好象要保护她抵御什么不可测的危险似的。“阿夫里尼先生！阿夫里尼先生！”她用窒息的声音喊道。“救命哪！救命哪！” 
巴罗斯转了一个身，竭力踉跄地挣扎了几步，然后倒在了诺瓦蒂埃的脚下，一只手搭在那个废人的膝头上，喊道：“我的主人呀！我的好主人呀！” 
就在此刻，维尔福先生由于听到了这片喧闹声，来到了房间。莫雷尔放开了几乎快要昏过去的瓦朗蒂娜，退到房间最里边的一个角落里，躲在一张帷幕后面。他的脸色苍白象是突然见到自己面前窜出一条赤练蛇一样，他那错愕的光依然凝望着那个不幸的受难者。 
诺瓦蒂埃焦急恐怖到极点，只恨自己一点劲儿也使不上去帮助他的老家人；他从来不把巴罗斯看作是一个仆人，而把他当作一位朋友对待。他额头上的青筋暴胀，眼睛周围的肌肉猛烈地抽搐；从这些迹象上，可以看出在那活跃有力的大脑和那麻痹无助的肉体之间，正在进行着可怕的争斗。巴罗斯这时面部痉挛，眼睛充血，仰头躺在地上，两手敲打地板，两腿已变得非常僵硬，不象是自己在弯曲而象是折断了一样。他的嘴巴旁边绕着一层淡淡的白沫，呼吸得十分艰难痛苦。 
维尔福吓呆了，对眼前的这个情景不知所措地凝视了一会儿。他没有看见莫雷尔。当他这么哑然凝视的过程中，他的脸渐渐他白，头发好象直竖了起来，就这么过了一会儿，他跳到门口，大声喊道：“医生！医生！来呀，来呀！” 
“夫人，夫人！”瓦朗蒂娜奔上楼去叫他的后母，向她喊道，快来，快！把您的嗅瓶拿来！” 
“出了什么事？”维尔福夫人用一种做作的口气说。 
“噢！来！来呀！” 
“可医生在哪儿呀？”维尔福喊道，“他上哪儿去啦？” 
维尔福夫人此时从容不迫地走下楼，她一手握着一条手帕，象是准备抹脸的，另一只手里拿着一瓶英国嗅盐。她走进房间来的时候，第一眼先扫向诺瓦蒂埃，诺瓦蒂埃的脸上虽然表露出这种情况下必然会生发的情绪，可仍然可以看出他不保持着往常的健康；她的第二眼才扫向那个将死的人。她的脸色立时苍白起来，眼光又从那位仆人身上返回到他的主人身上。 
“看在上帝份儿上，夫人，”维尔福说，“告诉我医生在哪儿？他刚才还在你那儿。你看这象是中风，如果能够给他放血，大概他还有救。” 
“他最近吃过什么东西吗？”维尔福夫人没有直接回答她丈夫的问题，这样反问。 
“夫人，”瓦朗蒂娜答道，“他连早餐都没有吃。祖父派他去干了一件事，他跑得太快，回来只喝了一杯柠檬水。” 
“啊？”维尔福夫人说，“他为什么不喝葡萄酒呢？柠檬水对他是很不利呀。” 
“爷爷的那樽柠檬水就在他的身边，可怜的巴罗斯当时口渴极了，只要是喝的东西，他都欢迎。” 
维尔福夫人吃了一惊。诺瓦蒂埃用一种查询的眼光望着她。“他真倒霉。”她说。 
“夫人，”维尔福先生说，我问你阿夫里尼先生在哪儿？看上帝面上，快告诉我！” 
“他在爱德华那儿，爱德华也不大舒服。”维尔福夫人这次无法再避而不答。 
维尔福亲自走上楼去叫他。 
“这个你拿着吧。”维尔福夫人说，把她的嗅瓶交给瓦朗蒂娜。“他们肯定会给他放血，所以我得走了，因为我见不得血。”于是她跟在丈夫的后面上楼去了。 
莫雷尔从他躲藏的地方走出来，当时的情形十分混乱不堪，所以他躲在那里并没有让人发觉。 
“你赶快走，马西米兰，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我会派人来找你的。走吧。” 
莫雷尔看了一看诺瓦蒂埃，征求他同意。老人的神志依然十分清醒，他作了一个示意，表示他应该这么做。那位青年吻了一下瓦朗蒂娜的手，然后从后楼梯走出那座房子。在他离开房间的同时，维尔福先生和医生从对面的一个门口走了进来。巴罗斯这会儿已有了恢复知觉的迹象；危险好象已经过去了。他发出一声低微的呻吟，撑起了身子。阿夫里尼和维尔福扶他躺到一张睡榻上。 
“您需要什么东西，医生？”维尔福问。 
“拿一些水和酒精给我。你家里有吗？” 
“有。” 
“派人去买一些松节油和吐酒石来。” 
维尔福立刻派了一个人去买。 
“现在请大家出去。” 
“我也必须出去吗？”瓦朗蒂娜怯生生地问。 
“是的，小姐，你更要出去。”医生冒失地回答。 
瓦朗蒂娜吃惊地望着阿夫里尼先生，然后在她祖父的前额上吻了一下，走出房间。她一出去，医生就带着一种阴沉的神气把门关上。 
“看！看呀！医生，”维尔福说，“他苏醒过来了，看来，他不要紧了。” 
阿夫里尼先生的回答是一个无可奈何的微笑。“你自己觉着怎么样，巴罗斯？”他问道。 
“好一点了，先生。” 
“你喝一些酒精和水，好不好？” 
“我试试吧，但别碰我。” 
“为什么？” 
“我觉得如果只要您用您的手指尖来碰我一下，毛病就要复发了。” 
“喝吧。” 
巴罗斯接过那只杯子，把它端到他那已经发紫的嘴唇上，喝了一半。 
“你觉得哪儿难受？”医生问。 
“浑身都难受，我觉得全身都在痉挛。” 
“你有没有觉得眼睛前面象是冒火花的样子？” 
“对。” 
“耳朵里呜响？” 
“响得可怕极了。” 
“你最开始是什么时候感觉到的？” 
“就刚才。” 
“突然发生的吗？” 
“是的，象是一阵晴天霹雳。” 
“昨天或前天你一点都没有感觉到什么吗？” 
“没有。” 
“没有昏睡的感觉吗？” 
“没有。” 
“你今天吃了些什么东西？” 
“我什么也没有吃，就喝了一杯我主人的柠檬水。”于是巴罗斯把他的眼光转向诺瓦蒂埃，诺瓦蒂埃虽然坐在他的圈椅里一动都不能动，而且却注视着这幕可怕的情景，一个字甚至一个动作也逃不过他的耳目。 
“你喝的柠檬水在哪儿？”医生急切地问。 
“在楼下的玻璃樽里。” 
“楼下的什么地方？” 
“厨房里。” 
“要我去把它拿来吗，医生？”维尔福问道。 
“不，您留在这儿，想办法让巴罗斯把这一杯酒精和水喝完。我自己去拿那樽柠檬水。” 
阿夫里尼急忙跑到门口，飞也似奔下后楼梯，情急之中差一点撞倒维尔福夫人，因为维尔福夫人也正要往厨房里去。 
她惊喊了一声，阿夫里尼没有留意她。他的脑子里只有一个念头，他跳下最后的四级楼梯，冲进厨房里，见那只玻璃樽还在茶盘上，樽里还剩下四分之一的柠檬水。他象老鹰扑小鸡似的蹿上去抓住它，然后又上气不接下气地奔回他刚才离开的那个房间里。维尔福夫人正慢慢腾腾地走回到她楼上的房间里去。 
“你说的就是这只玻璃樽吗？”阿夫里尼问道。 
“是的，医生。” 
“你喝的就是这些柠檬水吗？” 
“我想是的。” 
“是什么味道？” 
“有一点苦味。” 
医生倒了几滴柠檬水在他的手心里，吮在嘴巴里含了一会儿，好象一个在品酒一样，然后又把嘴里的东西吐进壁炉里。 
“肯定就是这种东西，”他说，“您也喝了一些吧，诺瓦蒂埃先生？” 
“是的。” 
“您也觉着有苦味吗？” 
“是的。” 
“噢，医生！”巴罗斯喊道，“病又要发作了！我的上帝！主呀，可怜可怜我吧！” 
医生飞奔到他的病人跟前。“吐酒石，维尔福，看买来了没有？” 
维尔福跳进走廊里，大喊：“吐酒石，吐酒石！买来了没有呀？” 
没有一个人回答。阴森森的恐怖笼罩着整个屋子。 
“如果我有办法可以扩张他的肺部，”阿夫里尼望着四周说，“也许我可以能除他的窒息。可这里什么都没有！什么都没有！” 
“噢，先生，”巴罗斯喊道，“您就让我这么死了吗，不救教我吗？噢，我要死啦！我的上帝！我要死啦！” 
“拿支笔！拿支笔！”医生说。桌子上本来就放着一支笔，他竭力设法把它插进病人的嘴里去，可病人此时正在痉挛大发，牙关咬得非常紧，那支笔插不进去。这次发作比第一次更猛烈，他从睡榻上滚到地上，痛苦地在地上扭来扭去，医生知道已是毫无办法，就只管他痉挛，他走到诺瓦蒂埃面前，低声地说，“您自己觉得怎么样？很好吗？” 
“是的。” 
“您是不是觉得胸部没有以前那么紧，腹部舒适轻松，嗯？” 
“是的。” 
“那么您觉得差不多就象服下我每个星期日给您吃的药以后的状况差不多吗？” 
“是的。” 
“您的柠檬汁是巴罗斯给您调制的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“刚才是您要他喝的吗？” 
“不。” 
“是维尔福先生吗？” 
“不。” 
“夫人？” 
“不。” 
“那么是您的孙女儿了，是不是？” 
“是的。” 
巴罗斯发出一声呻吟，接着又嘘出一口气，仿佛他的牙床骨已经裂开了；这两种声音又把阿夫里尼先生的吸引了过去，他离开诺瓦蒂埃先生，回到病人那儿。“巴罗斯，”他说，“你能说话吗？”巴罗斯喃喃地说出几个含混不清的字。“尽管试试看，我的大好人。”阿夫里尼说。巴罗斯重新张开他那充血的眼睛。 
“柠檬水是谁调制的？” 
“我。” 
“你一调好就端到你主人这儿来了吗？” 
“没有。” 
“那么，其中一段时间你把它放在什么地方了？” 
“对，我把它放在食器室里，因为有人把我叫走了。” 
“那么是谁把它拿到这个房间里来的呢？” 
“瓦朗蒂娜小姐。” 
阿夫里尼用手敲打自己的前额。“仁慈的天主哪！”他低声地说。 
“医生！医生！”巴罗斯喊道，他觉得毛病又要发作了。 
“难道他们就拿不来吐酒石了吗？”医生问道。 
“这儿有一杯已经调好的。”维尔福走进房来，说。 
“谁调制的？” 
“跟我一起来的那个药剂师。” 
“喝吧。”医生对巴罗斯说。 
“不可能喝了，医生。太晚啦。我的喉咙都塞住了！我快断气了！噢，我的心呀！噢，我的头！噢，太痛苦了！我还得这么样痛苦很长时间吗？” 
“不，不，朋友，”医生回答说，“你马上就不会痛苦了。” 
“呵，我明白你的意思了，”这个不幸的人说。“我的上帝，发发慈悲吧！”于是巴罗斯发出一声可怕的叫喊，象遭了雷击一样的向后倒了下去。阿夫里尼用手摸摸他的心脏，把那只杯子凑到他的嘴巴上。 
“怎么样？”维尔福说。 
“到厨房里再去给我拿些堇菜汁来。” 
维尔福立刻就走了。 
“别怕，诺瓦蒂埃先生，”阿夫里尼说，“我带病人到隔壁房间里去给他放血，这种手术看上去非常可怕。” 
于是他搂起巴罗斯，把他拖到隔壁房间里；但是他马上又回来拿那瓶剩余的柠檬水。诺瓦蒂埃闭紧他的右眼。“您要见瓦朗蒂娜，对不对？我告诉他们去找她来见您。” 
维尔福回来了，阿夫里尼在走廊里碰到他，“哎！他现在怎么样了？”他问道。 
“到这儿来。”阿夫里尼说。于是他带他到巴罗斯躺着的那个房间里。 
“他还在发作吗？”检察官说。 
“他死了。” 
维尔福后退了几步，攥紧双手，用发自内心的哀痛的情绪喊道：“死了，死得这样突然！” 
“是的，非常突然，不是吗？”医生说。“但这个应该不会让你吃惊的，圣·梅朗先生夫妇也是这样突然死的。您家里的人都死得非常突然，维尔福先生。” 
“什么！”那位法官用狼狈而恐怖的声音喊道，“您又想到那个可怕的念头了吗？” 
“我一直没有忘记，阁下，我一直没有忘记，”阿夫里尼严肃地说，“因为它从来都没有从我的脑子失掉过，您可以相信我这一次不会是弄错了，请您好好地听着我下面的话，维尔福先生。”这位法官痉挛地抖动起来。“有一种毒药可以杀死人而基本不留下任何明显的痕迹。我对于这种毒药知道得很清楚。我曾研究它各种分量所产生上来的各种效果。我在那可怜的巴罗斯和圣·梅朗夫人的病症上识别出了这种毒药的药效。有一种方法可以察觉出它的存在。它可以使被酸素变红的蓝色试纸恢复它的本色，它可以使堇菜汁变成绿色。我们没有蓝色试纸，但是，听！他们拿堇菜汁来了。” 
医生没有说错，走廊里传出脚步声。阿夫里尼先生打开门，从女仆的手里接过一杯约有两三匙羹的菜汁，然后他又小心地把门关上。“看着！”他对检察官说，检察官的心这时是跳得如此剧烈，几乎可以听到它的响声了，“这只杯子里是堇菜汁，而这只玻璃樽里装的是诺瓦蒂埃先生和巴罗斯喝剩的柠檬水，如果柠檬水是无毒的，这种菜汁就能保持它原来的颜色，而如果柠檬水里掺有毒药，菜汁就会变成绿色。看好了！” 
医生于是慢慢地把玻璃樽里的柠檬水往杯子里滴了几滴，杯底里立刻就形成一层薄薄的云彩状的沉淀物；这种沉淀物最初呈现蓝色，然后它由翡翠色变成猫眼石色，从猫眼石色变成绿宝石色。变到这种颜色，它就不再变动了。实验的结果已是没有什么好再怀疑的了。 
“这位不幸的巴罗斯是被‘依那脱司’毒死的。”阿夫里尼说，“我不管在上帝还是人的面前都要坚持这项断言。” 
维尔福没有说什么，只是紧紧地握住自己的双手，张大他那一对憔悴的眼睛，瘫软无力地倒在一张椅子里。 
Chapter 80 The Accusation 
 M. D'AVRIGNY soon restored the magistrate to consciousness, who had looked like a second corpse in that chamber of death. "Oh, death is in my house!" cried Villefort. 
"Say, rather, crime!" replied the doctor. 
"M. d'Avrigny," cried Villefort, "I cannot tell you all I feel at this moment,--terror, grief, madness." 
"Yes," said M. d'Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, "but I think it is now time to act. I think it is time to stop this torrent of mortality. I can no longer bear to be in possession of these secrets without the hope of seeing the victims and society generally revenged." Villefort cast a gloomy look around him. "In my house," murmured he, "in my house!" 
"Come, magistrate," said M. d'Avrigny, "show yourself a man; as an interpreter of the law, do honor to your profession by sacrificing your selfish interests to it." 
"You make me shudder, doctor. Do you talk of a sacrifice?" 
"I do." 
"Do you then suspect any one?" 
"I suspect no one; death raps at your door--it enters--it goes, not blindfolded, but circumspectly, from room to room. Well, I follow its course, I track its passage; I adopt the wisdom of the ancients, and feel my way, for my friendship for your family and my respect for you are as a twofold bandage over my eyes; well"-- 
"Oh, speak, speak, doctor; I shall have courage." 
"Well, sir, you have in your establishment, or in your family, perhaps, one of the frightful monstrosities of which each century produces only one. Locusta and Agrippina, living at the same time, were an exception, and proved the determination of providence to effect the entire ruin of the Roman empire, sullied by so many crimes. Brunehilde and Frédégonde were the results of the painful struggle of civilization in its infancy, when man was learning to control mind, were it even by an emissary from the realms of darkness. All these women had been, or were, beautiful. The same flower of innocence had flourished, or was still flourishing, on their brow, that is seen on the brow of the culprit in your house." Villefort shrieked, clasped his hands, and looked at the doctor with a supplicating air. But the latter went on without pity:-- 
"'Seek whom the crime will profit,' says an axiom of jurisprudence." 
"Doctor," cried Villefort, "alas, doctor, how often has man's justice been deceived by those fatal words. I know not why, but I feel that this crime"-- 
"You acknowledge, then, the existence of the crime?" 
"Yes, I see too plainly that it does exist. But it seems that it is intended to affect me personally. I fear an attack myself, after all these disasters." 
"Oh, man," murmured d'Avrigny, "the most selfish of all animals, the most personal of all creatures, who believes the earth turns, the sun shines, and death strikes for him alone,--an ant cursing God from the top of a blade of grass! And have those who have lost their lives lost nothing?--M. de Saint-Méran, Madame de Saint-Méran, M. Noirtier"-- 
"How? M. Noirtier?" 
"Yes; think you it was the poor servant's life was coveted? No, no; like Shakespeare's 'Polonius,' he died for another. It was Noirtier the lemonade was intended for--it is Noirtier, logically speaking, who drank it. The other drank it only by accident, and, although Barrois is dead, it was Noirtier whose death was wished for." 
"But why did it not kill my father?" 
"I told you one evening in the garden after Madame de Saint-Méran's death--because his system is accustomed to that very poison, and the dose was trifling to him, which would be fatal to another; because no one knows, not even the assassin, that, for the last twelve months, I have given M. Noirtier brucine for his paralytic affection, while the assassin is not ignorant, for he has proved that brucine is a violent poison." 
"Oh, have pity--have pity!" murmured Villefort, wringing his hands. 
"Follow the culprit's steps; he first kills M. de Saint-Méran"-- 
"O doctor!" 
"I would swear to it; what I heard of his symptoms agrees too well with what I have seen in the other cases." Villefort ceased to contend; he only groaned. "He first kills M. de Saint-Méran," repeated the doctor, "then Madame de Saint-Méran,--a double fortune to inherit." Villefort wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "Listen attentively." 
"Alas," stammered Villefort, "I do not lose a single word." 
"M. Noirtier," resumed M. d'Avrigny in the same pitiless tone,--"M. Noirtier had once made a will against you--against your family--in favor of the poor, in fact; M. Noirtier is spared, because nothing is expected from him. But he has no sooner destroyed his first will and made a second, than, for fear he should make a third, he is struck down. The will was made the day before yesterday, I believe; you see there has been no time lost." 
"Oh, mercy, M. d'Avrigny!" 
"No mercy, sir! The physician has a sacred mission on earth; and to fulfil it he begins at the source of life, and goes down to the mysterious darkness of the tomb. When crime has been committed, and God, doubtless in anger, turns away his face, it is for the physician to bring the culprit to justice." 
"Have mercy on my child, sir," murmured Villefort. 
"You see it is yourself who have first named her--you, her father." 
"Have pity on Valentine! Listen--it is impossible! I would as willingly accuse myself! Valentine, whose heart is pure as a diamond or a lily." 
"No pity, procureur; the crime is fragrant. Mademoiselle herself packed all the medicines which were sent to M. de Saint-Méran; and M. de Saint-Méran is dead. Mademoiselle de Villefort prepared all the cooling draughts which Madame de Saint-Méran took, and Madame de Saint-Méran is dead. Mademoiselle de Villefort took from the hands of Barrois, who was sent out, the lemonade which M. Noirtier had every morning, and he has escaped by a miracle. Mademoiselle de Villefort is the culprit--she is the poisoner! To you, as the king's attorney, I denounce Mademoiselle de Villefort, do your duty." 
"Doctor, I resist no longer--I can no longer defend myself--I believe you; but, for pity's sake, spare my life, my honor!" 
"M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, with increased vehemence, "there are occasions when I dispense with all foolish human circumspection. If your daughter had committed only one crime, and I saw her meditating another, I would say 'Warn her, punish her, let her pass the remainder of her life in a convent, weeping and praying.' If she had committed two crimes, I would say, 'Here, M. de Villefort, is a poison that the prisoner is not acquainted with,--one that has no known antidote, quick as thought, rapid as lightning, mortal as the thunderbolt; give her that poison, recommending her soul to God, and save your honor and your life, for it is yours she aims at; and I can picture her approaching your pillow with her hypocritical smiles and her sweet exhortations. Woe to you, M. de Villefort, if you do not strike first!' This is what I would say had she only killed two persons but she has seen three deaths,--has contemplated three murdered persons,--has knelt by three corpses! To the scaffold with the poisoner--to the scaffold! Do you talk of your honor? Do what I tell you, and immortality awaits you!" 
Villefort fell on his knees. "Listen," said he; "I have not the strength of mind you have, or rather that which you would not have, if instead of my daughter Valentine your daughter Madeleine were concerned." The doctor turned pale. "Doctor, every son of woman is born to suffer and to die; I am content to suffer and to await death." 
"Beware," said M. d'Avrigny, "it may come slowly; you will see it approach after having struck your father, your wife, perhaps your son." 
Villefort, suffocating, pressed the doctor's arm. "Listen," cried he; "pity me--help me! No, my daughter is not guilty. If you drag us both before a tribunal I will still say, 'No, my daughter is not guilty;--there is no crime in my house. I will not acknowledge a crime in my house; for when crime enters a dwelling, it is like death--it does not come alone.' Listen. What does it signify to you if I am murdered? Are you my friend? Are you a man? Have you a heart? No, you are a physician! Well, I tell you I will not drag my daughter before a tribunal, and give her up to the executioner! The bare idea would kill me--would drive me like a madman to dig my heart out with my finger-nails! And if you were mistaken, doctor--if it were not my daughter--if I should come one day, pale as a spectre, and say to you, 'Assassin, you have killed my child!'--hold--if that should happen, although I am a Christian, M. d'Avrigny, I should kill myself." 
"Well," said the doctor, after a moment's silence, "I will wait." Villefort looked at him as if he had doubted his words. "Only," continued M. d'Avrigny, with a slow and solemn tone, "if any one falls ill in your house, if you feel yourself attacked, do not send for me, for I will come no more. I will consent to share this dreadful secret with you, but I will not allow shame and remorse to grow and increase in my conscience, as crime and misery will in your house." 
"Then you abandon me, doctor?" 
"Yes, for I can follow you no farther, and I only stop at the foot of the scaffold. Some further discovery will be made, which will bring this dreadful tragedy to a close. Adieu." 
"I entreat you, doctor!" 
"All the horrors that disturb my thoughts make your house odious and fatal. Adieu, sir." 
"One word--one single word more, doctor! You go, leaving me in all the horror of my situation, after increasing it by what you have revealed to me. But what will be reported of the sudden death of the poor old servant?" 
"True," said M. d'Avrigny; "we will return." 
The doctor went out first, followed by M. de Villefort. The terrified servants were on the stairs and in the passage where the doctor would pass. "Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, so loud that all might hear, "poor Barrois has led too sedentary a life of late; accustomed formerly to ride on horseback, or in the carriage, to the four corners of Europe, the monotonous walk around that arm-chair has killed him--his blood has thickened. He was stout, had a short, thick neck; he was attacked with apoplexy, and I was called in too late. By the way," added he in a low tone, "take care to throw away that cup of syrup of violets in the ashes." 
The doctor, without shaking hands with Villefort, without adding a word to what he had said, went out, amid the tears and lamentations of the whole household. The same evening all Villefort's servants, who had assembled in the kitchen, and had a long consultation, came to tell Madame de Villefort that they wished to leave. No entreaty, no proposition of increased wages, could induce them to remain; to every argument they replied, "We must go, for death is in this house." They all left, in spite of prayers and entreaties, testifying their regret at leaving so good a master and mistress, and especially Mademoiselle Valentine, so good, so kind, and so gentle. Villefort looked at Valentine as they said this. She was in tears, and, strange as it was, in spite of the emotions he felt at the sight of these tears, he looked also at Madame de Villefort, and it appeared to him as if a slight gloomy smile had passed over her thin lips, like a meteor seen passing inauspiciously between two clouds in a stormy sky.  
没有多久阿夫里尼先生就让那个法官苏醒了过来，他看上去好象是那回屋里的第二具尸体。 
“噢，死神已来到我的家里了！”维尔福喊道。 
“还是说罪神吧！”医生答道。 
“阿夫里尼先生，”维尔福喊道，“我无法跟您说我此时的各种感触——恐怖、忧愁、疯狂。” 
“是的，”阿夫里尼先生用一种郑重平静的口气说，“但我觉着现在是该采取行动的时候了。我认为现在是阻止这种死亡的时候了。我既然知道了这些秘密，就希望看到有人要为死去的人和社会报仇雪恨。” 
维尔福用忧郁的目光向四周环顾了一下。“在我家里！”他无力地说，“在我家里！” 
“我说，法官，”阿夫里尼先生说，“拿出男子汉的勇气来，您是法律的喉舌，牺牲您一己的私利来为您的职守增光吧。” 
“您把我吓坏了，医生！您说的是要牺牲吗？” 
“我是这么说的。” 
“那么您怀疑到谁了吗？” 
“我没有怀疑谁。死神一个劲儿地敲您的门，它进来了，它在徘徊了，它倒不是盲目乱走，而是仔细地从一个房间到另一个房间地巡逻过去的。哼！我跟踪着它的路线，找出了它行进的踪迹，我采用古人聪明的办法，摸索我的途径，因为我对你们家的友谊和对您的尊敬好象是一条双折的绑带蒙住了我的眼睛，嗯——” 
“噢！说吧，说吧，医生，我有勇气听的。” 
“嗯，先生，在您的房子里，在您的家里，也许也出现了一个每个世纪都产生过一次的那种可怕的现象。罗迦丝泰和爱格丽琵娜［公元一世纪时，罗马皇后爱格丽琵娜借罗迦丝泰之助毒死当皇帝的叔父，以便使其前夫之子尼罗继位。——译注］生在同一时辰只是一个例外，这证明天意决定要使那罪恶万端的罗马帝国整个儿变成废墟。布伦霍德和弗丽蒂贡第［布伦霍德是六世纪时欧洲古国奥斯达拉西亚王后，其妹嫁给纽斯特亚王契尔帕里克。契尔帕里克在情妇弗丽蒂贡第挑唆下杀了妻子，布伦霍德为其妹报仇，唆使丈夫向契尔帕里克发动战争。契尔帕里克战败，但布伦霍德的丈夫也被弗丽蒂贡第派人暗杀。——译注］是文化在它婴儿时代痛苦挣扎的产物，那时人类正在学习控制思想，所以即使从黑暗世界里派来的使者也会受欢迎。这些女人都是，或曾经是很美丽的。她们的额头上曾经开过纯洁的花朵，而在您家里的那个嫌疑犯的额头上，现在也正盛开着那种同样的花。” 
维尔福惊叫了一声，紧扭着自己的双手，以一种恳求的神气望着医生。而后者毫不怜悯地继续说下去：“法学上有一句格言：‘从唯利是图的人身上去找嫌疑犯。’” 
“医生，”维尔福喊道，“唉，医生！司法界因为这句话上过多少次当呀！我知道为什么，但我觉得这件罪恶——” 
“那么，您承认罪恶是存在的罗？” 
“是的，它的确是存在着的，我看得太清楚了。但我相信它只针对我一个人，而不是去世的那几位。在这一切古怪的祸事以后，我深恐自己还要受到一次袭击。” 
“噢，人哪！”阿夫里尼愤愤地说道，“一切动物中最自负、最自私的动物呀，他相信地球只为他一个人而旋转，太阳只为他一个人而照耀，而死神也只打击他一个人——等于一只蚂蚁站在一片草尖上诅咒上帝！那些人难道就白白地失去了他们的生命吗？”圣·梅朗先生，圣·梅朗夫人，诺瓦蒂埃先生。” 
“怎么，诺瓦蒂埃先生？” 
“是的，您以为这次是存心要害那个可怜的仆人的吗？不，不，他就象莎士比亚剧本里的波罗纽斯［莎士比亚戏剧《哈姆雷特》里被误杀的老臣——译注］只是一个替死鬼而已。柠檬水本来是准备给诺瓦蒂埃喝的，从逻辑上讲，喝柠檬水的应该是诺瓦蒂埃。别人喝了它纯属偶然，虽然死了的是巴罗斯，但本来预备害死的却是诺瓦蒂埃。” 
“为什么家父喝了竟没有死呢？” 
“其原因我已在圣·梅朗夫人去世的那天晚上在花园里对您讲过了。因为他的身体已受惯了那种毒药。谁都不知道，甚至那个暗杀者也不知道在过去的十二个月里，我曾给诺瓦蒂埃先生服用木鳖精治疗他的瘫痪病。而那个暗杀者只知道，他是从经验中确信木鳖精是一种剧烈的毒药。” 
“我的上帝！我的上帝！”维尔福扭着双手喃喃地说。 
“让我们来看一下那个罪犯是如何杀人的吧：他最先杀死了圣·梅朗先生——” 
“噢，医生！” 
“我敢发誓的确如此。以我所听到的来说，他的病症和我亲眼看到的那两次病症简直太相似了。”维尔福停止了争辩，呻吟了一声。“他最先杀死了圣·梅朗先生，”医生重复说，“然后圣·梅朗夫人，这样就可以继承两笔财产。” 
维尔福抹了一把前额上的汗珠。 
“留心听着。” 
“唉！”维尔福结结巴巴地说道，“我一个字也没漏掉呀。” 
“诺瓦蒂埃先生，”阿夫里尼先生继续用同样无情的口吻说道，“诺瓦蒂埃先生曾立过一张不利于您，不利于您的家庭的遗嘱。他要把他的财产去资助穷人。诺瓦蒂埃先生被饶赦了，因为他身上已没什么可指望的了。但当他一旦销毁了他的第一张遗嘱，又立了第二张的时候，为了怕他再改变主意，他就遭了暗算。遗嘱是前天才修改的，我相信。您也看得出，时间安排得很紧凑。” 
“噢，发发慈悲吧，阿夫里尼先生！” 
“没什么可发慈悲的，阁下！医生在世界上有一项神圣使命，为了履行那使命，他得从生命的来源开始探索到神秘的死亡。当罪恶发生的时候，上帝一定极为震怒，但假如他掉头不管的话，那么医生就应该把那个罪人带到法庭上去。” 
“可怜可怜我的孩子吧，阁下！”维尔福轻声地说道。 
“您看，是您自己先把她提出来的，是您，她的父亲。” 
“可怜可怜瓦朗蒂娜吧！听我说！这是不可能的。我情愿归罪于我自己！瓦朗蒂娜！她有着一颗钻石的心，她就象一枝纯洁的水仙！” 
“没什么可以可怜的，检察官阁下。这桩罪恶已经明显了。寄给圣·梅朗先生的一切药品都是小姐亲自包扎的，而圣·梅朗先生死了。圣·梅朗夫人所用的冷饮也都是维尔福小姐调制的，圣·梅朗夫人也死了。诺瓦蒂埃先生每天早晨所喝的柠檬水，虽然是巴罗斯调制的，但他却临时被支走了，由维尔福小姐接手端了上去，诺瓦蒂埃先生之幸免一死，只是一个奇迹。维尔福小姐就是嫌疑犯！她就是罪犯！检察官阁下，我要告发维尔福小姐，尽您的职责吧。” 
“医生，我不再坚持了。我不再为自己辩护了。我相信您，但请您发发慈悲，饶了我的性命，饶了我的名誉吧！” 
“维尔福先生，”医生愈来愈激愤地答道，“我常常顾及愚蠢的人情。假如令爱只犯了一次罪，而我又看到她在预谋第二次犯罪，我会说：‘警告她，惩罚她，让她到一家修道院里在哭泣和祈祷中度过她的余生吧。’假如她犯了两次罪，我就会说：‘维尔福先生，这儿有一种那个罪犯不认识的毒药，它象思想一样敏捷，象闪电一样迅速，象霹雳一样厉害。给她吃这种毒药吧，把她的灵魂交给上帝吧，救您的名誉和您的性命，因为她的目标就是您。我能想象得到她会带着她那种虚伪的微笑和她那种甜蜜的劝告走近您的枕边。维尔福先生，假如您不先下手，您就要遭殃啦！’假如她只杀死了两个，我就会那样说。但是她已经目击了三次死亡，已经蓄意谋杀了三个人，已经接近过三个尸体啦！把那个罪犯送上断头台吧！送上断头台吧！您不是说要保全您的名誉吗？照我说的去做吧，不朽的名誉在等待您了！” 
维尔福跪了下来。“听我说，”他说道，我承认自己不如您那样坚强，或是，说得更确切些，假如这次连累的不是我的女儿瓦朗蒂娜而是您的女儿梅蒂兰，您的决心也就会不那么坚强了。”医生的脸色顿时变白了。“医生，每个女人的儿子天生就是为了受苦和等死而来的，我情愿受苦，情愿等死。” 
“小心啊！”阿夫里尼先生说，“它或许是慢慢地来的。在袭击了您的父亲以后，您就会看到它来袭击您的太太，或您的儿子了。” 
维尔福紧紧地拉住医生的胳膊，激动得喘不过气来。“听着！”他太声说道，“可怜我，帮帮我吧！不，我女儿是无罪的。假如您把我们父女两个拖到法庭上去，我还是要说：‘不，我女儿是无罪的，我家里没出什么罪案。我不承认我家里有一名罪犯，因为当罪犯走进一座房子的时候，它就象死神一样，是不会独自来的。’听着！要是我被人谋害了，那跟您又有什么关系呢？您是我的朋友吗？您是人吗？您有良心吗？不，您只是一个医生！嗯，我告诉您，我不愿意把我的女儿拖到法庭上去，我不愿意把她交给刽子手！这种念头单是想一想就足以杀死我——足以逼得我象疯子似的用我的指甲把自己的心挖出来。如果您猜错了呢，医生！假如那不是我女儿呢！假如有一天，我会惨白得象一个鬼似的来对您说：‘刽子手！您杀了我的女儿！’那时又怎么办呢？听着！假如真的发生了那样的事情，阿夫里尼先生，我是个基督徒，我也要自杀的。” 
“好吧，”医生在沉默了一会儿说道．“我等着看吧。”维尔福呆瞪瞪地望着他，象是听不懂他的话似的。“只是，”阿夫里尼先生用一种缓慢庄严的口吻继续说，“假如您家里再有人生了病，假如您感到自己已受到了袭击，不要再来找我，因为我不会再来了。我同意为您保守这可怕的秘密，但我不愿意在我的良心上再增加羞愧和悔恨，象您的家里增加罪恶和痛苦一样。” 
“那么您不管我了吗，医生？” 
“是的，因为我不能再跟着您往前走了，我只能在断头台的脚下止步。再走近一步就会使这一幕可怕的悲剧宣告结束。告别了。” 
“我求求您，医生！” 
“我的心绪已被这种种恐怖的现象给搅乱了，我觉得您这间屋子很阴沉很可怕。告别了，阁下。” 
“再说一句话，只一句话，医生。我的处境本来已够可怕的了，经您这么一揭露，就更恐怖了。您撇下我走了，但这个可怜的老仆人死得这样突然，我怎么去对外人解释呢？” 
“不错，”阿夫里尼先生说，“送我出去吧。” 
医生先走了出去，维尔福先生跟在他后面；一群吓呆了的仆人聚集在走廊的楼梯口处，这是医生的必经之路。“阁下，”阿夫里尼对维尔福说，声音很响，使大家都能听得到，“可怜的巴罗斯近来的生活太平静了，他以前老是跟着他的主人车马劳顿地在欧洲东奔西走，而近来则始终只在那圈椅旁边侍候，这种单调的生活害死了他。他的血液太浓了，他的身体太胖了，他的脖子又短又粗，他这次是中风，我来得太迟了。顺便告诉您，”他压低了声音道，“注意把那杯堇菜汁倒在炉灰里。” 
医生并没和维尔福握手，也没再多说一句话，就这样在全家人的哀泣和悲叹声中走了出去。当天晚上，维尔福的全体仆人聚集在厨房里，商量了很久，最后出来告诉维尔福夫人，说他们都要走了。任何恳求和增加工钱的提议也留不住他们了；不管你怎么说，他们一个劲地说：“我们是非走不可了，因为死神已经进了这座房子了。”他们终于全都走了，同时还表示他们很舍不得离开这样好的主人和主妇，尤其是瓦朗蒂娜小姐，这样好心、这样仁慈、这样温和。当他们说这几句话的时候，维尔福望着瓦朗蒂娜。她已成了一个泪人儿。 
然后一件怪事发生了：在这一片哭泣声中，他也望了维尔福夫人一眼，他好象看见她那两片削薄的嘴唇上掠过了一个阴险的微笑，就象是在一个乌云四起的天空上从两片云中间倏地掠过的流星一般。 
Chapter 81 The Room of the Retired Baker
 THE EVENING of the day on which the Count of Morcerf had left Danglars' house with feelings of shame and anger at the rejection of the projected alliance, M. Andrea Cavalcanti, with curled hair, mustaches in perfect order, and white gloves which fitted admirably, had entered the courtyard of the banker's house in La Chaussée d'Antin. He had not been more than ten minutes in the drawing-room before he drew Danglars aside into the recess of a bow-window, and, after an ingenious preamble, related to him all his anxieties and cares since his noble father's departure. He acknowledged the extreme kindness which had been shown him by the banker's family, in which he had been received as a son, and where, besides, his warmest affections had found an object on which to centre in Mademoiselle Danglars. Danglars listened with the most profound attention; he had expected this declaration for the last two or three days, and when at last it came his eyes glistened as much as they had lowered on listening to Morcerf. He would not, however, yield immediately to the young man's request, but made a few conscientious objections. "Are you not rather young, M. Andrea, to think of marrying?" 
"I think not, sir," replied M. Cavalcanti; "in Italy the nobility generally marry young. Life is so uncertain, that we ought to secure happiness while it is within our reach." 
"Well, sir," said Danglars, "in case your proposals, which do me honor, are accepted by my wife and daughter, by whom shall the preliminary arrangements be settled? So important a negotiation should, I think, be conducted by the respective fathers of the young people." 
"Sir, my father is a man of great foresight and prudence. Thinking that I might wish to settle in France, he left me at his departure, together with the papers establishing my identity, a letter promising, if he approved of my choice, 150,000 livres per annum from the day I was married. So far as I can judge, I suppose this to be a quarter of my father's revenue." 
"I," said Danglars, "have always intended giving my daughter 500,000 francs as her dowry; she is, besides, my sole heiress." 
"All would then be easily arranged if the baroness and her daughter are willing. We should command an annuity of 175,000 livres. Supposing, also, I should persuade the marquis to give me my capital, which is not likely, but still is possible, we would place these two or three millions in your hands, whose talent might make it realize ten per cent." 
"I never give more than four per cent, and generally only three and a half; but to my son-in-law I would give five, and we would share the profit." 
"Very good, father-in-law," said Cavalcanti, yielding to his low-born nature, which would escape sometimes through the aristocratic gloss with which he sought to conceal it. Correcting himself immediately, he said, "Excuse me, sir; hope alone makes me almost mad,--what will not reality do?" 
"But," said Danglars,--who, on his part, did not perceive how soon the conversation, which was at first disinterested, was turning to a business transaction,--"there is, doubtless, a part of your fortune your father could not refuse you?" 
"Which?" asked the young man. 
"That you inherit from your mother." 
"Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari." 
"How much may it amount to?" 
"Indeed, sir," said Andrea, "I assure you I have never given the subject a thought, but I suppose it must have been at least two millions." Danglars felt as much overcome with joy as the miser who finds a lost treasure, or as the shipwrecked mariner who feels himself on solid ground instead of in the abyss which he expected would swallow him up. 
"Well, sir," said Andrea, bowing to the banker respectfully, "may I hope?" 
"You may not only hope," said Danglars, "but consider it a settled thing, if no obstacle arises on your part." 
"I am, indeed, rejoiced," said Andrea. 
"But," said Danglars thoughtfully, "how is it that your patron, M. de Monte Cristo, did not make his proposal for you?" Andrea blushed imperceptibly. "I have just left the count, sir," said he; "he is, doubtless, a delightful man but inconceivably peculiar in his ideas. He esteems me highly. He even told me he had not the slightest doubt that my father would give me the capital instead of the interest of my property. He has promised to use his influence to obtain it for me; but he also declared that he never had taken on himself the responsibility of making proposals for another, and he never would. I must, however, do him the justice to add that he assured me if ever he had regretted the repugnance he felt to such a step it was on this occasion, because he thought the projected union would be a happy and suitable one. Besides, if he will do nothing officially, he will answer any questions you propose to him. And now," continued he, with one of his most charming smiles, "having finished talking to the father-in-law, I must address myself to the banker." 
"And what may you have to say to him?" said Danglars, laughing in his turn. 
"That the day after to-morrow I shall have to draw upon you for about four thousand francs; but the count, expecting my bachelor's revenue could not suffice for the coming month's outlay, has offered me a draft for twenty thousand francs. It bears his signature, as you see, which is all-sufficient." 
"Bring me a million such as that," said Danglars, "I shall be well pleased," putting the draft in his pocket. "Fix your own hour for to-morrow, and my cashier shall call on you with a check for eighty thousand francs." 
"At ten o'clock then, if you please; I should like it early, as I am going into the country to-morrow." 
"Very well, at ten o'clock;, you are still at the H?tel des Princes?" 
"Yes." 
The following morning, with the banker's usual punctuality, the eighty thousand francs were placed in the young man's hands as he was on the point of starting, after having left two hundred francs for Caderousse. He went out chiefly to avoid this dangerous enemy, and returned as late as possible in the evening. But scarcely had be stepped out of his carriage when the porter met him with a parcel in his hand. "Sir," said he, "that man has been here." 
"What man?" said Andrea carelessly, apparently forgetting him whom he but too well recollected. 
"Him to whom your excellency pays that little annuity." 
"Oh," said Andrea, "my father's old servant. Well, you gave him the two hundred francs I had left for him?" 
"Yes, your excellency." Andrea had expressed a wish to be thus addressed. "But," continued the porter, "he would not take them." Andrea turned pale, but as it was dark his pallor was not perceptible. "What? he would not take them?" said he with slight emotion. 
"No, he wished to speak to your excellency; I told him you were gone out, and after some dispute he believed me and gave me this letter, which he had brought with him already sealed." 
"Give it me," said Andrea, and he read by the light of his carriage-lamp,--"You know where I live; I expect you tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." 
Andrea examined it carefully, to ascertain if the letter had been opened, or if any indiscreet eyes had seen its contents; but it was so carefully folded, that no one could have read it, and the seal was perfect. "Very well," said he. "Poor man, he is a worthy creature." He left the porter to ponder on these words, not knowing which most to admire, the master or the servant. "Take out the horses quickly, and come up to me," said Andrea to his groom. In two seconds the young man had reached his room and burnt Caderousse's letter. The servant entered just as he had finished. "You are about my height, Pierre," said he. 
"I have that honor, your excellency." 
"You had a new livery yesterday?" 
"Yes, sir." 
"I have an engagement with a pretty little girl for this evening, and do not wish to be known; lend me your livery till to-morrow. I may sleep, perhaps, at an inn." Pierre obeyed. Five minutes after, Andrea left the hotel, completely disguised, took a cabriolet, and ordered the driver to take him to the Cheval Rouge, at Picpus. The next morning he left that inn as he had left the H?tel des Princes, without being noticed, walked down the Faubourg St. Antoine, along the boulevard to Rue Ménilmontant, and stopping at the door of the third house on the left looked for some one of whom to make inquiry in the porter's absence. "For whom are you looking, my fine fellow?" asked the fruiteress on the opposite side. 
"Monsieur Pailletin, if you please, my good woman," replied Andrea. 
"A retired baker?" asked the fruiteress. 
"Exactly." 
"He lives at the end of the yard, on the left, on the third story." Andrea went as she directed him, and on the third floor he found a hare's paw, which, by the hasty ringing of the bell, it was evident he pulled with considerable ill-temper. A moment after Caderousse's face appeared at the grating in the door. "Ah, you are punctual," said he, as he drew back the door. 
"Confound you and your punctuality!" said Andrea, throwing himself into a chair in a manner which implied that he would rather have flung it at the head of his host. 
"Come, come, my little fellow, don't be angry. See, I have thought about you--look at the good breakfast we are going to have; nothing but what you are fond of." Andrea, indeed, inhaled the scent of something cooking which was not unwelcome to him, hungry as he was; it was that mixture of fat and garlic peculiar to provincial kitchens of an inferior order, added to that of dried fish, and above all, the pungent smell of musk and cloves. These odors escaped from two deep dishes which were covered and placed on a stove, and from a copper pan placed in an old iron pot. In an adjoining room Andrea saw also a tolerably clean table prepared for two, two bottles of wine sealed, the one with green, the other with yellow, a supply of brandy in a decanter, and a measure of fruit in a cabbage-leaf, cleverly arranged on an earthenware plate. 
"What do you think of it, my little fellow?" said Caderousse. "Ay, that smells good! You know I used to be a famous cook; do you recollect how you used to lick your fingers? You were among the first who tasted any of my dishes, and I think you relished them tolerably." While speaking, Caderousse went on peeling a fresh supply of onions. 
"But," said Andrea, ill-temperedly, "by my faith, if it was only to breakfast with you, that you disturbed me, I wish the devil had taken you!" 
"My boy," said Caderousse sententiously, "one can talk while eating. And then, you ungrateful being, you are not pleased to see an old friend? I am weeping with joy." He was truly crying, but it would have been difficult to say whether joy or the onions produced the greatest effect on the lachrymal glands of the old inn-keeper of the Pont-du-Gard. "Hold your tongue, hypocrite," said Andrea; "you love me!" 
"Yes, I do, or may the devil take me. I know it is a weakness," said Caderousse, "but it overpowers me." 
"And yet it has not prevented your sending for me to play me some trick." 
"Come," said Caderousse, wiping his large knife on his apron, "if I did not like you, do you think I should endure the wretched life you lead me? Think for a moment. You have your servant's clothes on--you therefore keep a servant; I have none, and am obliged to prepare my own meals. You abuse my cookery because you dine at the table d'h&ocitc;te of the H?tel des Princes, or the Café de Paris. Well, I too could keep a servant; I too could have a tilbury; I too could dine where I like; but why do I not? Because I would not annoy my little Benedetto. Come, just acknowledge that I could, eh?" This address was accompanied by a look which was by no means difficult to understand. "Well," said Andrea, "admitting your love, why do you want me to breakfast with you?" 
"That I may have the pleasure of seeing you, my little fellow." 
"What is the use of seeing me after we have made all our arrangements?" 
"Eh, dear friend," said Caderousse, "are wills ever made without codicils? But you first came to breakfast, did you not? Well, sit down, and let us begin with these pilchards, and this fresh butter; which I have put on some vine-leaves to please you, wicked one. Ah, yes; you look at my room, my four straw chairs, my images, three francs each. But what do you expect? This is not the H?tel des Princes." 
"Come, you are growing discontented, you are no longer happy; you, who only wish to live like a retired baker." Caderousse sighed. "Well, what have you to say? you have seen your dream realized." 
"I can still say it is a dream; a retired baker, my poor Benedetto, is rich--he has an annuity." 
"Well, you have an annuity." 
"I have?" 
"Yes, since I bring you your two hundred francs." Caderousse shrugged his shoulders. "It is humiliating," said he, "thus to receive money given grudgingly, ---an uncertain supply which may soon fail. You see I am obliged to economize, in case your prosperity should cease. Well, my friend, fortune is inconstant, as the chaplain of the regiment said. I know your prosperity is great, you rascal; you are to marry the daughter of Danglars." 
"What? of Danglars?" 
"Yes, to be sure; must I say Baron Danglars? I might as well say Count Benedetto. He was an old friend of mine and if he had not so bad a memory he ought to invite me to your wedding, seeing he came to mine. Yes, yes, to mine; gad, he was not so proud then,--he was an under-clerk to the good M. Morrel. I have dined many times with him and the Count of Morcerf, so you see I have some high connections and were I to cultivate them a little, we might meet in the same drawing-rooms." 
"Come, your jealousy represents everything to you in the wrong light." 
"That is all very fine, Benedetto mio, but I know what I am saying. Perhaps I may one day put on my best coat, and presenting myself at the great gate, introduce myself. Meanwhile let us sit down and eat." Caderousse set the example and attacked the breakfast with good appetite, praising each dish he set before his visitor. The latter seemed to have resigned himself; he drew the corks, and partook largely of the fish with the garlic and fat. "Ah, mate," said Caderousse, "you are getting on better terms with your old landlord!" 
"Faith, yes," replied Andrea, whose hunger prevailed over every other feeling. 
"So you like it, you rogue?" 
"So much that I wonder how a man who can cook thus can complain of hard living." 
"Do you see," said Caderousse, "all my happiness is marred by one thought?" 
"What is that?" 
"That I am dependent on another, I who have always gained my own livelihood honestly." 
"Do not let that disturb you, I have enough for two." 
"No, truly; you may believe me if you will; at the end of every month I am tormented by remorse." 
"Good Caderousse!" 
"So much so, that yesterday I would not take the two hundred francs." 
"Yes, you wished to speak to me; but was it indeed remorse, tell me?" 
"True remorse; and, besides, an idea had struck me." Andrea shuddered; he always did so at Caderousse's ideas. "It is miserable--do you see?--always to wait till the end of the month.--"Oh," said Andrea philosophically, determined to watch his companion narrowly, "does not life pass in waiting? Do I, for instance, fare better? Well, I wait patiently, do I not?" 
"Yes; because instead of expecting two hundred wretched francs, you expect five or six thousand, perhaps ten, perhaps even twelve, for you take care not to let any one know the utmost. Down there, you always had little presents and Christmas-boxes which you tried to hide from your poor friend Caderousse. Fortunately he is a cunning fellow, that friend Caderousse." 
"There you are beginning again to ramble, to talk again and again of the past! But what is the use of teasing me with going all over that again?" 
"Ah, you are only one and twenty, and can forget the past; I am fifty, and am obliged to recollect it. But let us return to business." 
"Yes." 
"I was going to say, if I were in your place"-- 
"Well." 
"I would realize"-- 
"How would you realize?" 
"I would ask for six months' in advance, under pretence of being able to purchase a farm, then with my six months I would decamp." 
"Well, well," said Andrea, "that isn't a bad idea." 
"My dear friend," said Caderousse, "eat of my bread, and take my advice; you will be none the worse off, physically or morally." 
"But," said Andrea, "why do you not act on the advice you gave me? Why do you not realize a six months', a year's advance even, and retire to Brussels? Instead of living the retired baker, you might live as a bankrupt, using his privileges; that would be very good." 
"But how the devil would you have me retire on twelve hundred francs?" 
"Ah, Caderousse," said Andrea, "how covetous you are! Two months ago you were dying with hunger." 
"The appetite grows by what it feeds on," said Caderousse, grinning and showing his teeth, like a monkey laughing or a tiger growling. "And," added he, biting off with his large white teeth an enormous mouthful of bread, "I have formed a plan." Caderousse's plans alarmed Andrea still more than his ideas; ideas were but the germ, the plan was reality. "Let me see your plan; I dare say it is a pretty one." 
"Why not? Who formed the plan by which we left the establishment of M ----! eh? was it not I? and it was no bad one I believe, since here we are!" 
"I do not say," replied Andrea, "that you never make a good one; but let us see your plan." 
"Well," pursued Caderousse, "can you without expending one sou, put me in the way of getting fifteen thousand francs? No, fifteen thousand are not enough,--I cannot again become an honest man with less than thirty thousand francs." 
"No," replied Andrea, dryly, "no, I cannot." 
"I do not think you understand me," replied Caderousse, calmly; "I said without your laying out a sou." 
"Do you want me to commit a robbery, to spoil all my good fortune--and yours with mine--and both of us to be dragged down there again?" 
"It would make very little difference to me," said Caderousse, "if I were retaken, I am a poor creature to live alone, and sometimes pine for my old comrades; not like you, heartless creature, who would be glad never to see them again." Andrea did more than tremble this time, he turned pale. 
"Come, Caderousse, no nonsense!" said he. 
"Don't alarm yourself, my little Benedetto, but just point out to me some means of gaining those thirty thousand francs without your assistance, and I will contrive it." 
"Well, I'll see--I'll try to contrive some way," said Andrea. 
"Meanwhile you will raise my monthly allowance to five hundred francs, my little fellow? I have a fancy, and mean to get a housekeeper." 
"Well, you shall have your five hundred francs," said Andrea; "but it is very hard for me, my poor Caderousse--you take advantage"-- 
"Bah," said Caderousse, "when you have access to countless stores." One would have said Andrea anticipated his companion's words, so did his eye flash like lightning, but it was but for a moment. "True," he replied, "and my protector is very kind." 
"That dear protector," said Caderousse; "and how much does he give you monthly?" 
"Five thousand francs." 
"As many thousands as you give me hundreds! Truly, it is only bastards who are thus fortunate. Five thousand francs per month! What the devil can you do with all that?" 
"Oh, it is no trouble to spend that; and I am like you, I want capital." 
"Capital?--yes--I understand--every one would like capital." 
"Well, and I shall get it." 
"Who will give it to you--your prince?" 
"Yes, my prince. But unfortunately I must wait." 
"You must wait for what?" asked Caderousse. 
"For his death " 
"The death of your prince?" 
"Yes." 
"How so?" 
"Because he has made his will in my favor." 
"Indeed?" 
"On my honor." 
"For how much?" 
"For five hundred thousand." 
"Only that? It's little enough " 
"But so it is." 
"No it cannot be!" 
"Are you my friend, Caderousse?" 
"Yes, in life or death." 
"Well, I will tell you a secret." 
"What is it?" 
"But remember"-- 
"Ah, mute as a carp." 
"Well, I think"--Andrea stopped and looked around. 
"You think? Do not fear; pardieu, we are alone." 
"I think I have discovered my father." 
"Your true father?" 
"Yes." 
"Not old Cavalcanti?" 
"No, for he has gone again; the true one, as you say." 
"And that father is"-- 
"Well, Caderousse, it is Monte Cristo." 
"Bah!" 
"Yes, you understand, that explains all. He cannot acknowledge me openly, it appears, but he does it through M. Cavalcanti, and gives him fifty thousand francs for it." 
"Fifty thousand francs for being your father? I would have done it for half that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen thousand; why did you not think of me, ungrateful man?" 
"Did I know anything about it, when it was all done when I was down there?" 
"Ah, truly? And you say that by his will"-- 
"He leaves me five hundred thousand livres." 
"Are you sure of it?" 
"He showed it me; but that is not all--there is a codicil, as I said just now." 
"Probably." 
"And in that codicil he acknowledges me." 
"Oh, the good father, the brave father, the very honest father!" said Caderousse, twirling a plate in the air between his two hands. 
"Now say if I conceal anything from you?" 
"No, and your confidence makes you honorable in my opinion; and your princely father, is he rich, very rich?" 
"Yes, he is that; he does not himself know the amount of his fortune." 
"Is it possible?" 
"It is evident enough to me, who am always at his house. The other day a banker's clerk brought him fifty thousand francs in a portfolio about the size of your plate; yesterday his banker brought him a hundred thousand francs in gold." Caderousse was filled with wonder; the young man's words sounded to him like metal, and he thought he could hear the rushing of cascades of louis. "And you go into that house?" cried he briskly. 
"When I like." 
Caderousse was thoughtful for a moment. It was easy to perceive he was revolving some unfortunate idea in his mind. Then suddenly,--"How I should like to see all that," cried he; "how beautiful it must be!" 
"It is, in fact, magnificent," said Andrea. 
"And does he not live in the Champs-Elysées?" 
"Yes, No. 30." 
"Ah," said Caderousse, "No. 30." 
"Yes, a fine house standing alone, between a court-yard and a garden,--you must know it." 
"Possibly; but it is not the exterior I care for, it is the interior. What beautiful furniture there must be in it!" 
"Have you ever seen the Tuileries?" 
"No." 
"Well, it surpasses that." 
"It must be worth one's while to stoop, Andrea, when that good M. Monte Cristo lets fall his purse." 
"It is not worth while to wait for that," said Andrea; "money is as plentiful in that house as fruit in an orchard." 
"But you should take me there one day with you." 
"How can I? On what plea?" 
"You are right; but you have made my mouth water. I must absolutely see it; I shall find a way." 
"No nonsense, Caderousse!" 
"I will offer myself as floor-polisher." 
"The rooms are all carpeted." 
"Well, then, I must be contented to imagine it." 
"That is the best plan, believe me." 
"Try, at least, to give me an idea of what it is." 
"How can I?" 
"Nothing is easier. Is it large?" 
"Middling." 
"How is it arranged?" 
"Faith, I should require pen, ink, and paper to make a plan." 
"They are all here," said Caderousse, briskly. He fetched from an old secretary a sheet of white paper and pen and ink. "Here," said Caderousse, "draw me all that on the paper, my boy." Andrea took the pen with an imperceptible smile and began. "The house, as I said, is between the court and the garden; in this way, do you see?" Andrea drew the garden, the court and the house. 
"High walls?" 
"Not more than eight or ten feet." 
"That is not prudent," said Caderousse. 
"In the court are orange-trees in pots, turf, and clumps of flowers." 
"And no steel-traps?" 
"No." 
"The stables?" 
"Are on either side of the gate, which you see there." And Andrea continued his plan. 
"Let us see the ground floor," said Caderousse. 
"On the ground-floor, dining-room, two drawing-rooms, billiard-room, staircase in the hall, and a little back staircase." 
"Windows?" 
"Magnificent windows, so beautiful, so large, that I believe a man of your size should pass through each frame." 
"Why the devil have they any stairs with such windows?" 
"Luxury has everything." 
"But shutters?" 
"Yes, but they are never used. That Count of Monte Cristo is an original, who loves to look at the sky even at night." 
"And where do the servants sleep?" 
"Oh, they have a house to themselves. Picture to yourself a pretty coach-house at the right-hand side where the ladders are kept. Well, over that coach-house are the servants' rooms, with bells corresponding with the different apartments." 
"Ah, diable--bells did you say?" 
"What do you mean?" 
"Oh. nothing! I only say they cost a load of money to hang, and what is the use of them, I should like to know?" 
"There used to be a dog let loose in the yard at night, but it has been taken to the house at Auteuil, to that you went to, you know." 
"Yes." 
"I was saying to him only yesterday, 'You are imprudent, Monsieur Count; for when you go to Auteuil and take your servants the house is left unprotected.' Well,' said he, 'what next?' 'Well, next, some day you will be robbed.'" 
"What did he answer?" 
"He quietly said, 'What do I care if I am?'" 
"Andrea, he has some secretary with a spring." 
"How do you know?" 
"Yes, which catches the thief in a trap and plays a tune. I was told there were such at the last exhibition." 
"He has simply a mahogany secretary, in which the key is always kept." 
"And he is not robbed?" 
"No; his servants are all devoted to him." 
"There ought to be some money in that secretary?" 
"There may be. No one knows what there is." 
"And where is it?" 
"On the first floor." 
"Sketch me the plan of that floor, as you have done of the ground floor, my boy." 
"That is very simple." Andrea took the pen. "On the first story, do you see, there is the anteroom and the drawing-room; to the right of the drawing-room, a library and a study; to the left, a bedroom and a dressing-room. The famous secretary is in the dressing-room." 
"Is there a window in the dressing-room?" 
"Two,--one here and one there." Andrea sketched two windows in the room, which formed an angle on the plan, and appeared as a small square added to the rectangle of the bedroom. Caderousse became thoughtful. "Does he often go to Auteuil?" added he. 
"Two or three times a week. To-morrow, for instance, he is going to spend the day and night there." 
"Are you sure of it?" 
"He has invited me to dine there." 
"There's a life for you," said Caderousse; "a town house and a country house." 
"That is what it is to be rich." 
"And shall you dine there?" 
"Probably." 
"When you dine there, do you sleep there?" 
"If I like; I am at home there." Caderousse looked at the young man, as if to get at the truth from the bottom of his heart. But Andrea drew a cigar-case from his pocket, took a havana, quietly lit it, and began smoking. "When do you want your twelve hundred francs?" said he to Caderousse. 
"Now, if you have them." Andrea took five and twenty louis from his pocket. 
"Yellow boys?" said Caderousse; "no, I thank you." 
"Oh, you despise them." 
"On the contrary, I esteem them, but will not have them." 
"You can change them, idiot; gold is worth five sous." 
"Exactly; and he who changes them will follow friend Caderousse, lay hands on him, and demand what farmers pay him their rent in gold. No nonsense, my good fellow; silver simply, round coins with the head of some monarch or other on them. Anybody may possess a five-franc piece." 
"But do you suppose I carry five hundred francs about with me? I should want a porter." 
"Well, leave them with your porter; he is to be trusted. I will call for them." 
"To-day?" 
"No, to-morrow; I shall not have time to day." 
"Well, to-morrow I will leave them when I go to Auteuil." 
"May I depend on it?" 
"Certainly." 
"Because I shall secure my housekeeper on the strength of it." 
"Now see here, will that be all? Eh? And will you not torment me any more?" 
"Never." Caderousse had become so gloomy that Andrea feared he should be obliged to notice the change. He redoubled his gayety and carelessness. "How sprightly you are," said Caderousse; "One would say you were already in possession of your property." 
"No, unfortunately; but when I do obtain it"-- 
"Well?" 
"I shall remember old friends, I can tell you that." 
"Yes, since you have such a good memory." 
"What do you want? It looks as if you were trying to fleece me?" 
"I? What an idea! I, who am going to give you another piece of good advice." 
"What is it?" 
"To leave behind you the diamond you have on your finger. We shall both get into trouble. You will ruin both yourself and me by your folly." 
"How so?" said Andrea. 
"How? You put on a livery, you disguise yourself as a servant, and yet keep a diamond on your finger worth four or five thousand francs." 
"You guess well." 
"I know something of diamonds; I have had some." 
"You do well to boast of it," said Andrea, who, without becoming angry, as Caderousse feared, at this new extortion, quietly resigned the ring. Caderousse looked so closely at it that Andrea well knew that he was examining to see if all the edges were perfect. 
"It is a false diamond," said Caderousse. 
"You are joking now," replied Andrea. 
"Do not be angry, we can try it." Caderousse went to the window, touched the glass with it, and found it would cut. 
"Confiteor!" said Caderousse, putting the diamond on his little finger; "I was mistaken; but those thieves of jewellers imitate so well that it is no longer worth while to rob a jeweller's shop--it is another branch of industry paralyzed." 
"Have you finished?" said Andrea,--"do you want anything more?--will you have my waistcoat or my hat? Make free, now you have begun." 
"No; you are, after all, a good companion; I will not detain you, and will try to cure myself of my ambition." 
"But take care the same thing does not happen to you in selling the diamond you feared with the gold." 
"I shall not sell it--do not fear." 
"Not at least till the day after to-morrow," thought the young man. 
"Happy rogue," said Caderousse; "you are going to find your servants, your horses, your carriage, and your betrothed!" 
"Yes," said Andrea. 
"Well, I hope you will make a handsome wedding-present the day you marry Mademoiselle Danglars." 
"I have already told you it is a fancy you have taken in your head." 
"What fortune has she?" 
"But I tell you"-- 
"A million?" Andrea shrugged his shoulders. 
"Let it be a million," said Caderousse; "you can never have so much as I wish you." 
"Thank you," said the young man. 
"Oh, I wish it you with all my heart!" added Caderousse with his hoarse laugh. "Stop, let me show you the way." 
"It is not worth while." 
"Yes, it is." 
"Why?" 
"Because there is a little secret, a precaution I thought it desirable to take, one of Huret & Fitchet's locks, revised and improved by Gaspard Caderousse; I will manufacture you a similar one when you are a capitalist." 
"Thank you," said Andrea; "I will let you know a week beforehand." They parted. Caderousse remained on the landing until he had not only seen Andrea go down the three stories, but also cross the court. Then he returned hastily, shut his door carefully, and began to study, like a clever architect, the plan Andrea had left him. 
"Dear Benedetto," said he, "I think he will not be sorry to inherit his fortune, and he who hastens the day when he can touch his five hundred thousand will not be his worst friend."  
就在马尔塞夫伯爵受了腾格拉尔的冷遇、含羞带怒地离开银行家的府邸的那天晚上，安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生带着鬈曲的头发、式样美观的胡须以及松紧合宜的白手套，走进了安顿大马路腾格拉尔爵府的前庭。他在客厅里坐了还不到十分钟，就把腾格拉尔拉到一边，拖他到了一个凸出的窗口前面。他先说了一篇机巧的序言，说自从他那高贵的父亲离开以后，他是多么的想念和挂虑他；然后他就向那位银行家道谢，说他一家人待他真是太好了，简直把他当作自己的侄子一样看待；然后，他承认地的热情已找到了一个归宿，而那个归宿点便是腾格拉尔小姐。腾格拉尔极其注意地倾听着，最近这几天来，他一直期待着这一番表白，现在终于听到了，他的眼睛里闪出兴奋的光芒，和听马尔塞夫讲话时那种低头沉思的神气成了鲜明的对比。但他还不愿意立刻就答应那个青年的要求，表面上略微犹像了一下。“您现在考虑结婚不是太年轻一点儿了吗，安德烈先生。” 
“不，的确不，阁下，”卡瓦尔康蒂先生答道，“在意大利，贵族一般都很早就结婚。这是一种很合理的风俗。人生是这样易于变幻，当快乐来到我们前面的时候，我们应该及时地抓住它。” 
“嗯，阁下，”腾格拉尔说，“您的建议使我很感光荣，假如我太太和女儿也同意的话，那些初步的手续由谁来办理呢？我想，这样重要的一次商谈，应该由双方的父亲出面才好。” 
“阁下，家父是一个极有先见之明和非常审慎的人。他正想到我或许愿意在法国成家立业，所以在他离开的时候，把那些证明我身分的文件都留交给了我，并且还留下一封信，说假如我的选择符合他的心愿，就答应从我结婚的那天起，可以让我每年有十五万里弗的收入。这笔款子，我估计，约占家父每年收入的四分之一。” 
“我，”腾格拉尔说，“我早已准备给我的女儿五十万法郎作嫁妆，而且，她还是我的独生女儿。” 
“嗯，”安德烈说，“您看，这样就已经很好了。假如腾格拉尔男爵夫人和欧热妮小姐不拒绝我的求婚的话。我们每年就可以有十七万五千里弗任意支配。要是我能劝动侯爵把我的本金给我，这当然不见得能实现，但还是可能的，我们就把这两三百万交给您，而这两三百万一旦到了一个老手的手里，至少可以赚到一个一分利。” 
“我给别人的利息从不超过四厘，普通的只有三厘半，但对我的女婿，我可以给五厘，我们大家可以分享赢利。” 
“好极了，岳父大人，”卡瓦尔康蒂说，这句话暴露了他那下贱的本性，他虽极力想巧用贵族的派头掩饰那种本性，但有时却仍不免要流露出来。他立刻校正自己说道，“原谅我，阁下。您看，单是希望就已使我快要发疯了，假如希望真的实现了，我还不知要成什么样了呢！” 
“但是，”腾格拉尔说，他并没发觉这番最初毫不涉及金钱的谈话，变成了一场商业谈判，“在你的财产当中，有一部分令尊无疑是不能拒绝您的罗？” 
“哪一笔？”青年问。 
“就是您从令堂那儿继承来的那一笔。” 
“是的，的确。我从家母奥丽伐·高塞奈黎那儿继承了一笔财产。 
“那笔财产有多少？” 
“说老实话，阁下，”安德烈说，“我向您保证，我从没去想过，但据我猜测，那笔财产至少肯定有两百万。” 
腾格拉尔喜不自胜，犹如守财奴找到了一笔失踪的财宝，或沉船的海员在精疲力尽的时候忽然感觉脚踏到实地了一样。 
“嗯，阁下，”安德烈说，毕恭毕敬地向银行家鞠了一躬，“我可以希望吗？” 
“安德烈先生，”腾格拉尔说，“您不但可以希望，而且或许可以认为这件事情已是确定无疑的了，假如您这方面没什么阻碍的话。只是，”他若有所思地又加上了一句话，“您的保护人基督山先生这次怎么不来代您提亲呢？” 
安德烈略微涨红了脸。“我刚从伯爵那儿来，阁下，”他说，“他无疑是个很风趣的人，但他有些念头却古怪得难以想象。他对我估计得很高，他甚至告诉我说，他绝对相信家父不会仅仅让我收用利息，而会把那笔本金也给我的。他答应为我设法办到这一点。但他又说，他从不代人提亲，将来也决不做这种事。但是，我必须为他说句公道话，他说道，假如他生平对自己的这种态度曾表示过遗憾的话，那么就是这一次了，因为他认为这桩婚姻将来一定会很美满的。而且，他还告诉我，尽管他不公开出面，但假如您有什么问题去问他，他一定会答复您的。” 
“啊！好极了！” 
“现在，”安德烈带着他那种最可爱的微笑说道，“我跟岳父谈过了，我必须还得跟银行家来谈一谈。” 
“您有什么事要跟他谈？”腾格拉尔也微笑着说道。 
“就是后天我就可以从您这儿提取四千法郎了。伯爵怕我的经常收入不够下个月的开支，给了我一张两万法郎的支票。您看，这上面有他的签字，您可以接受吗？” 
“这样的支票，”腾格拉尔说，“就是一百万票面的我也很乐于接受，”他把那张支票塞进了口袋里。“您定个时间吧，明天什么时候要，我的出纳将带着一张两万四千法郎的支票来拜访您。” 
“那么，十点钟吧，假如您方便的话。我希望能早一点，因为明天我要到乡下去。” 
“很好，十点钟。您还住在太子旅馆吗？” 
“是的。” 
那位银行家的确很守时，第二天早晨，正当那个年轻人要出门的时候，那两万四千法郎就交到了他的手里，于是他就出门去了，留下了两百法郎给卡德鲁斯。他这次出门主要是为躲避这个危险的敌人的，所以尽可能地在外逗留到很晚才回来。但他刚从马车里跨出来，门房就手里拿着一包东西来见他了。“先生，”他说，“那个人已经来过了。” 
“什么人？”安德烈态度很随便地说，表面上似乎已经把他时刻害怕着的那个人给忘了。 
“就是大人给了他那一小笔养老金的那个人。” 
“哦！”安德烈说，“我父亲的老乡。嗯，你把我留给他的那两百法郎交给他了吧？” 
“是的，大人。”安德烈曾表示过希望人家这样称呼他，“但是，”门房继续说道，“他不肯拿。” 
安德烈的脸色顿时变白了；由于天黑，所以别人没注意到那一点。“什么！他不肯拿？”他用一种略带焦急的口吻问道。 
“不，他想见见大人，我告诉他说您出门去了。他坚持说要见您，但最后似乎相信了我的话，就交了这封信给我，这封信是他随身带来的，本来已经封好口的了。” 
“给我，”安德烈说。于是他借着车灯的光拆开了那封信：“你知道我住的地方。明天早晨九点钟，我等你来。” 
安德烈仔细地检查了一下那封信，看是否曾被人拆开过，是否被人偷看过里面的内容：但这封信的封口非常缜密，假如有人想偷看，则必须撕破封口，可封口却原封未动。“好极了，”他说，“可怜！他真是一个老好人。”他丢下门房，让他去细细地咀嚼这几句话，后者被弄得莫名其妙的，不知道这主仆二人究竟哪一个更值得钦佩。“赶快卸马，上来见我，”安德烈对他的马夫说。这个青年几步跳进了他的房间，立刻烧掉了卡德鲁斯的信。刚一完事，仆人就进来了。“你的身材和我差不多，庇利。”他说。 
“我很荣幸，大人。” 
“你昨天做了一套新制服？” 
“是的，大人。” 
“我今晚上要跟一位漂亮的小姐约会，我不想让人知道。把你那套制服借给我用一下，你的证件也拿来，假如需要的话，我就可以在一家客栈里过夜了。”庇利遵命照办。五分钟之后，安德烈就全身化装妥当，离开了旅馆，叫了一辆双轮马车，吩咐车夫驶往洛基旅馆。第二天早晨，他象离开太子旅馆那样毫不引人注意地离开了那家小客栈，穿过圣·安多尼路，顺着林荫大道走到密尼蒙旦街，在左边第三座房子门口停了下来，当时门房正巧不在，他四下里看了一下，想找个人问一下。 
“你找谁呀，我的好小伙子？”对面卖苹果的女人问。 
“找派里登先生，我的胖大妈。”安德烈回答。 
“是那个退休的面包师吗？”卖苹果的女人问。 
“一点不错。” 
“他住在院子尽头左边的四层楼上。” 
安德烈顺着她的指示去找。在四楼的房间门外，他找到了一只兔子脚掌，铃声立刻急促地响起来，由此显然可见他拉这只脚掌的时候脾气坏极了。一会儿之后，卡德鲁斯的脸在门上的小洞里出现了。“啊，你很守时。”他一边说，一边拔开了门闩。 
“当然！”安德烈说，他走了进去，使劲把帽子一摔，但没摔到椅子上，那顶硬边的制服帽在地板上骨碌碌地转了一个圈。 
“喂，喂，我的小家伙，别生气呀。瞧，我很挂念你呢。看看我们这顿丰盛的早餐吧。都是你爱吃的东西。” 
安德烈的确嗅到了饭菜的香味，他对于这种气味倒并非不欢迎，因为他实在饿极了，他所闻到的，是下等乡下厨房里所特有的那种马肉和大蒜的混合味；此外，还有红烧鱼的香味，而最强烈的，则是那刺鼻的茴香味。这些气味是从两只炉子上的两只盖着的菜碟和一只放在铁炉上的一只锅里散发出来的。在隔壁房间里，安德烈看到有一张相当干净的桌子，上面摆着两副餐具，两瓶酒，一瓶的封口是绿色的，一瓶的封口是黄色的，一只玻璃杯里装着很多白兰地，一只瓦盆里巧妙地堆叠着几种水果，水果底下垫着一叶椰菜。 
“你觉得如何，我的小家伙？”卡德鲁斯说。“呀，味道很好，你知道我是一个烧菜的好手。还记得你以前常常舔手指头的那回事吗？凡是我能烧的菜，你都尝过，我想你对它们大概很喜欢的吧。”卡德鲁斯一边说，一边继续剥洋葱。 
“但是，”安德烈发火了，“哼！假如你这次打扰我的目的只是要我来和你吃一顿早餐，那真是活见鬼了！” 
“我的孩子，”卡德鲁斯咬文嚼字地说，“我们可以边吃边谈嘛。喏，又忘恩负义啦！你不高兴见见一位老朋友吗？我可是高兴得直流眼泪啦。” 
他的确正在流眼泪，但究竟那是高兴的结果还是洋葱对邦杜加客栈老店主的泪腺起了作用，很难说。 
“闭上你的嘴吧，伪君子！”安德烈说，“你爱我？” 
“是的，我真的爱你，说假话就天诛地灭！我知道这是我的弱点，”卡德鲁斯说，“但是我自己无法克制。” 
“可是那却并没有阻止你把我叫来，跟我玩鬼把戏。” 
“喏！”卡德鲁斯说，把他那把很长的小刀在围裙上抹了几下，“要不是我喜欢你，你以为我会忍受你赐给我的这种可怜的生活吗？你且想想看。你身上穿的是你仆人的衣服。由此可知你雇着一个仆人。而我则没有仆人，我不得不自己烧饭。你瞧不起我烧的菜，因为你可以在巴黎酒家或太子旅馆的餐厅里吃饭。嗯，我也可以雇个仆人。我也可以有一辆轻便马车，我也可以爱到哪儿吃饭就在哪儿去吃饭，但我为什么不这样呢？因为我不愿意使我的小贝尼代托不高兴。来！我这番话你总得承认是对的吧，嗯！”说这篇话的时候，他目光中的含义是决不难懂的。 
“嗯！”安德烈说，“就算承认你是爱我的，但你为什么要我来和你吃早餐呢？” 
“就是为了能见见你呀，我的小家伙。” 
“我们一切都商量好了的嘛，又何必再见我呢？” 
“咦！好朋友，”卡德鲁斯说，“立遗嘱难道竟没有附言吗？你主要是来吃早餐的，不是吗？嗯，请坐吧，我们先来吃这些鲱鱼，还有新鲜的奶油，你看，我把它放在葡萄叶子上，就是为了要讨你喜欢，你这混蛋。啊，是的！你在观察我的房间，看我这四张蹩脚椅子，看我这三个法郎一张的画片。但你还想能看到什么好东西呢？这里可不是太子旅馆。” 
“喏！你愈来愈不知满足了，你又不快乐啦。你本来只想扮演一个退休的面包师的。” 
卡德鲁斯叹了一口气。 
“嗯！你还有什么话要说？你已经看到你的梦想实现啦。” 
“我只能说那仍只是一个梦想。我可怜的贝尼代托，一个退休的面包师是很有钱的，他可以拿年金。” 
“嗯，你也可以拿年金呀。” 
“我有吗？” 
“是的，因为我已经把你那两百法郎带来了。” 
卡德鲁斯耸了耸他的肩。“象这样勉强向人讨钱用，实在太丢脸了，”他说，“一笔不稳定的收入不久或许就会断绝的。你看，我不得不省吃俭用，以防你的倒运。唉，我的朋友，命运是变化无常的，这是那个——那个军队里的教士说的话。我知道你的运气很好，你这混蛋，你就要娶腾格拉尔的女儿了。” 
“什么！腾格拉尔！” 
“是的，当然是的！难道要我一定得说腾格拉尔男爵吗？老实告诉你，贝尼代托伯爵，他是我的老朋友。假如他的记忆力不那么糟的话，他应该来请我去喝你的喜酒。因为他曾参加了我的婚礼。是的，是的，参加了我的！当然！他以前可不象现在这样骄傲，他那时只是那好心肠的莫雷尔先生手下的一个小职员。我跟他和马尔塞夫伯爵曾一起吃过好多次饭。所以你看，我也有一些体面的关系，要是我把那种关系略加发展，我们或许还能在同一个客厅里见面哪。” 
“哼，您的妒忌心现在简直使你异想天开了，卡德鲁斯。” 
“异想天开也很不错呀，我的贝尼代托，我知道自己在说什么话。或许有一天我会穿上象样的衣服，走到他们家的大门口，说：‘请开门！’但现在，我们且坐下来吃东西吧。” 
卡德鲁斯自作榜样，胃口极好地吃起那顿早餐来，每端一样菜到他的客人面前，就称赞一番。后者似乎屈服了；他拔开了酒瓶塞子，割了一大块鱼以及大蒜和肥肉。“啊，伙伴！” 
卡德鲁斯说，“你同你的老东家慢慢地和好起来了吧！” 
“是的，的确。”安德烈回答，他那年轻强健的胃口暂时压倒了其他的一切。 
“那么你很喜欢这些菜了，乖儿子？” 
“很喜欢，我奇怪一个人能吃到这么好的东西，怎么还要抱怨说生活太苦。” 
“你难道看不出来吗？”卡德鲁斯说，“我虽然快乐，但脑子里却老放不下一个念头。” 
“什么念头？” 
“就是：我是靠朋友过活的——我，我一向都是自己养活自己的。” 
“你不必为这点不安，我还养得起一个人。” 
“不，真的，信不信由你，每到一个月的月底，我心里就懊丧极了。” 
“善良的卡德鲁斯！” 
“以至昨天我不肯接受那两百法郎。” 
“是的，你想跟我说说话。但告诉我，你真的很悔恨吗？” 
“真的很悔恨，而且，我忽然想起了一个念头。” 
安德烈不禁打了个寒颤；卡德鲁斯每起一个念头，他总是要打寒颤的。 
“这真痛苦。你看可不是吗？老是要等到每个月的月底。” 
“噢！”安德烈决定严密注意他的同伴，就以哲学家的口吻说，“人生不就是在等待中过去的吗？举个例子来说，我的情形难道比你好吗？嗯，我很耐心地等待着，可不是吗？” 
“是的，因为你所等待的不只是区区两百法郎，而是五六千，或许一万，一万二千，因为你是个狡猾的家伙。过去，你老是藏着一个小钱袋，想瞒过你这可怜的朋友卡德鲁斯。幸亏这个朋友有一个很灵敏的鼻子。” 
“你又来噜苏了，谈来谈去总是谈过去的事情！你拿那种事来打扰我有什么用呢？” 
“啊！你才二十一岁，可以忘记过去。可我我已经是五十岁的人了，我不得不想念那些往事。但我们且回到正经事上来吧。” 
“好的。” 
“我想说，假如我处于你的位置——” 
“怎么样？” 
“我就得设法实现——” 
“你想实现什么？” 
“我会以买农场为借口，要求预支六个月的钱，有了六个月的收入，我就可以溜之大吉了。” 
“嗯，嗯，”安德烈说，“那个念头倒不坏。” 
“我的好朋友，”卡德鲁斯说，“吃了我的面包，就接受了我的忠告吧。不论从肉体或精神上讲，你都决不会吃亏的。” 
“但是，”安德烈说，“你为什么不按你给我的忠告去做呢？你为什么不预支六个月或甚至一年的收入，然后隐退到布鲁塞尔去呢？你不必装退休的面包师，你可以装成一个破产者，那也很不错呀。” 
“只有一千二百法郎，你叫我怎么退休呢？” 
“啊，卡德鲁斯，”安德烈说，“你多贪心呀！一个月以前，你还在饥饿中挣扎。” 
“胃口是愈吃愈大的呀，”卡德鲁斯说，他狞笑了一下，象猴子大笑或老虎咆哮时那样露出了他的牙齿。“而且，”他用那些又大又白的牙齿咬下了一大块面包，又说道，“我想出了一个计划。”安德烈对卡德鲁斯的计划比好的念头更害怕，念头只是胚胎，计划却是现实了。 
“让我来看看你的计划吧，我敢说那一定很不错。” 
“为什么不呢？我们离开那个——那个地方的计划是谁想出来的，嗯？不是我吗？我相信那个计划就很不错。因为我们现在已经到了这儿了。” 
“我并没有说你从来不曾想出过一个好计划，”安德烈回答，“但且让我们来看看你现在的这个计划吧。” 
“嗯，”卡德鲁斯说，“你能不花一个子儿就使我得到一万五千法郎吗？不，一万五千还不够，要是少了三万法郎，我就无法再做一个规规矩矩的人。” 
“不，”安德烈不感兴趣地答道，“不，我不能。” 
“我想你大概还没弄懂我的意思，”卡德鲁斯平心静气地回答说，“我是说你自己不必掏一个子儿。” 
“你要我去偷去抢，把我的好运——我们两个人的好运——就此断送掉，让我们两个人再被拖进那个地方去吗？” 
“我倒一点儿不在乎，”卡德鲁斯说，“即使再被捉去也无所谓，我是一个孤零零的可怜虫，有时候很怀念我那些老同伴。我可不象你，你是一个没心没肺的人，只指望永远不再见到他们。” 
安德烈这次不仅打了一个寒颤，而且脸色都变苍白了。 
“得了，卡德鲁斯，别说废话了！”他说。 
“你不要急，我的小贝尼代托，我并不要你帮我去弄那五万法郎，而只要你给我说明一些情形，我自能设法。” 
“那么，我来看看吧！我来给你考虑考虑！”安德烈说。 
“目前，你可以把我的月薪提高到五百法郎吧，我的小家伙？我有个想法，很想雇一个管家。” 
“好吧，就给你五百法郎，”安德烈说，“但在我这方面，这已经是非常为难的了，我可怜的卡德鲁斯。你利用——” 
“嘿！”卡德鲁斯说，“你的身边就有取之不尽、用之不竭的宝库哪。” 
或许有人会说安德烈正期待他的同伴说这句话，因为他的眼睛顿时亮了起来，但那种光立刻就消失了。 
“不错，”他答道，“我的保护人待我非常亲切。” 
“可爱的保护人！”卡德鲁斯说。“他每月给你多少钱？” 
“五千法郎。” 
“你给我五百，他给你五千！真是的，只有私生子才能交到这样的好运。五千法郎一个月！那么多钱你可怎么用呢？” 
“噢，那很快就会花光的，所以我象你一样，也需要一笔本金。” 
“一笔本金！是的，我懂，人人都望有一笔本金呀。” 
“嗯！我可以弄到一笔。” 
“谁给你呢？是你那位王爷吗？” 
“是的，我那位王爷。” 
“但你必须等一下罗？”卡德鲁斯问。 
“等到他死的时候。” 
“等到你那位王爷死的时候？” 
“是的。” 
“为什么呢？” 
“因为他在遗嘱里写明遗赠给我一笔钱。” 
“真的？” 
“以人格担保。” 
“给你多少？” 
“五十万。” 
“就这么个数目！够少的啦！” 
“但事实如此。” 
“不，不可能的！” 
“你是我的朋友吗，卡德鲁斯？” 
“当然是的，是生死之交。” 
“那么，我来告诉你一个秘密。” 
“什么秘密？” 
“要记住——” 
“啊，当然罗！绝不泄漏。” 
“嗯！我想——” 
安德烈住了嘴，四下里望了一下。 
“你在想什么？别怕，真的！只有我们两个人。” 
“我想我已经发现了我的父亲。” 
“你的真父亲？” 
“是的。” 
“不是老卡瓦尔康蒂？” 
“不，因为他已经走了，而是你所说的真的。” 
“而那个父亲就是——” 
“嗯，卡德鲁斯，就是基督山。” 
“什么！” 
“是的，你也明白，一切都很明白。看来他不能公开承认我。所以他通过卡瓦尔康蒂先生来达到那个目的，他为这件事给了他五万法郎。” 
“五万法郎做你的父亲！只要一半我就干了，有两万，有一万五千，我也肯干的。你为什么不想见我呢，你这个忘恩负义的家伙？” 
“这件事我事先怎么知道？我们还在那个地方的时候就一切都安排好了。” 
“啊，这倒也是！而你说，在他的遗嘱里——” 
“留给了我五十万里弗。” 
“你能确定吗？” 
“他给我看过的。事情还不仅止于此，遗嘱里还有一笔附言。” 
“可能的。” 
“在那笔附录里，他承认了我。” 
“噢，善良的父亲！勇敢的父亲！万分忠实的父亲呀！”卡德鲁斯一边说，一边把一只菜碟抛到空中，又用双手将它接住。 
“现在你自己说吧，我有没有瞒你什么事？” 
“没有，依我来看，你对我的信任也为你增光不少，你那位富甲王侯的父亲是很有钱、非常有钱的罗？” 
“是的，那倒是事实，他自己也不知道他的财产究竟有多少。” 
“竟有这种事？” 
“我看那是够明显的了。我常常呆在他的家里。有一天，银行里的一个职员用一只和你的菜碟差不多大小的文书夹给他带来了五万法郎。昨天，我银行里的人又给他带来了十六法郎的金洋。” 
卡德鲁斯吃惊极了。在他听来，这个青年人的话简直象金属那样响亮；他好象已听到了金路易玎玲当啷的声音。“你能走进那座房子？”他直率地喊道。 
“只要我高兴，随时都能进去。” 
卡德鲁斯想了一会儿。他脑了里正在转一个重要的念头，这是很容易看得出来的。然后他突然大声说道：“我多想去看看呀！那一定很美吧！” 
“是的，的确，美极了。”安德烈说。 
“他不是住在香榭丽舍大道吗？” 
“是的，门牌三十号。” 
“啊！“卡德鲁斯说，“三十号。” 
“是的，一座很漂亮的孤立的房子，正面有前庭，后面有花园，你一定认得的。” 
“可能的，但我所关心的并不是它的外表，而是它的内部。里面的家具一定美丽极了！” 
“你见过土伊勒里宫没有？” 
“没有。” 
“嗯，它胜过了那座王宫。” 
“安德烈，不知那位好心肠的基督山先生要什么时候才能扔下一个钱袋来？” 
“噢！不必等他扔下一个钱袋来，”安德烈说，“那座房子里的钱就象果园里的果子一样多。” 
“你应该找个时候带我到那儿去一次。” 
“我怎么能这样呢？以什么借口呢？” 
“你说得不错，但你已经使我流口水。当然罗，我一定要去看看，我可以想出一个办法的。” 
“别说废话了，卡德鲁斯！” 
“我可以装成一个擦地板工人，找上门去。” 
“所有的房间都是铺地毯的。” 
“嗯，那么，我只能在想象中看看那一切来聊以自慰了。” 
“那再好不过了，相信我吧。” 
“它究竟是个什么样？至少也得给我一个印象呀。” 
“我怎么形容呢？” 
“那是再容易不过的事了。那房子大不大？” 
“中等。” 
“位置如何？” 
“真的，我得要支笔、墨水和纸来画幅图了。” 
“这儿都有，”卡德鲁斯连忙说。他从一只旧写字台里拿出了一张白纸、笔和墨水。“喏，”他说，“都给我画在这张纸上吧，我的孩子。” 
安德烈带着一个难以觉察的微笑拿起笔，开始画起来。 
“那座房子，我已经说过，前后都有庭园，是这个样子的，你懂了吗？”安德烈把花园、房屋和前庭都画了出来。 
“墙头很高吗？” 
“最多不过八到十呎。” 
“真谨慎呀。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“前庭里有子树盆景、草地和花丛。” 
“没有铁丝网吗？” 
“没有。” 
“马厩呢？” 
“在大门的两侧，就在这个地方。”安德烈继续画他的草图。 
“我们来看看楼下的情形吧。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“楼下那一层是餐厅、两间客厅、弹子房，大厅里有一座楼梯，后面有一座小楼梯。” 
“窗子呢？” 
“窗户也华丽得很，很漂亮，很大，我相信象你这样身材的人，从每个窗眼里钻进去是不成问题的。” 
“有了这么大的窗户，他们干吗还要装楼梯呢？” 
“阔人家里是什么都有的。” 
“百叶窗呢？” 
“有的，但却从来不用。基督山伯爵是一个很特别的人，他甚至爱在夜里看天空。” 
“仆人们住在什么地方呢？” 
“噢，他们自己有一座房子。右边这儿有一间小小的车房，里面有梯子。嗯！那间车房楼上就是仆人的房间，里面有拉铃，可以和正屋里的房间通消息。” 
“啊，见鬼！你说有拉铃？” 
“你这话是什么意思？” 
“噢，没什么。我只是说，装那些拉铃要花很大一笔钱，而它们的用途我倒也很想知道。” 
“以前晚上有一只狗在园子里巡逻，但它已被带到欧特伊别墅去了。就是你去过的那个地方，你知道的。” 
“是的。” 
“我昨天还对他说：‘你太大意了，伯爵阁下，因为当您带着您的仆人到欧特伊去的时候，这座房子就空着的。’‘嗯，’他说，‘那又怎么样？’‘那样，您总有一天就会被人偷去东西的。’” 
“他怎么回答？” 
“他说：‘即使有人来偷我，我又何必在意呢？’” 
“安德烈，他的写字台是有机关的。” 
“你这话是什么意思？” 
“是的，那机关能捉贼和发警报。我听人说，上次的博览会上就有那东西。” 
“他只有一个桃花心木的写字台，钥匙老是插在抽屉上。” 
“他没有失窃过吗？” 
“没有，他的仆人都对他很忠心。” 
“那写字台里应该有点钱的吧？” 
“或许有。谁都不知道那里面是些什么东西。” 
“那写字台在什么地方？” 
“在二楼。” 
“把二楼也给我画个图看看，就象你画楼下的那张一样，我的孩子。” 
“那非常简单。”安德烈拿起笔来。“二楼上，你看，这是候见室和客厅，客厅的右面，一间藏书室和一间书房，左面，一间卧室和一间更衣室。那只值得注意的写字台就在更衣室里。” 
“更衣室里有窗子吗？” 
“有两个窗口，一个在这儿，一个在那儿。”安德烈在那个房间里画上了两个窗口；在他的草图上，更衣室是屋角上的一个小方块，旁边是一个长方形，那是卧室。 
卡德鲁斯露出了一副沉思的样子。“他常常到欧特伊去吗？”他问道。 
“每星期去两三次。举例来说，明天他就要到那儿去过一天一夜。” 
“你能肯定吗？” 
“他已请我到那儿去吃饭。” 
“这种生活倒很不错，”卡德鲁斯说，“城里有一座房子，乡下有一座房子。” 
“这就是有钱的好处。” 
“你去那儿吃饭吗？” 
“大概去的。” 
“你到那儿去吃饭，你住在那儿吗？” 
“只要我高兴，我在那儿就等于在自己家里一样。” 
卡德鲁斯望着那个年轻人，象是要从他的心底里探出真情
Chapter 82 The Burglary
 THE DAY following that on which the conversation we have related took place, the Count of Monte Cristo set out for Auteuil, accompanied by Ali and several attendants, and also taking with him some horses whose qualities he was desirous of ascertaining. He was induced to undertake this journey, of which the day before he had not even thought and which had not occurred to Andrea either, by the arrival of Bertuccio from Normandy with intelligence respecting the house and sloop. The house was ready, and the sloop which had arrived a week before lay at anchor in a small creek with her crew of six men, who had observed all the requisite formalities and were ready again to put to sea. 
The count praised Bertuccio's zeal, and ordered him to prepare for a speedy departure, as his stay in France would not be prolonged more than a mouth. "Now," said he, "I may require to go in one night from Paris to Tréport; let eight fresh horses be in readiness on the road, which will enable me to go fifty leagues in ten hours." 
"Your highness had already expressed that wish," said Bertuccio, "and the horses are ready. I have bought them, and stationed them myself at the most desirable posts, that is, in villages, where no one generally stops." 
"That's well," said Monte Cristo; "I remain here a day or two--arrange accordingly." As Bertuccio was leaving the room to give the requisite orders, Baptistin opened the door: he held a letter on a silver waiter. 
"What are you doing here?" asked the count, seeing him covered with dust; "I did not send for you, I think?" 
Baptistin, without answering, approached the count, and presented the letter. "Important and urgent," said he. The count opened the letter, and read:-- 
"M. de Monte Cristo is apprised that this night a man will enter his house in the Champs-Elysées with the intention of carrying off some papers supposed to be in the secretary in the dressing-room. The count's well-known courage will render unnecessary the aid of the police, whose interference might seriously affect him who sends this advice. The count, by any opening from the bedroom, or by concealing himself in the dressing-room, would be able to defend his property himself. Many attendents or apparent precautions would prevent the villain from the attempt, and M. de Monte Cristo would lose the opportunity of discovering an enemy whom chance has revealed to him who now sends this warning to the count,--a warning he might not be able to send another time, if this first attempt should fail and another be made." 
The count's first idea was that this was an artifice--a gross deception, to draw his attention from a minor danger in order to expose him to a greater. He was on the point of sending the letter to the commissary of police, notwithstanding the advice of his anonymous friend, or perhaps because of that advice, when suddenly the idea occurred to him that it might be some personal enemy, whom he alone should recognize and over whom, if such were the case, he alone would gain any advantage, as Fiesco* had done over the Moor who would have killed him. We know the Count's vigorous and daring mind, denying anything to be impossible, with that energy which marks the great man. From his past life, from his resolution to shrink from nothing, the count had acquired an inconceivable relish for the contests in which he had engaged, sometimes against nature, that is to say, against God, and sometimes against the world, that is, against the devil. 
* The Genoese conspirator. 
"They do not want my papers," said Monte Cristo, "they want to kill me; they are no robbers, but assassins. I will not allow the prefect of police to interfere with my private affairs. I am rich enough, forsooth, to distribute his authority on this occasion." The count recalled Baptistin, who had left the room after delivering the letter. "Return to Paris," said he; "assemble the servants who remain there. I want all my household at Auteuil." 
"But will no one remain in the house, my lord?" asked Baptistin. 
"Yes, the porter." 
"My lord will remember that the lodge is at a distance from the house." 
"Well?" 
"The house might be stripped without his hearing the least noise." 
"By whom?" 
"By thieves." 
"You are a fool, M. Baptistin. Thieves might strip the house--it would annoy me less than to be disobeyed." Baptistin bowed. 
"You understand me?" said the count. "Bring your comrades here, one and all; but let everything remain as usual, only close the shutters of the ground floor." 
"And those of the second floor?" 
"You know they are never closed. Go!" 
The count signified his intention of dining alone, and that no one but Ali should attend him. Having dined with his usual tranquillity and moderation, the count, making a signal to Ali to follow him, went out by the side-gate and on reaching the Bois de Boulogne turned, apparently without design towards Paris and at twilight; found himself opposite his house in the Champs-Elysées. All was dark; one solitary, feeble light was burning in the porter's lodge, about forty paces distant from the house, as Baptistin had said. Monte Cristo leaned against a tree, and with that scrutinizing glance which was so rarely deceived, looked up and down the avenue, examined the passers-by, and carefully looked down the neighboring streets, to see that no one was concealed. Ten minutes passed thus, and he was convinced that no one was watching him. He hastened to the side-door with Ali, entered hurriedly, and by the servants' staircase, of which he had the key, gained his bedroom without opening or disarranging a single curtain, without even the porter having the slightest suspicion that the house, which he supposed empty, contained its chief occupant. 
Arrived in his bedroom, the count motioned to Ali to stop; then he passed into the dressing-room, which he examined. Everything appeared as usual--the precious secretary in its place, and the key in the secretary. He double locked it, took the key, returned to the bedroom door, removed the double staple of the bolt, and went in. Meanwhile Ali had procured the arms the count required--namely, a short carbine and a pair of double-barrelled pistols, with which as sure an aim might be taken as with a single-barrelled one. Thus armed, the count held the lives of five men in his hands. It was about half-past nine. The count and Ali ate in haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine; then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, which enabled him to see into the adjoining room. He had within his reach his pistols and carbine, and Ali, standing near him, held one of the small Arabian hatchets, whose form has not varied since the Crusades. Through one of the windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the dressing-room, the count could see into the street. 
Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark; still Ali, thanks to his wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness the slightest movement of the trees. The little light in the lodge had long been extinct. It might be expected that the attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be made from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a window; in Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his life, not his money. It would be his bedroom they would attack, and they must reach it by the back staircase, or by the window in the dressing-room. The clock of the Invalides struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on its moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes. 
As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a slight noise in the dressing-room; this first sound, or rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a third; at the fourth, the count knew what to expect. A firm and well-practised hand was engaged in cutting the four sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt his heart beat more rapidly. Inured as men may be to danger, forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between the project and the execution. However, Monte Cristo only made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his master. Monte Cristo was eager to ascertain the strength and number of his enemies. 
The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the opening by which the count could see into the dressing-room. He fixed his eyes on that window--he distinguished a shadow in the darkness; then one of the panes became quite opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, then the square cracked without falling. Through the opening an arm was passed to find the fastening, then a second; the window turned on its hinges, and a man entered. He was alone. 
"That's a daring rascal," whispered the count. 
At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder. He turned; Ali pointed to the window of the room in which they were, facing the street. "I see!" said he, "there are two of them; one does the work while the other stands guard." He made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the man in the street, and turned to the one in the dressing-room. 
The glass-cutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his arms stretched out before him. At last he appeared to have made himself familiar with his surroundings. There were two doors; he bolted them both. 
When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected that he was coming in, and raised one of his pistols; but he simply heard the sound of the bolts sliding in their copper rings. It was only a precaution. The nocturnal visitor, ignorant of the fact that the count had removed the staples, might now think himself at home, and pursue his purpose with full security. Alone and free to act as he wished, the man then drew from his pocket something which the count could not discern, placed it on a stand, then went straight to the secretary, felt the lock, and contrary to his expectation found that the key was missing. But the glass-cutter was a prudent man who had provided for all emergencies. The count soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as the locksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which thieves call nightingales, doubtless from the music of their nightly song when they grind against the bolt. "Ah, ha," whispered Monte Cristo with a smile of disappointment, "he is only a thief." 
But the man in the dark could not find the right key. He reached the instrument he had placed on the stand, touched a spring, and immediately a pale light, just bright enough to render objects distinct, was reflected on his hands and countenance. "By heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, starting back, "it is"-- 
Ali raised his hatchet. "Don't stir," whispered Monte Cristo, "and put down your hatchet; we shall require no arms." Then he added some words in a low tone, for the exclamation which surprise had drawn from the count, faint as it had been, had startled the man who remained in the pose of the old knife-grinder. It was an order the count had just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and returned, bearing a black dress and a three-cornered hat. Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly taken off his great-coat, waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish by the glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant tunic of steel mail, of which the last in France, where daggers are no longer dreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI, who feared the dagger at his breast, and whose head was cleft with a hatchet. The tunic soon disappeared under a long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig; the three-cornered hat over this effectually transformed the count into an abbé. 
The man, hearing nothing more, stood erect, and while Monte Cristo was completing his disguise had advanced straight to the secretary, whose lock was beginning to crack under his nightingale. "Try again," whispered the count, who depended on the secret spring, which was unknown to the picklock, clever as he might be--"try again, you have a few minutes' work there." And he advanced to the window. The man whom he had seen seated on a fence had got down, and was still pacing the street; but, strange as it appeared, he cared not for those who might pass from the avenue of the Champs-Elysées or by the Faubourg St. Honoré; his attention was engrossed with what was passing at the count's, and his only aim appeared to be to discern every movement in the dressing-room. 
Monte Cristo suddenly struck his finger on his forehead and a smile passed over his lips; then drawing near to Ali, he whispered,-- 
"Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I call you." Ali bowed in token of strict obedience. Monte Cristo then drew a lighted taper from a closet, and when the thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the door, taking care that the light should shine directly on his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard no sound; but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly illuminated. He turned. 
"Ah, good-evening, my dear M. Caderousse," said Monte Cristo; "what are you doing here, at such an hour?" 
"The Abbé Busoni!" exclaimed Caderousse; and, not knowing how this strange apparition could have entered when he had bolted the doors, he let fall his bunch of keys, and remained motionless and stupefied. The count placed himself between Caderousse and the window, thus cutting off from the thief his only chance of retreat. "The Abbé Busoni!" repeated Caderousse, fixing his haggard gaze on the count. 
"Yes, undoubtedly, the Abbé Busoni himself," replied Monte Cristo. "And I am very glad you recognize me, dear M. Caderousse; it proves you have a good memory, for it must be about ten years since we last met." This calmness of Busoni, combined with his irony and boldness, staggered Caderousse. 
"The abbé, the abbé!" murmured he, clinching his fists, and his teeth chattering. 
"So you would rob the Count of Monte Cristo?" continued the false abbé. 
"Reverend sir," murmured Caderousse, seeking to regain the window, which the count pitilessly blocked--"reverend sir, I don't know--believe me--I take my oath"-- 
"A pane of glass out," continued the count, "a dark lantern, a bunch of false keys, a secretary half forced--it is tolerably evident"-- 
Caderousse was choking; he looked around for some corner to hide in, some way of escape. 
"Come, come," continued the count, "I see you are still the same,--an assassin." 
"Reverend sir, since you know everything, you know it was not I--it was La Carconte; that was proved at the trial, since I was only condemned to the galleys." 
"Is your time, then, expired, since I find you in a fair way to return there?" 
"No, reverend sir; I have been liberated by some one." 
"That some one has done society a great kindness." 
"Ah," said Caderousse, "I had promised"-- 
"And you are breaking your promise!" interrupted Monte Cristo. 
"Alas, yes!" said Caderousse very uneasily. 
"A bad relapse, that will lead you, if I mistake not, to the Place de Grève. So much the worse, so much the worse--diavolo, as they say in my country." 
"Reverend sir, I am impelled"-- 
"Every criminal says the same thing." 
"Poverty"-- 
"Pshaw!" said Busoni disdainfully; "poverty may make a man beg, steal a loaf of bread at a baker's door, but not cause him to open a secretary in a house supposed to be inhabited. And when the jeweller Johannes had just paid you 40,000 francs for the diamond I had given you, and you killed him to get the diamond and the money both, was that also poverty?" 
"Pardon, reverend sir," said Caderousse; "you have saved my life once, save me again!" 
"That is but poor encouragement." 
"Are you alone, reverend sir, or have you there soldiers ready to seize me?" 
"I am alone," said the abbé, "and I will again have pity on you, and will let you escape, at the risk of the fresh miseries my weakness may lead to, if you tell me the truth." 
"Ah, reverend sir," cried Caderousse, clasping his hands, and drawing nearer to Monte Cristo, "I may indeed say you are my deliverer!" 
"You mean to say you have been freed from confinement?" 
"Yes, that is true, reverend sir." 
"Who was your liberator?" 
"An Englishman." 
"What was his name?" 
"Lord Wilmore." 
"I know him; I shall know if you lie." 
"Ah, reverend sir, I tell you the simple truth." 
"Was this Englishman protecting you?" 
"No, not me, but a young Corsican, my companion." 
"What was this young Corsican's name?" 
"Benedetto." 
"Is that his Christian name?" 
"He had no other; he was a foundling." 
"Then this young man escaped with you?" 
"He did." 
"In what way?" 
"We were working at St. Mandrier, near Toulon. Do you know St. Mandrier?" 
"I do." 
"In the hour of rest, between noon and one o'clock"-- 
"Galley-slaves having a nap after dinner! We may well pity the poor fellows!" said the abbé. 
"Nay," said Caderousse, "one can't always work--one is not a dog." 
"So much the better for the dogs," said Monte Cristo. 
"While the rest slept, then, we went away a short distance; we severed our fetters with a file the Englishman had given us, and swam away." 
"And what is become of this Benedetto?" 
"I don't know." 
"You ought to know." 
"No, in truth; we parted at Hyères." And, to give more weight to his protestation, Caderousse advanced another step towards the abbé, who remained motionless in his place, as calm as ever, and pursuing his interrogation. "You lie," said the Abbé Busoni, with a tone of irresistible authority. 
"Reverend sir!" 
"You lie! This man is still your friend, and you, perhaps, make use of him as your accomplice." 
"Oh, reverend sir!" 
"Since you left Toulon what have you lived on? Answer me!" 
"On what I could get." 
"You lie," repeated the abbé a third time, with a still more imperative tone. Caderousse, terrified, looked at the count. "You have lived on the money he has given you." 
"True," said Caderousse; "Benedetto has become the son of a great lord." 
"How can he be the son of a great lord?" 
"A natural son." 
"And what is that great lord's name?" 
"The Count of Monte Cristo, the very same in whose house we are." 
"Benedetto the count's son?" replied Monte Cristo, astonished in his turn. 
"Well, I should think so, since the count has found him a false father--since the count gives him four thousand francs a month, and leaves him 500,000 francs in his will." 
"Ah, yes," said the factitious abbé, who began to understand; "and what name does the young man bear meanwhile?" "Andrea Cavalcanti." 
"Is it, then, that young man whom my friend the Count of Monte Cristo has received into his house, and who is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" 
"Exactly." 
"And you suffer that, you wretch--you, who know his life and his crime?" 
"Why should I stand in a comrade's way?" said Caderousse. 
"You are right; it is not you who should apprise M. Danglars, it is I." 
"Do not do so, reverend sir." 
"Why not?" 
"Because you would bring us to ruin." 
"And you think that to save such villains as you I will become an abettor of their plot, an accomplice in their crimes?" 
"Reverend sir," said Caderousse, drawing still nearer. 
"I will expose all." 
"To whom?" 
"To M. Danglars." 
"By heaven!" cried Caderousse, drawing from his waistcoat an open knife, and striking the count in the breast, "you shall disclose nothing, reverend sir!" To Caderousse's great astonishment, the knife, instead of piercing the count's breast, flew back blunted. At the same moment the count seized with his left hand the assassin's wrist, and wrung it with such strength that the knife fell from his stiffened fingers, and Caderousse uttered a cry of pain. But the count, disregarding his cry, continued to wring the bandit's wrist, until, his arm being dislocated, he fell first on his knees, then flat on the floor. The count then placed his foot on his head, saying, "I know not what restrains me from crushing thy skull, rascal." 
"Ah, mercy--mercy!" cried Caderousse. The count withdrew his foot. "Rise!" said he. Caderousse rose. 
"What a wrist you have, reverend sir!" said Caderousse. stroking his arm, all bruised by the fleshy pincers which had held it; "what a wrist!" 
"Silence! God gives me strength to overcome a wild beast like you; in the name of that God I act,--remember that, wretch,--and to spare thee at this moment is still serving him." 
"Oh!" said Caderousse, groaning with pain. 
"Take this pen and paper, and write what I dictate." 
"I don't know how to write, reverend sir." 
"You lie! Take this pen, and write!" Caderousse, awed by the superior power of the abbé, sat down and wrote:-- 
Sir,--The man whom you are receiving at your house, and to whom you intend to marry your daughter, is a felon who escaped with me from confinement at Toulon. He was No. 59, and I No. 58. He was called Benedetto, but he is ignorant of his real name, having never known his parents. 
"Sign it!" continued the count. 
"But would you ruin me?" 
"If I sought your ruin, fool, I should drag you to the first guard-house; besides, when that note is delivered, in all probability you will have no more to fear. Sign it, then!" 
Caderousse signed it. "The address, 'To monsieur the Baron Danglars, banker, Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin.'" Caderousse wrote the address. The abbé took the note. "Now," said he, "that suffices--begone!" 
"Which way?" 
"The way you came." 
"You wish me to get out at that window?" 
"You got in very well." 
"Oh, you have some design against me, reverend sir." 
"Idiot! what design can I have?" 
"Why, then, not let me out by the door?" 
"What would be the advantage of waking the porter?"-- 
"Ah, reverend sir, tell me, do you wish me dead?" 
"I wish what God wills." 
"But swear that you will not strike me as I go down." 
"Cowardly fool!" 
"What do you intend doing with me?" 
"I ask you what can I do? I have tried to make you a happy man, and you have turned out a murderer." 
"Oh, monsieur," said Caderousse, "make one more attempt--try me once more!" 
"I will," said the count. "Listen--you know if I may be relied on." 
"Yes," said Caderousse. 
"If you arrive safely at home"-- 
"What have I to fear, except from you?" 
"If you reach your home safely, leave Paris, leave France, and wherever you may be, so long as you conduct yourself well, I will send you a small annuity; for, if you return home safely, then"-- 
"Then?" asked Caderousse, shuddering. 
"Then I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you too." 
"As true as I am a Christian," stammered Caderousse, "you will make me die of fright!" 
"Now begone," said the count, pointing to the window. 
Caderousse, scarcely yet relying on this promise, put his legs out of the window and stood on the ladder. "Now go down," said the abbé, folding his arms. Understanding he had nothing more to fear from him, Caderousse began to go down. Then the count brought the taper to the window, that it might be seen in the Champs-Elysées that a man was getting out of the window while another held a light. 
"What are you doing, reverend sir? Suppose a watchman should pass?" And he blew out the light. He then descended, but it was only when he felt his foot touch the ground that he was satisfied of his safety. 
Monte Cristo returned to his bedroom, and, glancing rapidly from the garden to the street, he saw first Caderousse, who after walking to the end of the garden, fixed his ladder against the wall at a different part from where he came in. The count then looking over into the street, saw the man who appeared to be waiting run in the same direction, and place himself against the angle of the wall where Caderousse would come over. Caderousse climbed the ladder slowly, and looked over the coping to see if the street was quiet. No one could be seen or heard. The clock of the Invalides struck one. Then Caderousse sat astride the coping, and drawing up his ladder passed it over the wall; then he began to descend, or rather to slide down by the two stanchions, which he did with an ease which proved how accustomed he was to the exercise. But, once started, he could not stop. In vain did he see a man start from the shadow when he was halfway down--in vain did he see an arm raised as he touched the ground. Before he could defend himself that arm struck him so violently in the back that he let go the ladder, crying, "Help!" A second blow struck him almost immediately in the side, and he fell, calling, "Help, murder!" Then, as he rolled on the ground, his adversary seized him by the hair, and struck him a third blow in the chest. This time Caderousse endeavored to call again, but he could only utter a groan, and he shuddered as the blood flowed from his three wounds. The assassin, finding that he no longer cried out, lifted his head up by the hair; his eyes were closed, and the mouth was distorted. The murderer, supposing him dead, let fall his head and disappeared. Then Caderousse, feeling that he was leaving him, raised himself on his elbow, and with a dying voice cried with great effort, "Murder! I am dying! Help, reverend sir,--help!" 
This mournful appeal pierced the darkness. The door of the back-staircase opened, then the side-gate of the garden, and Ali and his master were on the spot with lights.  
在我们所叙述的那一场谈话发生后的第二天，基督山伯爵带着阿里和几个随从到欧特伊去，他还带了几匹马同去，想到那儿去确定它们的品质。他这次出门安德烈事先并不知道，甚至伯爵自己在前一天也不曾想到；他这次到欧特伊去是贝尔图乔促成的，因为他刚从诺曼底回来，带来了房子和单桅船的消息。房子已经买妥了，那艘单桅船是在一星期以前到的，现在已下锚在一条小溪里，船上的六个船员已办妥一切必需的手续，随时都可以出海。伯爵对贝尔图乔的热心办事称赞了几句，吩咐他随时准备好突然起程，因为他在法国逗留的时间不会超过一个月了。 
“现在，”他说，“我或许需要在一夜之间就从巴黎跑到的黎港，路上随时准备好八匹快马，可以使我在十小时之内走完一百五十哩路程。” 
“太人已经表示过那种希望了，”贝尔图乔说，“那些马已经准备好了，都是我亲自去买、亲自去派定地点的。我所选的都是最合宜的地点，就是，在普通没有人驻足的小村子里。” 
“那很好，”基督山说，“我要在这儿住一两天，你根据这一点去布置吧。” 
贝尔图乔正要离开房间去作必要的吩咐的时候，巴浦斯汀开门进来了；他拿着一只银盘，银盘上放着一封信。 
“你到这儿来干什么？”伯爵看到他那种风尘仆仆的样子，就问道。“我想，我并没有派人去叫你吧？” 
巴浦斯汀并不回答，走到伯爵面前，呈上那封信。“是紧要的急信。”他说。伯爵拆开信，读道：“兹通知基督山先生：今天晚上有人要到他香榭丽舍大道的家里去，想在更衣室的写字台里窃取某些文件。伯爵素以勇敢闻名，大可不必请警察局帮忙，警察局的干涉或许会严重地影响到送这封忠告信的人。伯爵只要躲在寝室的门窗后面，或隐藏在更衣室里，就足以亲自保护他的财产。过多的侍从或明显的防范会阻止那个恶棍的企图；而基督山先生就会因此丧失发现一个敌人的机会。写这封警告信给伯爵的人是碰巧探听到这个企图的，假如这第一次的企图失败，将来再发生同样的企图的时候，他就不能再来警告了。” 
伯爵的初念以为是贼党的一个诡计——是一套大骗法，要把他的注意力吸引到一个较小的危险上去，以便使遭受一个更大的危险。他原想不顾他那位匿名朋友的劝告——或许正因为那个劝告——要把那封信送到警察总监那儿去，但转念一想，那或许真是一个只有他自己能认识的仇人，假如真是如此，那末还是他独自对付为妙。我们知道伯爵是怎样一个人；他的脑子里充满着坚强大胆的意志，他自称天下无不可能的事情，单凭那种魄力，就足以证明他和常人不同，这些都是毋庸我们再说的了。根据他过去的生活，根据他那种无所畏惧的决心，伯爵在他以往所经历的种种斗争里获得了一种难以想象的好斗的精神，有时他斗争的对象是自然，那就是上帝，有时他斗争的对象是世界，那可以说就是魔鬼。 
“他们不是要我的文件，”基督山说，“他们是想来杀死我。他们不是窃贼，而是刺客。我不愿意让警察总监来干涉我的私事。我很有钱，这件事情大可不必去占掉他那部门里的一部分预算经费。”巴浦斯汀交了信以后就退出房间，伯爵又把他叫回来。“你回到巴黎去，”他说，“把那儿的仆人都找来。我要全家的人都到欧特伊来。” 
“但那座房子里一个人都不留吗，大人？”巴浦斯汀问。 
“不，留下门房。” 
“大人记得门房离正屋是很远的。” 
“嗯！” 
“假如有人去偷东西，他一点都不会听到声音。” 
“谁去偷？” 
“贼。” 
“你是一个傻瓜，巴浦斯汀先生！贼或许会到房子里去偷东西，但那种事情却还不如有人不服从我那样可恼。”巴浦斯汀鞠了一躬。 
“你懂得我的意思了吗？”伯爵说。“把你的同伴都带到这儿来，全体都来。但一切东西都依旧照常，只是把楼下的百叶窗关了。” 
“二楼的呢？” 
“你知道这是从来不关的。去吧！” 
伯爵表示他想独自进餐，只要阿里一个侍候他。他照常以从容不迫的态度吃了饭，然后向阿里做了一个手势，叫他跟随他：他从边门出去，走到布洛涅大道，好象无意似地踏上到巴黎去的路，在黄昏时候，他发觉自己已经到了香榭丽舍大道三十号对面。他的屋子里一片漆黑，只有门房的卧室里点着一盏昏黄的孤灯，而正如巴浦斯汀所说的，门房和正室之间还相隔着四十步距离。基督山靠在一棵树上，用他那绝少错漏的眼光搜索马路，审察往来的行人，仔细探望邻近的街道，看有没有人躲在那儿。这样过了十分钟，他相信并没有人在注意他。他急忙带着阿里趋向侧门，轻捷地用钥匙打开门上的锁，挨身进去，从仆人的楼梯走上他的寝室；他不曾掀动一张窗帷，所以甚至连门房都绝未怀疑到屋主已经回来，他始终还以为是一座空屋。 
一到他的寝室里，伯爵就示意叫阿里止步；然后他走进更衣室里，详细检查了一番。一切都照常——那张宝贵的写字台仍在原位，钥匙依旧插在抽屉上。他把抽屉结结实实地锁上，拿了钥匙，回到寝室门口，除掉门上的搭扣，走进寝室里。这当儿，阿里已准备好伯爵需要的武器，——就是，一支短柄的马枪和一对单铳手枪一样容易瞄准的双铳手枪。有了这样的武装，伯爵手里就已掌握着五个人的性命。那时约莫是九点半钟光景。伯爵和阿里匆匆吃了一块面包，喝了一杯西班牙葡萄酒；然后基督山移开一块可移动的嵌板，由此注视隔壁房间里的情形。手枪和马枪就在他的身边，阿里站在他的附近，手里握着一把那种自十字军以来从未改变过式样的阿拉伯小斧头。从和更衣室平行的寝室的窗口里望出去，伯爵可以看到外面的街道。两个钟头就这样过去了。夜色非常浓黑；可是阿里和伯爵，前者由于他那野性的本质，后者无疑的得感谢他长期的狱中生活，却依旧能在黑暗中辨别出树枝的微动。门房里的那盏小灯早已熄灭了。假如真的有人要来袭击的话，那末，他们应该从下面的楼梯上来，而不会从窗口里进来。据基督山的意见，那些匪徒所要的是他的性命，而不是他的金钱。他们攻击的目标将是他的寝室，他们必须从后面的楼梯上来，或是从更衣室的窗口里进来。他让阿里守住通楼梯的那个门口，自己则继续注视更衣室。 
残废军人疗养院的时钟敲打十一点三刻了；西风带来了三下凄凉的、颤抖的钟声。当最后一下钟声消逝的时候，伯爵好象觉得听到更衣室那方面发出一下轻微的响声。这是第一下响声，说得更准确些，这是一下刻划东西的声音，接着就来了第二下、第三下；当第四下响声发出的时候，伯爵知道那是怎么一回事了。一只坚定而熟练的手正在用一颗钻石刻划一格玻璃窗的四边。伯爵觉得他的心跳得更急促了。凡是事先知道要遭遇危险的人，当危险真正临头的时候，他们的心还是会猛跳，他们的身体还是会不由自主地颤抖，这就是梦境与现实以及计划与实行之间的大区别。但基督山却只作了一个手势通知阿里，阿里懂得危险是在从更衣室那方面过来，就向他的主人挨近一点。基督山急于想确定他敌人的人数和实力。 
发出响声的那个窗口正和伯爵望入更衣室的那个洞口相对。他的眼睛一眨不眨地盯住那个洞口；他在黑暗中辨别出一个人影。然后有一格玻璃变成不透明的了。象是在外面粘上了一张纸似的；接着，那一方块玻璃格啦地响了一声，但并没有掉下来。一只手臂从窗洞里伸进来找搭扣。一秒钟以后，整个窗子转开来了，外面进来了一个人。他只有一个人。 
“那个混蛋真大胆！”伯爵低声地说。 
那当儿，阿里轻轻地在他的肩胛上拍了一下。他转过去来，阿里指一指寝室向街的那个窗口。基督山向那个窗口跨近三步，他知道他这个忠仆的目光非常敏锐。的确，他又看见了一个人，那个人正从门影里走出来，爬到矮墙顶上，似乎想探望里面的情形。“好！”他说，“有两个人，一个动手，一个望风。”他向阿里做了一个手势，要他监视街上的那个人。 
自己则回来注意更衣室里的那一个。 
那个划玻璃的人已经进来了，正伸着两臂在那儿摸索。最后，他似乎把房间里的情形摸熟了。房间里有两扇门，他把那两房门都闩上。 
当他走近通寝室的那扇门的时候，基督山以为他会进来，就举起一支手枪；但他只听到门闩滑动的声音。这只是一种预防手段。那位午夜的访客因为不知道伯爵已把搭扣除掉，以为自己现在已很安全，就泰然自若地开始起来。他从口袋里摸了一样东西，但究竟是什么东西，伯爵看不清楚，只见他把那样东西放在一张茶几上，然后笔直地立到写字台前面，去摸抽屉的锁，而出乎他意料之外的，是钥匙竟没有在那儿。但那个划玻璃的是一个心思很周到的人，他带着各种应急的用具。伯爵不久就听到一人串钥匙的声音，就是铜匠老是放在身边准备开各种锁的那种钥匙串，这个玩意儿窃贼们称之为“夜莺”，那无疑是因为开锁的时候它会唱出玎玲当啷的夜曲的缘故。“啊，啊！”基督山带着一个失望的微笑低声说：“他原来只是一个贼！” 
但那个人在黑暗里却找不到合适的钥匙。他拿起放茶几上的那样东西，按一按机钮，立刻就有一片仅可辨物的青白色的光反映到那个人的手和脸上。“啊唷！”基督山吃惊地退后一步说，“这是——” 
阿里举起他的斧头。 
“不要动，”基督山低声说，“放下你的斧头，我们不必用武器。”然后他用更低的声音又说了句话，因为伯爵刚才那声惊呼虽然很轻，却已惊动了那个人，他迅速地翻出窗外，恢复了以前划玻璃时的状态。伯爵刚才所说的话是一个命令：因为阿里立刻无声地走出去，拿回来一件黑色的长袍和一顶三色帽。这当儿，基督山已经急急地脱掉他的外套、背心和衬衫，露出一件闪闪发光的柔软的钢丝背心；这种钢丝背心国王路易十六也曾穿过，只是路易十六并没有因为穿钢丝背心而保全性命，因为他最初只怕有人用匕首刺他的胸口，而结果却是他脑袋上被人砍了一斧头。这件钢丝背心不久就被掩没在一件长大的法衣底下了，他的头发也已被教士的假发所掩盖，再加上那顶三角帽，伯爵就立刻变成了一位神甫。 
那个人听不到别的声音，就又耸起身来，当基督山快要化装完毕的时候，他已直趋到写字台前面，写字台上的锁开始在他那夜莺的探试之下格啦格啦地响起来。 
“干得好！”伯爵低声说，他无疑很信任锁上的某种秘密机关，相信那个撬锁的人虽然聪明，恐怕也未必能知道他有这种设备——“干得好！你还得有几分钟的工作呢。”于是他走到窗边。坐在矮墙上的那个人已经下去了，依旧在街上走来走去；但真够奇怪，他毫不顾忌从香榭丽舍大道或圣·奥诺路过来的行人。他似乎全神贯注地在想象伯爵屋里的情形；他唯一的目标似乎在思辨更衣室里的每一个动作。 
基督山突然拍一拍自己的前额，他的嘴唇上掠过一个微笑，然后把阿里拖到身边，对他耳语说：“留在这儿，躲在黑暗里，不论你听到什么声音，不论发生什么事情，你都不要进来，也不要露面，除非我叫你。”阿里鞠了一躬，表示他已听懂，而且愿意服从。基督山于是从衣柜里拿出一支点燃着的小蜡烛，当那个窃贼正在全神贯注地拨弄他的锁的时候，他静悄悄地推开门，小心不使烛光直接照到他的脸上。那扇门是开得这样静寂，以致那个窃贼竟一点都没有听到声音，但使他惊诧的是：房间里忽然亮起来了。他转过身来。 
“晚安，亲爱的卡德鲁斯先生！”基督山说，“你在这个时候到这儿来干什么？” 
“布沙尼神甫！”卡德鲁斯惊喊道。他不知道这个怪人是怎么进来的，因为他已经把两扇门都闩住了，他手上的那中钥匙无力地落了下来，他一动不动地站着，惊呆了。伯爵走过去站在卡德鲁斯和窗口之间，这样就切断了窃贼唯一的退路，“布沙尼神甫！”卡德鲁斯又说，用他那呆瞪瞪的眼光盯住伯爵。 
“是的，当然罗，正是布沙尼神甫，因为我们自从上次见面以来，至少已有十年左右了。” 
布沙尼这种镇定、讽刺和大胆的态度使卡德鲁斯踉跄地倒退了几步。“神甫，神甫！”他喃喃地说，他的两手紧紧握成拳头，牙齿格格地发抖。 
“你是要来偷基督山伯爵吗？”假神甫又说。 
“神甫阁下，”卡德鲁斯惶恐地说，他想回到窗口那儿去，但窗口已被伯爵无情地挡住，——“神甫阁下，我不知道—— 
相信我——我向您起誓——” 
“玻璃窗划破了一格，”伯爵又说，“一盏夜光灯，一串假钥匙，写字台的抽屉被撬开了一半——这已经是够明显的啦——” 
卡德鲁斯急得直喘气，他四面观望，想找一个角落躲进去——找一条路逃走。 
“算了，”伯爵继续说，“我看你还是和从前一样——是一个暗杀犯。” 
“神甫阁下，既然你一切都知道，你就一定知道那件事不是我干的，而是卡康脱人干的，那已经在法庭上证实过的了，因此我只被判罪到苦工船上去做苦工。” 
“那末，既然你已从那儿回来，你大概已经服刑期满了吧？” 
“不，神甫阁下，我是被一个人救出来的。” 
“那个人倒对社会做了一件很大的功德。” 
“啊，”卡德鲁斯说，“我曾答应——” 
“而你破坏了你的诺言！”基督山打断他的话说。 
“唉，是的！”卡德鲁斯非常不安地说。 
“旧病复发！而那种毛病，假如我没有弄错的话，是会把你带到格里维广场［巴黎处决死刑犯的地方。——译注］去的。那就槽了，那就糟了！劣性难改！这是我国的一句俗语。” 
“神甫阁下，我是被迫——” 
“每一个犯人都是那样说的。” 
“因为穷——” 
“哼！”布沙尼轻蔑地说，“贫穷可以迫使一个人乞求施舍，或迫使他到一家面包店门口去偷一块面包，但却不会迫使他到有人住的房子里去撬开一张写字台。再说，当珠宝商蒋尼斯向你买我给你的那只钻戒的时候，你刚刚拿到四万五千法郎，便立刻又杀死他，要把钻戒和钱同时到手，那也是为了穷吗？” 
“饶了我吧，神甫阁下！”卡德鲁斯说，“你救过我一次命，再救我一次吧！” 
“这种话并不十分动听。” 
“你只有一个人呢，还是另外有兵埋伏在那儿准备捉我，神甫阁下？” 
“我只有一个人，”神甫说，“我可以再可怜你一次，让你逃走，不惜让我自己将来再后悔心肠太软——只要你对我说实话。” 
“啊，神甫阁下，”卡德鲁斯紧握着双手喊道，并向基督山挨近来一些，“我的确该说你是我的救主！” 
“你说有一个人把你从苦工船上救出来？” 
“是的，这是真的，神甫阁下。” 
“救你的那个人是谁？” 
“一个英国人。” 
“他叫什么名字？” 
“威玛勋爵。” 
“我认识他的，所以我将来可以知道你究竟有没有说谎。” 
“神甫阁下，我告诉你的都是实话。” 
“那末是这个英国人保护了你？” 
“不，不是保护了我，而是保护了一个年轻的科西嘉人——和我拴在一条铁链上的同伴。” 
“这个年青的科西嘉人叫什么名字？” 
“贝尼代托。” 
“那是一个教名。” 
“他再没有别的名字了。他是一个弃儿。” 
“那么这个青年人和你一同逃走了？” 
“是的。” 
“怎么逃的？” 
“我们在土伦附近的圣·曼德里工厂做工。你是知道那地方的吧？” 
“是的，我知道。” 
“嗯，在午睡的时间，就是在中午十二点到一点钟之间——” 
“苦工船上的奴隶在吃过午饭以后竟还能打一次瞌睡！我们实在应该多可怜可怜那些穷人了！”神甫说。 
“不，”卡德鲁斯说，“一个人不能永远做工呀，一个人不是一条狗！” 
“还是可怜狗好！”基督山说。 
“当其余那些人在睡觉的时候，我们走远一点，用那个英国人给我们的锉刀断我们的脚镣，然后游水逃走。” 
“这个贝尼代托后来怎么样了？” 
“我不知道。” 
“你应该知道。” 
“不，真的我们在耶尔就分手了。”为了加重这句话的语气，卡德鲁斯又向神甫走近了一步，神甫一动不动地站在他原来的地方，态度很镇定，目光中带着询问的神色。 
“你撒谎！”布沙尼神甫用一种无法抗拒的威严的口吻说。 
“神甫阁下！” 
“你撒谎！这个人依旧是你的朋友，你或许还在利用他作你的同党。” 
“噢，神甫阁下！” 
“自从你离开十伦以来，你是靠什么过生活的？回答我！” 
“我能得到什么就吃什么。” 
“你撒谎！”神甫第三次说这句话，口吻比前更威严了。 
卡德鲁斯吓得呆呆地望着伯爵。 
“你是靠他给你的钱过活的。” 
“是的，不错，”卡德鲁斯说。“贝尼代托已变成一个大贵族的儿子了。” 
“他怎么能变成一个大贵族的儿子的呢？” 
“他本来就是他的儿子。” 
“那个大贵族叫什么名字？” 
“基督山伯爵，就是我们现在所在的这座房子的主人翁。” 
“贝尼代托是伯爵的儿子！”基督山答道，这次可得轮到他表示惊奇了。 
“嗯！我相信是的，因为伯爵给他找了一个假父亲，因为伯爵每月给他四千法郎，并且在他的遗嘱里留给他五十万法郎。” 
“哦，哦！”假神甫说，他开始懂得了。“那个青年人目前叫什么名字呢？” 
“安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂。” 
“那么，就是我的朋友基督山伯爵曾在家里招待过他，快要和腾格拉尔小姐结婚的那个青年人了？” 
“一点不错。” 
“你这个混蛋！——你，你知道他过去那种可耻的生活，你竟隐忍不言吗？” 
“我何必要拦阻一个伙伴的好事呢？”卡德鲁斯说。 
“你说得对，应该去通知腾格拉尔先生的不是你，而是我。” 
“别那么做，神甫阁下。” 
“为什么不？” 
“因为你会把我们两个都弄垮的。” 
“而你以为，为了救你们这样的恶棍，我竟能纵容你们的阴谋——做你们的帮凶吗？” 
“神甫阁下。”卡德鲁斯说，又挨近来一些。 
“我要把一切都揭露出来。” 
“向谁揭露？” 
“腾格拉尔先生。” 
“天哪！”卡德鲁斯一面喊，一面从他的背心里拔出一把张开的小刀，向伯爵的胸口刺去，“你什么都揭露不了啦，神甫阁下。” 
使卡德鲁斯万分惊奇的是：那把小刀非但没有刺进伯爵的胸口，而且反而折断刀锋倒弹了回来。这当儿，伯爵用他的左手抓住那暗杀者的手腕，用力一扭，那把小刀就从他那僵硬的手指间掉了下来。卡德鲁斯发出一声痛苦的喊叫，但伯爵不管他怎么叫，继续扭那匪徒的手腕，直到他的手臂脱节，跪下来，又仰跌到地板上。伯爵于是用一只脚踏住他的头，说：“我不知道究竟是什么力量阻止我不踏破你的脑袋，你这混蛋！” 
“啊，发发慈悲吧，发发慈悲吧！”卡德鲁斯喊道。 
伯爵收回他的脚。“起来！”他说。 
卡德鲁斯爬起身来。“噢，你的腕力多大呀，神甫阁下！”他说，一面拍打着他那条被那肉钳得青紫斑斑的手臂——“多大的腕力呀！” 
“住口！上帝给我力量来制服象你这样的野兽。我是在代上帝行道——记住吧，畜生！我现在饶赦你，还是为了他。” 
“噢！”卡德鲁斯痛苦地呻吟着说。 
“拿了这支笔和这张纸，我讲你写。” 
“我不会写字，神甫阁下。” 
“你撒谎！快拿了这支笔，写！” 
卡德鲁斯慑于神甫的威严，坐下来写道：“先生——现在蒙你优礼接待，并且快要和令媛结婚的那个人，是和我一同从土伦苦工船里逃出来的重犯，他是五十九号，我是五十八号。他名叫贝尼代托，但他却不知道他的真姓名，因为他始终不知道他的父母是谁。” 
“签名！”伯爵继续说。 
“你这不是要断送我的性命吗？” 
“傻瓜，假如我要断送你的性命，我就会把你拖到最近的警察局去。而且，这封信一发出去，你多半就可以不再有所恐惧了。所以，签名吧！” 
卡德鲁斯签了名。 
“地址是，‘安顿大马路，腾格拉尔男爵府，腾格拉尔先生。’” 
卡德鲁斯写上地址。神甫接过那张信笺。”现在，”他说，“够了，去吧！” 
“走哪一条路出去？” 
“你来时的那条路。” 
“你要我从那个窗口出去吗？” 
“你进来的时候就很方便呀。” 
“噢！你已经想定一个打击我的计划了吧，神甫阁下。” 
“呆子！我能有什么计划？” 
“那末，为什么不让我从大门出去呢？” 
“吵醒门房有什么好处？” 
“神甫阁下，告诉我，你不希望我死吧？” 
“我以上帝的意志作我的希望。” 
“但你发一个誓，决不在我下去的时候打我。” 
“懦怯的傻瓜！” 
“预备拿我怎么样？” 
“我问你我能拿你怎么样？我曾尝试想把你造成一个快乐的人，而我却把你造成了一个暗杀者。” 
“神甫阁下，”卡德鲁斯说，’再来尝试一次，再试我一试吧！” 
“可以的，”伯爵说。“听着！你知道我是一个克守诺言的人？” 
“是的。”卡德鲁斯说。 
“假如你平平安安地回到了家里——” 
“除了你以外，我还怕什么呢？” 
“假如你平平安安地回到了家里，就离开巴黎，离开法国，不论你在什么地方，只要你规规矩矩地做人，我就会派人送你一笔小小的养老金——因为假如你平平安安地回到了家里，那么——” 
“那么？”卡德鲁斯打了一个寒颤。 
“那么我就相信上帝已宽恕你，而我也可以宽恕你了。” 
“说老实话，”卡德鲁斯结结巴巴地说，“你简直要吓死我啦！” 
“快去吧！”伯爵指着窗口说。 
卡德鲁斯虽然得了这一番保证，却依旧并不十分放心，他两腿跨出窗外，站在梯子上。 
“快下去，”神甫交叉着两臂说。卡德鲁斯知道不必再怕他了，就开始下去。于是伯爵把那支小蜡烛移到窗前，使香榭丽舍大道上可以看到有一个人在从窗口里翻出来，一个人则拿着一支蜡烛给他照亮。 
“你这是干什么，神甫阁下？要是有巡警经过可怎么好呢？”于是他吹熄蜡烛，然后下去；直到他的脚踏到地面的时候他才放心了。 
基督山回到他的寝室里，急速地从花园望到街道；他先看卡德罗斯走到花园的墙脚下，把他的梯子靠在墙是，靠梯子的地点和进来的时候不同。然后伯爵向街上望去，看见那个似乎在等待的人向同一的方向奔过来，躲在卡德鲁斯就要翻出去的那个墙角里。卡德鲁斯慢慢地爬上梯子，从墙头上望出去，看街道是否静寂。他看不见人，也听不到人声。残废军人疗养院的时钟敲了一下。于是卡德鲁斯骑在墙头上，把梯子抽起来，把它靠在墙外；然后他开始下去，或说得更准确些，是跨着梯子的两条直柱滑下去，这个动作他做得很安闲自在，证明他是多么的练习有素。但一开始滑下去，他就无法中途停止了。虽然他在滑到一半的时候看见有一个人从阴影里出来，却也毫无办法；虽然他在滑到下面的时候看见有一条手臂举起来，却也毫无办法。在他还无法保卫自己以前，那条手臂就已非常猛烈地打击到他的背上，他放开梯子，喊出一声“救命哪！杀人呀！”当他这样在地上滚来滚去的时候，他的对手抓住他的头发，在他的胸部又刺了一刀。这一次，卡德鲁斯虽然竭力想叫喊，但他却只能发出一声呻吟；鲜血从他的三处伤口里津津地流出来，他全身不由自主地打着寒颤。凶手看到他已不能叫喊，就拉住他的头发，扳起他的头；他双眼紧闭，嘴巴歪在一边。凶手以为他已经死了，就放开他的头，溜走了。卡德鲁斯觉得凶手已经离开，就用手肘撑起身体，以一种垂死的声音竭力大喊：’杀人啦！我要死啦！救命呀，神甫阁上！救命呀！” 
这种凄惨的呼吁刺破了黑暗。通后楼梯的门开了，接着，花园的侧门也开了；阿里和他的主人拿着蜡烛来到出事的地点。 
Chapter 83 The Hand of God
 CADEROUSSE continued to call piteously, "Help, reverend sir, help!" 
"What is the matter?" asked Monte Cristo. 
"Help," cried Caderousse; "I am murdered!" 
"We are here;--take courage." 
"Ah, it's all over! You are come too late--you are come to see me die. What blows, what blood!" He fainted. Ali and his master conveyed the wounded man into a room. Monte Cristo motioned to Ali to undress him, and he then examined his dreadful wounds. "My God!" he exclaimed, "thy vengeance is sometimes delayed, but only that it may fall the more effectually." Ali looked at his master for further instructions. "Bring here immediately the king's attorney, M. de Villefort, who lives in the Faubourg St. Honoré. As you pass the lodge, wake the porter, and send him for a surgeon." Ali obeyed, leaving the abbé alone with Caderousse, who had not yet revived. 
When the wretched man again opened his eyes, the count looked at him with a mournful expression of pity, and his lips moved as if in prayer. "A surgeon, reverend sir--a surgeon!" said Caderousse. 
"I have sent for one," replied the abbé. 
"I know he cannot save my life, but he may strengthen me to give my evidence." 
"Against whom?" 
"Against my murderer." 
"Did you recognize him?" 
"Yes; it was Benedetto." 
"The young Corsican?" 
"Himself." 
"Your comrade?" 
"Yes. After giving me the plan of this house, doubtless hoping I should kill the count and he thus become his heir, or that the count would kill me and I should be out of his way, he waylaid me, and has murdered me." 
"I have also sent for the procureur." 
"He will not come in time; I feel my life fast ebbing." 
"Wait a moment," said Monte Cristo. He left the room, and returned in five minutes with a phial. The dying man's eyes were all the time riveted on the door, through which he hoped succor would arrive. "Hasten, reverend sir, hasten! I shall faint again!" Monte Cristo approached, and dropped on his purple lips three or four drops of the contents of the phial. Caderousse drew a deep breath. "Oh," said he, "that is life to me; more, more!" 
"Two drops more would kill you," replied the abbé. 
"Oh, send for some one to whom I can denounce the wretch!" 
"Shall I write your deposition? You can sign it." 
"Yes yes," said Caderousse; and his eyes glistened at the thought of this posthumous revenge. Monte Cristo wrote:-- 
"I die, murdered by the Corsican Benedetto, my comrade in the galleys at Toulouse, No. 59." 
"Quick, quick!" said Caderousse, "or I shall be unable to sign it." 
Monte Cristo gave the pen to Caderousse, who collected all his strength, signed it, and fell back on his bed, saying: "You will relate all the rest, reverend sir; you will say he calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti. He lodges at the H?tel des Princes. Oh, I am dying!" He again fainted. The abbé made him smell the contents of the phial, and he again opened his eyes. His desire for revenge had not forsaken him. 
"Ah, you will tell all I have said, will you not, reverend sir?" 
"Yes, and much more." 
"What more will you say?" 
"I will say he had doubtless given you the plan of this house, in the hope the count would kill you. I will say, likewise, he had apprised the count, by a note, of your intention, and, the count being absent, I read the note and sat up to await you." 
"And he will be guillotined, will be not?" said Caderousse. "Promise me that, and I will die with that hope." 
"I will say," continued the count, "that he followed and watched you the whole time, and when he saw you leave the house, ran to the angle of the wall to conceal himself." 
"Did you see all that?" 
"Remember my words: 'If you return home safely, I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you also.'" 
"And you did not warn me!" cried Caderousse, raising himself on his elbows. "You knew I should be killed on leaving this house, and did not warn me!" 
"No; for I saw God's justice placed in the hands of Benedetto, and should have thought it sacrilege to oppose the designs of providence." 
"God's justice! Speak not of it, reverend sir. If God were just, you know how many would be punished who now escape." 
"Patience," said the abbé, in a tone which made the dying man shudder; "have patience!" Caderousse looked at him with amazement. "Besides," said the abbé, "God is merciful to all, as he has been to you; he is first a father, then a judge." 
"Do you then believe in God?" said Caderousse. 
"Had I been so unhappy as not to believe in him until now," said Monte Cristo, "I must believe on seeing you." Caderousse raised his clinched hands towards heaven. 
"Listen," said the abbé, extending his hand over the wounded man, as if to command him to believe; "this is what the God in whom, on your death-bed, you refuse to believe, has done for you--he gave you health, strength, regular employment, even friends--a life, in fact, which a man might enjoy with a calm conscience. Instead of improving these gifts, rarely granted so abundantly, this has been your course--you have given yourself up to sloth and drunkenness, and in a fit of intoxication have ruined your best friend." 
"Help!" cried Caderousse; "I require a surgeon, not a priest; perhaps I am not mortally wounded--I may not die; perhaps they can yet save my life." 
"Your wounds are so far mortal that, without the three drops I gave you, you would now be dead. Listen, then." 
"Ah," murmured Caderousse, "what a strange priest you are; you drive the dying to despair, instead of consoling them." 
"Listen," continued the abbé. "When you had betrayed your friend God began not to strike, but to warn you. Poverty overtook you. You had already passed half your life in coveting that which you might have honorably acquired; and already you contemplated crime under the excuse of want, when God worked a miracle in your behalf, sending you, by my hands, a fortune--brilliant, indeed, for you, who had never possessed any. But this unexpected, unhoped-for, unheard-of fortune sufficed you no longer when you once possessed it; you wished to double it, and how?--by a murder! You succeeded, and then God snatched it from you, and brought you to justice." 
"It was not I who wished to kill the Jew," said Caderousse; "it was La Carconte." 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "and God,--I cannot say in justice, for his justice would have slain you,--but God, in his mercy, spared your life." 
"Pardieu! to transport me for life, how merciful!" 
"You thought it a mercy then, miserable wretch! The coward who feared death rejoiced at perpetual disgrace; for like all galley-slaves, you said, 'I may escape from prison, I cannot from the grave.' And you said truly; the way was opened for you unexpectedly. An Englishman visited Toulon, who had vowed to rescue two men from infamy, and his choice fell on you and your companion. You received a second fortune, money and tranquillity were restored to you, and you, who had been condemned to a felon's life, might live as other men. Then, wretched creature, then you tempted God a third time. 'I have not enough,' you said, when you had more than you before possessed, and you committed a third crime, without reason, without excuse. God is wearied; he has punished you." Caderousse was fast sinking. "Give me drink," said he: "I thirst--I burn!" Monte Cristo gave him a glass of water. "And yet that villain, Benedetto, will escape!" 
"No one, I tell you, will escape; Benedetto will be punished." 
"Then, you, too, will be punished, for you did not do your duty as a priest--you should have prevented Benedetto from killing me." 
"I?" said the count, with a smile which petrified the dying man, "when you had just broken your knife against the coat of mail which protected my breast! Yet perhaps if I had found you humble and penitent, I might have prevented Benedetto from killing you; but I found you proud and blood-thirsty, and I left you in the hands of God." 
"I do not believe there is a God," howled Caderousse; "you do not believe it; you lie--you lie!" 
"Silence," said the abbé; "you will force the last drop of blood from your veins. What! you do not believe in God when he is striking you dead? you will not believe in him, who requires but a prayer, a word, a tear, and he will forgive? God, who might have directed the assassin's dagger so as to end your career in a moment, has given you this quarter of an hour for repentance. Reflect, then, wretched man, and repent." 
"No," said Caderousse, "no; I will not repent. There is no God; there is no providence--all comes by chance."-- 
"There is a providence; there is a God," said Monte Cristo, "of whom you are a striking proof, as you lie in utter despair, denying him, while I stand before you, rich, happy, safe and entreating that God in whom you endeavor not to believe, while in your heart you still believe in him." 
"But who are you, then?" asked Caderousse, fixing his dying eyes on the count. "Look well at me!" said Monte Cristo, putting the light near his face. "Well, the abbé--the Abbé Busoni." Monte Cristo took off the wig which disfigured him, and let fall his black hair, which added so much to the beauty of his pallid features. "Oh?" said Caderousse, thunderstruck, "but for that black hair, I should say you were the Englishman, Lord Wilmore." 
"I am neither the Abbé Busoni nor Lord Wilmore," said Monte Cristo; "think again,--do you not recollect me?" Those was a magic effect in the count's words, which once more revived the exhausted powers of the miserable man. "Yes, indeed," said he; "I think I have seen you and known you formerly." 
"Yes, Caderousse, you have seen me; you knew me once." 
"Who, then, are you? and why, if you knew me, do you let me die?" 
"Because nothing can save you; your wounds are mortal. Had it been possible to save you, I should have considered it another proof of God's mercy, and I would again have endeavored to restore you, I swear by my father's tomb." 
"By your father's tomb!" said Caderousse, supported by a supernatural power, and half-raising himself to see more distinctly the man who had just taken the oath which all men hold sacred; "who, then, are you?" The count had watched the approach of death. He knew this was the last struggle. He approached the dying man, and, leaning over him with a calm and melancholy look, he whispered, "I am--I am"--And his almost closed lips uttered a name so low that the count himself appeared afraid to hear it. Caderousse, who had raised himself on his knees, and stretched out his arm, tried to draw back, then clasping his hands, and raising them with a desperate effort, "O my God, my God!" said he, "pardon me for having denied thee; thou dost exist, thou art indeed man's father in heaven, and his judge on earth. My God, my Lord, I have long despised thee! Pardon me, my God; receive me, O my Lord!" Caderousse sighed deeply, and fell back with a groan. The blood no longer flowed from his wounds. He was dead. 
"One!" said the count mysteriously, his eyes fixed on the corpse, disfigured by so awful a death. Ten minutes afterwards the surgeon and the procureur arrived, the one accompanied by the porter, the other by Ali, and were received by the Abbé Busoni, who was praying by the side of the corpse.  
卡德鲁斯继续悲惨地喊道：“神甫阁下，救命呀！救命呀！” 
“怎么一回事呀？”基督山问道。 
“救命呀！”卡德鲁斯喊道，“我被人害死啦！” 
“我们在这儿，勇敢一点！” 
“呀，完啦！你们来得太迟喽，你们是来给我送终罢了。刺得多厉害呀！好多血呀！”他昏了过去。 
阿里和他的主人把那个受伤的人找到一个房间里，基督山示意阿里给他脱衣服，他发现三处可怕的伤口。“我的上帝！”他叹道，“您的报应多少是来得迟了一点了，但那只是为了可以报应得更有力。”阿里望着他的主人，等待新的指示。 
“立刻领检察官维尔福先生到这儿来，他住在圣·奥诺路。你出去的时候，顺便叫醒门房，派他去请一位医生来。”阿里遵命而去，房间里只剩下了神甫和卡德鲁斯，后者还没有醒过来。 
当那恶人又张开了他的眼睛的时候，伯爵正带着一种怜悯的表情望着他，他的嘴巴在微动，象是在做祷告。“医生哟，神甫阁下，找一个医生来哟！”卡德鲁斯说。 
“我已经派人去请了。”神甫回答。 
“我知道他不能救我的命，但他或许可以使我多活一会儿，让我有时间告发他。” 
“告发谁？” 
“告发杀我的凶手。” 
“你认不认识他？” 
“认识，他是贝尼代托。” 
“那个年青的科西嘉人？” 
“就是他。” 
“你的同伙？” 
“是的。他给我这座房子的图样，无疑是希望我杀死伯爵，以便让他继承他的财产，或者伯爵杀死我，免得我阻碍他。他埋伏在墙角里，暗杀我。” 
“我也已经派人去请检察官了。” 
“他来不及赶到的了，我觉得我的生命已在很快地衰退下去了。” 
“等一等！”基督山说。他离开房间，不到五分钟，拿着一只小药瓶回来。 
那个垂死的人的眼睛不断地盯住那扇门，他希望救兵会从那扇门里进来。“赶快，神甫阁下！赶快！我又要昏啦！” 
基督山走过去，把小瓶里的药水滴了三四滴到他那发紫的嘴唇上。卡德鲁斯深深地吸了一口气。“噢！”他说，“真是救命良药，多一点，多一点！” 
“再多两滴就会杀死你了。”神甫回答。 
“噢，只要来一个人，让我向他告发那个恶棍就好了！” 
“要不要我给你写口供？你只要签一个字就行了。” 
“好的，好的。”卡德鲁斯说。想到死后能够复仇，他的眼睛顿时焕发起来。基督山写道：我是被科西嘉人贝尼代托害死的，他是土伦苦工船上五十九号囚犯，是我一条锁链上的同伴。” 
“快！快！”卡德鲁斯说：“不然我就不能签字了。” 
基督山把笔递给卡德鲁斯，卡德鲁斯集中他的全部精力签了字，倒回到床上，说：“其余的由你口述吧，神甫阁下，你可以说，他自称为安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂。他住在太子旅馆里。噢，我要死啦！”他又昏了过去。神甫使他嗅小瓶里的药水，于是他又张开眼睛。复仇的希望并没有舍弃他。 
“啊，你会把我所说的一切都讲出来的吧，你肯不肯，神甫阁下？” 
“是的，而且还要讲得更多。” 
“你还要讲些什么？” 
“我要说，这座房子的图样无疑是他给你的，希望伯爵杀死你。我还要说，他写了一封信给伯爵，把你的企图通知他，伯爵不在，我读了那封信，于是坐在这儿等候你。” 
“他会杀头的吧，会不会？”卡德鲁斯说。“答应我那一点吧，让我抱着那个希望死——那可以使我容易死些。” 
“我要说，”伯爵继续说，“他始终跟踪着你，监视着你，当他看到你从房子里出去的时候，就奔到墙角里去躲起来。” 
“那一切你都看到的吗？” 
“想一想我的话：‘假如你平平安安地回到了家里，我就相信上帝已宽恕了你，而我也可以宽恕你了。’” 
“而你却不警告我一声！”卡德鲁斯用手肘撑起身体喊道。 
“你知道我一离开这座房子就要被人杀死，而你却不警告我！” 
“不，因为我看上帝是假手贝尼代托在执行他的法律，我觉得违反天意是亵渎神圣的。” 
“上帝的法律！别提了吧，神甫阁下。假如上帝是公正的，你知道有许多该受惩罚的人现在却依旧逍遥法外。” 
“耐心一点吧！”神甫说，他说这句话的口吻使那个垂死的人打了一个寒颤。“耐心一点！” 
卡德鲁斯惊愕地望着他。 
“而且，”神甫说，“上帝是慈悲普赐的，他也曾对你慈悲过，他最初是一位慈父，后来才变成一位法官。” 
“那么你相信上帝罗？” 
“即使我命穷福薄，截至目前为止还不相信他，”基督山说，“但看到你这种情形，我也必须相信了。” 
卡德鲁斯举起他那紧捏的双拳，伸向天空。 
“听着，”神甫一面说，一面伸出一只手虚悬在伤者的头上，象是要命令他相信似的。“你在你的灵床上还拒绝相信上帝，而上帝却曾为你做过许多事情：他给你康健、精力、正当的职业、甚至朋友——这种生活，凡是良心平稳、不作非分之想的人，的确是可以很满足的了。他很少赏赐这么多的恩惠给人，而你非但不想好好利用这些天恩，却反而自甘怠惰酗酒，在一次酩酊大醉中断送了你一个最好的朋友。” 
“救命呀！”卡德鲁斯喊道，“我要的是一位医生，不是一个教士。或许我所受的不是致命伤，或许我还不会死，或许他们还能救我的命。” 
“你的伤是太致命了，要不是我给你滴了三滴药水，你现在早就死了。所以，听着吧。” 
“啊！”卡德鲁斯低声地说，“你这个神甫多古怪！你非但不安慰垂死的人，反而要逼他们绝望。” 
“听着，”神甫继续说道。“当你出卖你的朋友的时候，上帝并不立刻惩罚你，而只给你一个警告。你被贫穷所迫，你半辈子贪望富贵，却不以正当的手段去寻求。你以借口生活所迫想去犯罪。那时，上帝为你创造了一个奇迹，借我的手送给了你一笔财产。对你来说，那已是非常可观的了，因为你从未有过什么财产。但当你获得了那笔意想不到的，闻所未闻的意外之财的时候，你又觉得不够了。你想要再增加一倍，用什么办法呢？杀人！你成功了。那时，上帝夺掉了你的财产，把你带到了法庭上。” 
“起念杀那个犹太人的不是我，”卡德鲁斯说，“是卡康脱女人。” 
“是的，”基督山说，“所以上帝——我不能说他执法公正无私，因为按理他应该把你处死，——但上帝慈悲为怀，饶了你的性命。” 
“哼！把我送到苦工船上去终身做苦工，多慈悲呀！” 
“你当时却以为那是慈悲的呀，你这该死的混蛋！你那懦怯的心一望到死就发抖，听到宣判终身监禁，就高兴得狂跳起来。因为象苦工船上所有的奴隶一样，你说：‘那扇门是通到苦工船上去的，不是诵到坟墓里去的。’你说对了，因为那扇通到苦工船上去的门对你实在有利。一个英国人碰巧去访问土伦，他发誓要拯救两个受罪的人，而他选择了你和你的同伴。你又得到了一笔财产——金钱和安宁又回到了你的身边。你，你本来命中注定了要终生过囚徒生活的。又可以过常人那种生活了。那时，贱人呀！——那时你又第三次去触怒了上帝。你那时的财产甚至比以前更多了，而你却说：‘我还不够。’你又第三次毫无理由，丝毫不能原谅地又犯了罪。这次上帝厌倦了，他惩罚了你。” 
卡德鲁斯的呼吸渐渐地微弱了。“给我喝点儿水！”他说道，“我口渴极了，我浑身象火烧一样！”基督山给了他一杯水。“可是贝尼代托那个混蛋，”卡德鲁斯交回了玻璃杯，说道，“他却可以逃脱了！” 
“我告诉你吧，谁都逃不了。贝尼代托也要受惩罚的。” 
“那么你也得受惩罚，因为你没有尽到你当教士的责任，你应该阻止贝尼代托，不让他来杀我。” 
“我？”伯爵微笑着说道，他那种微笑把那个垂死的人吓呆了——“你的刀尖刚才不是才折断在保护我胸膛的钢丝背心上吗！可是，假如我发觉你低首下心，自知悔悟，我或许会阻止贝尼代托，不让你被杀。但我发觉你依旧傲慢凶悍，所以我就让你落在上帝的手里。” 
“我不相信有上帝，”卡德鲁斯咆哮道，“你自己也不相信。你撒谎！你撒谎！” 
“住口！”神甫说道，“你要把你血管里的最后一滴血都挤出来了。什么！现在处死你的正是上帝，而你竟然还不相信他的存在，是吗？他要你作一次祷告，说一句话，掉一滴眼泪，这样上帝就可以宽恕你，难道你还不肯相信他吗？上帝本来可以使凶手的匕首在一霎时内就了结你的生命的，但他却给了你这一刻钟的时间，让你有时间可以忏悔。所以，想一想吧，贱人，忏悔吧。” 
“不，”卡德鲁斯说，“不，我不忏悔。天地间根本没有上帝，没有神，有的只是命运。” 
“天地间有一位神，有上帝，”基督山说。“其证据就是：你躺在这儿，绝望地否认着他，而我却站在你面前，富有，快乐，安全，并恳求上帝宽恕你，因为你虽竭力想不相信他，但你在心里却依旧是相信他的。” 
“那么，你是谁呢？”卡德鲁斯用他垂死的眼睛盯住伯爵问道。 
“仔细看看我！”基督山说道，把灯光移近了他的脸。 
“嗯，神甫，布沙尼神甫。” 
伯爵脱掉了那改变他相貌的假发，垂下了他那漆黑的头发，使他那苍白的脸顿时英俊了许多。 
“噢！”卡德鲁斯大吃了一惊，说道，“要不是那一头黑发，我就要说你就是那个英国人威玛勋爵啦。” 
“我既不是布沙尼神甫，也不是威玛勋爵，”基督山说。 
“再想想看，想得更远一些，在你早年的记忆里搜索一下。”伯爵的话里有一股魔力，使那可怜虫的极衰弱的神志又再度恢复了过来。 
“不错，”他说，我想我从前见过你，也认识你。” 
“对，卡德鲁斯，你见过我，我们曾经相识。” 
“那么你是谁呢？你既然认识我，怎么还能让我去死呢？” 
“因为已没有办法再救你了。你受的是致命伤。假如还有可能救你的命，我就会认为这是上帝对你另一次发慈悲，我也一定努力救你。我以我父亲的坟墓起誓！” 
“以你父亲的坟墓起誓！”卡德鲁斯说道，这时正是回光返照，他半撑起身子，想更清楚地看看那个发誓的人，因为他所发的誓言是所有人都认为神圣不可亵渎的。“你到底是谁？” 
伯爵已注意到对方离死已很近了。他知道这是最后的回光返照，就走近了那个垂死的人，脸上露出了镇静而忧郁的神色，弯下腰去轻声说道：“我是——我是——”他那几乎是闭着的嘴里轻轻地吐出一个名字，声音是那么低，仿佛连伯爵自己也怕听见似的。卡德鲁斯本来已撑起了身子跪着，伸出了一只胳膊，听到那名字又把身子缩了回来。他攥紧了拳头，用尽全身的力气把两手伸向天空，喊道：“哦，上帝！我的上帝！原谅我刚才否认了您！您的确是存在的。您确实是人类的在天之父，也是人间的审判官。我的上帝。接受我吧，我的主啊！”他紧闭双眼，发出了最后一声呻吟和最后一个叹息，就倒了下去。此时伤口已不再流血了，他已经死了。 
“一个！”伯爵神秘地说话，两眼盯着那尸体，这具尸体由于死得很惨，所以其形状特别可怕。十分钟后，医生和检察官都来了。一个由门房领着，另一个由阿里陪同着。接待他们的是布沙尼神甫，当时他正在尸体旁边做祷告呢。 
Chapter 84 Beauchamp
 THE DARING attempt to rob the count was the topic of conversation throughout Paris for the next fortnight. The dying man had signed a deposition declaring Benedetto to be the assassin. The police had orders to make the strictest search for the murderer. Caderousse's knife, dark lantern, bunch of keys, and clothing, excepting the waistcoat, which could not be found, were deposited at the registry; the corpse was conveyed to the morgue. The count told every one that this adventure had happened during his absence at Auteuil, and that he only knew what was related by the Abbé Busoni, who that evening, by mere chance, had requested to pass the night in his house, to examine some valuable books in his library. Bertuccio alone turned pale whenever Benedetto's name was mentioned in his presence, but there was no reason why any one should notice his doing so. Villefort, being called on to prove the crime, was preparing his brief with the same ardor that he was accustomed to exercise when required to speak in criminal cases. 
But three weeks had already passed, and the most diligent search had been unsuccessful; the attempted robbery and the murder of the robber by his comrade were almost forgotten in anticipation of the approaching marriage of Mademoiselle Danglars to the Count Andrea Cavalcanti. It was expected that this wedding would shortly take place, as the young man was received at the banker's as the betrothed. Letters had been despatched to M. Cavalcanti, as the count's father, who highly approved of the union, regretted his inability to leave Parma at that time, and promised a wedding gift of a hundred and fifty thousand livres. It was agreed that the three millions should be intrusted to Danglars to invest; some persons had warned the young man of the circumstances of his future father-in-law, who had of late sustained repeated losses; but with sublime disinterestedness and confidence the young man refused to listen, or to express a single doubt to the baron. The baron adored Count Andrea Cavalcanti: not so Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars. With an instinctive hatred of matrimony, she suffered Andrea's attentions in order to get rid of Morcerf; but when Andrea urged his suit, she betrayed an entire dislike to him. The baron might possibly have perceived it, but, attributing it to a caprice, feigned ignorance. 
The delay demanded by Beauchamp had nearly expired. Morcerf appreciated the advice of Monte Cristo to let things die away of their own accord. No one had taken up the remark about the general, and no one had recognized in the officer who betrayed the castle of Yanina the noble count in the House of Peers. Albert, however felt no less insulted; the few lines which had irritated him were certainly intended as an insult. Besides, the manner in which Beauchamp had closed the conference left a bitter recollection in his heart. He cherished the thought of the duel, hoping to conceal its true cause even from his seconds. Beauchamp had not been seen since the day he visited Albert, and those of whom the latter inquired always told him he was out on a journey which would detain him some days. Where he was no one knew. 
One morning Albert was awakened by his valet de chambre, who announced Beauchamp. Albert rubbed his eyes, ordered his servant to introduce him into the small smoking-room on the ground-floor, dressed himself quickly, and went down. He found Beauchamp pacing the room; on perceiving him Beauchamp stopped. "Your arrival here, without waiting my visit at your house to-day, looks well, sir," said Albert. "Tell me, may I shake hands with you, saying, 'Beauchamp, acknowledge you have injured me, and retain my friendship,' or must I simply propose to you a choice of arms?" 
"Albert," said Beauchamp, with a look of sorrow which stupefied the young man, "let us first sit down and talk." 
"Rather, sir, before we sit down, I must demand your answer." 
"Albert," said the journalist, "these are questions which it is difficult to answer." 
"I will facilitate it by repeating the question, 'Will you, or will you not, retract?'" 
"Morcerf, it is not enough to answer 'yes' or 'no' to questions which concern the honor, the social interest, and the life of such a man as Lieutenant-general the Count of Morcerf, peer of France." 
"What must then be done?" 
"What I have done, Albert. I reasoned thus--money, time, and fatigue are nothing compared with the reputation and interests of a whole family; probabilities will not suffice, only facts will justify a deadly combat with a friend. If I strike with the sword, or discharge the contents of a pistol at man with whom, for three years, I have been on terms of intimacy, I must, at least, know why I do so; I must meet him with a heart at ease, and that quiet conscience which a man needs when his own arm must save his life." 
"Well," said Morcerf, impatiently, "what does all this mean?" 
"It means that I have just returned from Yanina." 
"From Yanina?" 
"Yes." 
"Impossible!" 
"Here is my passport; examine the visa--Geneva, Milan, Venice, Trieste, Delvino, Yanina. Will you believe the government of a republic, a kingdom, and an empire?" Albert cast his eyes on the passport, then raised them in astonishment to Beauchamp. "You have been to Yanina?" said he. 
"Albert, had you been a stranger, a foreigner, a simple lord, like that Englishman who came to demand satisfaction three or four months since, and whom I killed to get rid of, I should not have taken this trouble; but I thought this mark of consideration due to you. I took a week to go, another to return, four days of quarantine, and forty-eight hours to stay there; that makes three weeks. I returned last night, and here I am." 
"What circumlocution! How long you are before you tell me what I most wish to know?" 
"Because, in truth, Albert"-- 
"You hesitate?" 
"Yes,--I fear." 
"You fear to acknowledge that your correspondent his deceived you? Oh, no self-love, Beauchamp. Acknowledge it, Beauchamp; your courage cannot be doubted." 
"Not so," murmured the journalist; "on the contrary"-- 
Albert turned frightfully pale; he endeavored to speak, but the words died on his lips. "My friend," said Beauchamp, in the most affectionate tone, "I should gladly make an apology; but, alas,"-- 
"But what?" 
"The paragraph was correct, my friend." 
"What? That French officer"-- 
"Yes." 
"Fernand?" 
"Yes." 
"The traitor who surrendered the castle of the man in whose service he was--" 
"Pardon me, my friend, that man was your father!" Albert advanced furiously towards Beauchamp, but the latter restrained him more by a mild look than by his extended hand. 
"My friend," said he, "here is a proof of it." 
Albert opened the paper, it was an attestation of four notable inhabitants of Yanina, proving that Colonel Fernand Mondego, in the service of Ali Tepelini, had surrendered the castle for two million crowns. The signatures were perfectly legal. Albert tottered and fell overpowered in a chair. It could no longer be doubted; the family name was fully given. After a moment's mournful silence, his heart overflowed, and he gave way to a flood of tears. Beauchamp, who had watched with sincere pity the young man's paroxysm of grief, approached him. "Now, Albert," said he, "you understand me--do you not? I wished to see all, and to judge of everything for myself, hoping the explanation would be in your father's favor, and that I might do him justice. But, on the contrary, the particulars which are given prove that Fernand Mondego, raised by Ali Pasha to the rank of governor-general, is no other than Count Fernand of Morcerf; then, recollecting the honor you had done me, in admitting me to your friendship, I hastened to you." 
Albert, still extended on the chair, covered his face with both hands, as if to prevent the light from reaching him. "I hastened to you," continued Beauchamp, "to tell you, Albert, that in this changing age, the faults of a father cannot revert upon his children. Few have passed through this revolutionary period, in the midst of which we were born, without some stain of infamy or blood to soil the uniform of the soldier, or the gown of the magistrate. Now I have these proofs, Albert, and I am in your confidence, no human power can force me to a duel which your own conscience would reproach you with as criminal, but I come to offer you what you can no longer demand of me. Do you wish these proofs, these attestations, which I alone possess, to be destroyed? Do you wish this frightful secret to remain with us? Confided to me, it shall never escape my lips; say, Albert, my friend, do you wish it?" 
Albert threw himself on Beauchamp's neck. "Ah, noble fellow!" cried he. 
"Take these," said Beauchamp, presenting the papers to Albert. 
Albert seized them with a convulsive hand, tore them in pieces, and trembling lest the least vestige should escape and one day appear to confront him, he approached the wax-light, always kept burning for cigars, and burned every fragment. "Dear, excellent friend," murmured Albert, still burning the papers. 
"Let all be forgotten as a sorrowful dream," said Beauchamp; "let it vanish as the last sparks from the blackened paper, and disappear as the smoke from those silent ashes." 
"Yes, yes," said Albert, "and may there remain only the eternal friendship which I promised to my deliverer, which shall be transmitted to our children's children, and shall always remind me that I owe my life and the honor of my name to you,--for had this been known, oh, Beauchamp, I should have destroyed myself; or,--no, my poor mother! I could not have killed her by the same blow,--I should have fled from my country." 
"Dear Albert," said Beauchamp. But this sudden and factitious joy soon forsook the young man, and was succeeded by a still greater grief. 
"Well," said Beauchamp, "what still oppresses you, my friend?" 
"I am broken-hearted," said Albert. "Listen, Beauchamp! I cannot thus, in a moment relinquish the respect, the confidence, and pride with which a father's untarnished name inspires a son. Oh, Beauchamp, Beauchamp, how shall I now approach mine? Shall I draw back my forehead from his embrace, or withhold my hand from his? I am the most wretched of men. Ah, my mother, my poor mother!" said Albert, gazing through his tears at his mother's portrait; "if you know this, how much must you suffer!" 
"Come," said Beauchamp, taking both his hands, "take courage, my friend." 
"But how came that first note to be inserted in your journal? Some unknown enemy--an invisible foe--has done this." 
"The more must you fortify yourself, Albert. Let no trace of emotion be visible on your countenance, bear your grief as the cloud bears within it ruin and death--a fatal secret, known only when the storm bursts. Go, my friend, reserve your strength for the moment when the crash shall come." 
"You think, then, all is not over yet?" said Albert, horror-stricken. 
"I think nothing, my friend; but all things are possible. By the way--" 
"What?" said Albert, seeing that Beauchamp hesitated. 
"Are you going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" 
"Why do you ask me now?" 
"Because the rupture or fulfilment of this engagement is connected with the person of whom we were speaking." 
"How?" said Albert, whose brow reddened; "you think M. Danglars"-- 
"I ask you only how your engagement stands? Pray put no construction on my words I do not mean they should convey, and give them no undue weight." 
"No." said Albert, "the engagement is broken off." 
"Well," said Beauchamp. Then, seeing the young man was about to relapse into melancholy, "Let us go out, Albert," said he; "a ride in the wood in the phaeton, or on horseback, will refresh you; we will then return to breakfast, and you shall attend to your affairs, and I to mine." 
"Willingly," said Albert; "but let us walk. I think a little exertion would do me good." The two friends walked out on the fortress. When arrived at the Madeleine,-- 
"Since we are out," said Beauchamp, "let us call on M. de Monte Cristo; he is admirably adapted to revive one's spirits, because he never interrogates, and in my opinion those who ask no questions are the best comforters." 
"Gladly," said Albert; "I love him--let us call."  
歹徒潜入伯爵府企图行窃这回事，是在此后的两星期内成了全巴黎的谈话中心。那个人在临死的时候曾签署了一份自白书，指控暗杀他的人是贝尼代托。警察局曾下令严紧搜查凶手。指控德罗斯的小刀、隐显灯、钥匙串和衣服都保藏在档案库里，只有他的背心找不到，尸体则已用车送到尸体陈列所里。伯爵每逢向人提及此事时，每次都说那次意外事件是他在阿都尔别墅的时候发生的，那天碰巧有位布沙尼神甫要求在他的家里过夜，在他的图书馆里查找几本珍贵的书籍，对这件事情他也是从布沙尼神甫那儿听来的。只有贝尔图乔一听人提到贝尼代托的名字就脸色发白，但谁都没有去注意他这种变化。维尔福因为曾被叫去为那件罪案作证，所以接受了这件案子，并以他处理一切刑事罪案时的热忱做着预审前准备工作。 
三个星期过去了，虽竭尽全力搜索仍未有成果，由于腾格拉尔小姐和安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵的婚期日渐接近，那次行窃的企图以及窃贼被他的同伴所杀的事几乎被人遗忘。 
婚期已宣布，青年人也已在那位银行家的府上被视作未来女婿。子爵曾写了几封信去征求他父亲卡瓦尔康蒂老先生的意见，老先生复信说他非常赞成这件婚事，但同时也感到遗憾，因为他那时不能离开巴马但，他同意拿出那笔每年可以产生十五万里弗利息的本金。这三百万本金，他已同意交给腾格拉尔去投资。有些人把那位银行家的近况告诉那青年人，说他这位未来岳父近来连遭损失；但那青年人不把金钱看在眼里，毫不理会这种种暗示，也从不向男爵提及那些话。男爵崇拜安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵，欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐却并不这样。由于天生憎恶结婚，她接受了安德烈的追求以求摆脱马尔塞夫；但当安德烈步步紧逼时，她不免也向他流露出一种明显的憎恶。男爵或许也觉察到她那种态度，但他认为这只是他女儿的怪僻，假装不知道。 
波尚要求宽延的时间快到了。马尔塞夫现在已觉察到伯爵劝他息事宁人那个忠告的价值。谁都不曾留心关于将军的那则消息，谁也不会认出那个出卖亚尼纳城的法国军官就是贵族院里那个高贵的伯爵。但是阿尔贝并不觉得他所受的侮辱已减轻，几乎使他感到愤怒的消息显然是一种故意的侮辱。 
此外，波尚结束上次会谈时的态度在他的心里留下了一个痛苦的回忆。所以他的头脑里依旧存着决斗的念头，并希望瞒住这次决斗的真原因，甚至瞒过他的陪证人。 
波尚自阿尔贝去拜访他以后，便再没有人见到过他，阿尔贝每次向人问到他时，人家总是回答他已旅行去了，要过些日子才能回来。但是他究竟到哪儿去，谁都不知道。直到一天早晨，阿尔贝的贴身跟班唤醒他，回报波尚来访。阿尔贝擦擦眼睛，吩咐仆人让波尚在楼下的小吸烟室里稍候，他很快地穿好衣服，走下楼去。他发现波尚在房间里踱来踱去，一看到他，波尚就停住了脚步。 
“阁下，您不等我今天到您府上去拜访，就先到我这儿来，看来是个好兆头，”阿尔贝说。“告诉我，究竟我应该和你握手，说，‘波尚，承认你曾经伤害我，恢复咱们的友谊’呢，还是我只要请你选择武器就够了？” 
“阿尔贝，”波尚带着一种使阿尔贝惶恐不安的忧郁神色说，“让我们先坐下来再谈吧。” 
“阁下，我倒宁愿在坐下来之前先知道你的答复。” 
“阿尔贝，”那新闻记者说，“客观环境使我难于作那个答复。” 
“我可以使你容易答复，方法是再重复一遍那个问题，‘你愿不愿意？” 
“马尔塞夫，当问题牵涉到法国贵族马尔塞夫中将伯爵的名誉、地位和生命的时候，仅仅回答是或否是不够的。” 
“那到底应该怎样办呢？” 
“就是照我的方法办，阿尔贝，我这样想：金钱、时间和疲劳，和一个家庭的名誉和利益来相比，是不值一提的。‘大概如此’这几个字还不够有力，只有确凿事实才能决定是否应该和一个朋友作一场致命的决斗。如果我把我的剑或手枪里的子弹对准一个三年来曾与我交往密切的朋友，我至少应该知道我为什么要那样做，我应该问心无愧去与他决斗，而当一个人必须用他自己的武器救自己生命的时候，是需要那种心理准备的。” 
“唉，”马尔塞夫不耐烦地说。“这一切究竟是什么意思？” 
“它的意思就是：我刚从亚尼纳回来。” 
“从亚尼纳来？” 
“是的。” 
“不可能的？” 
“这是我的护照，检查一下上面的签署吧，——日内瓦、米兰、威尼斯、的里雅斯特、德尔维纳和亚尼纳。你总该信任一个共和国、一个王国和一个帝国的警察局吧？” 
阿尔贝把他的眼光落到护照上，然后又惊愕地抬起头来望着波尚。“你到亚尼纳去过了？”他说。 
“阿尔贝，假若你是一个陌生人，一个外国人，一个象三四个月前来寻求赔礼道歉而被我杀掉的那个英国人那样头脑简单的贵族，我就不会找这种麻烦了，但我认为你应该重视这一切。我去就花一个星期的时间，回来一个星期，隔离检疫花了四天，在那儿逗留四十八小时，加起来正是三星期。我昨天晚上刚回来，而现在就在这儿了。” 
“不要再多罗嗦了！究竟你要多久才能告诉我最想知道的事情呢？” 
“因为，说真话，阿尔贝——” 
“你吞吞吐吐！” 
“是的，我怕。” 
“你怕承认你的记者欺骗了你？噢！丢开你的骄傲吧，波尚！承认了吧，波尚，别让你的勇敢让人怀疑。” 
“哦，不是那么回事，”那记者吞吞吐吐地说，“正巧相反——”阿尔贝的脸色变苍白起来，他竭力想说话，但却说不出一句话。 
“我的朋友，”波尚用最恳切的口气说，“我很高兴能向你道歉，但是，唉！——” 
“但是什么？” 
“那段消息是正确的，我的朋友。” 
“什么！那个法国军官——” 
“是的。” 
“那个弗尔南多？” 
“是的。” 
“那个卖城叛主的奸徒是——” 
“宽恕我，我的朋友，那个人就是你的父亲。” 
阿尔贝狂怒地向波尚冲过去，但波尚并不准备伸手反抗，只是用一种温和的目光制止了他。“别忙！我的朋友，’他一面说，一面从他的口袋里抽出一张文件来，“证据在这儿。” 
阿尔贝打开那张文件，那是亚尼纳四个德高望重的一份证明书，证明弗尔南多·蒙台哥在阿里·铁贝林手下服务的时候曾为两百万钱财去卖城投降。那四个名人的签字是经领事鉴定过的。阿尔贝脚步踉跄，四肢无力地跌落在一张椅子里。这是不能再怀疑的事实了，——家庭名誉全完了。短时间痛苦的沉默以后，他心口反涨了，眼泪禁不住直流起来。波尚怀着深深的同情怜悯注视着这悲痛欲绝的青年，走到他的身边。“阿尔贝，”他说，“你了解我了吧，是吗？我想亲眼看到一切，亲自判断一切，希望所得的结果能有利于你的父亲，希望我能为他主持公道。但相反的，事实证明那个被阿里总督提拔到督军职位的弗尔南多·蒙台哥不是别人，而正是弗尔南多·马尔塞夫伯爵，于是，想到我们那份真挚的友情，就赶快来见你了。” 
阿尔贝仍旧躺在椅子上，用双手遮住他的眼睛，象是要阻止光线照到他身上似的。 
“我赶到你这儿来，”波尚继续说，“告诉你，阿尔贝，在这个变动的年代里，一个父亲的过错是不能转移到他孩子身上的。我们是在战争时期中长大的，而凡是经过这次战争，很少能不在他军人的制服或法官的长袍上沾染到一些不名誉的污迹或血。现在我有了这些证据，阿尔贝，现在我已拥有了你的秘密，没有哪一个人再能强迫决斗，因为你的良心将遣责你，使你感到自己象是一个罪人，我却能给你你不再能向我要求的事。你愿意我所独有的这些证据，这些证明，书吗？你愿意这个可怕的秘密只有我们两个人知道吗？相信我，我决不对别人讲，说吧，阿尔贝，我的朋友，你愿意吗？” 
阿尔贝扑上去抱住波尚的脖子。“啊，多么高贵的心地呵！”他喊道。 
“拿了吧。”波尚说，他把那些文件递给阿尔贝。 
阿尔贝用一只颤抖的手抓过来，把它们撕得粉碎。他浑身发抖，恐怕撕碎的一小片将来再出现到他面前，他走到那支老是燃着准备点雪茄的蜡烛前面，把每一片碎纸都烧掉。 
“亲爱的好朋友！”他一面烧那些文件，一面轻轻地说。 
“忘掉这一切就象忘掉一个恶梦吧，”波尚说，“让它象那变黑的纸张上的最后的火花那样消失，象那从无声的灰烬上发出来的青烟那样飘散吧。” 
“是的，是的，”阿尔贝说，“只让永恒的友谊存在吧，我向我的救主答应那种友谊将在我们的子孙世世代代保存下去，并使我永远记得：我的生命和名誉都出于你的恩赐！因为，假如这件事被别人知道，噢！波尚呀，我就得毁灭我自己，或是——不，我可怜的母亲！我不能让她受这个致命的打击——我就得逃离我祖国了。” 
“可怜的阿尔贝！”波尚说。 
但这种突如其来和毫无意义的欢乐不久就离开了那个青年人，接着来的，是更大的忧伤。 
“嗯，波尚，”阿尔贝说，“听我说，波尚！我的父亲白璧无瑕般的声誉曾令我对他尊敬、信任和自豪，现在顷刻间要我抛弃这些感情，我是办不到的。噢，波尚，波尚呀！我现在该怎样对待我的父亲呢？我应该不接受他的拥抱，不让他吻我的额头，不与他握手吗？我是一个最痛苦的人了。啊，我的母亲，我可怜的母亲呀！”阿尔贝用满含热泪的双眼凝视着他母亲的画像说，“假如你知道了这回事，你将会多么痛苦啊！” 
“来，”波尚拉住他的双手说，“勇敢一点，我的朋友。” 
“但登在报纸上的那一条消息是怎样来的呢？在这一切的后面，显然有着一个不可知的冤家，一个不可见的敌人。” 
“所以你更应该早作准备，阿尔贝。你的脸上不要露出什么来，把你的悲哀全隐藏在心里，象暴风雨发作时才让人猜透这致命的秘密，去吧。” 
“看来，你以为这一切还不曾完结吗？”阿尔贝惊恐地说。 
“不是我以为，我的朋友，一切事情都是可能的。顺便问你一句——” 
“什么？”阿尔贝说，他看波尚有点犹豫。 
“你快要和腾格拉尔小姐结婚了吗？” 
“你为什么现在问我这个问题？” 
“因为在我看来，这个婚约的失败或成功，是与我们此刻所关注的事情有关的。” 
“怎么会呢？”阿尔贝说，他脸涨得通红，“你以为腾格拉尔先生——” 
“我只问你的婚约是否还有效？请不要猜想我的话所没有的意思，不要太看重我的话。” 
“不，”阿尔贝说，“那个婚约已吹了。” 
“好！”波尚说。然后，看到那青年人又快要变得抑郁起来，便说，“我们出去吧，阿尔贝，乘着轻便马车或骑马到树林里去兜一圈，可以调整一下你的情绪。我们回来再吃早餐，然后你去干你的事，我去干我的。” 
“同意，”阿尔贝说，“让我们散步去吧。我想，略微走动一下对我很有好处。” 
两位朋友走到马路上。当走到玛德伦大道时，波尚说，“既然我们出来了，就去拜访基督山先生吧，他最能振奋人的情绪，因为他从不追根问底，在我看来，那些不追根问底的人最能给人以安慰。” 
“我也认为如此，”阿尔贝说，“我爱他，我们去拜访他吧。” 
Chapter 85 The Journey
 MONTE CRISTO uttered a joyful exclamation on seeing the young men together. "Ah, ha!" said he, "I hope all is over, explained and settled." 
"Yes," said Beauchamp; "the absurd reports have died away, and should they be renewed, I would be the first to oppose them; so let us speak no more of it." 
"Albert will tell you," replied the count "that I gave him the same advice. Look," added he. "I am finishing the most execrable morning's work." 
"What is it?" said Albert; "arranging your papers, apparently." 
"My papers, thank God, no,--my papers are all in capital order, because I have none; but M. Cavalcanti's." 
"M. Cavalcanti's?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Yes; do you not know that this is a young man whom the count is introducing?" said Morcerf. 
"Let us not misunderstand each other," replied Monte Cristo; "I introduce my one, and certainly not M. Cavalcanti." 
"And who," said Albert with a forced smile, "is to marry Mademoiselle Danglars instead of me, which grieves me cruelly." 
"What? Cavalcanti is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Certainly; do you come from the end of the world?" said Monte Cristo; "you, a journalist, the husband of renown? It is the talk of all Paris." 
"And you, count, have made this match?" asked Beauchamp. 
"I? Silence, purveyor of gossip, do not spread that report. I make a match? No, you do not know me; I have done all in my power to oppose it." 
"Ah, I understand," said Beauchamp, "on our friend Albert's account." 
"On my account?" said the young man; "oh, no, indeed, the count will do me the justice to assert that I have, on the contrary, always entreated him to break off my engagement, and happily it is ended. The count pretends I have not him to thank;--so be it--I will erect an altar Deo ignoto." 
"Listen," said Monte Cristo; "I have had little to do with it, for I am at variance both with the father-in-law and the young man; there is only Mademoiselle Eugénie, who appears but little charmed with the thoughts of matrimony, and who, seeing how little I was disposed to persuade her to renounce her dear liberty, retains any affection for me." 
"And do you say this wedding is at hand?" 
"Oh, yes, in spite of all I could say. I do not know the young man; he is said to be of good family and rich, but I never trust to vague assertions. I have warned M. Danglars of it till I am tired, but he is fascinated with his Luccanese. I have even informed him of a circumstance I consider very serious; the young man was either charmed by his nurse, stolen by gypsies, or lost by his tutor, I scarcely know which. But I do know his father lost sight of him for more than ten years; what he did during these ten years, God only knows. Well, all that was useless. They have commissioned me to write to the major to demand papers, and here they are. I send them, but like Pilate--washing my hands." 
"And what does Mademoiselle d'Armilly say to you for robbing her of her pupil?" 
"Oh, well, I don't know; but I understand that she is going to Italy. Madame Danglars asked me for letters of recommendation for the impresari; I gave her a few lines for the director of the Valle Theatre, who is under some obligation to me. But what is the matter, Albert? you look dull; are you, after all, unconsciously in love with Mademoiselle Eugénie?" 
"I am not aware of it," said Albert, smiling sorrowfully. Beauchamp turned to look at some paintings. "But," continued Monte Cristo, "you are not in your usual spirits?" 
"I have a dreadful headache," said Albert. 
"Well, my dear viscount," said Monte Cristo, "I have an infallible remedy to propose to you." 
"What is that?" asked the young man. 
"A change." 
"Indeed?" said Albert. 
"Yes; and as I am just now excessively annoyed, I shall go from home. Shall we go together?" 
"You annoyed, count?" said Beauchamp; "and by what?" 
"Pardieu! you think very lightly of it; I should like to see you with a brief preparing in your house." 
"What brief?" 
"The one M. de Villefort is preparing against my amiable assassin--some brigand escaped from the gallows apparently." 
"True," said Beauchamp; "I saw it in the paper. Who is this Caderousse?" 
"Some provincial, it appears. M. de Villefort heard of him at Marseilles, and M. Danglars recollects having seen him. Consequently, the procureur is very active in the affair, and the prefect of police very much interested; and, thanks to that interest, for which I am very grateful, they send me all the robbers of Paris and the neighborhood, under pretence of their being Caderousse's murderers, so that in three months, if this continue, every robber and assassin in France will have the plan of my house at his fingers' end. I am resolved to desert them and go to some remote corner of the earth, and shall be happy if you will accompany me, viscount." 
"Willingly." 
"Then it is settled?" 
"Yes, but where?" 
"I have told you, where the air is pure, where every sound soothes, where one is sure to be humbled, however proud may be his nature. I love that humiliation, I, who am master of the universe, as was Augustus." 
"But where are you really going?" 
"To sea, viscount; you know I am a sailor. I was rocked when an infant in the arms of old ocean, and on the bosom of the beautiful Amphitrite; I have sported with the green mantle of the one and the azure robe of the other; I love the sea as a mistress, and pine if I do not often see her." 
"Let us go, count." 
"To sea?" 
"Yes." 
"You accept my proposal?" 
"I do." 
"Well, Viscount, there will be in my court-yard this evening a good travelling britzka, with four post-horses, in which one may rest as in a bed. M. Beauchamp, it holds four very well, will you accompany us?" 
"Thank you, I have just returned from sea." 
"What? you have been to sea?" 
"Yes; I have just made a little excursion to the Borromean Islands."* 
* Lake Maggiore. 
"What of that? come with us," said Albert. 
"No, dear Morcerf; you know I only refuse when the thing is impossible. Besides, it is important," added he in a low tone, "that I should remain in Paris just now to watch the paper." 
"Ah, you are a good and an excellent friend," said Albert; "yes, you are right; watch, watch, Beauchamp, and try to discover the enemy who made this disclosure." Albert and Beauchamp parted, the last pressure of their hands expressing what their tongues could not before a stranger. 
"Beauchamp is a worthy fellow," said Monte Cristo, when the journalist was gone; "is he not, Albert?" 
"Yes, and a sincere friend; I love him devotedly. But now we are alone,--although it is immaterial to me,--where are we going?" 
"Into Normandy, if you like." 
"Delightful; shall we be quite retired? have no society, no neighbors?" 
"Our companions will be riding-horses, dogs to hunt with, and a fishing-boat." 
"Exactly what I wish for; I will apprise my mother of my intention, and return to you." 
"But shall you be allowed to go into Normandy?" 
"I may go where I please." 
"Yes, I am aware you may go alone, since I once met you in Italy--but to accompany the mysterious Monte Cristo?" 
"You forget, count, that I have often told you of the deep interest my mother takes in you." 
"'Woman is fickle.' said Francis I.; 'woman is like a wave of the sea,' said Shakespeare; both the great king and the great poet ought to have known woman's nature well." 
"Woman's, yes; my mother is not woman, but a woman." 
"As I am only a humble foreigner, you must pardon me if I do not understand all the subtle refinements of your language." 
"What I mean to say is, that my mother is not quick to give her confidence, but when she does she never changes." 
"Ah, yes, indeed," said Monte Cristo with a sigh; "and do you think she is in the least interested in me?" 
"I repeat it, you must really be a very strange and superior man, for my mother is so absorbed by the interest you have excited, that when I am with her she speaks of no one else." 
"And does she try to make you dislike me?" 
"On the contrary, she often says, 'Morcerf, I believe the count has a noble nature; try to gain his esteem.'" 
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, sighing. 
"You see, then," said Albert, "that instead of opposing, she will encourage me." 
"Adieu, then, until five o'clock; be punctual, and we shall arrive at twelve or one." 
"At Tréport?" 
"Yes; or in the neighborhood." 
"But can we travel forty-eight leagues in eight hours?" 
"Easily," said Monte Cristo. 
"You are certainly a prodigy; you will soon not only surpass the railway, which would not be very difficult in France, but even the telegraph." 
"But, viscount, since we cannot perform the journey in less than seven or eight hours, do not keep me waiting." 
"Do not fear, I have little to prepare." Monte Cristo smiled as he nodded to Albert, then remained a moment absorbed in deep meditation. But passing his hand across his forehead as if to dispel his revery, he rang the bell twice and Bertuccio entered. "Bertuccio," said he, "I intend going this evening to Normandy, instead of to-morrow or the next day. You will have sufficient time before five o'clock; despatch a messenger to apprise the grooms at the first station. M. de Morcerf will accompany me." Bertuccio obeyed and despatched a courier to Pontoise to say the travelling-carriage would arrive at six o'clock. From Pontoise another express was sent to the next stage, and in six hours all the horses stationed on the road were ready. Before his departure, the count went to Haidée's apartments, told her his intention, and resigned everything to her care. Albert was punctual. The journey soon became interesting from its rapidity, of which Morcerf had formed no previous idea. "Truly," said Monte Cristo, "with your posthorses going at the rate of two leagues an hour, and that absurd law that one traveller shall not pass another without permission, so that an invalid or ill-tempered traveller may detain those who are well and active, it is impossible to move; I escape this annoyance by travelling with my own postilion and horses; do I not, Ali?" 
The count put his head out of the window and whistled, and the horses appeared to fly. The carriage rolled with a thundering noise over the pavement, and every one turned to notice the dazzling meteor. Ali, smiling, repeated the sound, grasped the reins with a firm hand, and spurred his horses, whose beautiful manes floated in the breeze. This child of the desert was in his element, and with his black face and sparkling eyes appeared, in the cloud of dust he raised, like the genius of the simoom and the god of the hurricane. "I never knew till now the delight of speed," said Morcerf, and the last cloud disappeared from his brow; "but where the devil do you get such horses? Are they made to order?" 
"Precisely," said the count; "six years since I bought a horse in Hungary remarkable for its swiftness. The thirty-two that we shall use to-night are its progeny; they are all entirely black, with the exception of a star upon the forehead." 
"That is perfectly admirable; but what do you do, count, with all these horses?" 
"You see, I travel with them." 
"But you are not always travelling." 
"When I no longer require them, Bertuccio will sell them, and he expects to realize thirty or forty thousand francs by the sale." 
"But no monarch in Europe will be wealthy enough to purchase them." 
"Then he will sell them to some Eastern vizier, who will empty his coffers to purchase them, and refill them by applying the bastinado to his subjects." 
"Count, may I suggest one idea to you?" 
"Certainly." 
"It is that, next to you, Bertuccio must be the richest gentleman in Europe." 
"You are mistaken, viscount; I believe he has not a franc in his possession." 
"Then he must be a wonder. My dear count, if you tell me many more marvellous things, I warn you I shall not believe them." 
"I countenance nothing that is marvellous, M. Albert. Tell me, why does a steward rob his master?" 
"Because, I suppose, it is his nature to do so, for the love of robbing." 
"You are mistaken; it is because he has a wife and family, and ambitious desires for himself and them. Also because he is not sure of always retaining his situation, and wishes to provide for the future. Now, M. Bertuccio is alone in the world; he uses my property without accounting for the use he makes of it; he is sure never to leave my service." 
"Why?" 
"Because I should never get a better." 
"Probabilities are deceptive." 
"But I deal in certainties; he is the best servant over whom one has the power of life and death." 
"Do you possess that right over Bertuccio?" 
"Yes." 
There are words which close a conversation with an iron door; such was the count's "yes." The whole journey was performed with equal rapidity; the thirty-two horses, dispersed over seven stages, brought them to their destination in eight hours. At midnight they arrived at the gate of a beautiful park. The porter was in attendance; he had been apprised by the groom of the last stage of the count's approach. At half past two in the morning Morcerf was conducted to his apartments, where a bath and supper were prepared. The servant who had travelled at the back of the carriage waited on him; Baptistin, who rode in front, attended the count. Albert bathed, took his supper, and went to bed. All night he was lulled by the melancholy noise of the surf. On rising, he went to his window, which opened on a terrace, having the sea in front, and at the back a pretty park bounded by a small forest. In a creek lay a little sloop, with a narrow keel and high masts, bearing on its flag the Monte Cristo arms which were a mountain on a sea azure, with a cross gules on the shield. Around the schooner lay a number of small fishing-boats belonging to the fishermen of the neighboring village, like humble subjects awaiting orders from their queen. There, as in every spot where Monte Cristo stopped, if but for two days, luxury abounded and life went on with the utmost ease. 
Albert found in his anteroom two guns, with all the accoutrements for hunting; a lofty room on the ground-floor containing all the ingenious instruments the English--eminent in piscatory pursuits, since they are patient and sluggish--have invented for fishing. The day passed in pursuing those exercises in which Monte Cristo excelled. They killed a dozen pheasants in the park, as many trout in the stream, dined in a summer-house overlooking the ocean, and took tea in the library. 
Towards the evening of the third day. Albert, completely exhausted with the exercise which invigorated Monte Cristo, was sleeping in an arm-chair near the window, while the count was designing with his architect the plan of a conservatory in his house, when the sound of a horse at full speed on the high road made Albert look up. He was disagreeably surprised to see his own valet de chambre, whom he had not brought, that he might not inconvenience Monte Cristo. 
"Florentin here!" cried he, starting up; "is my mother ill?" And he hastened to the door. Monte Cristo watched and saw him approach the valet, who drew a small sealed parcel from his pocket, containing a newspaper and a letter. "From whom is this?" said he eagerly. "From M. Beauchamp," replied Florentin. 
"Did he send you?" 
"Yes, sir; he sent for me to his house, gave me money for my journey, procured a horse, and made me promise not to stop till I had reached you, I have come in fifteen hours." 
Albert opened the letter with fear, uttered a shriek on reading the first line, and seized the paper. His sight was dimmed, his legs sank under him, and he would have fallen had not Florentin supported him. 
"Poor young man," said Monte Cristo in a low voice; "it is then true that the sin of the father shall fall on the children to the third and fourth generation." Meanwhile Albert had revived, and, continuing to read, he threw back his head, saying, "Florentin, is your horse fit to return immediately?" 
"It is a poor lame post-horse." 
"In what state was the house when you left?" 
"All was quiet, but on returning from M. Beauchamp's, I found madame in tears: she had sent for me to know when you would return. I told her my orders from M. Beauchamp; she first extended her arms to prevent me, but after a moment's reflection, 'Yes, go, Florentin,' said she, 'and may he come quickly.'" 
"Yes, my mother," said Albert, "I will return, and woe to the infamous wretch! But first of all I must get there." 
He went back to the room where he had left Monte Cristo. Five minutes had sufficed to make a complete transformation in his appearance. His voice had become rough and hoarse; his face was furrowed with wrinkles; his eyes burned under the blue-veined lids, and he tottered like a drunken man. "Count," said he, "I thank you for your hospitality, which I would gladly have enjoyed longer; but I must return to Paris." 
"What has happened?" 
"A great misfortune, more important to me than life. Don't question me, I beg of you, but lend me a horse." 
"My stables are at your command, viscount; but you will kill yourself by riding on horseback. Take a post-chaise or a carriage." 
"No, it would delay me, and I need the fatigue you warn me of; it will do me good." Albert reeled as if he had been shot, and fell on a chair near the door. Monte Cristo did not see this second manifestation of physical exhaustion; he was at the window, calling, "Ali, a horse for M. de Morcerf--quick! he is in a hurry!" These words restored Albert; he darted from the room, followed by the count. "Thank you!" cried he, throwing himself on his horse. "Return as soon as you can, Florentin. Must I use any password to procure a horse?" 
"Only dismount; another will be immediately saddled." Albert hesitated a moment. "You may think my departure strange and foolish," said the young man; "you do not know how a paragraph in a newspaper may exasperate one. Read that," said he, "when I am gone, that you may not be witness of my anger." 
While the count picked up the paper he put spurs to his horse, which leaped in astonishment at such an unusual stimulus, and shot away with the rapidity of an arrow. The count watched him with a feeling of compassion, and when he had completely disappeared, read as follows:-- 
"The French officer in the service of Ali Pasha of Yanina alluded to three weeks since in the Impartial, who not only surrendered the castle of Yanina, but sold his benefactor to the Turks, styled himself truly at that time Fernand, as our esteemed contemporary states; but he has since added to his Christian name a title of nobility and a family name. He now calls himself the Count of Morcerf, and ranks among the peers." 
Thus the terrible secret, which Beauchamp had so generously destroyed, appeared again like an armed phantom; and another paper, deriving its information from some malicious source, had published two days after Albert's departure for Normandy the few lines which had rendered the unfortunate young man almost crazy.  
基督山看见那两个青年人一同走来，便发出一声欣喜的喊叫。“呀，呀”他说，“我希望一切都已过去，都已澄清，妥当了结了吧。” 
“是的，”波尚说，“那种荒谬的报导已经不存在了。要是再有那种消息，我要第一个站出来反对，所以我们还是不要再谈它吧。” 
“阿尔贝会告诉您，”伯爵答道，“我也曾这样劝过他。瞧，” 
他又说，“我正在忙这件最可厌的早晨工作。” 
“那是什么？”阿尔贝说，“显然是在整理你的文件吧。” 
“我的文件，感谢上帝，不！我的文件早已被整理得十分清楚了，因为我一张都没有。这是卡瓦尔康蒂先生的。” 
“卡瓦尔康蒂先生的？”波尚问道。 
“是的，你不知道这是伯爵所引荐的一位青年吗？”马尔塞夫说。 
“我们大家不要误会，”基督山答道，“我没有引荐任何人，当然更没有介绍卡瓦尔康蒂先生。” 
“而他，”阿尔贝带着一个勉强的微笑继续说，“正要把我取而代之，与腾格拉尔小姐结婚？”基督山说。“您，一位新闻记者，大名鼎鼎的人物！这是全巴黎的谈话资料啦。” 
“而您，伯爵，是您促成的吗？”波尚问。 
“我？快别那样说，新闻记者阁下，别散布那个消息。我促成的！不，你难道不知我的为人！正巧相反，我曾尽我的全力反对那件婚事。” 
“啊！我懂了，”波尚说，“是为了我们的朋友阿尔贝。” 
“为了我？”阿尔贝说，“噢，不，真的！伯爵将为我主持公道，因为我一向在求他解除我的婚约，现在解决了，我很快乐。伯爵假装这一切不是他干的，是要我不要感谢他，就算如此吧，——我将象古人那样给一位不知名的神建立一个祭坛。” 
“听着，”基督山说，“这件事跟我没有什么关系，因为那岳父和那青年人和我都不十分投机，只有欧热妮小姐，——她对婚姻问题似乎毫无兴趣，——她，看到我无意劝她放弃她那宝贵的自由，才对我保持着一点好感。” 
“你不是说这件婚事快要举行了吗？” 
“哦，是的，我说的话不能有什么效用。我并不了解那青年人。据说他的出身很好，很有钱，但在我看来，这都是传闻罢了。我曾几次三番把这一点告诉腾格拉尔先生，直到我自己都听厌了，但他还是迷着他那位卢卡人。我甚至告诉他一种我认为非常严重的事实：那个青年人大概曾被他的保姆掉过包，或是被波希米亚人拐去过，或是被他的家庭教师丢失过，究竟属于哪一类，我也不十分知道，但我的确知道他的父亲曾有十年以上不曾见过他的面。他在那十年里面究竟做了些什么，上帝知道。嗯，那一切话也都没有用。他们要把我写信给少校，要求证明文件，现在证明文件也在这儿了。把这些文件送出去，我就象彼拉多［《圣经》传说：“流这义人的血，罪不在我，你们承当罢。”——译注］一样，洗手不管了。” 
“亚密莱小姐对你说了些什么话？”波尚问道，“你抢走了她的学生。” 
“什么！我不知道，但我知道她要到意大利去了。腾格拉尔夫人要求我写几封介绍信给意大利歌剧团，我写了张便笺给梵尔剧院的董事，因为我曾有恩于他。怎么啦，阿尔贝？您看来无精打采，难道您真正爱着欧热妮小姐吗？” 
  
  
“我自己也不知道。”阿尔贝带着一种忧愁的微笑说。 
“但是，”基督山继续说，“您不象往常那样有精神。来，有什么事？说说看！” 
“我头疼。”阿尔贝说。 
“唉，我亲爱的子爵，”基督山说，“我有一种万试万灵的药方向您推荐，——每当我有烦恼的时候，吃了这种药没有不成功的。” 
“是什么？” 
“真的？我现在也非常烦恼，要离开家去散散心。我们一同去好吗？” 
“你烦恼，伯爵？”波尚说，“为什么事？” 
“你把事情看得非常轻松，我倒很愿意看到在您府上也有一件诉讼案准备办理！” 
“什么诉讼案？” 
“就是维尔福先生在准备的那一件，他要提出公诉控告我那位可爱的刺客，——看上去象是监狱里逃出来的一个匪徒。” 
“不错，”波尚说，“我在报纸上看到过这回事。这个卡德鲁斯是谁？” 
“看来是一个乡下人。维尔福先生在马赛的时候曾听说过他，腾格拉尔也记得曾见过他。因此，检察官阁下对这件事非常关心，警察总监也极感兴趣。我当然非常感激，这一切但由于这种关切，他们把巴黎附近所有的窃贼都押到我这儿来。要辨认其中有无杀害卡德鲁斯的凶手。假如这样继续下去，不出三个月，法国的每一个窃贼和刺客都会把我家里的情形弄得了如指掌了。所以我决定离开他们，逃避到世界一个遥远的地方，我很高兴您能陪我一同去了，子爵。” 
“非常高兴。” 
“那就这样决定了？” 
“是的，但到哪儿去？” 
“我已经告诉您了，——到那空气清新，到那每一种声音都使人很平静，到那不论天性如何骄傲的人都会感到自己渺小和卑微的地方去。我喜欢那种虚怀若谷的情调，——尽管我曾象奥古斯都那样被人称为宇宙的主宰。” 
“但你究竟要到哪儿去？” 
“到海上去，子爵，到海上去。你知道我是一个水手。当我还是一个婴儿的时候，我便是在老海神的怀抱和那养丽的安费德丽蒂［希腊神话中海神之妻。——译注］的胸怀里长大的。我曾在老海神的绿色的袍子和后者的蔚兰的衣衫上嬉游，我爱海，把海当作我的情人，假如我长时间见不到她，便会感到苦恼。” 
“我们去吧，伯爵。” 
“到海上去？” 
“是的。” 
“您接受了我的建议？” 
“我接受了。” 
“好吧，子爵，今天晚上，我的院子里将有一辆用四匹驿马拉的旅行马车，那辆车子很好，人可以在里面象躺在床上一样休息。波尚先生，它可以容纳四个人，您能陪我们一起去吗？” 
“谢谢你，我刚从海上回来。” 
“什么？您到海上去过了？” 
“是的，我刚才到波罗米群岛去巡游了一番。” 
“那有什么关系？跟我们一起去吧。”阿尔贝说。 
“不，亲爱的马尔塞夫，你知道我只有对我不可能做到的事情才会托绝。而且，”他又低声说，“我现在应该留在巴黎注意报纸，这是很重要的。” 
“啊！你是一个好朋友，一个最最好的朋友，”阿尔贝说，“是的，你说得对，多留些神吧，细心注意着，波尚，设法查出究竟是哪一个敌人透露这个消息的。” 
阿尔贝与波尚分手了，他们分手时那紧紧的最后一握表达了他们在外人面前不能用语言表达的意思。 
“波尚是一个可敬的人，”那新闻记者走后，基督山说，“是不，阿尔贝？” 
“是的，而且是一个真诚的朋友，我非常爱他。现在只有我们两个人了，我虽然无所谓，但我们究竟是到哪儿去呢？” 
“假如您愿意的话，我们到诺曼底去。” 
“很有趣，我们能完全隐居人群吗？——没有社交、没有邻居吗？” 
“我们的伴侣将是供驰骋的马、供打猎的狗和一艘渔船。” 
“正合我的意思，我要把这通知家母，，再回到你这儿来。” 
“但您能被允许到诺曼底去吗？” 
“我喜欢到哪儿去就到哪儿去。” 
“是的，我知道您可以单独出门，因为有一次我在意大利遇到您——但陪伴那神秘的基督山同去呢？” 
“你忘啦，伯爵，我常常告诉你，家母对你非常关切。” 
“弗朗斯瓦一世［弗朗斯瓦一世（一四九四—一五四七），法国一五一五至一五四七年的国王。——译注］说，‘女人是易变的，’莎士比亚说，‘女人象是大海里的一个浪。’他们两位是一个伟大的国王，一位是一个伟大的诗人，他们二人都是应该知道女人的。” 
“是的，那是一般的女人，但家母不同于一般的女人，她是一个好女人。” 
“我的意思是：家母不轻易对人表现出关切，但一旦称赞了一个人，那便永不改变的了。” 
“啊，真的，”基督山说，叹息了一声，“而您以为她真的对我那样关心，并不是对我完全漠不关心吗？” 
“听着！我已经说过了，但是再说一遍，就是：你一定是一个非常神奇，非常卓越的人。” 
“哦！” 
“是的，因为家母对您的关切完全是出于同情，而不是出于好奇心。当我和她在一起的时候，她从没有谈论过别人。” 
“而她在竭力劝您不要信任我这个曼弗雷特是不是？” 
“正巧相反，她说：‘马尔塞夫，我想伯爵是一个生性高贵的人，尽力获得他的喜欢吧。’” 
基督山转过眼去，叹了一口气。“啊，真的？”他说。 
“在我看来，”阿尔贝说，“她非但不会反对我的旅行，而且将热心地赞成，因为这是与她每天叮嘱我的话相符的。” 
“那好，下午五点钟再会。请遵守时间，我们在夜里十二点钟或一点钟可以到了。” 
“到达的黎港吗？” 
“是的，或是在的黎港附近。” 
“但我们能在八小时之内走完一百四十四哩的路吗？” 
“容易得很。”基督山说。 
“你一定是一个奇迹创造者，不用多久，你不但将超过火车，——超过火车并不难，尤其是在法国，——而且甚至将超过急报了。” 
“子爵，既然我们要在七八个钟头以后才能起程，务请遵守时间。” 
“别怕，我除了准备以外没有别的事情了。” 
阿尔贝走了。基督山和阿尔贝点头道别的时候他还是面含微笑的，这时他陷入了沉思。然后，象是要驱散他这种恍惚状态似的，手抹一抹他的额头，拉了两下铃，贝尔图乔进来了。“贝尔图乔，”他说，“我本来说明天或后天到诺曼底去，但现在我准备今天就去。你在五点钟以前可以有充分的时间去准备。派一个人去通知第一站的马夫。马尔塞夫先生陪我一起去。去吧。” 
贝尔图乔遵命行事，派了一个跑差赶到蓬图瓦兹去传达旅行马车要求在六点钟到达的。蓬图瓦兹站另派一个专差去通知第二站，在六小时之内，路上的各处驿站都已准备好了。 
在起程以前，伯爵到海黛的房间里去，把他要出门的消息告诉她，托她照顾一切。 
阿尔贝很守时间。这次旅行最初似乎很乏味，但不久就由于速度的影响而有趣起来。马尔塞夫想不到跑得如此之快。 
“你们的驿马每小时只走六哩，”基督山说，“而且还有那荒谬的法律，规定非经前车旅客的允许后车不能超过，这样一个不中用的或坏脾气的旅客就阻挠一个生性活跃的旅客，在这样的限制之下，的确是寸步难行了。我用我自己的马夫和马逃避这种恼人的状况，不是吗，阿里？” 
伯爵伸头到窗外打了一个唿哨，那几匹马看来象是插上了翅膀。马车带着一种雷鸣似的喧闹声滚过街道；每一个人都转过头来注视这颗飞快而过而又耀目的流星。阿里面带微笑，连连吹着唿哨，用一只手紧紧地抓住缰绳，驰马奔腾，马的美丽鬃毛在迎风飘着。阿里这个沙漠之子这时最得意了，在他所掀起的阵阵尘雾中，他那黝黑的面孔和闪闪发光的眼睛使人想到风沙之精和飓风之神。 
“我到现在才知道由于速度而产生的快感，”马尔塞夫说，他额头上最后的一片阴霾也消失了。“但这些马你是怎么弄来的呢？是专门驯养的吗？” 
“一点不错，”伯爵说。“六年以前，我在匈牙利买进一匹以快速闻名的种马，——价钱多少我不知道，是贝尔图乔付钱买的。我们今天晚上用的三十二匹马都是它的后裔，它们都是全身漆黑，只有前额上有一颗白星。” 
“真神妙！但是，伯爵，你要这些马来做什么用呢？” 
“您看见啦，我用它们来旅行。” 
“但你也不是总旅行呀。” 
“当我不再需要它们的时候，贝尔图乔会把它们卖掉的，他预计可以卖到三四万法郎。” 
“欧洲的国王没有哪一个有那么多的钱来买。” 
“那末他可以卖给一个东方的大君，那个大君用他所有的钱来把它们买去，然后再回去敲榨他的人民，重新装满他的钱箱。” 
“伯爵，我可以向你提问一个问题吗？” 
“当然可以。” 
“除了你以外，贝尔图乔一定也是欧洲最有钱的人了。” 
“你错了，子爵，我相信假如您搜遍贝尔图乔的口袋，您不会找到十个铜板。” 
“那这样他一定是一个奇迹了。我亲爱的伯爵，假如你再告诉我这样神奇的事情，我就真的要不相信了。” 
“我从不讲神话，阿尔贝，告诉我，一个管家为什么要在他的主人身上揩油？” 
“我想，那是因为他的天性如此，天生爱揩油。” 
“您错啦，那是因为他有妻子和家庭，而他本人和他的家人都有难以满足的欲望。同时他也不能确定是否可以永远保持他的职位，希望能给自己找条后路。现在，贝尔图乔先生在这个世界上只有孤苦伶仃独自一个，他可以任意动用我的财产。他确信他决不会离开他的职务。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为我决不能再找到一个更好的人。” 
“你把假定当作既定，讲来讲去依旧是讲的可能性。” 
“噢，决不，我讲的是必然性。在你可以对他们操生死大权的仆人之中，他是最好的了。” 
“你对贝尔图乔有那种权力吗？” 
“有。”伯爵冷冷地回答。 
有些字句可以象一扇铁门似的截断一次谈话，伯爵的“有”便是这一类的字句。全部旅程以相等的速度完成，分成八段的那三十二匹马在八小时之内走完了一百四十四哩路。 
他们在午夜来到一个美丽的花园门前。看门人已经起身了，开着大门在等候，因为最后一站的马夫已来通知过他。清晨两点半钟，马尔塞夫被领进他的房间里，洗澡水和晚餐都已准备好了。站在马车后面的那个仆人侍候他；同来的巴浦斯订则侍候伯爵坐在马车前面。阿尔贝洗了澡，用了膳，然后上床。整夜，他是在苍凉的潮声中合眼。早晨起来，他走到窗前，打开窗子，走到一个小小阳台上；他的前面是海，是那浩瀚无垠一望无际的大海，在他的后面，是一个环绕在小树林里的美丽花园。在一条小溪里，停着一艘两舷狭而帆樯高耸的独船，桅顶上挂着一面旗，旗上绣有基督山的微章，那微章的图案是：在一片天蓝色的海上有一座金山，微章上部还有一个十字架，这显然是象征“基督山”这个名字，上帝使这座山变得比金山更值钱，同时它也象征着耶稣蒙难的髑髅地，红十字表示被耶稣的神圣的血所染红的十字架，或是象征着这个人的神秘的往事里的一段受苦和再生的经历。独桅船的四周停着几艘附近村庄里渔夫们的渔船，象是卑微的臣仆在等候他们女王的吩咐。这儿，象基督山逗留一两天的任何地点一样，一切都安排得舒适，日子过得很惬意。 
阿尔贝在他的小厅里找到两支枪，和其他一些打猎的工具。在楼下的另一个房间里，藏着英国人——英国人使用的种种巧妙的渔具，他们都是好渔夫，因为耐心——所以还不曾劝服因循度日的法国渔夫采用。时间就在打猎捕鱼中过去了，基督山的成绩非常突出，他们在林园里射死了一打野雉，在小溪里捉到同样多的鳟鱼，在一个可以俯瞰大海的阁楼里进餐，在书斋里用茶。 
到第三天傍晚，阿尔贝因为连日奔波，十分疲倦，躺在窗口附近的一张圈椅里睡觉，伯爵对那些运动只当作游戏，正在设计一个图纸，准备在他的家里造一间温室。这时，大路上一阵疾驰的马蹄声使阿尔贝抬起头来。他紧张地在院子里看到了他自己的贴身跟班，他并没有吩咐他跟来，恐惧使基督山感到不便。 
“弗劳兰丁来了！”他跳起来喊道。“是我的母亲病了吗？” 
他急急忙忙向门口奔去。基督山注视着他，他看到他走近那跟班，跟班从口袋里抽出一密封的小包，里面是一张报纸和一封信。“这是谁送来的？”他急切地说。 
“波尚先生。”弗劳兰丁回答。 
“是他派你来的吗？” 
“是，先生，他派人把我叫到他的家里去，给我旅费，弄到一匹马，叫我答应不见你不停下来。我在十五小时之内赶到了这里。” 
阿尔贝哆哆嗦嗦地拆开那封信，才读了几行，他就发出一声惊喊，浑身颤抖地抓住那份报纸张。突然地，他的眼睛变得黯然无神了，他的腿软了下去，要不是弗劳兰丁扶住他，他就要跌在地上了。 
“可怜的青年人，”基督山低声说，“俗话说，父亲的罪将连累到第三代和第四代的子孙，这句话看来是确实的了。” 
这时，阿尔贝已经醒过来，他把落在汗溶溶前额上的头发甩回去，继续阅读，然后双手把信和报纸压成一团，说：“弗劳兰丁，你的马还能立刻回去吗？” 
“你离开的时候家里情形怎么样？” 
“一切都很安静，但我从波尚先生那儿回去的时候，我发觉夫人在流泪。她派人叫我去，问您几时回来。我告诉她说，我要来找您了，是波尚先生差我来的，她最初想阻止我，但想了一会儿以后，她说：‘是的，去吧，弗劳兰丁，让他回来吧。’” 
“是的，我的母亲，”阿尔贝说，“我就回去了，叫那不要脸的混蛋等着瞧吧！但我必须先去告辞一声——” 
他回到刚才离开基督山的那个房间。他已不再是刚才那个人了，在五分钟的时间里已他有了一个可怕的变化。他出去的时候一切如常，回来却带来了一种颤抖声音，一种狂乱的神色，一种气势汹汹的目光和一种踉跄的脚步。“伯爵，”他说，“我感谢你的盛情款待，也很乐意能多享受些，但我现在必须回到巴黎去了。” 
“发生了什么事？” 
“一件很不幸的事，在我看来比生命更重要的事情。别问我，我求求你；请您借给我一匹马。” 
“我的马厩任您选用，子爵，但骑马回去会累跨您的。乘驿车或骄车吧。” 
“不，那会耽误我的时间，而且我需要经受您怕我累跨的那种疲劳，它对我很有好处。” 
阿尔贝走了几步，象一个中了一颗枪弹的似地一仰身，倒入房门一张附近的椅子里。基督山并没有看到他这第二次虚脱，他正站在窗口喊：“阿里，给马尔塞夫先生备一匹马！他急着要走！” 
这几句话振作了阿尔贝的精神，他跑出房间，伯爵跟在后面。“谢谢你！”他跃上马背，喊道。“你也赶快回来，弗劳兰丁。路上换马还需要说什么话吗？” 
“只要您从所骑的马背上跳下来，便立刻会有另外一匹马备好了。” 
阿尔贝迟疑了一会儿。“你也许会以为我这次告辞奇特而愚蠢，”但“你不知道报纸上几行字会使一个人陷入绝望。好吧，”他把那张报纸摔下来给他，又说，“念一念吧，但等我走了以后才念，免得你看见我气得发疯。” 
当伯爵拾起那张报纸的时候，阿尔贝用马刺踢了他的马肚子一下，马象一支箭似地疾驰而去。伯爵带着一种无限怜悯感情望着他，当人影完全消先的时候，他读道：—— 
“三星期前，《大公报》曾讽示亚尼纳总督阿里手下服务的法国军官以亚尼纳堡拱手让敌，并出卖他的恩主给土耳其人的消息；那个法国军官当时确自称为弗尔南多，但此后他已在他的教名上加了一个贵族的衔头和一个姓氏。他现在自称为马尔塞夫伯爵，并在贵族院里占着一个座位。” 
这个被波尚大度地掩盖起来的可怕的秘密，就这样又象一个张牙舞爪的怪物似的出现了；在阿尔贝起程到诺曼底去的两天以后，竟有人残酷地去通知另一家报馆，发表了这几行几乎可使阿尔贝发疯的消息。 
Chapter 86 The Trial
 AT EIGHT o'clock in the morning Albert had arrived at Beauchamp's door. The valet de chambre had received orders to usher him in at once. Beauchamp was in his bath. "Here I am," said Albert. 
"Well, my poor friend," replied Beauchamp, "I expected you." 
"I need not say I think you are too faithful and too kind to have spoken of that painful circumstance. Your having sent for me is another proof of your affection. So, without losing time, tell me, have you the slightest idea whence this terrible blow proceeds?" 
"I think I have some clew." 
"But first tell me all the particulars of this shameful plot." Beauchamp proceeded to relate to the young man, who was overwhelmed with shame and grief, the following facts. Two days previously, the article had appeared in another paper besides the Impartial, and, what was more serious, one that was well known as a government paper. Beauchamp was breakfasting when he read the paragraph. He sent immediately for a cabriolet, and hastened to the publisher's office. Although professing diametrically opposite principles from those of the editor of the other paper, Beauchamp--as it sometimes, we may say often, happens--was his intimate friend. The editor was reading, with apparent delight, a leading article in the same paper on beet-sugar, probably a composition of his own. 
"Ah, pardieu," said Beauchamp, "with the paper in your hand, my friend, I need not tell you the cause of my visit." 
"Are you interested in the sugar question?" asked the editor of the ministerial paper. 
"No," replied Beauchamp, "I have not considered the question; a totally different subject interests me." 
"What is it?" 
"The article relative to Morcerf." 
"Indeed? Is it not a curious affair?" 
"So curious, that I think you are running a great risk of a prosecution for defamation of character." 
"Not at all; we have received with the information all the requisite proofs, and we are quite sure M. de Morcerf will not raise his voice against us; besides, it is rendering a service to one's country to denounce these wretched criminals who are unworthy of the honor bestowed on them." Beauchamp was thunderstruck. "Who, then, has so correctly informed you?" asked he; "for my paper, which gave the first information on the subject, has been obliged to stop for want of proof; and yet we are more interested than you in exposing M. de Morcerf, as he is a peer of France, and we are of the opposition." 
"Oh, that is very simple; we have not sought to scandalize. This news was brought to us. A man arrived yesterday from Yanina, bringing a formidable array of documents; and when we hesitated to publish the accusatory article, he told us it should be inserted in some other paper." 
Beauchamp understood that nothing remained but to submit, and left the office to despatch a courier to Morcerf. But he had been unable to send to Albert the following particulars, as the events had transpired after the messenger's departure; namely, that the same day a great agitation was manifest in the House of Peers among the usually calm members of that dignified assembly. Every one had arrived almost before the usual hour, and was conversing on the melancholy event which was to attract the attention of the public towards one of their most illustrious colleagues. Some were perusing the article, others making comments and recalling circumstances which substantiated the charges still more. The Count of Morcerf was no favorite with his colleagues. Like all upstarts, he had had recourse to a great deal of haughtiness to maintain his position. The true nobility laughed at him, the talented repelled him, and the honorable instinctively despised him. He was, in fact, in the unhappy position of the victim marked for sacrifice; the finger of God once pointed at him, every one was prepared to raise the hue and cry. 
The Count of Morcerf alone was ignorant of the news. He did not take in the paper containing the defamatory article, and had passed the morning in writing letters and in trying a horse. He arrived at his usual hour, with a proud look and insolent demeanor; he alighted, passed through the corridors, and entered the house without observing the hesitation of the door-keepers or the coolness of his colleagues. Business had already been going on for half an hour when he entered. Every one held the accusing paper, but, as usual, no one liked to take upon himself the responsibility of the attack. At length an honorable peer, Morcerf's acknowledged enemy, ascended the tribune with that solemnity which announced that the expected moment had arrived. There was an impressive silence; Morcerf alone knew not why such profound attention was given to an orator who was not always listened to with so much complacency. The count did not notice the introduction, in which the speaker announced that his communication would be of that vital importance that it demanded the undivided attention of the House; but at the mention of Yanina and Colonel Fernand, he turned so frightfully pale that every member shuddered and fixed his eyes upon him. Moral wounds have this peculiarity,--they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart. 
The article having been read during the painful hush that followed, a universal shudder pervaded the assembly. and immediately the closest attention was given to the orator as he resumed his remarks. He stated his scruples and the difficulties of the case; it was the honor of M. de Morcerf, and that of the whole House, he proposed to defend, by provoking a debate on personal questions, which are always such painful themes of discussion. He concluded by calling for an investigation, which might dispose of the calumnious report before it had time to spread, and restore M. de Morcerf to the position he had long held in public opinion. Morcerf was so completely overwhelmed by this great and unexpected calamity that he could scarcely stammer a few words as he looked around on the assembly. This timidity, which might proceed from the astonishment of innocence as well as the shame of guilt, conciliated some in his favor; for men who are truly generous are always ready to compassionate when the misfortune of their enemy surpasses the limits of their hatred. 
The president put it to the vote, and it was decided that the investigation should take place. The count was asked what time he required to prepare his defence. Morcerf's courage had revived when he found himself alive after this horrible blow. "My lords," answered he, "it is not by time I could repel the attack made on me by enemies unknown to me, and, doubtless, hidden in obscurity; it is immediately, and by a thunderbolt, that I must repel the flash of lightning which, for a moment, startled me. Oh, that I could, instead of taking up this defence, shed my last drop of blood to prove to my noble colleagues that I am their equal in worth." These words made a favorable impression on behalf of the accused. "I demand, then, that the examination shall take place as soon as possible, and I will furnish the house with all necessary information." 
"What day do you fix?" asked the president. 
"To-day I am at your service," replied the count. The president rang the bell. "Does the House approve that the examination should take place to-day?" 
"Yes," was the unanimous answer. 
A committee of twelve members was chosen to examine the proofs brought forward by Morcerf. The investigation would begin at eight o'clock that evening in the committee-room, and if postponement were necessary, the proceedings would be resumed each evening at the same hour. Morcerf asked leave to retire; he had to collect the documents he had long been preparing against this storm, which his sagacity had foreseen. 
Albert listened, trembling now with hope, then with anger, and then again with shame, for from Beauchamp's confidence he knew his father was guilty, and he asked himself how, since he was guilty, he could prove his innocence. Beauchamp hesitated to continue his narrative. "What next?" asked Albert. 
"What next? My friend, you impose a painful task on me. Must you know all?" 
"Absolutely; and rather from your lips than another's." 
"Muster up all your courage, then, for never have you required it more." Albert passed his hand over his forehead, as if to try his strength, as a man who is preparing to defend his life proves his shield and bends his sword. He thought himself strong enough, for he mistook fever for energy. "Go on," said he. 
"The evening arrived; all Paris was in expectation. Many said your father had only to show himself to crush the charge against him; many others said he would not appear; while some asserted that they had seen him start for Brussels; and others went to the police-office to inquire if he had taken out a passport. I used all my influence with one of the committee, a young peer of my acquaintance, to get admission to one of the galleries. He called for me at seven o'clock, and, before any one had arrived, asked one of the door-keepers to place me in a box. I was concealed by a column, and might witness the whole of the terrible scene which was about to take place. At eight o'clock all were in their places, and M. de Morcerf entered at the last stroke. He held some papers in his hand; his countenance was calm, and his step firm, and he was dressed with great care in his military uniform, which was buttoned completely up to the chin. His presence produced a good effect. The committee was made up of Liberals, several of whom came forward to shake hands with him." 
Albert felt his heart bursting at these particulars, but gratitude mingled with his sorrow: he would gladly have embraced those who had given his father this proof of esteem at a moment when his honor was so powerfully attacked. "At this moment one of the door-keepers brought in a letter for the president. 'You are at liberty to speak, M. de Morcerf,' said the president, as he unsealed the letter; and the count began his defence, I assure you, Albert, in a most eloquent and skilful manner. He produced documents proving that the Vizier of Yanina had up to the last moment honored him with his entire confidence, since he had interested him with a negotiation of life and death with the emperor. He produced the ring, his mark of authority, with which Ali Pasha generally sealed his letters, and which the latter had given him, that he might, on his return at any hour of the day or night, gain access to the presence, even in the harem. Unfortunately, the negotiation failed, and when he returned to defend his benefactor, he was dead. 'But,' said the count, 'so great was Ali Pasha's confidence, that on his death-bed he resigned his favorite mistress and her daughter to my care.'" Albert started on hearing these words; the history of Haidée recurred to him, and he remembered what she had said of that message and the ring, and the manner in which she had been sold and made a slave. "And what effect did this discourse produce?" anxiously inquired Albert. "I acknowledge it affected me, and, indeed, all the committee also," said Beauchamp. 
"Meanwhile, the president carelessly opened the letter which had been brought to him; but the first lines aroused his attention; he read them again and again, and fixing his eyes on M. de Morcerf, 'Count,' said he, 'you have said that the Vizier of Yanina confided his wife and daughter to your care?'--'Yes, sir,' replied Morcerf; 'but in that, like all the rest, misfortune pursued me. On my return, Vasiliki and her daughter Haidée had disappeared.'--'Did you know them?'--'My intimacy with the pasha and his unlimited confidence had gained me an introduction to them, and I had seen them above twenty times.' 
"'Have you any idea what became of them?'--'Yes, sir; I heard they had fallen victims to their sorrow, and, perhaps, to their poverty. I was not rich; my life was in constant danger; I could not seek them, to my great regret.' The president frowned imperceptibly. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'you have heard the Comte de Morcerf's defence. Can you, sir, produce any witnesses to the truth of what you have asserted?'--'Alas, no, monsieur,' replied the count; 'all those who surrounded the vizier, or who knew me at his court, are either dead or gone away, I know not where. I believe that I alone, of all my countrymen, survived that dreadful war. I have only the letters of Ali Tepelini, which I have placed before you; the ring, a token of his good-will, which is here; and, lastly, the most convincing proof I can offer, after an anonymous attack, and that is the absence of any witness against my veracity and the purity of my military life.' A murmur of approbation ran through the assembly; and at this moment, Albert, had nothing more transpired, your father's cause had been gained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the president resumed: 'Gentlemen and you, monsieur,--you will not be displeased, I presume, to listen to one who calls himself a very important witness, and who has just presented himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove the perfect innocence of our colleague. Here is a letter I have just received on the subject; shall it be read, or shall it be passed over? and shall we take no notice of this incident?' M. de Morcerf turned pale, and clinched his hands on the papers he held. The committee decided to hear the letter; the count was thoughtful and silent. The president read:-- 
"'MR. PRESIDENT,--I can furnish the committee of inquiry into the conduct of the Lieutenant-General the Count of Morcerf in Epirus and in Macedonia with important particulars.' 
"The president paused, and the count turned pale. The president looked at his auditors. 'Proceed,' was heard on all sides. The president resumed:-- 
"'I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pasha. I was present during his last moments. I know what is become of Vasiliki and Haidée. I am at the command of the committee, and even claim the honor of being heard. I shall be in the lobby when this note is delivered to you.' 
"'And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?' asked the count, in a tone in which there was a visible alteration. 'We shall know, sir,' replied the president. 'Is the committee willing to hear this witness?'--'Yes, yes,' they all said at once. The door-keeper was called. 'Is there any one in the lobby?' said the president. 
"'Yes, sir.'--'Who is it?'--'A woman, accompanied by a servant.' Every one looked at his neighbor. 'Bring her in,' said the president. Five minutes after the door-keeper again appeared; all eyes were fixed on the door, and I," said Beauchamp, "shared the general expectation and anxiety. Behind the door-keeper walked a woman enveloped in a large veil, which completely concealed her. It was evident, from her figure and the perfumes she had about her, that she was young and fastidious in her tastes, but that was all. The president requested her to throw aside her veil, and it was then seen that she was dressed in the Grecian costume, and was remarkably beautiful." 
"Ah," said Albert, "it was she." 
"Who?" 
"Haidée." 
"Who told you that?" 
"Alas, I guess it. But go on, Beauchamp. You see I am calm and strong. And yet we must be drawing near the disclosure." 
"M. de Morcerf," continued Beauchamp, "looked at this woman with surprise and terror. Her lips were about to pass his sentence of life or death. To the committee the adventure was so extraordinary and curious, that the interest they had felt for the count's safety became now quite a secondary matter. The president himself advanced to place a seat for the young lady; but she declined availing herself of it. As for the count, he had fallen on his chair; it was evident that his legs refused to support him. 
"'Madame,' said the president, 'you have engaged to furnish the committee with some important particulars respecting the affair at Yanina, and you have stated that you were an eyewitness of the event.'--'I was, indeed,' said the stranger, with a tone of sweet melancholy, and with the sonorous voice peculiar to the East. 
"'But allow me to say that you must have been very young then.'--'I was four years old; but as those events deeply concerned me, not a single detail has escaped my memory.'--'In what manner could these events concern you? and who are you, that they should have made so deep an impression on you?'--'On them depended my father's life,' replied she. 'I am Haidée, the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and of Vasiliki, his beloved wife.' 
"The blush of mingled pride and modesty which suddenly suffused the cheeks of the young woman, the brilliancy of her eye, and her highly important communication, produced an indescribable effect on the assembly. As for the count, he could not have been more overwhelmed if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet and opened an immense gulf before him. 'Madame,' replied the president, bowing with profound respect, 'allow me to ask one question; it shall be the last: Can you prove the authenticity of what you have now stated?'--'I can, sir,' said Haidée, drawing from under her veil a satin satchel highly perfumed; 'for here is the register of my birth, signed by my father and his principal officers, and that of my baptism, my father having consented to my being brought up in my mother's faith,--this latter has been sealed by the grand primate of Macedonia and Epirus; and lastly (and perhaps the most important), the record of the sale of my person and that of my mother to the Armenian merchant El-Kobbir, by the French officer, who, in his infamous bargain with the Porte, had reserved as his part of the booty the wife and daughter of his benefactor, whom he sold for the sum of four hundred thousand francs.' A greenish pallor spread over the count's cheeks, and his eyes became bloodshot at these terrible imputations, which were listened to by the assembly with ominous silence. 
"Haidée, still calm, but with a calmness more dreadful than the anger of another would have been, handed to the president the record of her sale, written in Arabic. It had been supposed some of the papers might be in the Arabian, Romaic, or Turkish language, and the interpreter of the House was in attendance. One of the noble peers, who was familiar with the Arabic language, having studied it during the famous Egyptian campaign, followed with his eye as the translator read aloud:-- 
"'I, El-Kobbir, a slave-merchant, and purveyor of the harem of his highness, acknowledge having received for transmission to the sublime emperor, from the French lord, the Count of Monte Cristo, an emerald valued at eight hundred thousand francs; as the ransom of a young Christian slave of eleven years of age, named Haidée, the acknowledged daughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and of Vasiliki, his favorite; she having been sold to me seven years previously, with her mother, who had died on arriving at Constantinople, by a French colonel in the service of the Vizier Ali Tepelini, named Fernand Mondego. The above-mentioned purchase was made on his highness's account, whose mandate I had, for the sum of four hundred thousand francs. 
"'Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in the year 1247 of the Hegira. 
"'Signed EL-KOBBIR.' 
"'That this record should have all due authority, it shall bear the imperial seal, which the vendor is bound to have affixed to it.' 
"Near the merchant's signature there was, indeed, the seal of the sublime emperor. A dreadful silence followed the reading of this document; the count could only stare, and his gaze, fixed as if unconsciously on Haidée, seemed one of fire and blood. 'Madame,' said the president, 'may reference be made to the Count of Monte Cristo, who is now, I believe, in Paris?'--'Sir,' replied Haidée, 'the Count of Monte Cristo, my foster-father, has been in Normandy the last three days.' 
"'Who, then, has counselled you to take this step, one for which the court is deeply indebted to you, and which is perfectly natural, considering your birth and your misfortunes?'--'Sir,' replied Haidée, 'I have been led to take this step from a feeling of respect and grief. Although a Christian, may God forgive me, I have always sought to revenge my illustrious father. Since I set my foot in France, and knew the traitor lived in Paris, I have watched carefully. I live retired in the house of my noble protector, but I do it from choice. I love retirement and silence, because I can live with my thoughts and recollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo surrounds me with every paternal care, and I am ignorant of nothing which passes in the world. I learn all in the silence of my apartments,--for instance, I see all the newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece of music; and by thus watching the course of the life of others, I learned what had transpired this morning in the House of Peers, and what was to take place this evening; then I wrote.' 
"'Then,' remarked the president, 'the Count of Monte Cristo knows nothing of your present proceedings?'--'He is quite unaware of them, and I have but one fear, which is that he should disapprove of what I have done. But it is a glorious day for me,' continued the young girl, raising her ardent gaze to heaven, 'that on which I find at last an opportunity of avenging my father!' 
"The count had not uttered one word the whole of this time. His colleagues looked at him, and doubtless pitied his prospects, blighted under the perfumed breath of a woman. His misery was depicted in sinister lines on his countenance. 'M. de Morcerf,' said the president, 'do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina?'--'No,' said Morcerf, attempting to rise, 'it is a base plot, contrived by my enemies.' Haidée, whose eyes had been fixed on the door, as if expecting some one, turned hastily, and, seeing the count standing, shrieked, 'You do not know me?' said she. 'Well, I fortunately recognize you! You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer who led the troops of my noble father! It is you who surrendered the castle of Yanina! It is you who, sent by him to Constantinople, to treat with the emperor for the life or death of your benefactor, brought back a false mandate granting full pardon! It is you who, with that mandate, obtained the pasha's ring, which gave you authority over Selim, the fire-keeper! It is you who stabbed Selim. It is you who sold us, my mother and me, to the merchant, El-Kobbir! Assassin, assassin, assassin, you have still on your brow your master's blood! Look, gentlemen, all!' 
"These words had been pronounced with such enthusiasm and evident truth, that every eye was fixed on the count's forehead, and he himself passed his hand across it, as if he felt Ali's blood still lingering there. 'You positively recognize M. de Morcerf as the officer, Fernand Mondego?'--'Indeed I do!' cried Haidée. 'Oh, my mother, it was you who said, "You were free, you had a beloved father, you were destined to be almost a queen. Look well at that man; it is he who raised your father's head on the point of a spear; it is he who sold us; it is he who forsook us! Look well at his right hand, on which he has a large wound; if you forgot his features, you would know him by that hand, into which fell, one by one, the gold pieces of the merchant El-Kobbir!" I know him! Ah, let him say now if he does not recognize me!' Each word fell like a dagger on Morcerf, and deprived him of a portion of his energy; as she uttered the last, he hid his mutilated hand hastily in his bosom, and fell back on his seat, overwhelmed by wretchedness and despair. This scene completely changed the opinion of the assembly respecting the accused count. 
"'Count of Morcerf,' said the president, 'do not allow yourself to be cast down; answer. The justice of the court is supreme and impartial as that of God; it will not suffer you to be trampled on by your enemies without giving you an opportunity of defending yourself. Shall further inquiries be made? Shall two members of the House be sent to Yanina? Speak!' Morcerf did not reply. Then all the members looked at each other with terror. They knew the count's energetic and violent temper; it must be, indeed, a dreadful blow which would deprive him of courage to defend himself. They expected that his stupefied silence would be followed by a fiery outburst. 'Well,' asked the president, 'what is your decision?' 
"'I have no reply to make,' said the count in a low tone. 
"'Has the daughter of Ali Tepelini spoken the truth?' said the president. 'Is she, then, the terrible witness to whose charge you dare not plead "Not guilty"? Have you really committed the crimes of which you are accused?' The count looked around him with an expression which might have softened tigers, but which could not disarm his judges. Then he raised his eyes towards the ceiling, but withdrew then, immediately, as if he feared the roof would open and reveal to his distressed view that second tribunal called heaven, and that other judge named God. Then, with a hasty movement, he tore open his coat, which seemed to stifle him, and flew from the room like a madman; his footstep was heard one moment in the corridor, then the rattling of his carriage-wheels as he was driven rapidly away. 'Gentlemen,' said the president, when silence was restored, 'is the Count of Morcerf convicted of felony, treason, and conduct unbecoming a member of this House?'--'Yes,' replied all the members of the committee of inquiry with a unanimous voice. 
"Haidée had remained until the close of the meeting. She heard the count's sentence pronounced without betraying an expression of joy or pity; then drawing her veil over her face she bowed majestically to the councillors, and left with that dignified step which Virgil attributes to his goddesses."  
早晨八点钟，阿尔贝象一个霹雳似的落到波尚的门前。仆人早已受到吩咐，领他到他主人的寝室里，主人正在洗澡。 
“怎么样？”阿尔贝说。 
“怎么样？我可怜的朋友，？波尚答道，“我正在等待你。” 
“我一到就过来了。不用告诉我，波尚，我相信你是守信义讲交情的，决不会向任何人谈及那件事，——不会的，我的朋友。而且，你派人来找我，就是你关心我的一个最好的证明。所以，不要浪费时间了，告诉我吧，你能不能猜到这个可怕的打击是从哪儿来的？” 
“我可以立刻用两个字告诉你。” 
“但先把这个可耻阴谋的一切细节讲给我听吧。” 
波尚于是向那被羞辱和痛苦折磨着的青年开始叙述下面这些事实：两天以前，那则消息在另一家报纸——并不是在《大公报》上——出现，而更严重的是，那家报纸是大家都知道的政府机关报。波尚读到那段新闻的时候正在用早膳，他立刻派人叫了一辆轻便马车，不等吃完早餐，就赶到报馆去。 
波尚的主张虽然与那家报纸的编辑正好相反，可是他们倒是亲密的朋友，这原是常有的事。那位编辑正在津津有味地读报上一篇论甜菜问题文章，那篇文章大概是他自己写的。 
“啊，真好！”波尚说，“既然你手里拿着报纸，我的朋友，我就不必告诉你我这次拜访的原因。” 
“难道你也关心食糖问题了吗？”那家政府报纸的编辑问道。 
“不，”波尚回答，“对这个问题，我完全是个外行，我所关心的是一个性质完全不同的问题。” 
“什么问题？” 
“那篇关于马尔塞夫的文章。” 
“真的！那不是一件怪事吗？” 
“我认为你冒着很大的危险，因为很有可能被控为破坏名誉罪。” 
“决不会的，我们除了那则消息以外，还同时拿到一切必需的证据，我们确信马尔塞夫先生不会向我们抗议。此外，把那些不值得享受国家所赐尊荣的奸恶歹徒揭露出来，也算是报效祖国。” 
波尚犹如五雷轰顶，“那末，是谁来这样正式地通知你的呢？”他问道。“这件事情是我的报纸先发动的，但由于证据不足，不得不停止刊载，其实对揭露马尔塞夫先生这件事，更感兴趣的应该是我们，因为他是法国贵族院的一个议员，而我们是反对派。” 
“噢！这是非常简单的，那则诽谤消息不是我们去找来的，而是它自己上门来的。昨天一个从从亚尼纳来的人，带来了那些可怕的东西，当我们对于发表那篇告发性的文章表示犹豫时，他对我们说，假如我们拒绝，那篇文章就会在别家报纸上出现。” 
  
  
波尚知道除了忍气吞声以外再没有别的办法，就离开报馆派人去找马尔塞夫。但他却不能把下面这些事情通知阿尔贝，因为这些事情是信差离开以后才发生的：那天，一向冷清的贵族院里也显出了很大的骚动。每一个人都比往常到得早，纷纷谈论着这不祥的事情，因为这件事会使大众的注意力全都集中到他们这个显赫机构里的一个最著名的议员。有些人在细读那则消息，有些人在发表议论，追述附和这种攻击的往事。伯爵与他的同僚们并不融洽。象一切暴发户一样，他以前经常装出一种过份的骄傲以维持他的地位。老贵族嘲笑他；才智之士排斥他；德高望重的人本能地厌恶他。伯爵陷入了祭坛上的牺牲品似的惨境。一旦被上帝的手指为牺牲品，每一个人便都要攻击他了。 
只有马尔塞夫伯爵不知道当日所发生的事情。他没有看到那份登载诽谤消息的报纸，以写信和骑马度过了早晨的时光。所以他在往常的时间到达议会，仍带着一种骄横的神色和傲慢的态度：他下车，经过走廊，进入议院，并没有注意到听差的迟疑和他同僚的冷淡。会议在他到达半小时前就已经开始了。虽然伯爵的神态和举止都未改变，——我们已经说过，他对于当日的事情毫不知情，——但在旁人看来，他的态度和举止似乎比往常更显得傲慢不逊；他的出席被视作对议会的一种挑衅，以致全体议员都为议院的尊严受到侮辱而深感愤怒；有些人认为这是一种失礼；有些人认为这是一种目中无人；有些人则认为是一种侮辱。整个议院虽然都急于想开始辩论；但象往常一样，谁都不愿意担起为难的责任。 
最后，一个令人尊敬的议员，马尔塞夫的知名敌人，带着庄严的神色跨上讲台。这表示预期的时间已经到了，议院里顿时鸦雀无声；只有马尔塞夫不知道这个一向并不如此受重视的演讲者会受到这样重视的原因。发言者宣称他有非常重要的消息要报告，要求全场一致注意，伯爵对这一段开场白并未予以特别注意；但当听到亚尼纳和弗尔南多上校的时候，他的脸色就变得那令人可怕地苍白，以致每一个议员都打了一个寒颤，所有眼光都集中到他身上。精神上的创伤就有这种特性，——它可以被掩盖起来，但却决不会收口；它是永远痛苦的，被触及就会流血，永远鲜血淋漓地留在心头。 
他的演说在鸦雀无声的会场里进行下去，只偶尔被一阵阵叹息声所打断，当他继续讲下去时，全场又肃静下来，他讲到他为这件事感到不安，查明这件案子，任务相当艰巨。他之所以要引起一场私人问题的辩论，是为了要保全马尔塞夫先生的个人名誉和整个议院的名誉。他的结论是要求立即进行一次审查，以使谣传尽快被挫败，不令其散布出去，借此恢复马尔塞夫先生在舆论界所长期建立的地位。 
这个意想不到的横祸是这样的打倒了马尔塞夫，以致当他带着一种迷惑不解的表情环顾全场的时候，他简直说不出一句话来，这种胆怯的表情既可以看做是无辜者过分受惊，也可以说是自愧有罪者的表现，这种态度为他赢得了一部分同情，——因为真正宽厚仁义的人当见到他们敌人的不幸超过他们仇恨的范围时，总是会发生同情的。主席把这件事付诸表决，结果决定应该进行审查。主席问伯爵需要多少时间来准备他的辩护。马尔塞夫发现在经受这个可怕的打击以后居然还活着，他的勇气便恢复了。“诸位勋爵，”他答说，“对于这由敌人暗中指使的攻击，是不能靠时间来反击的，我必须立刻用一个霹雳来答复那曾暂时使我吓了一跳的闪电。噢！我不但能辩护，而且将流近我最后的一滴血，向我高贵的同僚们证明我无愧于与他们为伍！”这番话使人产生了一种对被告有利的印象。“所以，我要求审查应该尽可能赶快举行，我应当把一切必需的资料提供给院方参考。” 
“您指定哪一天？”主席问。 
“从今天起，我悉听院方处置。”伯爵回答。 
主席摇了摇铃。“是否全体同意今天就举行审查？” 
“同意！”全场一致回答。 
议院选出了一个十二人委员会来审查马尔塞夫所提出的证据。审查委员会决定当天晚上八点在小组会议室里开会：如果有必要继续，每天晚上在同样时间开会。马尔塞夫要求退席，他得去搜集那些他早就准备着以便应付这种风波的证据，他的机警使他预料到这种风暴的可能性。 
波尚把我们现在所叙述的这一切事情详详细细地讲给那阿尔贝听；他的叙述当然更比我们富于生气，因为当时事件正在演变中，而现在则已事过境迁。阿尔贝浑身都在颤抖着，有时抱着希望，有时愤怒，有时又羞愧，——因为凭他对波尚的信任，他知道他的父亲是有罪的；而他自问，既然他是有罪的，他又如何能证明他的无辜。波尚迟疑着不再叙述下去。 
“以后呢？”阿尔贝问。 
“以后？我的朋友，你给了我一件痛苦的工作了。你一定要全部知道吗？” 
“绝对要，与其从别人的嘴里知道，还不如从你的嘴里知道的好。” 
“那末，请你做好精神准备，因为这是需要勇气的时候了。” 
阿尔贝伸手摸一摸自己的额头，象是在证明自己的精力，象一个人在准备防卫他生命的时候试一试他的盾和弯一弯他的剑一样。他以为自己很强壮，因为他把自己的激动情绪误认作力量了。“讲下去。”他说。 
“那天晚上，”波尚继续说，“全巴黎在等待消息。许多人说，只有你的父亲出面才能使指控不攻自破，许多人说他不会出席，有些人斩钉截铁地说，他们亲眼看见他动身到布鲁塞尔去了，也有人到警察局去查问他有没有去领护照。我认识一个年轻的贵族，他也是审查委员之一，我竭力恳求他给我一个旁听的机会。他在七点钟的时候来找我，在趁开会的人还没来，要求一个听差把我藏在一间边厢里。我躲在一根圆柱后面，希望能全部目击这一切。八点正，大家都已到齐了，马尔塞夫先生在时钟敲到最后一下的时候走了进来。他的手里拿着一些文件，看上去脸色平静，脚步坚定，衣服漂亮而不浮华。根据老军人的习惯，他的上装一直扣到颈下。他的出场产生了一个良好的效果。审查委员会是由中立人士组成的，其中有几个上前来与他握手。” 
阿尔贝在听这些事情的时候，觉得他的心快要爆炸了，但在他的忧伤之中混杂着感情。他很愿意能拥抱一下那些在他父亲的名誉受到这样一些攻击的时候还能给他这种敬意的人。 
“这时，一个听差拿了一封信来交给主席。‘您可以发言了，马尔塞夫先生，’主席一面说，一面拆开那封信，于是伯爵开始为自己辩护起来。我敢向你保证，阿尔贝，他的辩护是最雄辩和最有技巧的。拿出文件证明亚尼纳总督到最后一刻是对他全部信任的，因为他曾要派他去和土耳其皇帝作一次生死攸关的谈判。他拿出那只戒指，这是阿里总督的权威的像征，他常常用这只戒指来作为他的信物，阿里总督给他这只戒指的用意，就是为了当他回来的时候，不论日夜，不论任何时间，可以凭此直接去见他，甚至到他的寝室去见他。不幸的是，他说，那次谈判失败了，而当他回来保卫他的恩主的时候，他已经死了。‘但是，’伯爵说，‘阿里总督对我是这样的信任，甚至在他临死的时候，他还把他的宠妾和他的女儿托我照顾。’” 
阿尔贝听到这几句话，不觉吃了一惊。他想起海黛的身世来了，他还记得她讲述那个使者和那只戒指时所说的话，以及她被出卖和变成一个奴隶的经过。“这一段话产生了什么影响呢？”阿尔贝急切地问。 
“我承认这段话感动了我，也的确感动了全体委员，”波尚说。“这时，主席漫不经心地阅读那封送来的信，开头那几行就引起了他的注意。他把那几行读了读，然后眼睛盯住马尔塞夫先生。‘伯爵阁下，’他说，‘您说亚尼纳总督曾把他的妻女托付给了你照顾？’‘是的，阁下，’马尔塞夫答道，‘但在那件事情上，象在其他一切事情上一样，不幸总追赶着我，当我回去的时候，凡瑟丽姬和她的女儿海黛已失踪了。’‘你认识她们吗？’‘我和总督的密切关系以及他对我的忠诚的无限信任使我见过她们二十多次。’‘您知道她们后来的下落吗？’‘是的，阁下，我听说她们已很忧伤，或许是沦为贫穷的牺牲品。我并不富有，我的生命经常在危险中。我不能去寻找她们，这是我非常遗憾的。’主席让人难以觉察地皱了皱眉头。‘诸位，’他说，‘你们已听到马尔塞夫伯爵阁下的解释了。伯爵阁下，您能提供出证人来证实您所说的话吗？’‘唉！不能，阁下，’伯爵答道，总督周围的人物，或是朝廷里认识我的人，不是过世就是走散了。我相信，在我的同胞人之中，只有我一个人经历了那场可怕的战争还依旧活着。我只有阿里·铁贝林的信件，现在已经呈交在您面前了，随那只作为信物的戒指，也在这儿了。最后，我所能提供的最有力的证据，就是：在一次匿名的攻击以后，并没有一个证人可以站出来否定我是一个正直和诚实的人以及一个纯洁的军人。全场发出一阵低低赞许声。这时，阿尔贝，假如再没有别的事情发生，只要经过最后一次表决，你的父亲便可以胜利了。但主席又说：‘诸位，还有您，伯爵阁下，我想，你们大概不会反对听取一个自称为非常重要的证人的证词。这个证人是他自己找上门来的，而在听了伯爵刚才的一番话以后，我们知道他是为证明我们这位同僚是无辜而来的。这封刚才收到的信就是关于那件事的。我们是否应该把它读一读呢，还是应该把它搁在一边，只当没有那回事？’马尔塞夫先生的脸色变得苍白了，抓住文件的那只手紧紧地捏成了拳头。委员会决定听一听那封信的内容，伯爵默不出声，装出沉思的样子。主席读道：‘主席阁下：我能向审查委员会提供非常确实的资料来证实马尔塞夫中将伯爵在伊皮鲁斯和马其顿的行为。’主席顿了一顿，伯爵的脸更苍白了。主席望了一眼他的听众们。‘念下去。’四面八方都是这样说。主席继续道：‘阿里总督临终的时候我也在场；我亲眼看到他临终时的情形，我知道凡瑟丽姬和海黛的结果。我可以悉听委员会的吩咐，甚至要求赐我作证的光荣。当这封信交到您手里的时候，我已在外厅等候了。’“‘这个证人，或说得更准确些，这个敌人究竟是谁呢？’伯爵问道，他的语气明显地改变了。‘我们就要知道的，阁下，’主席答道，‘委员会愿意听这位证人的陈述吗？’‘要听，要听。’他们都同时说。主席把听差叫来，问他：‘外厅里有没有人！’‘有的，先生。’‘是什么人？’‘一个女人，有一个仆人陪着。’每一个人都面面相觑。‘领那个女人来。’主席说。五分钟以后，听差又出现了。所有的眼睛都盯住了门口，包括我，”波尚说，“也跟大家一样的期望和焦急。在听差的后面，走进来一位遮着一张大面纱的女人。那张面纱完全遮住了她的脸，但从她的身材和她身上的香气判断，她显然是一个年轻而高雅的女人。主席要求她揭开面纱，到那时，大家才看到她穿着希腊人的装束，而且极其美丽。” 
“啊！”阿尔贝说，“这是她。” 
“她？谁？” 
“海黛。” 
“谁告诉你的？” 
“唉！我知道了。说下去吧，波尚。你看得出我很镇定坚强，我们一定很快就可以知道真相的。” 
“马尔塞夫先生惊奇而恐怖地望着这个女人。”波尚继续说。“她说出来的话将要关系他的生或死了。全体委员觉得这个插曲是这样的离奇，以致他们现在把伯爵的安危问题看作了次要的事情。主席亲自端了一把椅子给那青年女子，但她并没有坐下。至于伯爵，他早已经跌倒在他的椅子里了，显然他的两腿已经支持不住了。 
“‘夫人，’主席说，‘您自称能向委员会提供关于亚尼纳事件的资料，并声称您是亲眼目击那些事件的证人。’‘我的确是的！’那陌生女子用一种甜蜜而抑郁的口气和那种专门属于东方人的悦耳的声音说。‘请允许我说，您那时一定还非常年幼吧。’我那时才四岁，但因为那些事情和我有密切的关系，所以没有一件事情会逃出我的记忆。’‘那些事情跟您是怎样的关系呢？你是谁，怎么会对那些事情有这样深刻的印象呢？’‘那些事情关系着我父亲的生死，’她答道。‘我是海黛，是亚尼纳总督阿里·铁贝林和他的爱妻凡瑟丽姬的女儿。’“交杂着骄傲和谦逊的红晕顿时涨满了那位青年女子的两颊，再加上她那明亮的眼睛和她那充满尊严的一段话，在全场上产生了一种难以形容的影响。至于伯爵，即使一个霹雳打在他的脚下和深裂开在他的面前，也不能使他更惶惑了。‘夫人，’是主席非常恭敬地鞠了一躬说道，‘允许我提出一个问题，——这是最后的一个问题了：您能证明您现在所说的这一番话的真实性吗？’‘我能的，阁下，’海黛说，从她的面纱底下摸出一只异香扑鼻的小包来，‘这儿是我的出生证明书，是我父亲亲笔写并且由他的高级官吏签署的，还有我的受洗证书，因为我的父亲同意我可以信我母亲的宗教。这张受洗证上有马其顿和伊皮鲁斯大主教的签署。最后——而这无疑地是最主要的——，还有那个法国军官把我和我的母亲卖给亚美尼亚奴隶商艾尔考柏的卖身文契，那个法国军官在他与土耳其政府的无耻的交易中，竟把他恩主的妻子和女儿作为他的一部分战利品，把她们卖了，得到四十万法郎。’全场在一种可怕的寂静中倾听这一番惊心动魄的谴责，伯爵的两颊泛出青白色，他的眼睛充满了血丝。海黛依旧很镇定，但这宁静却比别人的愤怒更可怕，她把那张用阿拉伯文写的卖身契交给主席。在这些证件之中，有些大概是用阿拉伯文、罗马文或土耳其文写的，因为议院的译员已被传唤了上去。有一个议员曾在伟大的埃及战争中研究过阿拉伯语，在他的监视之下，那译员高声读道： 
“我，艾尔考柏，一个奴隶商人，皇帝陛下的纳妃使者，承认代皇帝陛下从自由贵族基督山伯爵手里收到一颗价值二千袋钱中的绿宝石，作为一个十一岁的幼年基督徒奴隶的赎金。这个奴隶名叫海黛，是故亚尼纳总督阿里·铁贝林勋爵及其宠妾凡瑟丽姬的女儿。她是七年以前和她的母亲一起卖给我的，但她的母亲在到达君士坦丁堡的时候即已去世。原售是一个代阿里·铁贝林总督手下服务的法国上校，名叫弗尔南多·蒙台哥。上述的交易由我代表皇帝陛下付出一千袋钱币。本约已经皇帝陛下批准，地点君士坦丁堡，时间回教纪元一二四七年——签字艾尔考柏。‘此约应办齐一切批准手续，应由售主备盖皇帝御玺。’“在那奴隶贩子的签字旁边，的确有土耳其大皇帝的御玺的印记。这个文件读完以后，会议室内接着就陷入一种可怕的沉默里。伯爵完全楞住了。他那象是下意识地盯住海黛的眼睛已经变成了一团火与血。‘夫人，’主席说，‘我们能向基督山伯爵去调查一下吗？我相信他现在也在巴黎吧。’‘阁下，’海黛答道，‘我的再生之父基督山伯爵在三天以前已到诺曼底去了。’那样是谁建议采取这个步骤的呢？——当然罗，对于您这个步骤本庭深表感谢，而且，对于您的身世和您的不幸遭遇来说，这原是十分自然的。’‘阁下，’海黛回答，‘这个步骤是我的自尊心和我的悲哀促使我采取的。相信上帝宽恕我，虽然我是一个基督徒，但我却老是想为我那英名显赫的父亲复仇。自从我来到法国，并且知道那叛徒住在巴黎以来，我就时时小心地注意着。我隐居在我那高贵的保护人家里，但这是我自愿的。我喜欢静居和寂寞，因为我能靠我的思想和我对过去的日子的回忆生活。基督山伯爵象慈父般地对我爱护备至，我对于外界的事情无所不知，虽然我是在我的卧室里观看这一切。比方说，我看每一种报纸、每一种期刊和每一个新歌剧。就在这样注视旁人生活的时候，我知道了今天早晨贵族院里所发生的事情，以及今天晚上将要发生的事情，于是我就写了那封信。’‘那末，’主席说，‘基督山伯爵对于您现在的行为毫不知情的吗？’‘他完全不知道，我只怕一件事，就是怕他会不赞成我现在所做的一切。但今天是我感到最高兴的一天，’那女郎用那火热的眼睛凝视着天空，继续说，‘今天，我终于找到一个机会来为我的父亲复仇了！’” 
“在这期间，伯爵没有出过一次声，说过一句话。他的同僚们望着他，对他那被一个女人的芬芳的气息所打破的好景感到有些怜悯。他脸上那种阴险的皱纹勾勒出了他的痛苦。‘马尔塞夫阁下，’主席说，‘你认识这位太太吗？她是不是亚尼纳总督阿里·铁贝林的女儿？’‘不，’马尔塞夫说，他挣扎着站起来，‘这是一个卑鄙的阴谋，是我的敌人设计出来的。’海黛本来用眼睛盯住门口，象是在期待着一个人进来似的，这时急忙转过头来，看到伯爵站在那儿，便发出一声恐怖的喊叫。‘你不认识我？’她说。‘哼，幸亏我还认识你！你是弗尔南多·蒙台哥，那个指挥我那高贵父亲部下军队的法国军官！是你出卖了亚尼纳堡！是你受命到君士坦相堡去和土耳其皇帝谈判关系到你恩主的生死问题而带回来一个假造的赦免状！是你骗取总督戒指去获得了守火者西立姆的信任！是你刺杀了西立姆！是你把我们，我的母亲和我，出卖给奴隶贩子艾尔考柏！凶手！凶手！凶手！你的额头上还沾着你主子的血呢。看，诸位，大家看！’“这些话产生了巨大的说服力，每一双眼睛都盯着伯爵的额头上。他自己竟也用手去抹了一抹，好象自己也觉得阿里的血依旧还粘在上面似的。‘您确实认定马尔塞夫先生就是那个军官弗尔南多·蒙台哥吗？’‘我确实认得！’海黛喊道。‘噢，我的母亲呀！曾经告诉我说：“你本来是自由的，你有一个疼爱你的爹爹，你本来可以成为一个皇后。仔细看清楚那个人。是他使你变成了一个奴隶，是他把你父亲的头颅挑在枪尖上，是他出卖了我们，是他把我们交给那个奴隶贩子！仔细看看他的右手，那只手上有一个大伤疤，假如你忘记了他的面貌，你一看那只手就可以认识他，奴隶贩子艾尔考柏的金洋便是一块一块地落到那只带有伤疤的手里！“我认不认识他？啊！现在让他说说看，他怎么能说不认识我！’每一个字都象一把匕首似的插入马尔塞夫的心，每一个字都推毁他的一部分精力。当她说出最后那一句话的时候，他急忙把他的手藏在胸怀里（他的手上的确有一个大伤疤），满脸绝望地跌回到他的座位上，这情景改变了全场对伯爵的意见。‘马尔塞夫伯爵阁下，’主席说，‘您就难道被压倒了吗？答辩吧。本庭大公无私，并且具有最高的权力，就象上帝的法庭一样，本庭决不能使你横受敌人的践踏而不给您一个反抗的机会。要不要再继续进行调查？要不要派两位议员到亚尼纳去？说呀！’马尔塞夫不回答。于是全体议员都带着一种惊恐的表情面面相觑。他们知道伯爵的脾气暴戾强横。必须是一个致命的打击才能剥夺他反抗的勇气。他们以为这个沉默象是一次暴风雨的前兆，预示将接着出现一个霹雳似的惊醒。‘唉’主席问道，‘您决定怎么样？’‘我没有话回答。’伯爵站起来低声说。‘那末，阿里·铁贝林的女儿所说的都是实情吗？’主席说。‘看来，她是一个有利的证人，甚至使您不敢再说“无罪”吗？您真的犯了所控的那些罪吗？’伯爵环顾四周，他那种万般绝望的表情就是老虎看了也会心软，但却不能感动他的法官。于是，他抬头看天花板，但立刻又收回那种眼光，象是怕那屋顶裂开，使他痛苦地看到那被称为天庭的另一个法庭和那名叫上帝的另一位法官似的。于是，他以急促的动作撕开那件似乎要使他快要窒息的上衣，象一个可悲的疯子似的冲出房间。他的脚步声在走廊里响了一阵，然后他的马车隆隆地响起急速离开的声音。‘诸位，’当房间里恢复肃静的时候，主席说，‘马尔塞夫伯爵阁下是犯了叛逆罪和暴行迫害罪吗？’‘是的。’审查委员会的全体委员异口同声地回答。 
“海黛一直等候到结束。当她听到宣判的时候，她并未露出十分高兴或怜悯的表情，然后，她用面纱遮住面孔，庄严地向委员们鞠了一躬，迈着象女神般庄严的步伐离开了会场。” 
Chapter 87 The Challenge
 "THEN," continued Beauchamp, "I took advantage of the silence and the darkness to leave the house without being seen. The usher who had introduced me was waiting for me at the door, and he conducted me through the corridors to a private entrance opening into the Rue de Vaugirard. I left with mingled feelings of sorrow and delight. Excuse me, Albert,--sorrow on your account, and delight with that noble girl, thus pursuing paternal vengeance. Yes, Albert, from whatever source the blow may have proceeded--it may be from an enemy, but that enemy is only the agent of providence." 
Albert held his head between his hands; he raised his face, red with shame and bathed in tears, and seizing Beauchamp's arm, "My friend," said he, "my life is ended. I cannot calmly say with you, 'Providence has struck the blow;' but I must discover who pursues me with this hatred, and when I have found him I shall kill him, or he will kill me. I rely on your friendship to assist me, Beauchamp, if contempt has not banished it from your heart." 
"Contempt, my friend? How does this misfortune affect you? No, happily that unjust prejudice is forgotten which made the son responsible for the father's actions. Review your life, Albert; although it is only just beginning, did a lovely summer's day ever dawn with greater purity than has marked the commencement of your career? No, Albert, take my advice. You are young and rich--leave Paris--all is soon forgotten in this great Babylon of excitement and changing tastes. You will return after three or four years with a Russian princess for a bride, and no one will think more of what occurred yesterday than if it had happened sixteen years ago." 
"Thank you, my dear Beauchamp, thank you for the excellent feeling which prompts your advice; but it cannot be. I have told you my wish, or rather my determination. You understand that, interested as I am in this affair, I cannot see it in the same light as you do. What appears to you to emanate from a celestial source, seems to me to proceed from one far less pure. Providence appears to me to have no share in this affair; and happily so, for instead of the invisible, impalpable agent of celestial rewards and punishments, I shall find one both palpable and visible, on whom I shall revenge myself, I assure you, for all I have suffered during the last month. Now, I repeat, Beauchamp, I wish to return to human and material existence, and if you are still the friend you profess to be, help me to discover the hand that struck the blow." 
"Be it so," said Beauchamp; "if you must have me descend to earth, I submit; and if you will seek your enemy, I will assist you, and I will engage to find him, my honor being almost as deeply interested as yours." 
"Well, then, you understand, Beauchamp, that we begin our search immediately. Each moment's delay is an eternity for me. The calumniator is not yet punished, and he may hope that he will not be; but, on my honor, it he thinks so, he deceives himself." 
"Well, listen, Morcerf." 
"Ah, Beauchamp, I see you know something already; you will restore me to life." 
"I do not say there is any truth in what I am going to tell you, but it is, at least, a ray of light in a dark night; by following it we may, perhaps, discover something more certain." 
"Tell me; satisfy my impatience." 
"Well, I will tell you what I did not like to mention on my return from Yanina." 
"Say on." 
"I went, of course, to the chief banker of the town to make inquiries. At the first word, before I had even mentioned your father's name"-- 
"'Ah,' said he. 'I guess what brings you here.' 
"'How, and why?' 
"'Because a fortnight since I was questioned on the same subject.' 
"'By whom?'--'By a Paris banker, my correspondent.' 
"'Whose name is'-- 
"'Danglars.'" 
"He!" cried Albert; "yes, it is indeed he who has so long pursued my father with jealous hatred. He, the man who would be popular, cannot forgive the Count of Morcerf for being created a peer; and this marriage broken off without a reason being assigned--yes, it is all from the same cause." 
"Make inquiries, Albert, but do not be angry without reason; make inquiries, and if it be true"-- 
"Oh, yes, if it be true," cried the young man, "he shall pay me all I have suffered." 
"Beware, Morcerf, he is already an old man." 
"I will respect his age as he has respected the honor of my family; if my father had offended him, why did he not attack him personally? Oh, no, he was afraid to encounter him face to face." 
"I do not condemn you, Albert; I only restrain you. Act prudently." 
"Oh, do not fear; besides, you will accompany me. Beauchamp, solemn transactions should be sanctioned by a witness. Before this day closes, if M. Danglars is guilty, he shall cease to live, or I shall die. Pardieu! Beauchamp, mine shall be a splendid funeral!" 
"When such resolutions are made, Albert, they should be promptly executed. Do you wish to go to M. Danglars? Let us go immediately." They sent for a cabriolet. On entering the banker's mansion, they perceived the phaeton and servant of M. Andrea Cavalcanti. "Ah, parbleu, that's good," said Albert, with a gloomy tone. "If M. Danglars will not fight with me, I will kill his son-in-law; Cavalcanti will certainly fight." The servant announced the young man; but the banker, recollecting what had transpired the day before, did not wish him admitted. It was, however, too late; Albert had followed the footman, and, hearing the order given, forced the door open, and followed by Beauchamp found himself in the banker's study. "Sir," cried the latter, "am I no longer at liberty to receive whom I choose in my house? You appear to forget yourself sadly." 
"No, sir," said Albert, coldly; "there are circumstances in which one cannot, except through cowardice,--I offer you that refuge,--refuse to admit certain persons at least." 
"What is your errand, then, with me, sir?" 
"I mean," said Albert, drawing near, and without apparently noticing Cavalcanti, who stood with his back towards the fireplace--"I mean to propose a meeting in some retired corner where no one will interrupt us for ten minutes; that will be sufficient--where two men having met, one of them will remain on the ground." Danglars turned pale; Cavalcanti moved a step forward, and Albert turned towards him. "And you, too," said he, "come, if you like, monsieur; you have a claim, being almost one of the family, and I will give as many rendezvous of that kind as I can find persons willing to accept them." Cavalcanti looked at Danglars with a stupefied air, and the latter, making an effort, arose and stepped between the two young men. Albert's attack on Andrea had placed him on a different footing, and he hoped this visit had another cause than that he had at first supposed. 
"Indeed, sir," said he to Albert, "if you are come to quarrel with this gentleman because I have preferred him to you, I shall resign the case to the king's attorney." 
"You mistake, sir," said Morcerf with a gloomy smile; "I am not referring in the least to matrimony, and I only addressed myself to M. Cavalcanti because he appeared disposed to interfere between us. In one respect you are right, for I am ready to quarrel with every one to-day; but you have the first claim, M. Danglars." 
"Sir," replied Danglars, pale with anger and fear, "I warn you, when I have the misfortune to meet with a mad dog, I kill it; and far from thinking myself guilty of a crime, I believe I do society a kindness. Now, if you are mad and try to bite me, I will kill you without pity. Is it my fault that your father has dishonored himself?" 
"Yes, miserable wretch!" cried Morcerf, "it is your fault." Danglars retreated a few steps. "My fault?" said he; "you must be mad! What do I know of the Grecian affair? Have I travelled in that country? Did I advise your father to sell the castle of Yanina--to betray"-- 
"Silence!" said Albert, with a thundering voice. "No; it is not you who have directly made this exposure and brought this sorrow on us, but you hypocritically provoked it." 
"I?" 
"Yes; you! How came it known?" 
"I suppose you read it in the paper in the account from Yanina?" 
"Who wrote to Yanina?" 
"To Yanina?" 
"Yes. Who wrote for particulars concerning my father?" 
"I imagine any one may write to Yanina." 
"But one person only wrote!" 
"One only?" 
"Yes; and that was you!" 
"I, doubtless, wrote. It appears to me that when about to marry your daughter to a young man, it is right to make some inquiries respecting his family; it is not only a right, but a duty." 
"You wrote, sir, knowing what answer you would receive." 
"I, indeed? I assure you," cried Danglars, with a confidence and security proceeding less from fear than from the interest he really felt for the young man, "I solemnly declare to you, that I should never have thought of writing to Yanina, did I know anything of Ali Pasha's misfortunes." 
"Who, then, urged you to write? Tell me." 
"Pardieu! it was the most simple thing in the world. I was speaking of your father's past history. I said the origin of his fortune remained obscure. The person to whom I addressed my scruples asked me where your father had acquired his property? I answered, 'In Greece.'--'Then,' said he, 'write to Yanina.'" 
"And who thus advised you?" 
"No other than your friend, Monte Cristo." 
"The Count of Monte Cristo told you to write to Yanina?" 
"Yes; and I wrote, and will show you my correspondence, if you like." Albert and Beauchamp looked at each other. "Sir," said Beauchamp, who had not yet spoken, "you appear to accuse the count, who is absent from Paris at this moment, and cannot justify himself." 
"I accuse no one, sir," said Danglars; "I relate, and I will repeat before the count what I have said to you." 
"Does the count know what answer you received?" 
"Yes; I showed it to him." 
"Did he know my father's Christian name was Fernand, and his family name Mondego?" 
"Yes, I had told him that long since, and I did only what any other would have done in my circumstances, and perhaps less. When, the day after the arrival of this answer, your father came by the advice of Monte Cristo to ask my daughter's hand for you, I decidedly refused him, but without any explanation or exposure. In short, why should I have any more to do with the affair? How did the honor or disgrace of M. de Morcerf affect me? It neither increased nor decreased my income." 
Albert felt the blood mounting to his brow; there was no doubt upon the subject. Danglars defended himself with the baseness, but at the same time with the assurance, of a man who speaks the truth, at least in part, if not wholly--not for conscience' sake, but through fear. Besides, what was Morcerf seeking? It was not whether Danglars or Monte Cristo was more or less guilty; it was a man who would answer for the offence, whether trifling or serious; it was a man who would fight, and it was evident Danglars's would not fight. And, in addition to this, everything forgotten or unperceived before presented itself now to his recollection. Monte Cristo knew everything, as he had bought the daughter of Ali Pasha; and, knowing everything, he had advised Danglars to write to Yanina. The answer known, he had yielded to Albert's wish to be introduced to Haidée, and allowed the conversation to turn on the death of Ali, and had not opposed Haidée's recital (but having, doubtless, warned the young girl, in the few Romaic words he spoke to her, not to implicate Morcerf's father). Besides, had he not begged of Morcerf not to mention his father's name before Haidée? Lastly, he had taken Albert to Normandy when he knew the final blow was near. There could be no doubt that all had been calculated and previously arranged; Monte Cristo then was in league with his father's enemies. Albert took Beauchamp aside, and communicated these ideas to him. 
"You are right," said the latter; "M. Danglars has only been a secondary agent in this sad affair, and it is of M. de Monte Cristo that you must demand an explanation." Albert turned. "Sir," said he to Danglars, "understand that I do not take a final leave of you; I must ascertain if your insinuations are just, and am going now to inquire of the Count of Monte Cristo." He bowed to the banker, and went out with Beauchamp, without appearing to notice Cavalcanti. Danglars accompanied him to the door, where he again assured Albert that no motive of personal hatred had influenced him against the Count of Morcerf.  
“这时，”波尚继续说，“我趁着沉静和黑暗离开会议厅，因此没人看见我。那个放我进来的听差在房门口等我，他领我穿过走廊，到达一个通凡琪拉路的暗门。我是带着一种悲喜交加的情绪离开的。原谅我，阿尔贝，悲是为了你，喜是喜那个高贵的姑娘竟能这样为她的父母复仇。是的，阿尔贝，不论那次揭发的消息出自谁的手，是从哪儿来的，我要说：虽然它是从一个敌人那儿来的，但那个敌人一定是充当了上帝的使者。” 
阿尔贝用两手抱着他的头，他抬起他那羞得通红的、流满泪水的脸，一直抓住波尚的手臂。“我的朋友，”他说，“我的生命结束了。我不能心平气和地对你说，‘这是上帝的报应’，我必须去找出是谁在用这种手段迫害我，而当我找到他的时候，不是他杀死我，或是我杀死他。我要依赖你的友谊来帮助我来完成这件事，波尚，假如你对我的蔑视还不曾驱走我们之间友谊的话。” 
“蔑视，我的朋友！这件不幸的事情与你有什么关系呢？不，幸亏儿子要为父亲的行为负责充满公正的偏见时代已经过去了。回顾一下你的生活，阿尔贝，你的生活还仅仅只是开始，每一个黎明都都会给你的生涯带来更纯洁的希望。不，阿尔贝，接受我的忠告吧。你又年轻而又富有，离开法国吧。在这寻求刺激和时时改变口味的伟大的巴比伦，一切不久就会被忘记的。你在三四年以后娶一位俄国公主当作新娘带回来，谁都不会把昨天所发生的事情看作比十六年前所发生的事情更严重了。” 
“谢谢你，我亲爱的波尚，谢谢你那想使我放弃这种念头的好意，但我是不能这样做的。我已经把我的打算告诉你了，假如有可能的话，好，也可以说那就是我的决心。你知道，以我跟这件事情的关系而论，我不能采取与你一样的态度。在你看来纯粹是天意的事情，在我看来却远没有那样简单。我觉得上帝跟这件事情毫无关系。也幸亏是这样，因为只有这样，我这一个月来所忍受的痛苦，才能不以那摸不到看不见的惩恶天使为对象，而可以向一个既摸得到又看得见的人去寻求报复。现在，我再说一遍，波尚，我愿意回到人和物质的世界，而假如你还象你说的我们还是朋友的话，就帮助我来找出那只击出拳的手吧！ 
“这样也好，”波尚说，“假如你一定要拉我回到现实，我就屈服了，假如你一定要查出你的敌人，我就来帮助你，这件事情对我的名誉几乎也一样有同样相连的关系。” 
“嗯，那好，你知道，波尚，我们立刻开始搜索吧。每一瞬间的拖迟在我来说都象很长的时间。那个诽谤者到现在还没有受到任何惩罚，他或许希望他可以不受惩罚。但是，以我的名誉提保，假如他那样想的话，他就在欺骗他自己了。” 
“好吧，听我说，马尔塞夫。” 
“啊，波尚，我看你已经明白这一点了，你恢复了我的生命。” 
“我并没有说事情真是那样，但它至少是黑夜中的一道光芒，沿着这道光芒，我们或许可以达到我们的目的。” 
“告诉我吧，我都等得不耐烦了。” 
“嗯，我把我从亚尼纳回来的时候设想对您说的那件事告诉你。” 
“说吧。” 
“我到了那里，当然先到当地的大银行家那儿去调查。一开始，甚至我还没有提及你父亲的名字，他就说：‘啊，我猜道你为什么来的了。’‘怎么猜到的呢？’‘因为两星期以前，也有人来问我这同样的问题。’‘谁？’‘巴黎的一个银行家，我的业务伙伴。’他的名字是——’‘腾格拉尔。’” 
“他！”阿尔贝喊道，“是的，他的确早就对我的父亲嫉恨得不得了。他常以平民自居，不甘心看到马尔塞夫伯爵被任为贵族院的议员，而这次婚姻又是毫无理由破裂的，——对了，一切都是为了那个理由。” 
“去调查一下，阿尔贝，但不要无缘无故地发火。调查一下，假如是真的话——” 
“噢，是的，假如是真的，”那青年人喊道，“他就要偿还我所忍受的一切痛苦。” 
“要小心，马尔塞夫，他已经是一个老年人了。” 
“我尊敬他的年龄就象他尊敬我的家庭一样。假如他恨我的父亲，他为什么不打死我父亲呢？噢，他是怕跟一个人当面作对的。” 
“我并不是在责备你，阿尔贝，我只是要跟你说不要感情用事，要慎重一些。” 
“噢，不用怕，而且，你要陪我去的，波尚。严肃的事情应该当着证人来做的。今天，假如腾格拉尔先生是有罪的，不是他死，就是我死。嘿！波尚，我将以一次庄严的葬礼来维护我的名誉。” 
“既然你已下了这样的决心，阿尔贝，那就应该立刻去执行。你想立即到腾格拉尔先生那儿去吗？我们走吧。” 
他们派人去叫一辆轻便马车。一进那家银行家的院子，他们便看到安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂的四轮马车和他的仆人在门口。 
“啊，太好了！很好，”阿尔贝用一种阴郁的口吻说。“假如腾格拉尔先生不和我决斗，我就杀死他的女婿，他应该是愿意决斗的，——一个卡瓦尔康蒂！” 
仆人通知说阿尔贝来访，但那位银行家想起昨天的事情，吩咐仆人关门。可惜已经太迟了，阿尔贝跟着那听差进来了，听到他这样吩咐仆人，便硬推开门，径自闯入那位银行家的书房里，波尚跟在他的后面。 
“阁下，”那银行家喊道，“难道我没有权力在我的家里拒绝不想接见的人了吗？你看来是忘乎所以了。” 
“不，阁下，”阿尔贝冷冷地说，“在这种状况下，如果不是由于懦怯，——这是我给你的托词，——一个人就不能拒绝接见某些人。” 
“那末，你对我有什么要求呢，阁下？” 
“我要求，”阿尔贝一面说，一面走近他，似乎并未注意到那背着壁炉站着的卡瓦尔康蒂，——“我要求让我们在一个没有人来打扰的地方交谈十分钟，我对你只有这一点要求，仇人相遇，必定是一死一生。” 
腾格拉尔的脸色变得苍白了，卡瓦尔康蒂向前动了一步，阿尔贝就转向他。“还有你，”他说，“假如你高兴的话，你也来吧，子爵阁下，你也有资格这样，因为你几乎已经是这个家庭的一份子了，只要有人愿意接受这种约会，多约几个也无妨。” 
卡瓦尔康蒂带着一种愕然的神情望着腾格拉尔，腾格拉尔竭力振作了一下，站起来走到那两个青年人的中间。阿尔贝对安德烈的攻击使他有了一种不同的立场，他希望这次拜访别有缘故，不是他最初所假定的那个原因。 
“老实说，阁下，”他对阿尔贝说，“假如你因为我喜欢而陪你，所以到这儿来找这位先生吵架，我就要把这件事情交给检察官去处理。” 
“你弄错了，阁下，”马尔塞夫带着一个阴郁的微笑说，“这与婚事毫无关系，我所以要对卡瓦尔康蒂先生那样说，是因为他刚才似乎要来干涉我们的企图。在一方面，你说对了，我今天准备要跟每一个人吵架，但你有优先权，腾格拉尔先生。” 
“阁下，”腾格拉尔回答，愤怒和恐惧使他的脸色变得非常苍白，“我警告你，当我遇到一只疯狗的时候，我会杀了它，但我决不认为自己犯了罪，而是认为我为社会做了一件好事。假如你发了疯，要来咬我，我就要毫不留情地杀死你。难道你父亲的受辱是我的过错？” 
“是的，你这坏蛋！”马尔塞夫喊道，“是你的过错。” 
腾格拉尔后退了一步。“我的错！”他说，“你一定疯了！我怎么知道希腊的历史？我到那些国家去旅行了吗？是我劝告你的父亲出卖亚尼纳堡，背叛——” 
“住口！”阿尔贝用一种窒息的声音说。“不，你并没有直接揭露这件事情，并没有直接来伤害我们，但这件事情是你暗中唆使的。” 
“我？” 
“是的，你！那则消息是从哪儿来的？” 
“咦，我想报纸已经告诉你了，当然是从亚尼纳来的！” 
“谁写信到亚尼纳去的？” 
“写信到亚尼纳？” 
“是的。是谁写信去打听关于我父亲的消息的？” 
“我想谁都可以写信到亚尼纳去的吧。” 
“但只有一个人写了那封信！” 
“只有一个人？” 
“是的，而那个人就是你！” 
“我当然要写。没错，我觉得，当自己的女儿快要嫁给一个青年人的时候，应该去打听一下他的家庭。这不但是一种权利，而且是我的一种责任。” 
“你写那封信的时候，阁下，是已经知道你会得到什么回答的。” 
“我！真的，我可以保证，”腾格拉尔用一种信任而且放心的神情喊道，这也许并不完全是吓出来的，而多半是因为他对那个可怜的青年真正感到了关切，“我庄严地向你保证，我本来决想不到要写信到亚尼纳去。我怎知道阿里总督的遭难呢，——我知道吗？” 
“那肯定是有人煽动你写的了？” 
“是的” 
“那个人是谁？说说呀” 
“啊！这事很简单。我谈到你父亲的过去。我说，他的财产由来还不大清楚。那个人就问我，你父亲的财产是哪儿弄来的？我回答说：在希腊呗。他就对我说：‘好呀！写信到亚尼纳去就是了。’” 
“劝你的那个人是谁？” 
“不是别人，就是你的朋友基督山伯爵。” 
“基督山伯爵叫你写信到亚尼纳去的？” 
“是的，于是我就写了，假如你高兴的话我可以把回信给你看。” 
阿尔贝和波尚对望了一眼。“阁下，”波尚说，“你似乎在指责伯爵，而你知道伯爵此刻不在巴黎，无法为他自己辩护。” 
“我没有指责任何人，阁下，”腾格拉尔说，“我只是实话实说，即使在伯爵面前。” 
“伯爵知道回信的内容吗？ 
“知道，我给他看过回信。” 
“他知道我父亲的教名叫弗尔南多，姓蒙台哥吗？” 
“知道，我早就告诉他了。除此以外，我所做的每件事情，任何人处于我的处境，都会这么做的，甚至比我做得更多一些。在我收到回信的第二天，你父亲在基督山的怂勇下，正式来为你提亲，我坚决地拒绝了他，没有作任何解释。我没有必要去揭他的老底，马尔塞夫先生露脸还是丢脸，管我什么事？我既不会因此多赚些钱，也不会因此少赚些。” 
阿尔贝觉得自己连额头都涨红了，没有什么可怀疑的了。 
腾格拉尔卑鄙地为自己辩解，但说话的神气却不象在为自己辩解，好象他说的每句话都是千真万确的，当然他的吐露真情并不是由于良心发现而多半是由于害怕的缘故。但马尔塞夫不是要证实腾格拉尔和基督山谁的罪大；而是要寻求一个肯答复侮辱的人，一个肯和自己决斗的人，而腾格拉尔显然是不肯决斗的。这时那些被遗忘或当初并未留意的事情都在他的记忆中呈现出来了。基督山既然买了阿里总督的女儿，当然知道一切；知道了一切，他才劝腾格拉尔写信到亚尼纳去，完全是有预谋的。他知道了回信的内容，所以顺从阿尔贝的愿望，介绍他会见海黛，又有意使谈话转移到阿里之死，不去反对海黛讲述这个故事（但当他用罗马语对那个青年女郎说话的时候，无疑地曾警告了她，叫她不要指明马尔塞夫的父亲）。而且，他不是还要求马尔塞夫不要在海黛的面前提及他父亲的名字吗？最后，当他得知决定性的打击就要到临的时候，他就带阿尔贝去了诺曼底。这一切无疑都经过精心安排好的。，那么基督山也是他父亲的敌人之一了。阿尔贝把波尚拉到一边，把这些想法告诉了他。 
“你说得有理，”，波尚说，“腾格拉尔先生在这件事情上只是做得鲁莽俗气一些，而这位基督山先生，你倒是应该要求他解释清楚。” 
阿尔贝转过身来。“阁下，”他对腾格拉尔说，“我得证实你的推诿是否成立，我现在就去问基督山伯爵。”他向那位银行家鞠了一躬，和波尚一同向外走，丝毫不在意卡瓦尔康蒂。 
腾格拉尔一直陪他到门口，他在门口又向阿尔贝申明他对马尔塞夫伯爵并无个人恩怨，并不想去得罪他。 
Chapter 88 The Insult
AT THE banker's door Beauchamp stopped Morcerf. "Listen," said he; "just now I told you it was of M. de Monte Cristo you must demand an explanation." 
"Yes; and we are going to his house." 
"Reflect, Morcerf, one moment before you go." 
"On what shall I reflect?" 
"On the importance of the step you are taking." 
"Is it more serious than going to M. Danglars?" 
"Yes; M. Danglars is a money-lover, and those who love money, you know, think too much of what they risk to be easily induced to fight a duel. The other is, on the contrary, to all appearance a true nobleman; but do you not fear to find him a bully?" 
"I only fear one thing; namely, to find a man who will not fight." 
"Do not be alarmed," said Beauchamp; "he will meet you. My only fear is that he will be too strong for you." 
"My friend," said Morcerf, with a sweet smile, "that is what I wish. The happiest thing that could occur to me, would be to die in my father's stead; that would save us all." 
"Your mother would die of grief." 
"My poor mother!" said Albert, passing his hand across his eyes, "I know she would; but better so than die of shame." 
"Are you quite decided, Albert?" 
"Yes; let us go." 
"But do you think we shall find the count at home?" 
"He intended returning some hours after me, and doubtless he is now at home." They ordered the driver to take them to No. 30 Champs-Elysées. Beauchamp wished to go in alone, but Albert observed that as this was an unusual circumstance he might be allowed to deviate from the usual etiquette in affairs of honor. The cause which the young man espoused was one so sacred that Beauchamp had only to comply with all his wishes; he yielded and contented himself with following Morcerf. Albert sprang from the porter's lodge to the steps. He was received by Baptistin. The count had, indeed, just arrived, but he was in his bath, and had forbidden that any one should be admitted. "But after his bath?" asked Morcerf. 
"My master will go to dinner." 
"And after dinner?" 
"He will sleep an hour." 
"Then?" 
"He is going to the opera." 
"Are you sure of it?" asked Albert. 
"Quite, sir; my master has ordered his horses at eight o'clock precisely." 
"Very good," replied Albert; "that is all I wished to know." Then, turning towards Beauchamp, "If you have anything to attend to, Beauchamp, do it directly; if you have any appointment for this evening, defer it till tomorrow. I depend on you to accompany me to the opera; and if you can, bring Chateau-Renaud with you." 
Beauchamp availed himself of Albert's permission, and left him, promising to call for him at a quarter before eight. On his return home, Albert expressed his wish to Franz Debray, and Morrel, to see them at the opera that evening. Then he went to see his mother, who since the events of the day before had refused to see any one, and had kept her room. He found her in bed, overwhelmed with grief at this public humiliation. The sight of Albert produced the effect which might naturally be expected on Mercédès; she pressed her son's hand and sobbed aloud, but her tears relieved her. Albert stood one moment speechless by the side of his mother's bed. It was evident from his pale face and knit brows that his resolution to revenge himself was growing weaker. "My dear mother," said he, "do you know if M. de Morcerf has any enemy?" Mercédès started; she noticed that the young man did not say "my father." "My son," she said, "persons in the count's situation have many secret enemies. Those who are known are not the most dangerous." 
"I know it, and appeal to your penetration. You are of so superior a mind, nothing escapes you." 
"Why do you say so?" 
"Because, for instance, you noticed on the evening of the ball we gave, that M. de Monte Cristo would eat nothing in our house." Mercédès raised herself on her feverish arm. "M. de Monte Cristo!" she exclaimed; "and how is he connected with the question you asked me?" 
"You know, mother, M. de Monte Cristo is almost an Oriental, and it is customary with the Orientals to secure full liberty for revenge by not eating or drinking in the houses of their enemies." 
"Do you say M. de Monte Cristo is our enemy?" replied Mercédès, becoming paler than the sheet which covered her. "Who told you so? Why, you are mad, Albert! M. de Monte Cristo has only shown us kindness. M. de Monte Cristo saved your life; you yourself presented him to us. Oh, I entreat you, my son, if you had entertained such an idea, dispel it; and my counsel to you--nay, my prayer--is to retain his friendship." 
"Mother," replied the young man, "you have especial reasons for telling me to conciliate that man." 
"I?" said Mercédès, blushing as rapidly as she had turned pale, and again becoming paler than ever. 
"Yes, doubtless; and is it not that he may never do us any harm?" Mercédès shuddered, and, fixing on her son a scrutinizing gaze, "You speak strangely," said she to Albert, "and you appear to have some singular prejudices. What has the count done? Three days since you were with him in Normandy; only three days since we looked on him as our best friend." 
An ironical smile passed over Albert's lips. Mercédès saw it and with the double instinct of woman and mother guessed all; but as she was prudent and strong-minded she concealed both her sorrows and her fears. Albert was silent; an instant after, the countess resumed: "You came to inquire after my health; I will candidly acknowledge that I am not well. You should install yourself here, and cheer my solitude. I do not wish to be left alone." 
"Mother," said the young man, "you know how gladly I would obey your wish, but an urgent and important affair obliges me to leave you for the whole evening." 
"Well," replied Mercédès, sighing, "go, Albert; I will not make you a slave to your filial piety." Albert pretended he did not hear, bowed to his mother, and quitted her. Scarcely had he shut her door, when Mercédès called a confidential servant, and ordered him to follow Albert wherever he should go that evening, and to come and tell her immediately what he observed. Then she rang for her lady's maid, and, weak as she was, she dressed, in order to be ready for whatever might happen. The footman's mission was an easy one. Albert went to his room, and dressed with unusual care. At ten minutes to eight Beauchamp arrived; he had seen Chateau-Renaud, who had promised to be in the orchestra before the curtain was raised. Both got into Albert's coupé; and, as the young man had no reason to conceal where he was going, he called aloud, "To the opera." In his impatience he arrived before the beginning of the performance. 
Chateau-Renaud was at his post; apprised by Beauchamp of the circumstances, he required no explanation from Albert. The conduct of the son in seeking to avenge his father was so natural that Chateau-Renaud did not seek to dissuade him, and was content with renewing his assurances of devotion. Debray was not yet come, but Albert knew that he seldom lost a scene at the opera. Albert wandered about the theatre until the curtain was drawn up. He hoped to meet with M. de Monte Cristo either in the lobby or on the stairs. The bell summoned him to his seat, and he entered the orchestra with Chateau-Renaud and Beauchamp. But his eyes scarcely quitted the box between the columns, which remained obstinately closed during the whole of the first act. At last, as Albert was looking at his watch for about the hundredth time, at the beginning of the second act the door opened, and Monte Cristo entered, dressed in black, and, leaning over the front of the box, looked around the pit. Morrel followed him, and looked also for his sister and brother in-law; he soon discovered them in another box, and kissed his hand to them. 
The count, in his survey of the pit, encountered a pale face and threatening eyes, which evidently sought to gain his attention. He recognized Albert, but thought it better not to notice him, as he looked so angry and discomposed. Without communicating his thoughts to his companion, he sat down, drew out his opera-glass, and looked another way. Although apparently not noticing Albert, he did not, however, lose sight of him, and when the curtain fell at the end of the second act, he saw him leave the orchestra with his two friends. Then his head was seen passing at the back of the boxes, and the count knew that the approaching storm was intended to fall on him. He was at the moment conversing cheerfully with Morrel, but he was well prepared for what might happen. The door opened, and Monte Cristo, turning round, saw Albert, pale and trembling, followed by Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud. 
"Well," cried he, with that benevolent politeness which distinguished his salutation from the common civilities of the world, "my cavalier has attained his object. Good-evening, M. de Morcerf." The countenance of this man, who possessed such extraordinary control over his feelings, expressed the most perfect cordiality. Morrel only then recollected the letter he had received from the viscount, in which, without assigning any reason, he begged him to go to the opera, but he understood that something terrible was brooding. 
"We are not come here, sir, to exchange hypocritical expressions of politeness, or false professions of friendship," said Albert, "but to demand an explanation." The young man's trembling voice was scarcely audible. "An explanation at the opera?" said the count, with that calm tone and penetrating eye which characterize the man who knows his cause is good. "Little acquainted as I am with the habits of Parisians, I should not have thought this the place for such a demand." 
"Still, if people will shut themselves up," said Albert, "and cannot be seen because they are bathing, dining, or asleep, we must avail ourselves of the opportunity whenever they are to be seen." 
"I am not difficult of access, sir; for yesterday, if my memory does not deceive me, you were at my house." 
"Yesterday I was at your house, sir," said the young man; "because then I knew not who you were." In pronouncing these words Albert had raised his voice so as to be heard by those in the adjoining boxes and in the lobby. Thus the attention of many was attracted by this altercation. "Where are you come from, sir? You do not appear to be in the possession of your senses." 
"Provided I understand your perfidy, sir, and succeed in making you understand that I will be revenged, I shall be reasonable enough," said Albert furiously. 
"I do not understand you, sir," replied Monte Cristo; "and if I did, your tone is too high. I am at home here, and I alone have a right to raise my voice above another's. Leave the box, sir!" Monte Cristo pointed towards the door with the most commanding dignity. "Ah, I shall know how to make you leave your home!" replied Albert, clasping in his convulsed grasp the glove, which Monte Cristo did not lose sight of. 
"Well, well," said Monte Cristo quietly, "I see you wish to quarrel with me; but I would give you one piece of advice, which you will do well to keep in mind. It is in poor taste to make a display of a challenge. Display is not becoming to every one, M. de Morcerf." 
At this name a murmur of astonishment passed around the group of spectators of this scene. They had talked of no one but Morcerf the whole day. Albert understood the allusion in a moment, and was about to throw his glove at the count, when Morrel seized his hand, while Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud, fearing the scene would surpass the limits of a challenge, held him back. But Monte Cristo, without rising, and leaning forward in his chair, merely stretched out his arm and, taking the damp, crushed glove from the clinched hand of the young man, "Sir," said he in a solemn tone, "I consider your glove thrown, and will return it to you wrapped around a bullet. Now leave me or I will summon my servants to throw you out at the door." 
Wild, almost unconscious, and with eyes inflamed, Albert stepped back, and Morrel closed the door. Monte Cristo took up his glass again as if nothing had happened; his face was like marble, and his heart was like bronze. Morrel whispered, "What have you done to him?" 
"I? Nothing--at least personally," said Monte Cristo. 
"But there must be some cause for this strange scene." 
"The Count of Morcerf's adventure exasperates the young man." 
"Have you anything to do with it?" 
"It was through Haidée that the Chamber was informed of his father's treason." 
"Indeed?" said Morrel. "I had been told, but would not credit it, that the Grecian slave I have seen with you here in this very box was the daughter of Ali Pasha." 
"It is true, nevertheless." 
"Then," said Morrel, "I understand it all, and this scene was premeditated." 
"How so?" 
"Yes. Albert wrote to request me to come to the opera, doubtless that I might be a witness to the insult he meant to offer you." 
"Probably," said Monte Cristo with his imperturbable tranquillity. 
"But what shall you do with him?" 
"With whom?" 
"With Albert." 
"What shall I do with Albert? As certainly, Maximilian, as I now press your hand, I shall kill him before ten o'clock to-morrow morning." Morrel, in his turn, took Monte Cristo's hand in both of his, and he shuddered to feel how cold and steady it was. 
"Ah, Count," said he, "his father loves him so much!" 
"Do not speak to me of that," said Monte Cristo, with the first movement of anger he had betrayed; "I will make him suffer." Morrel, amazed, let fall Monte Cristo's hand. "Count, count!" said he. 
"Dear Maximilian," interrupted the count, "listen how adorably Duprez is singing that line,-- 
'O Mathilde! idole de mon ame!' 
"I was the first to discover Duprez at Naples, and the first to applaud him. Bravo, bravo!" Morrel saw it was useless to say more, and refrained. The curtain, which had risen at the close of the scene with Albert, again fell, and a rap was heard at the door. 
"Come in," said Monte Cristo with a voice that betrayed not the least emotion; and immediately Beauchamp appeared. "Good-evening, M. Beauchamp," said Monte Cristo, as if this was the first time he had seen the journalist that evening; "be seated." 
Beauchamp bowed, and, sitting down, "Sir," said he, "I just now accompanied M. de Morcerf, as you saw." 
"And that means," replied Monte Cristo, laughing, "that you had, probably, just dined together. I am happy to see, M. Beauchamp, that you are more sober than he was." 
"Sir," said M. Beauchamp, "Albert was wrong, I acknowledge, to betray so much anger, and I come, on my own account, to apologize for him. And having done so, entirely on my own account, be it understood, I would add that I believe you too gentlemanly to refuse giving him some explanation concerning your connection with Yanina. Then I will add two words about the young Greek girl." Monte Cristo motioned him to be silent. "Come," said he, laughing, "there are all my hopes about to be destroyed." 
"How so?" asked Beauchamp. 
"Doubtless you wish to make me appear a very eccentric character. I am, in your opinion, a Lara, a Manfred, a Lord Ruthven; then, just as I am arriving at the climax, you defeat your own end, and seek to make an ordinary man of me. You bring me down to your own level, and demand explanations! Indeed, M. Beauchamp, it is quite laughable." 
"Yet," replied Beauchamp haughtily, "there are occasions when probity commands"-- 
"M. Beauchamp," interposed this strange man, "the Count of Monte Cristo bows to none but the Count of Monte Cristo himself. Say no more, I entreat you. I do what I please, M. Beauchamp, and it is always well done." 
"Sir," replied the young man, "honest men are not to be paid with such coin. I require honorable guaranties." 
"I am, sir, a living guaranty," replied Monte Cristo, motionless, but with a threatening look; "we have both blood in our veins which we wish to shed--that is our mutual guaranty. Tell the viscount so, and that to-morrow, before ten o'clock, I shall see what color his is." 
"Then I have only to make arrangements for the duel," said Beauchamp. 
"It is quite immaterial to me," said Monte Cristo, "and it was very unnecessary to disturb me at the opera for such a trifle. In France people fight with the sword or pistol, in the colonies with the carbine, in Arabia with the dagger. Tell your client that, although I am the insulted party, in order to carry out my eccentricity, I leave him the choice of arms, and will accept without discussion, without dispute, anything, even combat by drawing lots, which is always stupid, but with me different from other people, as I am sure to gain." 
"Sure to gain!" repeated Beauchamp, looking with amazement at the count. 
"Certainly," said Monte Cristo, slightly shrugging his shoulders; "otherwise I would not fight with M. de Morcerf. I shall kill him--I cannot help it. Only by a single line this evening at my house let me know the arms and the hour; I do not like to be kept waiting." 
"Pistols, then, at eight o'clock, in the Bois de Vincennes," said Beauchamp, quite disconcerted, not knowing if he was dealing with an arrogant braggadocio or a supernatural being. 
"Very well, sir," said Monte Cristo. "Now all that is settled, do let me see the performance, and tell your friend Albert not to come any more this evening; he will hurt himself with all his ill-chosen barbarisms: let him go home and go to sleep." Beauchamp left the box, perfectly amazed. "Now," said Monte Cristo, turning towards Morrel, "I may depend upon you, may I not?" 
"Certainly," said Morrel, "I am at your service, count; still"-- 
"What?" 
"It is desirable I should know the real cause." 
"That is to say, you would rather not?" 
"No." 
"The young man himself is acting blindfolded, and knows not the true cause, which is known only to God and to me; but I give you my word, Morrel, that God, who does know it, will be on our side." 
"Enough," said Morrel; "who is your second witness?" 
"I know no one in Paris, Morrel, on whom I could confer that honor besides you and your brother Emmanuel. Do you think Emmanuel would oblige me?" 
"I will answer for him, count." 
"Well? that is all I require. To-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, you will be with me, will you not?" 
"We will." 
"Hush, the curtain is rising. Listen! I never lose a note of this opera if I can avoid it; the music of William Tell is so sweet."  
在那位银行家的门口，波尚让马尔塞夫停一下。“听着，”他说，“刚才我已对你说过，你必须要求基督山先生解释清楚。” 
“总的，我们现在就去找他。” 
“等一等，马尔塞夫，在见他以前，你必须先考虑考虑。” 
“考虑什么？” 
“考虑这么做的严重性。” 
“这比到腾格拉尔先生那儿去更严重吗？” 
“是的，腾格拉尔先生是一个爱钱的人，而那些爱钱的人，你知道，考虑到危险太大是不轻易与一人决斗的。而这一位却相反，他是一位绅士。你难道不怕他接受你的挑战，与你决斗吗？” 
“我只怕一件事，那就是，怕遇不到一个肯与我决斗的人。” 
“噢，你放心，”波尚说，“他肯定决斗的。我只怕他太厉害了，你敌不过他。” 
“我的朋友，”马尔塞夫微笑着说，“为我的父亲而死在决斗场是我所希望的。那样，我们就都得救了。” 
“你的母亲会伤心死的。” 
“我可怜的母亲！”阿尔贝揉了揉眼睛，“我知道她会的，但这样总比羞死好。” 
“你下定决心了吗，阿尔贝？” 
“是的。” 
“我们能在家里找到他吗？” 
“他说比我晚几个钟头回来的，他现在应该是在家了。” 
  
  
他们登上马车向香榭丽舍大道三十号驶去。波尚想一个人进去，但阿尔贝说，这次的情况与平时不一样，他不必严格遵守决斗的规则。年轻人完全处于一种神圣的动机，波尚只能顺从他的心意，他同意和马尔塞夫一同进去。阿尔贝从大门口跑到台阶上。巴浦斯汀在门口接着他。伯爵刚回家，现在正在洗澡，不让任何人进去。 
“洗完澡干什么？”马尔塞夫问道。 
“主人要去吃饭。” 
“吃完饭呢？” 
“他要睡一个钟头。” 
“然后呢？” 
“他要到歌剧院去。” 
“你能确定吗？”阿尔贝问。 
“十分确定，伯爵曾吩咐八点正为他准备好马。” 
“好极了，”阿尔贝回答，“我就想知道这些情况。” 
然后，他转身对波尚说，“要是您有什么事情要去办理，波尚，赶快就去办它。要是你今天晚上有约会，请把它改到明天。我要你陪我到剧院去，假如可能的话，把夏多·勒诺也带来。” 
波尚在阿尔贝同意以后就离开了他，答应在七点刻的时候去拜访他。回家以后，阿尔贝通知弗兰士、德布雷和莫雷尔，希望今天晚上能在剧院里看见他们。然后他又去见他的母亲。他的母亲自从昨天开始，就不愿见任何人，独自躺在她的卧室里。阿尔贝发现她躺在床上，这次公开的羞辱把她完全压倒了。阿尔贝的出现使她得到了很大的安慰，她紧紧地抓住儿子的手，忍不住抽泣起来；但她的眼泪也不能减少她的痛苦。阿尔贝默默地站在母亲的床边。从那苍白的脸色和紧皱的眉头上，可以看出他复仇的心愿已渐渐消除了。“我亲爱的母亲，”他说，“你知道马尔塞夫先生有什么敌人吗？” 
美塞苔丝非常吃惊，她注意到她的儿子并没有说“我的父亲”。“我的儿子，”她说，“象伯爵这样有显赫地位的人总是暗中有许多仇敌的。那些明目张胆的仇敌并不是最危险的。” 
“是的，我知道的，所以来请求你的判断。你思维敏捷，什么事都逃不过您的眼睛。” 
“你为什么要说那些话？” 
“因为，比如说，在我们家举行舞会的那天晚上，你就注意到基督山先生根本没有吃我们家的一点东西。” 
美塞苔丝用她那颤抖的手支撑起身体。“基督山先生！”她惊讶地喊道，“他跟这一切有什么关系呢？” 
“你知道，妈，基督山先生可说完全是一个东方人，而根据东方人的习惯，不在他们仇敌家里吃一点东西、喝一口水便可以保住他复仇的全部自由。” 
“你是说基督山先生是我们的仇敌吗？”美塞苔丝问道，脸色变得比她身上的那张床单更苍白。“谁告诉你的？你疯啦，阿尔贝！基督山先生一直对我们彬彬有礼。基督山先生也救了你的命，是你自己把他推荐给我们的呀。噢，我求求你，我的儿子，假如你有这种想法，赶快抛开它，我告诉你——不，我请求你和他保持你们之间的友谊。” 
“妈，”那阿尔贝回答，“你要我向那个人妥协，难道有特殊原因的吗？” 
“我？”美塞苔丝说，她的脸上一阵白一阵红。但很快又变得苍白起来。 
“是的，一定有的，而那个理由是，”阿尔贝说，—— 
“是不是——就是怕这个人会伤害我们？” 
美塞苔丝打了一个寒颤，用考察的眼光盯住他的儿子。 
“你说的话离奇古怪，”她对阿尔贝说，好象怀着某种古怪成见似的。伯爵有什么事使你不高兴呀？三天以前，你还他一同在诺曼底，仅仅三天以前，我们还把他当成是我们最好的朋友。” 
阿尔贝的嘴边掠过一个自嘲的微笑，美塞苔丝看见了，她凭着一个女人和一个母亲的双重直觉，她预知了一切，但她是一个审慎和坚强的人，她把她的悲哀和恐惧深深地掩藏起来。阿尔贝默不出声，过了好一会儿，伯爵夫人重新说：“你来问我健康怎么样，我坦白说我很不舒服。你留在这儿陪我一会吧。我不愿意一个人呆在房间里。” 
“妈，”那青年说，“你知道我很高兴陪你，但有一件很要紧的重大事情使我不得不离开你一晚上。” 
“好吧。”美塞苔丝说道，叹了一口气，“去吧，阿尔贝，我不愿意你成为一个孝顺的奴隶。” 
阿尔贝装作没有听到这句话，他向母亲鞠了一躬，就离开了她。 
他刚把门关上，美塞苔丝便去召来一个心腹人，吩咐晚上跟着阿尔贝出去，并把他所看到的立刻回来报告她。然后她按铃让她的侍婢进来，支撑起虚弱的身子，把自己梳妆好，准备随时应付可能发生的事情。 
那个仆人的差事并不难做。阿尔贝回到他的寝室里，象往常一样仔细地打扮齐整。七点五十分，波尚来了，他已见过夏多·勒诺，夏答应他在开幕以前到达剧院。两人进阿尔贝的双座四轮马车里，阿尔贝没有丝毫隐瞒，便喊道：“到歌剧院去。”他在焦躁不安的情绪中在开幕前到达了剧院。 
夏多·勒诺已经到了，波尚已经把全部事情通知过他，他无需阿尔贝向他解释。儿子为父亲复仇的行为是天经地义的事，所以夏多·勒诺并不劝阻他，只是重申了他一定会把他作为永远的朋友。 
德布雷还没有来，但阿尔贝知道他很少错过一场戏的。阿尔贝在剧院里到处闲荡，直到幕拉开。他希望在外厅或楼梯上能遇到基督山。铃声召他回座，他与夏多·勒诺和波尚一同走进剧院。但他的眼睛始终没有离开过两根廊柱之间的那个包厢，可是在第一幕演出时候，那个包厢的门始终紧紧地关闭着。最后，当阿尔贝差不多是第一百次望他的手表时，也就是第二幕开始的时候，门开了，基督山穿着一套黑衣服走了进来，站到包厢前面的栏杆上，向大厅环视。莫雷尔跟在他的后面，用眼光去寻找他的妹妹和妹夫。他不久就发现他们在另一个包厢里，向他们点头示意。 
伯爵在环顾正厅的时候遇到一张苍白的面孔和一双气势汹汹的眼睛，而且那一对眼睛显然引起他的注意。他认出那是阿尔贝。看到他这样愤怒和失常，还是认为最好不去看他。 
他不露声色地坐下，拿出他的望远镜，向别处观望。他表面上虽然并没有去注意阿尔贝，但实际上阿尔贝却从未离开过他的视线。当第二幕的帷幕落下来的时候，他看见他和他的两个朋友离了正厅前座然后又看见他的头在包厢后面经过，伯爵就知道那逐渐接近的风暴将要落到他身上来了。这时，他正在和莫雷尔高高兴地聊天，但他已经准备好了随时应付可能发生的一切。门开了，基督山转过头去，他看到阿尔贝脸色苍白，浑身颤抖地走进来，后面跟着波尚和夏多·勒诺。 
“唉，”他喊道，他的口令是那样的慈爱殷勤，显然与一般人的普通招呼不同，“我的骑士到达目的地啦。晚安，马尔塞夫先生。”这个人很善于控制自己的情绪，他的脸上露出十分亲热的神情，莫雷尔到达时才想起子爵给他的那封信，那封信里并没有说任何理由，只是要求他到剧院来，但他知道有一件可怕的事情要将发生。 
“阁下，我们不是到这儿来听你这些虚伪的客套话的，也不是来跟你谈什么友谊的，”阿尔贝说，“我们是来解释的，伯爵阁下。”那青年的颤抖声音象是从咬紧的牙齿里传出来的一样。 
“在剧院里作解释？”伯爵说，那镇定的声音和洞察一切的目光证明他始终保持着自制力。“我对于巴黎人的习惯知道得很少，但我想在这种地方是不适宜提出这种要求的。” 
  
  
“可是，假如有些把他们自己关在家里，”阿尔贝说，“只因为他在洗澡、吃饭或睡觉就不能见客，我们就只能在哪儿碰到他就在哪儿向他提出些问题。” 
“我不是很难找的呀，阁下，因为，假如我的记忆力还不算太坏的话，昨天您还在我的家里。” 
“昨天，我是在你的家里，阁下，”阿尔贝说，“因为那时我还不知道你是谁。” 
“我还不知道你是谁。”说这几句话的时候，阿尔贝已提高他们的谈话嗓们，这样近的包厢和休息室的人都可以听得到。所以已经有许多人的注意力已经被这一声争吵吸引过来了。 
“您是从哪儿来的，阁下？”基督山说，脸上毫无表情。 
“您看来已完全丧失理智啦。” 
“只要我懂得你是一个不义的家伙，阁下，而且还要你明白。我要报复，我就够清醒了。”阿尔贝狂怒地说。 
“我不懂得您的意思，阁下，”基督山回答，“就算我知道你的意思，您的声音太大。这儿是我的地方，这里只有我有权利可以比旁人讲得高。请您出去，阁下！”基督山以威严的神态指着门。 
“啊，我要你离开，离开你的地方！”基督山以威严的神态指着门。 
“啊，我要你离开，离开你的地方！”阿尔贝一面回答，一面把他的手套在他那痉挛的手掌里捏成一团，基督山完全看见这了这一切。 
“好了，好了！”基督山平静地说，“我看您要跟我打架，但我要奉劝你一句，您不要忘记。挑衅是一个坏习惯。况且并不是对每一个人都有效的，马尔塞夫先生。” 
听到这个名字，看到这场争吵，旁观音之中发出了一阵阵惊异的低语声。从昨天以来他们整天都在谈论马尔塞夫。阿尔贝立刻明白了这个暗示的意思，他正要把他的手套向伯爵脸上摔过去，莫雷尔及时快速地捉住他的手，波尚和夏多·勒诺也恐怕这种局面越出决斗挑衅的界限，一齐挡住他。但基督山并没有起身，只是从椅背上转过身来，从阿尔贝的捏紧的手里拿出了那只潮湿团绉的手套。“阁下，”他用一种庄严的口气说，“就算您的手套已经扔了，我用它裹好一颗子弹送给您。现在离开我的包厢，不然我就要我的仆人来赶你到门外去了。” 
阿尔贝退了出去，他的神色迷乱，眼睛冒火，几乎丧失了理智，摩莱关上门。基督山又拿起他的望远镜，象是根本不曾发生过什么似的；他有一颗铜做的心和大理石雕成的脸。 
莫雷尔耳语说：“您对他做过什么事情？” 
“我？没有什么，至少对他个人没有什么。”基督山说。 
“但这一切叫那个年青人感到愤怒。” 
“那件事跟您有关系吗？” 
“他父亲的叛逆罪是海黛去告诉贵族院的。” 
“真的？”莫雷尔说。“我听人说过，但我不相信，我不相信在这个包厢里见到过的和你在一起的那个希腊奴隶说是阿里总督的女儿。” 
“这一切完全是真的。” 
“看来，”莫雷尔说，“我懂了，刚才这场争吵是有预谋的。” 
“怎么会呢？” 
“是的，阿尔贝写信要求我到歌剧院来，无疑是要我做一个看见他侮辱您的见证人。” 
“大概是的。”基督山泰然自若地说。 
“但您预备怎样反击他呢？” 
“对谁？” 
“阿尔贝。” 
“我准备对阿尔贝怎么样？马西米兰，就象我现在握住您的手一样确定无疑，在明天早晨十点钟以前，我一定会杀死他。”莫雷尔把基督山的手捧在自己的两手之间，他打了一个寒颤，觉得那只手是那样的冰冷和坚定。 
“啊，伯爵，”他说，“他的父亲是那样的爱他！” 
“别再向我提起那个人！”基督山说，这是他第一次发火，“我要使他痛苦。” 
莫雷尔在惊愕之下让伯爵那只手抽出去。“伯爵！伯爵！”他说。 
“亲爱的马西米兰，”伯爵打断他的话说，“听杜普里兹［杜普里兹（一八○六—一八九六），法国歌剧演员。——译注］吧。” 
莫雷尔知道再说什么也没有用，只好不哼声了。阿尔贝吵完退出时，拉起的那道舞台帷幕，不一会便又降落了下来。 
这是一阵急促的敲门声。 
“请进！”基督山说，他的声音仍然象平常一样的平静，波尚立刻出现了。“晚安，波尚先生，”基督山说好，象是今天晚上看见那位新闻记者似的，“请坐。” 
波尚鞠了一躬坐下。“阁下，”他说，“你刚才已经看到我是陪马尔塞夫先生的。” 
“那就是说，”基督山面带微笑说，“你们大概还是一块用餐的。波尚先生，我很高兴看到您比他稳重一些。 
“阁下，”波尚说，“我承认阿尔贝不应该向您发这样大的火，但道歉了以后，你懂得，伯爵阁下，我只是代表我本人道歉的，我还要说：我相信你一定会给我这个面子，不会拒绝跟我解释一下你和亚尼纳的关系。再者，还有那位年轻的希腊姑娘，我还要说几句话。” 
基督山示意请他住口。“喏，”他微笑着说，“我的全部希望已经破灭了。” 
“怎么会呢？”波尚说。 
“您当然希望我是一个非常怪僻的人物。照您看来，我是一个勒拉，一个曼弗雷特，一个罗思文勋爵。然后，当大家都这样认为时，您却破坏了我的形象，又要把我塑造成一个普通人了。您要把我拉回到现实中去，最后，您竟要求我作出什么解释！真的，波尚先生，这也太可笑啦。” 
“可是，”波尚傲慢地答道，“有的时候，当正义的命令——” 
“波尚先生，”这个怪人打断他的话说，“基督山伯爵只是接受基督山伯爵的命令的。所以，什么都不要说了。我爱怎么做就怎么做，波尚先生，而且我总会做得很好的。” 
“阁下，”波尚答道，“正义之士得到的不应该是这样的答复。信义是需要有个保证的。” 
“阁下，我就是一个活生生的例子，”基督山不动声色但却气势汹汹地回答，“我们两人的血管里都有我们愿意抛洒的热血，——那就是我们相互的保证。就这样去告诉子爵吧，明天早晨十点钟以前，我就可以看到他的血究竟是什么颜色了。” 
“看来我只好安排你们决斗的手续就是了。”波尚说。 
“对于这我是无所谓的，阁下，”基督山说，“以这种小事在剧院里来打扰我实在没有什么必要。在法国，人们用剑或手枪决斗。在殖民地，用马枪决斗。在阿拉伯，用匕首决斗。告诉你的委托人，虽然我是忍受侮辱的一方，为了保持我的怪僻，我允许他选择武器，而且可以不经讨论，毫无异议地接受，你听清楚了吗？什么都行，甚至用抽签的办法也可以，虽然它是愚蠢和可笑的，然而，对于我却是没有什么，我一定可以取胜。” 
“当然罗，”基督山微微耸一耸肩膀说。“不然我就不会和马尔塞夫先生决斗。我要杀死他，这是没有办法的事。只要今天晚是写一张字笺送到我家里来，让我知道决斗的武器和时间就行了，我不愿意花太多的时间等待。” 
“那末，是用手枪，八点钟，在万森树林。”波尚神情狼狈地说，不知道对方究竟是一个傲慢的自大者还是一个超人。 
“好极了，阁下，”基督山说，“现在一切都已解决了，请让我看一剧吧，并且请您告诉你的朋友阿尔贝，今天晚上请他不要再来了，他这种粗鲁野蛮的行为只会伤害他自己。让他回家先养精蓄锐吧。”波尚惊愕地离开了包厢。“现在，”基督山转过去对莫雷尔说，“可以指望你当我们的证人，是吗？” 
“当然啊，”莫雷尔说，“愿意听从你的吩咐，伯爵，可是——” 
“可是什么？” 
“我想我应该知道真正的原因。” 
“那是说，您拒绝我了？” 
“不。” 
“真正的原因吗？莫雷尔，阿尔贝本人也是盲目地在干，他也不知道真正的原因。真正的原因只有上帝和我知道。但我可以向您保证，莫雷尔，上帝不仅知道原因，而且是站在我们这一边。” 
“那就够了，”莫雷尔说，“谁是您的第二个陪证人？” 
“莫雷尔，除了您和您的妹夫艾曼纽以外，我在巴黎所认识的人没有一个可以享受这种光荣。您以为艾曼纽会答应我的要求吗？” 
“我可以替他答应您，伯爵。” 
“好，这就是我所需要的一切了。明天早晨，七点钟，你们一块到我这儿来，好不好？” 
“我们一定来。” 
“嘘！开幕了。听！这个歌剧我尽可能听一个字都不让它漏过的，《威廉·退尔》这支曲子真是太美妙！” 
Chapter 89 A Nocturnal Interview
 MONTE CRISTO waited, according to his usual custom, until Duprez had sung his famous "Suivez-moi;" then he rose and went out. Morrel took leave of him at the door, renewing his promise to be with him the next morning at seven o'clock, and to bring Emmanuel. Then he stepped into his coupé, calm and smiling, and was at home in five minutes. No one who knew the count could mistake his expression when, on entering, he said, "Ali, bring me my pistols with the ivory cross." 
Ali brought the box to his master, who examined the weapons with a solicitude very natural to a man who is about to intrust his life to a little powder and shot. These were pistols of an especial pattern, which Monte Cristo had had made for target practice in his own room. A cap was sufficient to drive out the bullet, and from the adjoining room no one would have suspected that the count was, as sportsmen would say, keeping his hand in. He was just taking one up and looking for the point to aim at on a little iron plate which served him as a target, when his study door opened, and Baptistin entered. Before he had spoken a word, the count saw in the next room a veiled woman, who had followed closely after Baptistin, and now, seeing the count with a pistol in his hand and swords on the table, rushed in. Baptistin looked at his master, who made a sign to him, and he went out, closing the door after him. "Who are you, madame?" said the count to the veiled woman. 
The stranger cast one look around her, to be certain that they were quite alone; then bending as if she would have knelt, and joining her hands, she said with an accent of despair, "Edmond, you will not kill my son?" The count retreated a step, uttered a slight exclamation, and let fall the pistol he held. "What name did you pronounce then, Madame de Morcerf?" said he. "Yours!" cried she, throwing back her veil,--"yours, which I alone, perhaps, have not forgotten. Edmond, it is not Madame de Morcerf who is come to you, it is Mercédès." 
"Mercédès is dead, madame," said Monte Cristo; "I know no one now of that name." 
"Mercédès lives, sir, and she remembers, for she alone recognized you when she saw you, and even before she saw you, by your voice, Edmond,--by the simple sound of your voice; and from that moment she has followed your steps, watched you, feared you, and she needs not to inquire what hand has dealt the blow which now strikes M. de Morcerf." 
"Fernand, do you mean?" replied Monte Cristo, with bitter irony; "since we are recalling names, let us remember them all." Monte Cristo had pronounced the name of Fernand with such an expression of hatred that Mercédès felt a thrill of horror run through every vein. "You see, Edmond, I am not mistaken, and have cause to say, 'Spare my son!'" 
"And who told you, madame, that I have any hostile intentions against your son?" 
"No one, in truth; but a mother has twofold sight. I guessed all; I followed him this evening to the opera, and, concealed in a parquet box, have seen all." 
"If you have seen all, madame, you know that the son of Fernand has publicly insulted me," said Monte Cristo with awful calmness. 
"Oh, for pity's sake!" 
"You have seen that he would have thrown his glove in my face if Morrel, one of my friends, had not stopped him." 
"Listen to me, my son has also guessed who you are,--he attributes his father's misfortunes to you." 
"Madame, you are mistaken, they are not misfortunes,--it is a punishment. It is not I who strike M. de Morcerf; it is providence which punishes him." 
"And why do you represent providence?" cried Mercédès. "Why do you remember when it forgets? What are Yanina and its vizier to you, Edmond? What injury his Fernand Mondego done you in betraying Ali Tepelini?" 
"Ah, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "all this is an affair between the French captain and the daughter of Vasiliki. It does not concern me, you are right; and if I have sworn to revenge myself, it is not on the French captain, or the Count of Morcerf, but on the fisherman Fernand, the husband of Mercédès the Catalane." 
"Ah, sir!" cried the countess, "how terrible a vengeance for a fault which fatality made me commit!--for I am the only culprit, Edmond, and if you owe revenge to any one, it is to me, who had not fortitude to bear your absence and my solitude." 
"But," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "why was I absent? And why were you alone?" 
"Because you had been arrested, Edmond, and were a prisoner." 
"And why was I arrested? Why was I a prisoner?" 
"I do not know," said Mercédès. "You do not, madame; at least, I hope not. But I will tell you. I was arrested and became a prisoner because, under the arbor of La Rèserve, the day before I was to marry you, a man named Danglars wrote this letter, which the fisherman Fernand himself posted." Monte Cristo went to a secretary, opened a drawer by a spring, from which he took a paper which had lost its original color, and the ink of which had become of a rusty hue--this he placed in the hands of Mercédès. It was Danglars' letter to the king's attorney, which the Count of Monte Cristo, disguised as a clerk from the house of Thomson & French, had taken from the file against Edmond Dantès, on the day he had paid the two hundred thousand francs to M. de Boville. Mercédès read with terror the following lines:-- 
"The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion that one Edmond Dantès, second in command on board the Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, is the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper, and of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantès, who either carries the letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father's abode. Should it not be found in possession of either father or son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantès on board the Pharaon." 
"How dreadful!" said Mercédès, passing her hand across her brow, moist with perspiration; "and that letter"-- 
"I bought it for two hundred thousand francs, madame," said Monte Cristo; "but that is a trifle, since it enables me to justify myself to you." 
"And the result of that letter"-- 
"You well know, madame, was my arrest; but you do not know how long that arrest lasted. You do not know that I remained for fourteen years within a quarter of a league of you, in a dungeon in the Chateau d'If. You do not know that every day of those fourteen years I renewed the vow of vengeance which I had made the first day; and yet I was not aware that you had married Fernand, my calumniator, and that my father had died of hunger!" 
"Can it be?" cried Mercédès, shuddering. 
"That is what I heard on leaving my prison fourteen years after I had entered it; and that is why, on account of the living Mercédès and my deceased father, I have sworn to revenge myself on Fernand, and--I have revenged myself." 
"And you are sure the unhappy Fernand did that?" 
"I am satisfied, madame, that he did what I have told you; besides, that is not much more odious than that a Frenchman by adoption should pass over to the English; that a Spaniard by birth should have fought against the Spaniards; that a stipendiary of Ali should have betrayed and murdered Ali. Compared with such things, what is the letter you have just read?--a lover's deception, which the woman who has married that man ought certainly to forgive; but not so the lover who was to have married her. Well, the French did not avenge themselves on the traitor, the Spaniards did not shoot the traitor, Ali in his tomb left the traitor unpunished; but I, betrayed, sacrificed, buried, have risen from my tomb, by the grace of God, to punish that man. He sends me for that purpose, and here I am." The poor woman's head and arms fell; her legs bent under her, and she fell on her knees. "Forgive, Edmond, forgive for my sake, who love you still!" 
The dignity of the wife checked the fervor of the lover and the mother. Her forehead almost touched the carpet, when the count sprang forward and raised her. Then seated on a chair, she looked at the manly countenance of Monte Cristo, on which grief and hatred still impressed a threatening expression. "Not crush that accursed race?" murmured he; "abandon my purpose at the moment of its accomplishment? Impossible, madame, impossible!" 
"Edmond," said the poor mother, who tried every means, "when I call you Edmond, why do you not call me Mercédès?" 
"Mercédès!" repeated Monte Cristo; "Mercédès! Well yes, you are right; that name has still its charms, and this is the first time for a long period that I have pronounced it so distinctly. Oh, Mercédès, I have uttered your name with the sigh of melancholy, with the groan of sorrow, with the last effort of despair; I have uttered it when frozen with cold, crouched on the straw in my dungeon; I have uttered it, consumed with heat, rolling on the stone floor of my prison. Mercédès, I must revenge myself, for I suffered fourteen years,--fourteen years I wept, I cursed; now I tell you, Mercédès, I must revenge myself." 
The count, fearing to yield to the entreaties of her he had so ardently loved, called his sufferings to the assistance of his hatred. "Revenge yourself, then, Edmond," cried the poor mother; "but let your vengeance fall on the culprits,--on him, on me, but not on my son!" 
"It is written in the good book," said Monte Cristo, "that the sins of the fathers shall fall upon their children to the third and fourth generation. Since God himself dictated those words to his prophet, why should I seek to make myself better than God?" 
"Edmond," continued Mercédès, with her arms extended towards the count, "since I first knew you, I have adored your name, have respected your memory. Edmond, my friend, do not compel me to tarnish that noble and pure image reflected incessantly on the mirror of my heart. Edmond, if you knew all the prayers I have addressed to God for you while I thought you were living and since I have thought you must be dead! Yes, dead, alas! I imagined your dead body buried at the foot of some gloomy tower, or cast to the bottom of a pit by hateful jailers, and I wept! What could I do for you, Edmond, besides pray and weep? Listen; for ten years I dreamed each night the same dream. I had been told that you had endeavored to escape; that you had taken the place of another prisoner; that you had slipped into the winding sheet of a dead body; that you had been thrown alive from the top of the Chateau d'If, and that the cry you uttered as you dashed upon the rocks first revealed to your jailers that they were your murderers. Well, Edmond, I swear to you, by the head of that son for whom I entreat your pity,--Edmond, for ten years I saw every night every detail of that frightful tragedy, and for ten years I heard every night the cry which awoke me, shuddering and cold. And I, too, Edmond--oh! believe me--guilty as I was--oh, yes, I, too, have suffered much!" 
"Have you known what it is to have your father starve to death in your absence?" cried Monte Cristo, thrusting his hands into his hair; "have you seen the woman you loved giving her hand to your rival, while you were perishing at the bottom of a dungeon?" 
"No," interrupted Mercédès, "but I have seen him whom I loved on the point of murdering my son." Mercédès uttered these words with such deep anguish, with an accent of such intense despair, that Monte Cristo could not restrain a sob. The lion was daunted; the avenger was conquered. "What do you ask of me?" said he,--"your son's life? Well, he shall live!" Mercédès uttered a cry which made the tears start from Monte Cristo's eyes; but these tears disappeared almost instantaneously, for, doubtless, God had sent some angel to collect them--far more precious were they in his eyes than the richest pearls of Guzerat and Ophir. 
"Oh," said she, seizing the count's hand and raising it to her lips; "oh, thank you, thank you, Edmond! Now you are exactly what I dreamt you were,--the man I always loved. Oh, now I may say so!" 
"So much the better," replied Monte Cristo; "as that poor Edmond will not have long to be loved by you. Death is about to return to the tomb, the phantom to retire in darkness." 
"What do you say, Edmond?" 
"I say, since you command me, Mercédès, I must die." 
"Die? and why so? Who talks of dying? Whence have you these ideas of death?" 
"You do not suppose that, publicly outraged in the face of a whole theatre, in the presence of your friends and those of your son--challenged by a boy who will glory in my forgiveness as if it were a victory--you do not suppose that I can for one moment wish to live. What I most loved after you, Mercédès, was myself, my dignity, and that strength which rendered me superior to other men; that strength was my life. With one word you have crushed it, and I die." 
"But the duel will not take place, Edmond, since you forgive?" 
"It will take place," said Monte Cristo, in a most solemn tone; "but instead of your son's blood to stain the ground, mine will flow." Mercédès shrieked, and sprang towards Monte Cristo, but, suddenly stopping, "Edmond," said she, "there is a God above us, since you live and since I have seen you again; I trust to him from my heart. While waiting his assistance I trust to your word; you have said that my son should live, have you not?" 
"Yes, madame, he shall live," said Monte Cristo, surprised that without more emotion Mercédès had accepted the heroic sacrifice he made for her. Mercédès extended her hand to the count. 
"Edmond," said she, and her eyes were wet with tears while looking at him to whom she spoke, "how noble it is of you, how great the action you have just performed, how sublime to have taken pity on a poor woman who appealed to you with every chance against her, Alas, I am grown old with grief more than with years, and cannot now remind my Edmond by a smile, or by a look, of that Mercédès whom he once spent so many hours in contemplating. Ah, believe me, Edmond, as I told you, I too have suffered much; I repeat, it is melancholy to pass one's life without having one joy to recall, without preserving a single hope; but that proves that all is not yet over. No, it is not finished; I feel it by what remains in my heart. Oh, I repeat it, Edmond; what you have just done is beautiful--it is grand; it is sublime." 
"Do you say so now, Mercédès?--then what would you say if you knew the extent of the sacrifice I make to you? Suppose that the Supreme Being, after having created the world and fertilized chaos, had paused in the work to spare an angel the tears that might one day flow for mortal sins from her immortal eyes; suppose that when everything was in readiness and the moment had come for God to look upon his work and see that it was good--suppose he had snuffed out the sun and tossed the world back into eternal night--then--even then, Mercédès, you could not imagine what I lose in sacrificing my life at this moment." Mercédès looked at the count in a way which expressed at the same time her astonishment, her admiration, and her gratitude. Monte Cristo pressed his forehead on his burning hands, as if his brain could no longer bear alone the weight of its thoughts. "Edmond," said Mercédès, "I have but one word more to say to you." The count smiled bitterly. "Edmond," continued she, "you will see that if my face is pale, if my eyes are dull, if my beauty is gone; if Mercédès, in short, no longer resembles her former self in her features, you will see that her heart is still the same. Adieu, then, Edmond; I have nothing more to ask of heaven--I have seen you again, and have found you as noble and as great as formerly you were. Adieu, Edmond, adieu, and thank you." 
But the count did not answer. Mercédès opened the door of the study and had disappeared before he had recovered from the painful and profound revery into which his thwarted vengeance had plunged him. The clock of the Invalides struck one when the carriage which conveyed Madame de Morcerf away rolled on the pavement of the Champs-Elysées, and made Monte Cristo raise his head. "What a fool I was," said he, "not to tear my heart out on the day when I resolved to avenge myself!"  
基督山先生按照他往常的习惯，一直等到本普里兹唱完了他那曲最有名的《随我来》，才起身离开。莫雷尔在门口等他与他告别，并再一次向他保证，说第二天早晨七点钟一定和艾曼纽一同来。于是伯爵面带着微笑稳步地跨进车厢，五分钟以后回到家里。一进家门，他说说：“阿里，把我那对象牙十字的手枪拿来。”他说这句话的时候，凡是认识而且了解他的人，是决不会误解他脸上那种表情的。 
阿里把枪拿来交给他的主人，带着当一个人快要把他的生命托付给一小片铁和铅的时候那种关切的神情仔细地检查他的武器。这只手枪，是基督山特地定制的用它在房间里练习打靶用的。轻轻一推，弹丸便会飞出枪膛，而隔壁房间里谁也不会猜到伯爵正在如打靶家听说的那样练过。”当他正把一支枪拿在手里，瞄准那只作为靶子用的小铁盆的时候，书房的门开了，巴浦斯汀走了进来。还没等他说话，伯爵就看见门口——门没有关——有一个头罩面纱的女人站在巴浦斯汀的后面。那女人看见伯爵手里握着枪，桌上放着剑，便冲了进来。巴浦斯汀望着他的主人，伯爵示意他一下，他便退出房间，随手把门关上。“您是谁，夫人？”伯爵对那个蒙面的女人说。 
来客向四周环视了一下，确定房间里只有他们两个人时，便紧合双手，弯下身体，象是跪下来似的，用一种绝望的口气说：“爱德蒙，请你不要杀死我的儿子！” 
伯爵退了一步，轻轻地喊了一声，手枪从他的手里掉了下来。“您刚才说的是什么，马尔塞夫夫人？”他说。 
“你的名字！”她喊道，把她的面纱撩到到脑后面，—— 
“你的名字，或许只有我一个人还没有忘记这个名字。爱德蒙，现在来见你的不是马尔塞夫夫人，而是美塞苔丝。” 
“美塞苔丝还活着，伯爵，而且她还记得你，因为她刚见你就认出了你，甚至在还没有你的时候，她就从你的声音——从你说话的声音——认出了你，爱德蒙，从那个时候起，她就步步紧跟着你，注视着你，而她不用问就知道是谁给了马尔塞夫先生现在所受的打击。” 
“夫人，你的意思是指弗尔南多吧，”基督山以苦涩讥讽口气回答，“既然我们在回忆当年的名字，我们就把它们全都回忆起来吧。” 
当基督山说到弗尔南多这个名字的时候，他的脸上露出十分憎恨的表情，这使美塞苔丝觉得有一股恐怖的寒流流进她全身骨骼。“你瞧，爱德蒙，我并没有弄错，我有理由说，“饶了我的儿子吧。’” 
“谁告诉您，夫人，说我恨您的儿子？” 
“谁都没有告诉我，但一个母亲是有一种双重直觉的。我已经猜出了，今天晚上，我跟踪他到剧院里，看到了一切。” 
“假如您看到了一切，夫人，您就会知道弗尔南多的儿子当众羞辱了我。”基督山用十分平静的口气说。 
“噢，发发慈悲吧！” 
“您看到，要不是我的朋友摩莱拦住了他，他可能已经把他的手套摔到我的脸上来了。” 
“听我说，我的儿子也已猜出你是谁，他把他父亲的不幸全怪罪到你身上来了。” 
“夫人，你弄错了，那不是一种不幸。而是一种惩罚，不是我在惩罚马尔塞夫先生，而是上帝在惩罚他。” 
“而为什么你要代表上帝呢？”美塞苔丝喊道，“当上帝已经忘记这一切，你为什么还记着呢？亚尼纳和它的总督与你有什么关系呢，爱德蒙？弗尔南多·蒙台哥出卖阿里·铁贝林，这些让你有什么损失吗？” 
“不错，夫人，”基督山答道，“这一切都是那法国军官和凡瑟丽姬的女儿之间的事情。这一切和我毫无关系，您说不错。如果我曾经发誓要为我自己复仇的话，则我的复仇对象绝不是那个法国军官，也不是马尔塞夫伯爵，而是迦太兰人美塞苔丝的丈夫渔人弗尔南多。” 
“啊，伯爵，”伯爵夫人喊道，“恶运让我犯下的这桩过错是该得到这可怕的报复的！因我是有罪的人，爱德蒙，假如你必须向人报告的话，就应该向我报复，因为我不够坚强，不能忍受寂寞和孤独。” 
“但是，”基督山叹了口气说“为什么我会离开您？您为什么会孤独呢？” 
“因为你被捕了，爱德蒙，因为你成了一个囚徒。” 
“为什么我会被捕？为什么我会变成一个囚徒呢？” 
“我不知道。”美塞苔丝说。 
“您确实不知道，夫人，至少，我希望您不知道。但我现在可以告诉您。我之所以被捕和变成一个囚徒，是因为在我要和您结婚的前一天，在里瑟夫酒家的凉棚下面，一个名叫腾格拉尔的人写了这封信，而那个打渔的弗尔南多亲手把它投入了邮筒。” 
基督山走到一张写字台前面，打开抽屉，从抽屉里取出一张纸来，纸张已失去原来的色泽，墨水也已变成铁锈色；他把这张文件拿给美塞苔丝。这就是腾格拉尔写给检察官的那封信，是基督山装扮成汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的代理人，付给波维里先生二十万法郎，那一天从爱德蒙·唐太斯的档案里抽出来的。美塞苔丝惊恐万分地读下去：“‘阁下，——敝人系拥护王室及教地之人士，兹报告检察官，有爱德蒙·唐太斯其人，系法老号之人副，今晨从士麦拿经那不勒斯抵埠，中途曾停靠费拉约港。此人受缪拉之命送信给叛贼，并受逆贼命令送信给巴黎拿破仑党委员会。犯罪证据在将其逮捕时即可获得，假始信不在其身上，则必在其父家中，或在其法老号之船舱内。’” 
“噢，我的上帝！”美塞苔丝说，用手抹一抹她大汗淋漓的额头。“这封信——” 
“这是我用二十万法郎买来的，夫人，”基督山说，“但这只是小意思，我今天就可以在您面前证明我是无辜的。” 
“这封信的结果怎么样？” 
“你知道得很清楚，夫人，就是我被捕了，但您不知道那次我在监狱呆了多久。您不知道十四年来，我始终在离您一哩以内的地方，伊夫堡的一间黑牢里。您不知道，这十四年中，我每天都要重述一遍我的誓言，我要复仇，可是我不知您已经嫁给了了诬告我的弗尔南多，也不知道我的父亲已经饿死了！” 
“公正的上帝！”美塞苔丝浑身发抖地喊道。 
“当我在狱里呆了十四年以后，在我离开牢房的时候就听到了那两个消息，而正是为了这个原因，为了美塞苔丝的生和我父亲的死，我发誓一定要向弗尔南多复仇，我现在就是在为我自己复仇。” 
“您确定这一切都是可怜的弗尔南多干的吗？” 
“夫人，我确实知道他干了那些事情。而且，他还干过更见不得人的事，他身为法国公民，却去投靠英国人。他的祖籍是西班牙人，他竟会参加攻打西班牙人的战争。受恩于阿里，他竟会出卖和杀害了阿里。跟这些丑事相比，您刚才所读的那封信算什么？这是一个情人的圈套，利用这种圈套，他与那个人结婚。那个女人或许可以宽恕，但是本来娶她的那个情人却不容忍这一切。好吧！法国人并没有向那个叛徒复仇，西班牙人也没有枪毙那个叛徒，已经死了的阿里也没有惩罚那个叛徒。但是我，被出卖、被杀害、被埋葬的我，也早已受上帝慈悲把我从坟墓里救出来惩罚那个人。上帝派我来就是复仇，而我现在来了。” 
那可怜的女人把头一下埋在自己的双手之中，她的腿实在支持不住了。 
但妻子的尊严阻止了她充当情人和母亲的冲动。当伯爵跑上去把她扶起来的时候，她的额头几乎要触到地毯了。然后，她坐在一张椅子里，望着基督山先生那刚毅的脸，在那张脸上，悲痛和忌恨的表情仍然显得很可怕。 
“让我不去毁灭这个家伙！”他低声地说，“上帝把我从死境里救出来，就是要我来惩罚他们，而我竟不服从上帝的指令！不可能，夫人，这决不可能的！” 
“爱德蒙，”那可怜的母亲说，她换了一种方式，“当我称唤你爱德蒙的时候，你为什么不称我美塞苔丝呢？” 
“美塞苔丝！”基督山把那个名字重复一遍，“美塞苔丝，嗯，是的，你说得对，好个名字依旧还有它的魅力，很久以来，这是我第一次以这样声音地叫出这个名字。噢，美塞苔丝！我曾在满怀惆怅的悲叹声中，在伤心的呻吟声中，绝望的呼喊你的名字。在寒风刺骨的冬天，我曾蜷伏在黑牢的草堆里呼喊它。当酷暑难当时，我曾在监狱的石板上滚来滚去地呼喊它。美塞苔丝，我必须要为自己复仇，因为我受了十四年苦，——十四年中，我哭泣过，我诅咒过，现在我告诉你，美塞苔丝，我必须要为我自己复仇了！” 
因为他曾热烈地爱过她，他深怕自己会被她的恳求软化，就回忆起他当时受苦的情形来帮助自己坚定仇恨。“那末就为你自己复仇吧，爱德蒙，”那可怜的母亲哭道。“你应该让你的报复落到罪人的头上——你去报复他，报复我，但不要报复我的儿子！” 
“圣经上写道，”基督山答道，“父亲的罪将会落到他们第三第四代儿女身上。上帝在他的预言里都说了这些话，我为什么要比上帝更仁慈呢？” 
“因为上帝拥有时间和永恒，——人却无法拥有这两样东西。” 
基督山发出一声呻吟似的长叹，双手抓紧了他的头发。 
“爱德蒙，”美塞苔丝向伯爵伸出双手，继续说，“自从认识你开始，我就喜欢你的名字，并时常想起你。爱德蒙，我的朋友，不要打碎我心里时刻保持着的那个高贵而又美好的形象。爱德蒙，假如你听到过我向上帝诉说的种种祈祷，那就好了，我那时多么希望你还活着，但我想你一定已经死了！是的，死了，唉！我想你的身体早已被埋在一座阴森森的塔底，我以为你的尸体已被扔落到狱卒死尸的一个洞底下。于是我哭了！爱德蒙，除了祈祷和哭泣外，我还能为你做些什么呢？听着，十年来，我每天晚上部做着同样的梦。我听说你企图逃跑，听说你冒充另外一个犯人，听说你钻进包尸体布袋里，听说你在伊夫堡的顶上活生生地被人扔下去，听说你撞到岩石上时发出惨叫声，这惨叫声向埋葬者证明了死尸已被代替，他们又变成了害你的人。哦，爱德蒙，我向你发誓，凭我现在恳求你饶恕我的儿子的生命发誓，——爱德蒙，这十年来，我每天晚上都看到有人在一岩山顶上晃悠一个不可名状的东西。在这十年来，我每天晚上都被一种可怕的喊声叫醒，醒来时浑身颤抖冰冷。爱德蒙，——噢，相信我！——尽管我有罪，噢，是的，我也受了那么多的痛苦！” 
“你可曾尝过你父亲在你离开时死去的滋味吗？”基督山把双手插进头发里，喊道，“你可曾见过你所爱的女人嫁给你的情敌而你自己却在不见天日的一间黑牢里奄奄待毙吗？” 
“没有，”美塞苔丝说，“但我看见我所爱的那个人将要杀死我的儿子了。” 
美塞苔丝说这句话的时候，她的神情是那样的痛苦不堪，她用十分无望的口气说，以至基督山再也控制不住自己，失声哭泣起来。狮子终于被驯服了；复仇者终于被征服了。“你要求我做什么呢？”他说，“你儿子的生命吗？现在，他可以活下去了！” 
美塞苔丝发出一声惊奇的欢叫，这一声喊叫使基督山禁不住热泪盈眶；但这些眼泪很快就消了，因为上帝或许已派了一个天使来把它们收了去，——在上帝的眼睛里，这种眼泪是比古西拉和奥费亚［古代盛产金子、象牙和珍珠的地方。——译注］两地最圆润的珍珠更宝贵。 
“噢！”她说，一边抓住伯爵的手，按到她的嘴唇上，“噢，谢谢你，谢谢你，爱德蒙！现在你真是我梦中的你了，真是始终所爱的你了。噢！现在我可以这样说了。” 
“那太好了，”基督山答道，“因为爱德蒙不会让你爱久了。死者就回到坟墓中，幽灵就要回到黑暗里。” 
“你说什么，爱德蒙？” 
“我说，既然你命令我死，美塞苔丝，我就只有死了。” 
“死！那是谁说的？谁说你要死？你这种念头是从哪儿来的？” 
“你想，在歌剧院里当着全体观众的面，当着你的朋友和你儿子的那些朋友面前我受到公开的侮辱，——受到一个小孩子的挑战，他会把我的宽恕大度当作胜利，——你想，我怎么还有脸面再活下去呢？美塞苔丝，除了你以外，我最爱的便是我自己、我的尊严和使我超越其他人的那种力量，那种力量就是我的生命。你用一个字就推毁了它，我当然要死了。” 
“但是，爱德蒙，既然你宽恕了他，那场决斗就不会举行了吗？” 
“要举行的，”基督山用十分重的口气说，“但流到地上的血不会是你儿子的而是我的了。” 
美塞苔丝失声惊叫一声，向基督山冲过来，但突然停住了脚步。“爱德蒙，”她说，“我们的头上都有上帝，既然你还活着，既然我又见到了你，我就真心诚意地相信你。在等待他的帮助时，我相信你的话。你说我的儿子可以活下去，是不是？” 
“是的，夫人，他可以活下去。”基督山说，他很惊讶美塞苔丝竟能那样冷静地接受了他为她所作的这种视死如归的牺牲。 
美塞苔丝把她的手伸给伯爵。“爱德蒙，”她说，当她望着他的时候，已经热泪盈眶。“爱德蒙，你是多么高贵呀，你刚才所作的举动是那么的高尚，对一个无依无靠的可怜女人，你仍然给予同情，这是多崇高呀！唉！我老了，变老的倒不是年月而是忧伤。现在，我不能再以一个微笑或一个眼光使我的爱德蒙想起他曾花过那么多时间默默凝视的美塞苔丝了。啊，相信我，爱德蒙，告诉你，我受了多少痛苦。我再说一遍，当一个觉得生命中没有一件愉快的事值得回忆，也没有一点希望时，这该有多么伤心，但这也证明了世间的一切尚未了结。不，一切还未了结，我从心里现在存在的情感里就知道这一点。噢！我再说一遍，爱德蒙，你刚才宽恕的行动多高尚，多么伟大崇高！” 
“你这么说，美塞苔丝，要是你知道了我为你所作的牺牲有多大，你又该怎样说呢？假若那至高无上的主，在创造了世界，澄清了一切以后，恐怕一位天使会因为我们凡人的罪恶而流泪，因此会停止他的创世工作，假若在一切都已准备齐全，一切都已成形，一切都已欣欣向荣以后，当他正在欣赏他的工作的时候，上帝熄灭了太阳，一脚把世界又赐入到永远的黑暗里，只有在那时，你对于我此时所丧失的是什么，或许可以有一个了解，不，不，即使那时你还是无法体会到这一切。” 
美塞苔丝带着一种惊愕、崇拜和感激的神情望着伯爵。基督山把他的脸紧埋在他那双滚烫的双手里，好象他的脑子已不能受这样沉重的思想负担。 
“爱德蒙，”美塞苔丝说，“我还有一句话要对你说。”伯爵的脸上露出痛苦的微笑。“爱德蒙，”她继续说，“你将来或许可以知道，假如我的脸已变得苍白，我的眼已变得迟钝，我的美丽已经消逝，总之，假如美塞苔丝在外貌上已经和她以前不再相象，——你将来会知道，她的心依旧象以前一样。那末，再会了，爱德蒙。我对上天不再有所求了。我又见到了你，已经发觉你还是象以前那样的高贵和伟大。再会了，爱德蒙，再会了，而且谢谢你！” 
但伯爵并不回答。复仇变成了泡影，使他陷入一种痛苦难受的恍惚状态中去，在他还没有从这种恍惚状态中醒来，美塞苔丝已打开书房的门出去了，当马车载着马尔塞夫夫人在香榭丽舍大道上驶去的时候，残废军人院钟敲响了半夜一点的钟声；钟声使基督山抬起头来。“我多么傻呀，”他说，“在我决心要为自己复仇的那一天，我为什么没有把我的心摘下来呢！” 
Chapter 90 The Meeting
 AFTER MERCéDèS had left Monte Cristo, he fell into profound gloom. Around him and within him the flight of thought seemed to have stopped; his energetic mind slumbered, as the body does after extreme fatigue. "What?" said he to himself, while the lamp and the wax lights were nearly burnt out, and the servants were waiting impatiently in the anteroom; "what? this edifice which I have been so long preparing, which I have reared with so much care and toil, is to be crushed by a single touch, a word, a breath! Yes, this self, of whom I thought so much, of whom I was so proud, who had appeared so worthless in the dungeons of the Chateau d'If, and whom I had succeeded in making so great, will be but a lump of clay to-morrow. Alas, it is not the death of the body I regret; for is not the destruction of the vital principle, the repose to which everything is tending, to which every unhappy being aspires,--is not this the repose of matter after which I so long sighed, and which I was seeking to attain by the painful process of starvation when Faria appeared in my dungeon? What is death for me? One step farther into rest,--two, perhaps, into silence. 
"No, it is not existence, then, that I regret, but the ruin of projects so slowly carried out, so laboriously framed. Providence is now opposed to them, when I most thought it would be propitious. It is not God's will that they should be accomplished. This burden, almost as heavy as a world, which I had raised, and I had thought to bear to the end, was too great for my strength, and I was compelled to lay it down in the middle of my career. Oh, shall I then, again become a fatalist, whom fourteen years of despair and ten of hope had rendered a believer in providence? And all this--all this, because my heart, which I thought dead, was only sleeping; because it has awakened and has begun to beat again, because I have yielded to the pain of the emotion excited in my breast by a woman's voice. Yet," continued the count, becoming each moment more absorbed in the anticipation of the dreadful sacrifice for the morrow, which Mercédès had accepted, "yet, it is impossible that so noble-minded a woman should thus through selfishness consent to my death when I am in the prime of life and strength; it is impossible that she can carry to such a point maternal love, or rather delirium. There are virtues which become crimes by exaggeration. No, she must have conceived some pathetic scene; she will come and throw herself between us; and what would be sublime here will there appear ridiculous." The blush of pride mounted to the count's forehead as this thought passed through his mind. "Ridiculous?" repeated he; "and the ridicule will fall on me. I ridiculous? No, I would rather die." 
By thus exaggerating to his own mind the anticipated ill-fortune of the next day, to which he had condemned himself by promising Mercédès to spare her son, the count at last exclaimed, "Folly, folly, folly!--to carry generosity so far as to put myself up as a mark for that young man to aim at. He will never believe that my death was suicide; and yet it is important for the honor of my memory,--and this surely is not vanity, but a justifiable pride,--it is important the world should know that I have consented, by my free will, to stop my arm, already raised to strike, and that with the arm which has been so powerful against others I have struck myself. It must be; it shall be." 
Seizing a pen, he drew a paper from a secret drawer in his desk, and wrote at the bottom of the document (which was no other than his will, made since his arrival in Paris) a sort of codicil, clearly explaining the nature of his death. "I do this, O my God," said he, with his eyes raised to heaven, "as much for thy honor as for mine. I have during ten years considered myself the agent of thy vengeance, and other wretches, like Morcerf, Danglars, Villefort, even Morcerf himself, must not imagine that chance has freed them from their enemy. Let them know, on the contrary, that their punishment, which had been decreed by providence, is only delayed by my present determination, and although they escape it in this world, it awaits them in another, and that they are only exchanging time for eternity." 
While he was thus agitated by gloomy uncertainties,--wretched waking dreams of grief,--the first rays of morning pierced his windows, and shone upon the pale blue paper on which he had just inscribed his justification of providence. It was just five o'clock in the morning when a slight noise like a stifled sigh reached his ear. He turned his head, looked around him, and saw no one; but the sound was repeated distinctly enough to convince him of its reality. 
He arose, and quietly opening the door of the drawing-room, saw Haidée, who had fallen on a chair, with her arms hanging down and her beautiful head thrown back. She had been standing at the door, to prevent his going out without seeing her, until sleep, which the young cannot resist, had overpowered her frame, wearied as she was with watching. The noise of the door did not awaken her, and Monte Cristo gazed at her with affectionate regret. "She remembered that she had a son," said he; "and I forgot I had a daughter." Then, shaking his head sorrowfully, "Poor Haidée," said he; "she wished to see me, to speak to me; she has feared or guessed something. Oh, I cannot go without taking leave of her; I cannot die without confiding her to some one." He quietly regained his seat, and wrote under the other lines:-- 
"I bequeath to Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis,--and son of my former patron, Pierre Morrel, shipowner at Marseilles,--the sum of twenty millions, a part of which may be offered to his sister Julia and brother-in-law Emmanuel, if he does not fear this increase of fortune may mar their happiness. These twenty millions are concealed in my grotto at Monte Cristo, of which Bertuccio knows the secret. If his heart is free, and he will marry Haidée, the daughter of Ali Pasha of Yanina, whom I have brought up with the love of a father, and who has shown the love and tenderness of a daughter for me, he will thus accomplish my last wish. This will has already constituted Haidée heiress of the rest of my fortune, consisting of lands, funds in England, Austria, and Holland, furniture in my different palaces and houses, and which without the twenty millions and the legacies to my servants, may still amount to sixty millions." 
He was finishing the last line when a cry behind him made him start, and the pen fell from his hand. "Haidée," said he. "did you read it?" 
"Oh, my lord," said she, "why are you writing thus at such an hour? Why are you bequeathing all your fortune to me? Are you going to leave me?" 
"I am going on a journey, dear child," said Monte Cristo, with an expression of infinite tenderness and melancholy; "and if any misfortune should happen to me" 
The count stopped. "Well?" asked the young girl, with an authoritative tone the count had never observed before, and which startled him. "Well, if any misfortune happen to me," replied Monte Cristo, "I wish my daughter to be happy." Haidée smiled sorrowfully, and shook her head. "Do you think of dying, my lord?" said she. 
"The wise man, my child, has said, 'It is good to think of death.'" 
"Well, if you die," said she, "bequeath your fortune to others, for if you die I shall require nothing;" and, taking the paper, she tore it in four pieces, and threw it into the middle of the room. Then, the effort having exhausted her strength, she fell not asleep this time, but fainting on the floor. The count leaned over her and raised her in his arms; and seeing that sweet pale face, those lovely eyes closed, that beautiful form motionless and to all appearance lifeless, the idea occurred to him for the first time, that perhaps she loved him otherwise than as a daughter loves a father. 
"Alas," murmured he, with intense suffering, "I might, then, have been happy yet." Then he carried Haidée to her room, resigned her to the care of her attendants, and returning to his study, which he shut quickly this time, he again copied the destroyed will. As he was finishing, the sound of a cabriolet entering the yard was heard. Monte Cristo approached the window, and saw Maximilian and Emmanuel alight. "Good," said he; "it was time,"--and he sealed his will with three seals. A moment afterwards he heard a noise in the drawing-room, and went to open the door himself. Morrel was there; he had come twenty minutes before the time appointed. "I am perhaps come too soon, count," said he, "but I frankly acknowledge that I have not closed my eyes all night, nor has any one in my house. I need to see you strong in your courageous assurance, to recover myself." Monte Cristo could not resist this proof of affection; he not only extended his hand to the young man, but flew to him with open arms. "Morrel," said he, "it is a happy day for me, to feel that I am beloved by such a man as you. Good-morning, Emmanuel; you will come with me then, Maximilian?" 
"Did you doubt it?" said the young captain. 
"But if I were wrong"-- 
"I watched you during the whole scene of that challenge yesterday; I have been thinking of your firmness all night, and I said to myself that justice must be on your side, or man's countenance is no longer to be relied on." 
"But, Morrel, Albert is your friend?" 
"Simply an acquaintance, sir." 
"You met on the same day you first saw me?" 
"Yes, that is true; but I should not have recollected it if you had not reminded me." 
"Thank you, Morrel." Then ringing the bell once, "Look." said he to Ali, who came immediately, "take that to my solicitor. It is my will, Morrel. When I am dead, you will go and examine it." 
"What?" said Morrel, "you dead?" 
"Yes; must I not be prepared for everything, dear friend? But what did you do yesterday after you left me?" 
"I went to Tortoni's, where, as I expected, I found Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud. I own I was seeking them." 
"Why, when all was arranged?" 
"Listen, count; the affair is serious and unavoidable." 
"Did you doubt it!" 
"No; the offence was public, and every one is already talking of it." 
"Well?" 
"Well, I hoped to get an exchange of arms,--to substitute the sword for the pistol; the pistol is blind." 
"Have you succeeded?" asked Monte Cristo quickly, with an imperceptible gleam of hope. 
"No; for your skill with the sword is so well known." 
"Ah?--who has betrayed me?" 
"The skilful swordsman whom you have conquered." 
"And you failed?" 
"They positively refused." 
"Morrel," said the count, "have you ever seen me fire a pistol?" 
"Never." 
"Well, we have time; look." Monte Cristo took the pistols he held in his hand when Mercédès entered, and fixing an ace of clubs against the iron plate, with four shots he successively shot off the four sides of the club. At each shot Morrel turned pale. He examined the bullets with which Monte Cristo performed this dexterous feat, and saw that they were no larger than buckshot. "It is astonishing," said he. "Look, Emmanuel." Then turning towards Monte Cristo, "Count," said he, "in the name of all that is dear to you, I entreat you not to kill Albert!--the unhappy youth has a mother." 
"You are right," said Monte Cristo; "and I have none." These words were uttered in a tone which made Morrel shudder. "You are the offended party, count." 
"Doubtless; what does that imply?" 
"That you will fire first." 
"I fire first?" 
"Oh, I obtained, or rather claimed that; we had conceded enough for them to yield us that." 
"And at what distance?" 
"Twenty paces." A smile of terrible import passed over the count's lips. "Morrel," said he, "do not forget what you have just seen." 
"The only chance for Albert's safety, then, will arise from your emotion." 
"I suffer from emotion?" said Monte Cristo. 
"Or from your generosity, my friend; to so good a marksman as you are, I may say what would appear absurd to another." 
"What is that?" 
"Break his arm--wound him--but do not kill him." 
"I will tell you, Morrel," said the count, "that I do not need entreating to spare the life of M. de Morcerf; he shall be so well spared, that he will return quietly with his two friends, while I"-- 
"And you?" 
"That will be another thing; I shall be brought home." 
"No, no," cried Maximilian, quite unable to restrain his feelings. 
"As I told you, my dear Morrel, M. de Morcerf will kill me." Morrel looked at him in utter amazement. "But what has happened, then, since last evening, count?" 
"The same thing that happened to Brutus the night before the battle of Philippi; I have seen a ghost." 
"And that ghost"-- 
"Told me, Morrel, that I had lived long enough." Maximilian and Emmanuel looked at each other. Monte Cristo drew out his watch. "Let us go," said he; "it is five minutes past seven, and the appointment was for eight o'clock." A carriage was in readiness at the door. Monte Cristo stepped into it with his two friends. He had stopped a moment in the passage to listen at a door, and Maximilian and Emmanuel, who had considerately passed forward a few steps, thought they heard him answer by a sigh to a sob from within. As the clock struck eight they drove up to the place of meeting. "We are first," said Morrel, looking out of the window. "Excuse me, sir," said Baptistin, who had followed his master with indescribable terror, "but I think I see a carriage down there under the trees." 
Monte Cristo sprang lightly from the carriage, and offered his hand to assist Emmanuel and Maximilian. The latter retained the count's hand between his. "I like," said he, "to feel a hand like this, when its owner relies on the goodness of his cause." 
"It seems to me," said Emmanuel, "that I see two young men down there, who are evidently, waiting." Monte Cristo drew Morrel a step or two behind his brother-in-law. "Maximilian," said he, "are your affections disengaged?" Morrel looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment. "I do not seek your confidence, my dear friend. I only ask you a simple question; answer it;--that is all I require." 
"I love a young girl, count." 
"Do you love her much?" 
"More than my life." 
"Another hope defeated!" said the count. Then, with a sigh, "Poor Haidée!" murmured he. 
"To tell the truth, count, if I knew less of you, I should think that you were less brave than you are." 
"Because I sigh when thinking of some one I am leaving? Come, Morrel, it is not like a soldier to be so bad a judge of courage. Do I regret life? What is it to me, who have passed twenty years between life and death? Moreover, do not alarm yourself, Morrel; this weakness, if it is such, is betrayed to you alone. I know the world is a drawing-room, from which we must retire politely and honestly; that is, with a bow, and our debts of honor paid." 
"That is to the purpose. Have you brought your arms?" 
"I?--what for? I hope these gentlemen have theirs." 
"I will inquire," said Morrel. 
"Do; but make no treaty--you understand me?" 
"You need not fear." Morrel advanced towards Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud, who, seeing his intention, came to meet him. The three young men bowed to each other courteously, if not affably. 
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Morrel, "but I do not see M. de Morcerf." 
"He sent us word this morning," replied Chateau-Renaud, "that he would meet us on the ground." 
"Ah," said Morrel. Beauchamp pulled out his watch. "It is only five minutes past eight," said he to Morrel; "there is not much time lost yet." 
"Oh, I made no allusion of that kind," replied Morrel. 
"There is a carriage coming," said Chateau-Renaud. It advanced rapidly along one of the avenues leading towards the open space where they were assembled. "You are doubtless provided with pistols, gentlemen? M. de Monte Cristo yields his right of using his." 
"We had anticipated this kindness on the part of the count," said Beauchamp, "and I have brought some weapons which I bought eight or ten days since, thinking to want them on a similar occasion. They are quite new, and have not yet been used. Will you examine them." 
"Oh, M. Beauchamp, if you assure me that M. de Morcerf does not know these pistols, you may readily believe that your word will be quite sufficient." 
"Gentlemen," said Chateau-Renaud, "it is not Morcerf coming in that carriage;--faith, it is Franz and Debray!" The two young men he announced were indeed approaching. "What chance brings you here, gentlemen?" said Chateau-Renaud, shaking hands with each of them. "Because," said Debray, "Albert sent this morning to request us to come." Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud exchanged looks of astonishment. "I think I understand his reason," said Morrel. 
"What is it?" 
"Yesterday afternoon I received a letter from M. de Morcerf, begging me to attend the opera." 
"And I," said Debray. 
"And I also," said Franz. 
"And we, too," added Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud. 
"Having wished you all to witness the challenge, he now wishes you to be present at the combat." 
"Exactly so," said the young men; "you have probably guessed right." 
"But, after all these arrangements, he does not come himself," said Chateau-Renaud. "Albert is ten minutes after time." 
"There he comes," said Beauchamp, "on horseback, at full gallop, followed by a servant." 
"How imprudent," said Chateau-Renaud, "to come on horseback to fight a duel with pistols, after all the instructions I had given him." "And besides," said Beauchamp, "with a collar above his cravat, an open coat and white waistcoat! Why has he not painted a spot upon his heart?--it would have been more simple." Meanwhile Albert had arrived within ten paces of the group formed by the five young men. He jumped from his horse, threw the bridle on his servant's arms, and joined them. He was pale, and his eyes were red and swollen; it was evident that he had not slept. A shade of melancholy gravity overspread his countenance, which was not natural to him. "I thank you, gentlemen," said he, "for having complied with my request; I feel extremely grateful for this mark of friendship." Morrel had stepped back as Morcerf approached, and remained at a short distance. "And to you also, M. Morrel, my thanks are due. Come, there cannot be too many." 
"Sir," said Maximilian, "you are not perhaps aware that I am M. de Monte Cristo's friend?" 
"I was not sure, but I thought it might be so. So much the better; the more honorable men there are here the better I shall be satisfied." 
"M. Morrel," said Chateau-Renaud, "will you apprise the Count of Monte Cristo that M. de Morcerf is arrived, and we are at his disposal?" Morrel was preparing to fulfil his commission. Beauchamp had meanwhile drawn the box of pistols from the carriage. "Stop, gentlemen," said Albert; "I have two words to say to the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"In private?" asked Morrel. 
"No, sir; before all who are here." 
Albert's witnesses looked at each other. Franz and Debray exchanged some words in a whisper, and Morrel, rejoiced at this unexpected incident, went to fetch the count, who was walking in a retired path with Emmanuel. "What does he want with me?" said Monte Cristo. 
"I do not know, but he wishes to speak to you." 
"Ah?" said Monte Cristo, "I trust he is not going to tempt me by some fresh insult!" 
"I do not think that such is his intention," said Morrel. 
The count advanced, accompanied by Maximilian and Emmanuel. His calm and serene look formed a singular contrast to Albert's grief-stricken face, who approached also, followed by the other four young men. When at three paces distant from each other, Albert and the count stopped. 
"Approach, gentlemen," said Albert; "I wish you not to lose one word of what I am about to have the honor of saying to the Count of Monte Cristo, for it must be repeated by you to all who will listen to it, strange as it may appear to you." 
"Proceed, sir," said the count. 
"Sir," said Albert, at first with a tremulous voice, but which gradually because firmer, "I reproached you with exposing the conduct of M. de Morcerf in Epirus, for guilty as I knew he was, I thought you had no right to punish him; but I have since learned that you had that right. It is not Fernand Mondego's treachery towards Ali Pasha which induces me so readily to excuse you, but the treachery of the fisherman Fernand towards you, and the almost unheard-of miseries which were its consequences; and I say, and proclaim it publicly, that you were justified in revenging yourself on my father, and I, his son, thank you for not using greater severity." 
Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of the spectators of this unexpected scene, it would not have surprised them more than did Albert's declaration. As for Monte Cristo, his eyes slowly rose towards heaven with an expression of infinite gratitude. He could not understand how Albert's fiery nature, of which he had seen so much among the Roman bandits, had suddenly stooped to this humiliation. He recognized the influence of Mercédès, and saw why her noble heart had not opposed the sacrifice she knew beforehand would be useless. "Now, sir," said Albert, "if you think my apology sufficient, pray give me your hand. Next to the merit of infallibility which you appear to possess, I rank that of candidly acknowledging a fault. But this confession concerns me only. I acted well as a man, but you have acted better than man. An angel alone could have saved one of us from death--that angel came from heaven, if not to make us friends (which, alas, fatality renders impossible), at least to make us esteem each other." 
Monte Cristo, with moistened eye, heaving breast, and lips half open, extended to Albert a hand which the latter pressed with a sentiment resembling respectful fear. "Gentlemen," said he, "M. de Monte Cristo receives my apology. I had acted hastily towards him. Hasty actions are generally bad ones. Now my fault is repaired. I hope the world will not call me cowardly for acting as my conscience dictated. But if any one should entertain a false opinion of me," added he, drawing himself up as if he would challenge both friends and enemies, "I shall endeavor to correct his mistake." 
"What happened during the night?" asked Beauchamp of Chateau-Renaud; "we appear to make a very sorry figure here." 
"In truth, what Albert has just done is either very despicable or very noble," replied the baron. 
"What can it mean?" said Debray to Franz. "The Count of Monte Cristo acts dishonorably to M. de Morcerf, and is justified by his son! Had I ten Yaninas in my family, I should only consider myself the more bound to fight ten times." As for Monte Cristo, his head was bent down, his arms were powerless. Bowing under the weight of twenty-four years' reminiscences, he thought not of Albert, of Beauchamp, of Chateau-Renaud, or of any of that group; but he thought of that courageous woman who had come to plead for her son's life, to whom he had offered his, and who had now saved it by the revelation of a dreadful family secret, capable of destroying forever in that young man's heart every feeling of filial piety. 
"Providence still," murmured he; "now only am I fully convinced of being the emissary of God!"  
美塞苔丝离开基督山先生以后，一种凄凉的阴影笼罩了一切。在他的身体和在他的内心，一切的思想全都停滞了，他那强有力的头脑和他的身体都已在极端的疲倦以后隐入了微睡状态。“什么！”当灯油和蜡烛都将燃烧的时候，仆人们在外厅里等得不耐烦了，他对他自己说，——“什么！这座我准备了这么久，那小心和辛苦地建立起来的大厦，竟这样被手指一点，说一句话，一口气，就毁于一旦吗？呃，什么！这个身躯，这个我曾为它费了那么多心机，这样引以自豪，在伊夫堡的黑牢里一文不值而现在我已经把它造成这样伟大的身躯，明天就要变成一堆泥土了吗？唉！我所惋惜的不是肉体的死亡。生命的毁灭使一切都可得到安息，这不正是每一个不幸的人所祈求的吗？肉体的安息不是我所长久盼望的，当法利亚在我的黑牢里出现的时候，我不是也想用痛苦的绝食方法来达到那种目的吗？死只是向安息跨进一步，那对我有什么意义呢？不，生命的终结并不可怕，而是我这样辛辛苦苦长年累月设计出来的计划就这样毁了。我原以为上帝是赞成这些计划的，现在看来实际上他是反对的了！上帝不同意这些计划完成。这个负担，这个几乎象一个世界一样沉重的负担，我曾肩负了，并且以为能负到终点，但实际上它是太沉重了，使我不得不在半路上把它放了下来。噢！十四年的绝望和十年的希望把我造成了一个上帝的信徒，难道我现在又要再成为听凭命运摆布的人？而这一切——这一切都只因为那颗我自以为已经死掉的心其实只是麻木而已，因为它已醒过来又开始跳动，因为一个女人的声音在我的胸膛里跳动所激起的痛苦使我屈从了！可是，”伯爵继续说，他对于美塞苔丝所接受的明天他将为她而忍受那场残酷决斗的恶运感到苦恼，——“可是，一个心地如此高贵的女人，是不可能这样自私地在我身强力壮的时候就让我这样死的呀，母爱，或有母性的疯狂决不会使她走到这一地步！有些美德在过分夸大以后便变成了罪恶。不，她一定已经想好了某种动人的场面，她会插身到我们中间来阻止我们的决斗，而在这时看来是非常崇高的举动，决斗场上便会变得荒诞可笑。”想这一切时，自尊的红晕浮上了伯爵的脸。“荒诞可笑，”他又说，“而那种耻笑将落到我的身上。我将被人耻笑！不，我还是死了的好！” 
伯爵以为他在答应美塞苔丝饶恕她儿子的时候已经判了自己的死刑，而这种厄运被他自己夸大地那么可怕！这样的自怨自艾终于使伯爵大声喊叫起来：“蠢！蠢！蠢！竟慷慨到把自己的身体作为那个青年打靶的目标。他决不会相信我的死只是一种自杀；可是，为了我的荣誉，这当然不是虚荣，而是一种正当的自尊心，我必须让全世界知道，我是自愿放弃了那只已经高举起来准备反击的手，用那只本来准备反击旁人的强有力的手来打击我自己。这是必须的，这是应该的！” 
他抓起一支笔，从书桌的一只秘密抽屉里抽出一张纸来，现在他又附加了很多东西，清清楚楚地解释他死的原因。“噢，我的上帝！”他抬头向天说，“我这样做，是为了我的光荣，也为了您的光荣。十年来，我一向把自己看作复仇的天使。而寻些坏蛋，象马尔塞夫、腾格拉尔、维尔福这种人，不要让他们以为他们的敌人已没有复仇的机会。相反，要让他们知道，他们受罚是上帝的意思，我现在的决定只是延期执行而已。他们虽然在这个世界里逃避了惩罚，但惩罚正在另一个世界里等待他们，这只是时间早晚的问题！” 
当他正在被这些伤心可怕的幻景煎熬的时候，晨曦染白了窗上的玻璃，照亮了他手下的那张淡蓝色的纸。突然，一种轻微的声音传到他耳朵里，听来象是一声窒息的叹息声。他转过头来，向四周环视，看不见人。但那种声音又清晰地传来，使他确信这不是自己的幻觉。他站起身来，静悄悄地打开客厅的门，看见海黛坐在一把椅子上，两手垂下，她那美丽的头无力地向后仰着。她本来是站在门口，准备在伯爵出来的时候见他一面，但因为守等了这么长时间，也那虚弱的身体再也支持不住了，就倒在椅子上睡着了，开门的响声并没有把她惊醒，基督山带着一种充满爱怜的目光凝视她。“她记得她有一个儿子，”他说，“而我却忘记了我有一个女儿。” 
于是，他伤心地摇摇头，“可怜的海黛！”他说，”她想见我，想和我说话，她提心某种事情要发生，已经猜到了明天某种事情要发生。噢！我不能就这样和她告别，我不能不把她托给一个人就这样死掉。”他又回到他的座位上，接下去写道： 
“我把两千万遗赠给我的旧东家马赛船商比埃尔·莫雷尔的儿子驻阿尔及利亚骑兵队长马西米兰·莫雷尔，他可以将其中的一部分转赠给他的妹妹尤莉和妹夫艾曼纽，如果他不认为这种财产的增加会减少他们的快乐的话。这两千万财产藏在我基督山的岩窟里，伯都西奥知道那个岩窟的秘密。如果他还没有心上人的话，他可以和亚尼纳总督阿里的女儿海黛结婚，这样，他就实现了我最后的希望了。海黛是我用一个父亲的爱来抚养她的，而她也象一个女儿一样的爱我。这份遗书已写明海黛继承我其余的财产，——包括我在英国、奥地利与荷兰的土地和资金，以及我各处大夏别墅里的家具；这笔财产，除了那两千万和赠给我仆人的遗产以外，依旧还值六千万。” 
正当他写完最后一行的时候，他身后的一声尖叫把他吓了一跳，笔吓得松手掉了下去。“海黛，”他说，“你都看到了吗？” 
原来海黛早已被照到脸上的曙光唤醒，起身走到伯爵身后，但伯爵并没有听到地毯上那轻微的脚步声。“噢，我的大人，”她说，“你为什么要在这个时候写这种东西呢？你为什么要把你的财产全部遗赠给我呢？难道你要离开我了吗？” 
“我要去旅行一次，好孩子，”基督山带着一种忧郁、充满无限温情地神色说，“如果我遭到任何的不幸——”伯爵停下来。 
“什么？”那青年女郎用一种庄严的语气问，伯爵以前从未见过她用这种口气，这使他吃了一惊。 
“嗯，假如我遇到了任何的不幸，”基督山答道，“我希望我的女儿幸福。” 
海黛苦笑了一下，摇摇头。“你想到死了吗，大人？”她说。 
“那么，如果你死了，”她说，“把你的财产遗赠给别人吧。” 
他把这份遗嘱撕成四片，抛到房子中央。然后，接着精疲力尽了，跌倒在地板上，但这一次不是睡了过去，而是昏了过去。伯爵俯下身去，把她抱起来；望着那个纯净而苍白的面孔，那一双可爱的闭拢的眼睛，那个窈窕的、一动不动的、外表上似乎毫无生气的身体，他忽然有了一个念头；或许她对他的爱并不是一个女儿对一个父亲的爱。 
“唉！”他万分沮丧地喃喃地说，“那末，我本来也许可以得到的。”于是他把海黛抱到她的房间里，吩咐她的待女照顾她，再回到他的书房里；这一次他立刻把门关上，然后把那撕毁的遗嘱重新抄写一遍。当他快要抄完的时候，他听到前院里驶进一辆马车。基督山走到窗口，看见马西米兰和艾曼纽走下车来。“好！”他说，“时间到了。”于是他用三颗火漆封住他的遗嘱。过了一会儿了，他听到客厅里有声音了，就走过去亲自打开门。 
莫雷尔已等在客厅里了，他比约定的时间早来了二十分钟。“我或许来得太早了，伯爵，”他说，“但我坦率地承认，我整夜未眠，我家里的人也都和我一样。我要看到您精力充沛，才能放下心。” 
基督山无法不被感动；但他并不伸手给那青年，却是去拥抱他。“莫雷尔，”他说，“今天是一个快乐的日子，能得到象你这样一个人真挚的爱。早安，艾曼纽，那末你们和我一起去吗，马西米兰？” 
“你还怀疑吗？”那青年队长说。 
“但假如是我错了呢？” 
“在昨天那场挑衅中，我始终注视着你，昨天晚上我整夜地回想你那种坚定的表情，于是我对自己说，正义一定是在你这边的，不然，你是不会那样镇静。” 
“但是，莫雷尔，阿尔贝不是你的朋友吗？” 
“我们只是相识而已，伯爵。” 
“你不是初次见到我的那一天见到他的吗？” 
“是的，不错，要不是你提醒我，我已记不得了。” 
“谢谢你，莫雷尔。”然后按了一下门铃，“喂，”他对进来的阿里说，“把这个拿去送给我的律师。这是我的遗嘱，莫雷尔。我死了以后，打开看。” 
“什么！”莫雷尔说，“你死？” 
“是的，我不是应该先准备好吗？亲爱的朋友？你昨天离开我以后又去做些什么呢？” 
“我到托多尼俱乐部去，那儿，正如我所预料那样，我找到了波尚和夏多·勒诺。我向你坦白承认我是去找他们的。” 
“为什么，不是一切都安排好了吗？” 
“听我说，伯爵，这件事很严重，而且无法避免的。” 
“你还怀疑什么呢？” 
“不，那次挑战是在大庭广众这下进行的，现在每一个人都已经在谈论这件事了。” 
“怎么样？” 
“嗯，我希望换一种武器，用长剑代替手枪，手枪是不长眼睛的。” 
“他们同意了吗？”基督山急切地问，他的心里怀着一种令人无法觉察的希望之光。 
“没有，因为你的剑术是太好了。” 
“啊！是谁出卖了我？” 
“那个被你击败的剑术教师。” 
“而你失败了。” 
“他们断然拒绝。” 
“莫雷尔，”伯爵说，“从来没有见过我打枪吧？” 
“从来没有。” 
“嗯，我们还有时间，瞧。”基督山拿起那支美塞苔丝进来时握在手里的手枪，把每一张梅花爱司钉在靶板上，他接连开了四枪打掉了梅花的四边。 
每射一枪，莫雷尔的脸就苍白一次。他察看基督山用来造成这种神妙奇术的弹丸比绿豆还小。“真是太令人吃惊了” 
他说，“看，艾曼纽。”然后，他转过去对基督山说，“伯爵，看在上帝的面上，我求你不要杀死阿尔贝！他有一个可怜母亲。” 
“你说得对，”基督山说，“而我却没有。”说这句话的口气使莫雷尔打了一个寒颤。 
“你是受挑衅的一方，伯爵。” 
“当然，这是什么意思呢？” 
“就是你将先开枪。” 
“我先开枪？” 
“噢！这是我极力要求得来的：我们对他们的让步已经够多了，他们应该在那一点上对我们让步了。” 
“相隔几步？” 
“二十步。” 
一个可怕的微笑掠过伯爵的嘴唇。“莫雷尔，”他说，“不要忘记你刚才所看到的一切。” 
“看来，阿尔贝唯一能逃命的机会，就只有在你临时情绪激动的情况下了。” 
“我会激动？”基督山说。 
“或许是出于你的宽容，我的朋友，你是非常杰出的一位射手，我或许想说一句对旁人说就显得荒谬可笑的话。” 
“什么话？” 
“打断他的手臂，打伤他，但不要打死他。” 
“我可以告诉你，莫雷尔，”伯爵说，“你不必向我恳求饶恕马尔塞夫先生的生命，他一定可以保全生命，可以平安地和他的两位朋友回去，而我——” 
“而你？” 
“那就是另外一回事了，我将被扛回家来。” 
“不，不。”马西米兰情不自禁地喊起来。” 
“就象我对您说的，亲爱的莫雷尔，马尔塞夫先生会杀死我的。” 
莫雷尔迷惑不解地望着伯爵。“昨天晚上发生了什么事，伯爵？” 
“象布鲁特斯在菲利普之战的前夜一样，我看见了一个鬼。” 
“而那个鬼——” 
“他告诉我，莫雷尔，说我已经活得太长久了。” 
马西米兰和艾曼纽面面相觑。基督山拿出他的表来看了一下。“我们去吧，”他说，“七点五分了，我们约定的时间是八点钟。” 
一马车已等在门口。基督山和他的两个朋友跨进车厢。他在经过走廊时停了一下，听了一下门内的声音；马西米兰和艾曼纽已经向前走了几步，他们好象听到了他的叹息声，象是从内心深处发出来的一种无声哭泣。 
八点正，他们驶到约会的地点。“我们到了，”莫雷尔从车窗里探出头来，“而且是我们先到。” 
“请主人原谅，”跟着他主人同来的巴浦斯汀带着难以形容的恐怖神色说，“我好象看见那边树林底下有一辆马车。” 
“可不是，”艾曼纽说，“我也看到好象也有两个青年人，他们显然是在等人。” 
基督山轻快地跳下车子，伸手扶下艾曼纽和马西米兰。马西米兰把伯爵的手握在自己的双手之间。“啊，太好了，”他说，“我很高兴看到一个面临生死决斗的人，他的手依旧还是这样的坚定。” 
基督山拉了莫雷尔一下，不是把他拉到旁边，而是把他拉到他妹夫后边一两步的地方。“马西米兰，”他说，“你有心上人了吗？”莫雷尔惊奇地望着基督山。“我并不是要打听你的私事，我亲爱的朋友。我只是问你一个简单的问题，回答吧，——我只有这么一个请求。” 
“我爱着一位年轻姑娘，伯爵。” 
“你很爱她吗？” 
“甚于爱我的生命。” 
“又一个希望成了泡影！”伯爵说。然后，叹了一口气，“可怜的海黛！”他轻声地说道。 
“老实说，伯爵，假如我不是这样熟悉你，真会以为您没有那么勇敢呢？” 
“我叹息是因为我想到我要离开一个人。来，莫雷尔，难道一个军人不懂得什么是真正的勇敢吗？生命吗？我曾在生与死之间生活了二十年，生死对我有什么关系？所以，不要惊慌，莫雷尔，假如这是一种软弱的话，这种软弱也只是向你一个人泄露了。我知道世界是一个客厅，我们必须客客气气地退出，——那是说，鞠躬退出，这样才算体面。” 
“本来就是如此。你可把你的武器带来了吗？” 
“我？何必呢？我希望那几位先生把武器带来。” 
“我去问一下。”莫雷尔说。 
“去问吧，但不要去请求什么，你明白我的意思吗？” 
“你不用担心。” 
莫雷尔朝波尚和夏多·勒诺走过去，他们看见莫雷尔走来，便上前迎了过去。三位青年客客气气地（即使不是殷勤地）鞠了一躬。 
“原谅我，二位，”莫雷尔说，“我怎么没有看见马尔塞夫先生。” 
“他今天早晨派人来告诉我们，”夏多·勒诺答道，“说到这儿来和我们相会。” 
“啊！”莫雷尔说。 
波尚掏出他的表。“才八点过五分，”他对莫雷尔说，“还不算太晚。” 
“哦！我不是这个意思。”莫雷尔回答。 
“啊，”夏多·勒诺插话说，“有一辆马车驶过来啦。” 
这时，一辆马车正从大路上向他们所在的这块空地上疾驰而来。 
“二位，”莫雷尔说，“你们一定带着手枪罗。基督山先生已经放弃了使用他的武器的权利。” 
“我们预料到伯爵一定会这样客气，”波尚说，“我带来了几支手枪，这都是我八九天以前买的，本来也以为要用它们来做同样的事。它们还是新的，还没有用过。要不要试一试？” 
“哦，波尚先生，”莫雷尔鞠了一躬说，“既然你已经向我保证马尔塞夫先生没有碰过这些武器，我相信你说话是算数的。” 
“二位，”夏多·勒诺说，在“那辆马车里的不是马尔塞夫，——我敢保证，那是弗兰兹和德布雷！”他们所指出的那两个青年正朝这边走过来。“是什么风把你们吹到这儿来的，二位？”夏多·勒诺一面说，一面与他们逐一握手。 
“因为，”德布雷说，“阿尔贝今天早晨派人请我们来的。” 
波尚和夏多·勒诺诧异地对望了一下。 
“我想我懂得他的意思。”莫雷尔说。 
“什么意思？” 
“昨天下午我接到马尔塞夫先生的一封信，请我到歌剧院去。” 
“我也收到。”德布雷说。 
“我也收到过。”弗兰士说。 
“我们也收到过。”波尚和夏多·勒诺也说。 
“但是希望你们目睹那场挑衅以后，现在又希望你们来观看这场。” 
  
“一点不错，”那几个青年说，“一定是这么回事。” 
“但怎么回事，他自己怎么还没有来，”夏多·勒诺说，” 
阿尔贝已经晚了十分钟了。” 
“喏，他来啦，”波尚说，“那个骑马疾驰而来的就是，后面跟着一个仆人。” 
“多粗心！”夏尔·勒诺说，“我那样叮嘱关照他以后，竟还骑着马来决斗。” 
“而且，”波尚说，“戴着大领圈，穿上一件敞胸上装和白背心。他为什么不干脆在胸上做一个记号呢？——那不是更简单啦。” 
这时，阿尔贝已经驶到距离那五个青年十步以内的地方。 
他跳下马来，把缰绳扔给他的仆人，向他们走来。他脸色苍白，眼睛红肿，显然他一夜没有睡过觉。在他的脸上布满一种忧郁庄重的阴影，这种哀情在他脸上是不多见的。“诸位，” 
他说，“谢谢你们接受了我的要求，我也非常感激你们给予我们这种友谊。”当马尔塞夫走近时候，莫雷尔已往后退去，但仍站在不远的地方。“还有您，莫雷尔先生，我也感谢您。来吧，朋友是不嫌多的。” 
“阁下，”马西米兰说，“您或许不明白，我是基督山先生的证人吧？” 
“我冒然不敢确定，但也已经猜想到了。那就更好，这里可尊敬的人愈多，我就愈满意。” 
“莫雷尔先生，”夏多·勒诺说，“请你去通知基督山伯爵先生好吗？说马尔塞夫先生已经到了，我们在等候他的吩咐。” 
莫雷尔走出去去告诉伯爵先生。同时，波尚从马车里取出装手枪的盒来。 
“等一下，诸位！”阿尔贝说，“我有两句话要对基督山伯爵说。” 
“私下里说吗？”莫雷尔问。 
“不，阁下，当着大家的面说。” 
阿尔贝的证人们都惊奇地面面相觑；弗兰兹和德布雷低声低声交谈了几句话；莫雷尔很喜欢这个意料之外的小插曲，便走去找伯爵，伯爵正和艾曼纽在一条僻静的小路上散步。 
“他找我去做什么？”基督山说。 
“噢！”基督山说，“我相信他不会再有新的花样去激怒上帝吧！” 
“我看他没有这种意思。”莫雷尔说。 
伯爵由马西米兰和艾曼纽陪着走了过去；他那平静而充满从容的脸与阿尔贝那张愁容满面的脸构成一个鲜明的对照；阿尔贝这时也已走了过来，后面跟着那四个青年。 
当他们相距三步远的时候，阿尔贝和伯爵都停下来。 
“来吧，诸位，”阿尔贝说，“我希望你们不要漏听我现在有幸向基督山伯爵所说的每一句话，。因为这番话或许你们听来会感到很奇怪，但只要有人愿意，你们必须讲给他们听。” 
“请说，阁下。”伯爵说。 
“阁下。”阿尔贝说，他的声音最初有些颤抖，但很快就要安定下来，“我以前责备你不应该揭现马尔塞夫先生在伊皮奈的行为，因为在我认为，不论他有什么罪，你是没有任何权利去惩罚他的，但后来我才知道你有那种权利。使我这样认为的，不是弗尔南多·蒙台哥出卖阿里总督这件事，而是渔夫弗尔南多出卖您，这件事以及那次出卖所引起的那种种加在你身上的痛苦。所以我说，而且我公开宣布，您有权利向我父复仇，而我，他的儿子，现在感谢您没有用更狠毒的手段。” 
即使打一个霹雳，也不会有人想到出现这种场面，也没有比阿尔贝的宣布更使他们惊诧的事了。至于基督山，他的眼眼慢慢地望着天空，脸上露出无限感激的表情。他在罗马强盗中间已听说过阿尔贝那暴烈的脾气，所以很惊奇他会突然这样忍辱负重。他在其中看到了美塞苔丝的影响，这时，他这才明白昨天晚上她那高贵的心为什么没有反对他的牺牲，因为她早料到那是决不会发生的。 
“现在，阁下，”阿尔贝说，“假使您以为我的歉意已经够了，就请您把手伸给我。我认为一个人象您这样没有过错，但一旦有了过错能坦白承认，或许这种美德只可以用我一个人身上。我只是一个好人，而您却比任何人都好。只有一个天使能让我们之中的一个人免于死亡，那个天使是从天上来的，她即使不能使我们成为朋友（那一点，唉！命中注定是不可能的了），至少可以使我们互相尊重些。” 
基督山的眼睛湿润了，嘴微微张出，伸出一只手给阿尔贝，阿尔贝带着一种类似敬畏的神情把它握了一下。“诸位，” 
他说，“基督山先生已经接受了我的道歉，昨天我的举动很鲁莽，鲁莽之中总是很容易做错事情的。我做错了事情，但现在我的过错已经弥补了。我的良心要求我这样做的，我希望外界不要称我是一个懦夫。但如果每个人都对我有了错误的认识，”他挺起胸膛，象是在向朋友和仇敌同时挑战似的，“我也愿意纠正他们的。” 
“那末，昨天晚上发生了什么事呢？”波尚问夏多·勒诺，“我们在这里觉得尴尬极了。” 
“的确，阿尔贝刚才的举动不是十分可鄙，就是十分高尚。” 
夏多·勒诺回答。 
“这是什么事？”德布雷对弗兰士说。“基督山伯爵损坏马尔塞夫先生的名誉，而他的儿子竟认为那是应该的！要是我的家庭里也发生过十次亚尼纳事件，我认为自己只有一种义务，那就是——决斗十次。” 
再看基督山，他的头低着，两臂软弱无力垂着。在二十四年回忆的重压之下，他没有想到阿尔贝、波尚、夏多·勒诺，或那群人里面的任何一个；但他想了那个勇敢的女人；那个女人曾来乞求他放过她儿子，他用自己的生命献给了她，而她现在则又以吐露一个家庭秘密来拯救了他。这个青年人心里的那片孝心可能因此就全部毁灭了，作为代价。 
“上帝还是有的！”他轻声地说，“今天我才相信我是上帝的使者了！” 
Chapter 91 Mother and Son
 THE COUNT of Monte Cristo bowed to the five young men with a melancholy and dignified smile, and got into his carriage with Maximilian and Emmanuel. Albert, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud remained alone. Albert looked at his two friends, not timidly, but in a way that appeared to ask their opinion of what he had just done. 
"Indeed, my dear friend," said Beauchamp first, who had either the most feeling or the least dissimulation, "allow me to congratulate you; this is a very unhoped-for conclusion of a very disagreeable affair." 
Albert remained silent and wrapped in thought. Chateau-Renaud contented himself with tapping his boot with his flexible cane. "Are we not going?" said he, after this embarrassing silence. "When you please," replied Beauchamp; "allow me only to compliment M. de Morcerf, who has given proof to-day of rare chivalric generosity." 
"Oh, yes," said Chateau-Renaud. 
"It is magnificent," continued Beauchamp, "to be able to exercise so much self-control!" 
"Assuredly; as for me, I should have been incapable of it," said Chateau-Renaud, with most significant coolness. 
"Gentlemen," interrupted Albert, "I think you did not understand that something very serious had passed between M. de Monte Cristo and myself." 
"Possibly, possibly," said Beauchamp immediately; "but every simpleton would not be able to understand your heroism, and sooner or later you will find yourself compelled to explain it to them more energetically than would be convenient to your bodily health and the duration of your life. May I give you a friendly counsel? Set out for Naples, the Hague, or St. Petersburg--calm countries, where the point of honor is better understood than among our hot-headed Parisians. Seek quietude and oblivion, so that you may return peaceably to France after a few years. Am I not right, M. de Chateau-Renaud?" 
"That is quite my opinion," said the gentleman; "nothing induces serious duels so much as a duel forsworn." 
"Thank you, gentlemen," replied Albert, with a smile of indifference; "I shall follow your advice--not because you give it, but because I had before intended to quit France. I thank you equally for the service you have rendered me in being my seconds. It is deeply engraved on my heart, and, after what you have just said, I remember that only." Chateau-Renaud and Beauchamp looked at each other; the impression was the same on both of them, and the tone in which Morcerf had just expressed his thanks was so determined that the position would have become embarrassing for all if the conversation had continued. 
"Good-by, Albert," said Beauchamp suddenly, carelessly extending his hand to the young man. The latter did not appear to arouse from his lethargy; in fact, he did not notice the offered hand. "Good-by," said Chateau-Renaud in his turn, keeping his little cane in his left hand, and saluting with his right. Albert's lips scarcely whispered "Good-by," but his look was more explicit; it expressed a whole poem of restrained anger, proud disdain, and generous indignation. He preserved his melancholy and motionless position for some time after his two friends had regained their carriage; then suddenly unfastening his horse from the little tree to which his servant had tied it, he mounted and galloped off in the direction of Paris. 
In a quarter of an hour he was entering the house in the Rue du Helder. As he alighted, he thought he saw his father's pale face behind the curtain of the count's bedroom. Albert turned away his head with a sigh, and went to his own apartments. He cast one lingering look on all the luxuries which had rendered life so easy and so happy since his infancy; he looked at the pictures, whose faces seemed to smile, and the landscapes, which appeared painted in brighter colors. Then he took away his mother's portrait, with its oaken frame, leaving the gilt frame from which he took it black and empty. Then he arranged all his beautiful Turkish arms, his fine English guns, his Japanese china, his cups mounted in silver, his artistic bronzes by Feucheres and Barye; examined the cupboards, and placed the key in each; threw into a drawer of his secretary, which he left open, all the pocket-money he had about him, and with it the thousand fancy jewels from his vases and his jewel-boxes; then he made an exact inventory of everything, and placed it in the most conspicuous part of the table, after putting aside the books and papers which had collected there. At the beginning of this work, his servant, notwithstanding orders to the contrary, came to his room. "What do you want?" asked he, with a more sorrowful than angry tone. "Pardon me, sir," replied the valet; "you had forbidden me to disturb you, but the Count of Morcerf has called me." 
"Well!" said Albert. 
"I did not like to go to him without first seeing you." 
"Why?" 
"Because the count is doubtless aware that I accompanied you to the meeting this morning." 
"It is probable," said Albert. 
"And since he has sent for me, it is doubtless to question me on what happened there. What must I answer?" 
"The truth." 
"Then I shall say the duel did not take place?" 
"You will say I apologized to the Count of Monte Cristo. Go." 
The valet bowed and retired, and Albert returned to his inventory. As he was finishing this work, the sound of horses prancing in the yard, and the wheels of a carriage shaking his window, attracted his attention. He approached the window, and saw his father get into it, and drive away. The door was scarcely closed when Albert bent his steps to his mother's room; and, no one being there to announce him, he advanced to her bed-chamber, and distressed by what he saw and guessed, stopped for one moment at the door. As if the same idea had animated these two beings, Mercédès was doing the same in her apartments that he had just done in his. Everything was in order,--laces, dresses, jewels, linen, money, all were arranged in the drawers, and the countess was carefully collecting the keys. Albert saw all these preparations and understood them, and exclaiming, "My mother!" he threw his arms around her neck. 
The artist who could have depicted the expression of these two countenances would certainly have made of them a beautiful picture. All these proofs of an energetic resolution, which Albert did not fear on his own account, alarmed him for his mother. "What are you doing?" asked he. 
"What were you doing?" replied she. 
"Oh, my mother!" exclaimed Albert, so overcome he could scarcely speak; "it is not the same with you and me--you cannot have made the same resolution I have, for I have come to warn you that I bid adieu to your house, and--and to you." 
"I also," replied Mercédès, "am going, and I acknowledge I had depended on your accompanying me; have I deceived myself?" 
"Mother," said Albert with firmness. "I cannot make you share the fate I have planned for myself. I must live henceforth without rank and fortune, and to begin this hard apprenticeship I must borrow from a friend the loaf I shall eat until I have earned one. So, my dear mother, I am going at once to ask Franz to lend me the small sum I shall require to supply my present wants." 
"You, my poor child, suffer poverty and hunger? Oh, do not say so; it will break my resolutions." 
"But not mine, mother," replied Albert. "I am young and strong; I believe I am courageous, and since yesterday I have learned the power of will. Alas, my dear mother, some have suffered so much, and yet live, and have raised a new fortune on the ruin of all the promises of happiness which heaven had made them--on the fragments of all the hope which God had given them! I have seen that, mother; I know that from the gulf in which their enemies have plunged them they have risen with so much vigor and glory that in their turn they have ruled their former conquerors, and have punished them. No. mother; from this moment I have done with the past, and accept nothing from it--not even a name, because you can understand that your son cannot bear the name of a man who ought to blush for it before another." 
"Albert, my child," said Mercédès, "if I had a stronger heart that is the counsel I would have given you; your conscience has spoken when my voice became too weak; listen to its dictates. You had friends, Albert; break off their acquaintance. But do not despair; you have life before you, my dear Albert, for you are yet scarcely twenty-two years old; and as a pure heart like yours wants a spotless name, take my father's--it was Herrera. I am sure, my dear Albert, whatever may be your career, you will soon render that name illustrious. Then, my son, return to the world still more brilliant because of your former sorrows; and if I am wrong, still let me cherish these hopes, for I have no future to look forward to. For me the grave opens when I pass the threshold of this house." 
"I will fulfil all your wishes, my dear mother," said the young man. "Yes, I share your hopes; the anger of heaven will not pursue us, since you are pure and I am innocent. But, since our resolution is formed, let us act promptly. M. de Morcerf went out about half an hour ago; the opportunity in favorable to avoid an explanation." 
"I am ready, my son," said Mercédès. 
Albert ran to fetch a carriage. He recollected that there was a small furnished house to let in the Rue de Saints-Pères, where his mother would find a humble but decent lodging, and thither he intended conducting the countess. As the carriage stopped at the door, and Albert was alighting, a man approached and gave him a letter. Albert recognized the bearer. "From the count," said Bertuccio. Albert took the letter, opened, and read it, then looked round for Bertuccio, but he was gone. He returned to Mercédès with tears in his eyes and heaving breast, and without uttering a word he gave her the letter. Mercédès read:-- 
Albert,--While showing you that I have discovered your plans, I hope also to convince you of my delicacy. You are free, you leave the count's house, and you take your mother to your home; but reflect, Albert, you owe her more than your poor noble heart can pay her. Keep the struggle for yourself, bear all the suffering, but spare her the trial of poverty which must accompany your first efforts; for she deserves not even the shadow of the misfortune which has this day fallen on her, and providence is not willing that the innocent should suffer for the guilty. I know you are going to leave the Rue du Helder without taking anything with you. Do not seek to know how I discovered it; I know it--that is sufficient. 
Now, listen, Albert. Twenty-four years ago I returned, proud and joyful, to my country. I had a betrothed, Albert, a lovely girl whom I adored, and I was bringing to my betrothed a hundred and fifty louis, painfully amassed by ceaseless toil. This money was for her; I destined it for her, and, knowing the treachery of the sea I buried our treasure in the little garden of the house my father lived in at Marseilles, on the Allées de Meillan. Your mother, Albert, knows that poor house well. A short time since I passed through Marseilles, and went to see the old place, which revived so many painful recollections; and in the evening I took a spade and dug in the corner of the garden where I had concealed my treasure. The iron box was there--no one had touched it--under a beautiful fig-tree my father had planted the day I was born, which overshadowed the spot. Well, Albert, this money, which was formerly designed to promote the comfort and tranquillity of the woman I adored, may now, through strange and painful circumstances, be devoted to the same purpose. Oh, feel for me, who could offer millions to that poor woman, but who return her only the piece of black bread forgotten under my poor roof since the day I was torn from her I loved. You are 
a generous man, Albert, but perhaps you may be blinded by pride or resentment; if you refuse me, if you ask another for what I have a right to offer you, I will say it is ungenerous of you to refuse the life of your mother at the hands of a man whose father was allowed by your father to die in all the horrors of poverty and despair. 
Albert stood pale and motionless to hear what his mother would decide after she had finished reading this letter. Mercédès turned her eyes with an ineffable look towards heaven. "I accept it," said she; "he has a right to pay the dowry, which I shall take with me to some convent!" Putting the letter in her bosom, she took her son's arm, and with a firmer step than she even herself expected she went down-stairs.  
基督山伯爵带着一个抑郁而庄重的微笑向那五个青年鞠了一躬，和马西米兰、艾曼纽跨进他的马车走了。决斗场上只剩下了阿尔贝、波尚、夏多·勒诺。阿尔贝望着他的两位朋友，但他的眼光里决没有懦弱的神情，看来只象是在征求他们对他刚才那种举动的意见。 
“真的，我亲爱的朋友，”波尚首先说，不知道他究竟是受到了怎样的感动，或是因为装腔作势，“请允许我向你道贺，对于这样一件非常难理解的事情，这确是一个想象不到的结果。” 
阿尔贝默不出声，仍沉溺在思索里。夏多·勒诺只是用他那根富于弹性的手杖拍打他的皮靴。在一阵尴尬的沉默以手，他说：“我们走吧？” 
“走吧，”波尚回答，“只是先允许我向马尔塞夫先生祝贺一下，他今天做了一件这样宽宏大量，这样富于骑士精神和这样罕见的举动！” 
“哦，是的。”夏多·勒诺说。 
“能够有这样的自制能力真是难得！”波尚又说。 
“当然罗，要是我，我就办不到啦。”夏多·勒诺用十分明显的冷淡的神气。 
“二位，”阿尔贝插进来说，“我想你们大概不明白基督山先生曾与我之间发生过一桩非常严肃的事情。” 
“可能的，可能的，”波尚立即说，“但无论如何哪一个傻瓜都不能明白你的英雄气概的，而你迟早就会发觉自己不得不费尽全身心向他们解释。作为一个朋友我可以给你一个忠告，到那不勒斯、海牙或圣·彼得堡去，——到那些宁静的地方，那些比我们急性的巴黎人对于名誉攸关的问题比我们看得理智。静静地、隐姓埋名地在那儿住下来，这样，几年以后你就可以平平安安地回到法国来了。我说得对吗，夏多·勒诺先生？” 
“那正是我的意思，”那位绅士说，“在这样严肃的决斗象今天这样无结果散伙以后，只有这条路可走了。” 
“谢谢你们二位，”阿尔贝带着一种淡淡的微笑答道，“我将听从你们的劝告，——倒并不是因为你们给了这个劝告，而是因为我已经下决心要离开法国。我感谢你们二位帮助了我做我的陪证人。这是深深地印刻在我的心上，因为你们虽然说了那些话，但我却只记得这一点。” 
夏多·勒诺和波尚对望了一眼，他们两个人得到了相同的印象：马尔塞夫刚才表示感谢的口气是那样的坚决，假如谈话再继续下去，只会使大家更加为难。” 
“告辞了，阿尔贝。”波尚突然说，同时漫不精心把手给那个青年，但阿尔贝看来象还没有摆脱他的恍惚状态似的，并未注意到那只伸过来的手。 
“告辞了。”夏多·勒诺说，他的左手握着那根小手杖，用右手打了一个手势。 
阿尔贝用低得几乎让人听不见的声音说句“再见”，但他的眼光却更明显；那种眼光是一首诗，包含着抑制的愤怒、傲慢的轻视和宽容的庄重。他的两位朋友回到他们的马车里以后，他依旧抑郁地，一动不动地呆了一会儿；随后，猛然解下他的仆人绑在小树上的那匹马，一跃到马背上，朝向巴黎那个方向疾驰而去。一刻钟后，他回到了海尔达路的那座大夏。当他下马的时候，他好象从伯爵卧室的窗帘后面看到了他父亲那张苍白的脸。阿尔贝叹了一声叹息转过头去，走进他自己的房间里。他向那些童年时代曾给他带来生活安逸和快乐的种种华丽奢侈的东西最后望了一眼；他望望那些图画，图画上的人似乎在微笑，图画上的风景似乎色彩更明亮了。他从镜框里拿出他母亲的画像，把它卷了起来，只留下那只镶金边的空框子。然后，他整理一下他的那些漂亮的土耳其武器，那些精致的英国枪，那些日本瓷器，那些银盖的玻璃杯，以及那些刻有“费乞里斯”或“巴埃”［费乞里斯（一八○七—一八五二），法国雕塑家。——译注］等名字的铜器艺术品；他仔细看了一下衣柜，把钥匙都插在框门里；打开一只书桌抽屉，把他身上所有的零用钱，把珠宝箱里的千百种珍奇的古玩品都仍到里面，然后他到了一张详细的财产目录放在最引人注目的地方。 
他吩咐他的仆人不许进来，但当他开始做这些事情的时候，他的仆人却仍走了进来。“什么事？”马尔塞夫用一种伤心比恼怒更重的语气说。 
“原谅我，少爷，”仆人说道，“你不许我来打扰您，但马尔塞夫伯爵派人来叫我了。” 
“那又怎么样呢？”阿尔贝说。 
“我去见他以前，希望先来见一下您。” 
“为什么？” 
“因为伯爵可能已经知道我今天早晨陪着您去决斗的。” 
“有可能吧。”阿尔贝说。 
“既然他派人来叫我，肯定是要问我事情的全部经过。我该怎么回答呢？” 
  
  
“实话实说。” 
“那么我就说决斗没有举行吗？” 
“你说我向基督山伯爵道歉了。快去吧。” 
仆人鞠了一躬退了出去，阿尔贝继续列的财产目录单。当他完成这件工作的时候，园子里响了马蹄声，车轮滚动声音震动了他的窗户。这种声音引起了他的注意。他走近窗口，看见他的父亲正坐着马车出去。伯爵走后，大门还未关闭，阿尔贝便朝他母亲的房间走去；没有人告诉他的母亲，他便一直走到她的卧室里去；他在卧室门口站了一会儿，痛苦地发觉他所看见的一切同他想的一样。这两个人心灵是相通的，美塞苔丝在房间里所做的事情正如阿尔贝在他的房间里所做的一样。一切都已安排妥当，——手饰、衣服、珠宝、衣料、金钱，一切都已整齐的放在抽屉里，——伯爵夫人正在仔细地汇集钥匙。阿尔贝看见这一切，他懂得这种种准备的意思，于是大声喊道：“妈！”便上去抱住她的脖子。要是当时一位画家能画出这两张脸上的表情，他一定能画出一幅出色的画。阿尔贝自己下这种强有力的决心时并不可怕，但看到他母亲也这样做时他却慌了。“你在干什么？”他问。 
“你在干什么？”她回答。 
“噢，妈妈！”阿尔贝喊道，他激动得已经讲不出话来了，“你和我是不一样的，你不能和我下同样的决心，因为我这次来，是来和家告别，而且——而且来向你告别的！ 
“我也要走了，”美塞苔丝答道，“如果我没弄错的话，你会陪我的。” 
“妈，”阿尔贝坚决地说，“我不能让你和我一起去准备承担我的命运。从此以后，我必须过一种没有爵位和财产的生活。在开始这种艰苦生活之前，在我还没有赚到钱以前，我必须向朋友借钱来度日。所以，我亲爱的妈妈呀，我现在要去向弗兰兹借一小笔款子来应付目前的需要了。” 
“你，我可怜的孩子，竟然要忍受贫穷和饥饿！噢，别那样说，这会使我改变决心的。” 
“但却改变不了我的，妈，”阿尔贝回答。“我年轻力壮，我相信我也很勇敢。自昨天起，我已明白了意志的力量。唉！亲爱的妈，有人受过那样的苦，但还是坚强地活了下来，而且从苍天所赐给他们的废墟上，从上帝所给他们的希望的碎片上重新建立了他们的功名利禄！我见过了那种事情，妈，从这时候起，我已经和过去割断了一切关系，并且决不接受过去的任何东西，——甚至我的姓，因为你懂得——是不是？——你的儿子是不能承受着旁人姓的。” 
“阿尔贝，我的孩子，”美塞苔丝说，“假如我心再坚强些，我也是要给你这劝告的。但因为我的声音太微弱的时候，你的良知已替我把它说了出来，那末就按照你的意思办。你有朋友，阿尔贝，现在暂时割断和他的关系。但不要绝望，你的生命还长有一颗纯洁的心，的确需要一个纯洁无瑕的姓。接受我父亲的姓吧，那个姓是希里拉。我相信，我的阿尔贝，不论你将来从事什么工作，你不久一定会使那个姓氏大放光芒的。那时，我的孩子，让那不堪回首的往事会使你在世界上变得更加光辉，假如事与愿违，那么至少让我保存着这些希望吧，因为我就只剩这点盼头了，可现在——当我跨出这座房子的门的时候，坟墓已经打开了。” 
“我当照着你的愿望做，我亲爱的妈妈，”阿尔贝说，“是的，我跟你有同样的希望，上苍的愤怒不会追逐我们的，——你是这样的纯洁，而我又是这样无辜。但既然我们的决心已下定了，就让我们赶快行动吧。马尔塞夫先生已在半小时前出去了，这是一个很好的机会，可以免费口舌。” 
“我准备好了，我的孩子。”美塞苔丝说。 
阿尔贝立刻跑到街上，叫了一辆出租马车载着他们离开了他们的家，他记得圣父街上有一所备有家具的小房子要出租，那儿虽不太好，但还可以过得去，他准备带伯爵夫人到那儿去住。当马车在门口停下，阿尔贝正下车的时候，一个人走过来，交给他一封信。阿尔贝认识那个送信的人。“是伯爵送来的。”伯都西奥说。阿尔贝接过那封信，拆开它，读了一遍，然后四处去寻找伯都西奥，但他已经走了。他含着眼泪，胸膛激动得回到美塞苔丝那儿，一言不发地把那封信交给她。美塞苔丝念道：—— 
“阿尔贝，——在向你表明我已发觉你的计划的时候，我也希望你能相信我的用心。你是自由的，你离开伯爵的家，带你的母亲离开你的家；但且想一想，阿尔贝，你欠她的恩惠，不是你的可怜的高贵的心所能偿付得了的。你尽管去奋斗，去忍受一切艰难，但不要使她遭受到你那一切贫穷；因为今天落到她身上的那种不幸的阴影，她本来也是不应该遭受的，而上帝决不肯让一个无辜者为罪人受苦的。我知道你们俩就要一文不取地离开海尔达路。不要想我是怎么知道的，我知道了，——那就够了。现在，听我说，阿尔贝。二十四年前，我骄傲而快乐地回到我的故乡。我有一个未婚妻，阿尔贝，一个我崇拜的可爱的姑娘；而我给我的未婚妻带来了辛辛苦苦储积起来的一百五十块金路易。这笔钱是给她的。我特地把这笔钱留给她；只因为我知道大海是变化莫测的，我把我们的宝藏埋在马赛的米兰巷我父亲所住的那座房子的小花园里。你的母亲，阿尔贝，很熟悉那座房子的。不久以前，我路过马赛，去看看那座老房子，它唤起了我许多许多痛苦的回忆；晚上，我带了一把铲子到花园上我埋宝藏的那个地方挖出当时种植的那棵美丽的无花果树。唉，阿尔贝，这笔钱，我以前是准备用来带给所崇拜的那个女人的安乐和宁静用的，现在，由于一种特别可悲的机会，它可以仍用来做同样的用途。噢，我本来是可以给那个可怜的女人几百万的，但现在我却只给了她那一片自从我被人从我所爱的人身边拉走时留给我那可怜的家屋底下的黑面包，我希望你能明白我的这番用意！阿尔贝，你是一个心地宽厚的人，但也许会被骄傲或怨恨所蒙蔽，你会拒绝我，你会另向别人去要求我有权提供的那种帮助，那我就要说，有个人的父亲是受你的父亲的迫害在饥饿和恐怖而死的，而你竟拒绝接受他向你的母亲提供生活费，这样，你未免太不够仁慈了。” 
阿尔贝脸色苍白，一动不动地站着，等待母亲在读完这封信以后决定。美塞苔丝带着一种难以形容的神情抬头望天。 
“我接受了，”她说，“他有权利作这样的赠与，我应当带着它进修道院去！”她把那封信藏在怀里，挽起儿子的手臂，跨着一种或许她自己都想不到能这样坚定的步伐走下车去。 
Chapter 92 The Suicide
 MEANWHILE Monte Cristo had also returned to town with Emmanuel and Maximilian. Their return was cheerful. Emmanuel did not conceal his joy at the peaceful termination of the affair, and was loud in his expressions of delight. Morrel, in a corner of the carriage, allowed his brother-in-law's gayety to expend itself in words, while he felt equal inward joy, which, however, betrayed itself only in his countenance. At the Barrière du Tr?ne they met Bertuccio, who was waiting there, motionless as a sentinel at his post. Monte Cristo put his head out of the window, exchanged a few words with him in a low tone, and the steward disappeared. "Count," said Emmanuel, when they were at the end of the Place Royale, "put me down at my door, that my wife may not have a single moment of needless anxiety on my account or yours." "If it were not ridiculous to make a display of our triumph, I would invite the count to our house; besides that, he doubtless has some trembling heart to comfort. So we will take leave of our friend, and let him hasten home." 
"Stop a moment," said Monte Cristo; "do not let me lose both my companions. Return, Emmanuel, to your charming wife, and present my best compliments to her; and do you, Morrel, accompany me to the Champs Elysées." 
"Willingly," said Maximilian; "particularly as I have business in that quarter." 
"Shall we wait breakfast for you?" asked Emmanuel. 
"No," replied the young man. The door was closed, and the carriage proceeded. "See what good fortune I brought you!" said Morrel, when he was alone with the count. "Have you not thought so?" 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "for that reason I wished to keep you near me." 
"It is miraculous!" continued Morrel, answering his own thoughts. 
"What?" said Monte Cristo. 
"What has just happened." 
"Yes," said the Count, "you are right--it is miraculous." 
"For Albert is brave," resumed Morrel. 
"Very brave," said Monte Cristo; "I have seen him sleep with a sword suspended over his head." 
"And I know he has fought two duels," said Morrel. "How can you reconcile that with his conduct this morning?" 
"All owing to your influence," replied Monte Cristo, smiling. 
"It is well for Albert he is not in the army," said Morrel. 
"Why?" 
"An apology on the ground!" said the young captain, shaking his head. 
"Come," said the count mildly, "do not entertain the prejudices of ordinary men, Morrel! Acknowledge, that if Albert is brave, he cannot be a coward; he must then have had some reason for acting as he did this morning, and confess that his conduct is more heroic than otherwise." 
"Doubtless, doubtless," said Morrel; "but I shall say, like the Spaniard, 'He has not been so brave to-day as he was yesterday.'" 
"You will breakfast with me, will you not, Morrel?" said the count, to turn the conversation. 
"No; I must leave you at ten o'clock." 
"Your engagement was for breakfast, then?" said the count. 
Morrel smiled, and shook his head. "Still you must breakfast somewhere." 
"But if I am not hungry?" said the young man. 
"Oh," said the count, "I only know two things which destroy the appetite,--grief--and as I am happy to see you very cheerful, it is not that--and love. Now after what you told me this morning of your heart, I may believe"-- 
"Well, count," replied Morrel gayly, "I will not dispute it." 
"But you will not make me your confidant, Maximilian?" said the count, in a tone which showed how gladly he would have been admitted to the secret. 
"I showed you this morning that I had a heart, did I not, count?" Monte Cristo only answered by extending his hand to the young man. "Well," continued the latter, "since that heart is no longer with you in the Bois de Vincennes, it is elsewhere, and I must go and find it." 
"Go," said the count deliberately; "go, dear friend, but promise me if you meet with any obstacle to remember that I have some power in this world, that I am happy to use that power in the behalf of those I love, and that I love you, Morrel." 
"I will remember it," said the young man, "as selfish children recollect their parents when they want their aid. When I need your assistance, and the moment arrives, I will come to you, count." 
"Well, I rely upon your promise. Good-by, then." 
"Good-by, till we meet again." They had arrived in the Champs Elysées. Monte Cristo opened the carriage-door, Morrel sprang out on the pavement, Bertuccio was waiting on the steps. Morrel disappeared down the Avenue de Marigny, and Monte Cristo hastened to join Bertuccio. 
"Well?" asked he. 
"She is going to leave her house," said the steward. 
"And her son?" 
"Florentin, his valet, thinks he is going to do the same." 
"Come this way." Monte Cristo took Bertuccio into his study, wrote the letter we have seen, and gave it to the steward. "Go," said he quickly. "But first, let Haidée be informed that I have returned." 
"Here I am," said the young girl, who at the sound of the carriage had run down-stairs and whose face was radiant with joy at seeing the count return safely. Bertuccio left. Every transport of a daughter finding a father, all the delight of a mistress seeing an adored lover, were felt by Haidée during the first moments of this meeting, which she had so eagerly expected. Doubtless, although less evident, Monte Cristo's joy was not less intense. Joy to hearts which have suffered long is like the dew on the ground after a long drought; both the heart and the ground absorb that benificent moisture falling on them, and nothing is outwardly apparent. 
Monte Cristo was beginning to think, what he had not for a long time dared to believe, that there were two Mercédès in the world, and he might yet be happy. His eye, elate with happiness, was reading eagerly the tearful gaze of Haidée, when suddenly the door opened. The count knit his brow. "M. de Morcerf!" said Baptistin, as if that name sufficed for his excuse. In fact, the count's face brightened. 
"Which," asked he, "the viscount or the count?" 
"The count." 
"Oh," exclaimed Haidée, "is it not yet over?" 
"I know not if it is finished, my beloved child," said Monte Cristo, taking the young girl's hands; "but I do know you have nothing more to fear." 
"But it is the wretched"-- 
"That man cannot injure me, Haidée," said Monte Cristo; "it was his son alone that there was cause to fear." 
"And what I have suffered," said the young girl, "you shall never know, my lord." Monte Cristo smiled. "By my father's tomb," said he, extending his hand over the head of the young girl, "I swear to you, Haidée, that if any misfortune happens, it will not be to me." 
"I believe you, my lord, as implicitly as if God had spoken to me," said the young girl, presenting her forehead to him. Monte Cristo pressed on that pure beautiful forehead a kiss which made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, the other heavily. "Oh," murmured the count, "shall I then be permitted to love again? Ask M. de Morcerf into the drawing-room," said he to Baptistin, while he led the beautiful Greek girl to a private staircase. 
We must explain this visit, which although expected by Monte Cristo, is unexpected to our readers. While Mercédès, as we have said, was making a similar inventory of her property to Albert's, while she was arranging her jewels, shutting her drawers, collecting her keys, to leave everything in perfect order, she did not perceive a pale and sinister face at a glass door which threw light into the passage, from which everything could be both seen and heard. He who was thus looking, without being heard or seen, probably heard and saw all that passed in Madame de Morcerf's apartments. From that glass door the pale-faced man went to the count's bedroom and raised with a constricted hand the curtain of a window overlooking the court-yard. He remained there ten minutes, motionless and dumb, listening to the beating of his own heart. For him those ten minutes were very long. It was then Albert, returning from his meeting with the count, perceived his father watching for his arrival behind a curtain, and turned aside. The count's eye expanded; he knew Albert had insulted the count dreadfully, and that in every country in the world such an insult would lead to a deadly duel. Albert returned safely--then the count was revenged. 
An indescribable ray of joy illumined that wretched countenance like the last ray of the sun before it disappears behind the clouds which bear the aspect, not of a downy couch, but of a tomb. But as we have said, he waited in vain for his son to come to his apartment with the account of his triumph. He easily understood why his son did not come to see him before he went to avenge his father's honor; but when that was done, why did not his son come and throw himself into his arms? 
It was then, when the count could not see Albert, that he sent for his servant, who he knew was authorized not to conceal anything from him. Ten minutes afterwards, General Morcerf was seen on the steps in a black coat with a military collar, black pantaloons, and black gloves. He had apparently given previous orders, for as he reached the bottom step his carriage came from the coach-house ready for him. The valet threw into the carriage his military cloak, in which two swords were wrapped, and, shutting the door, he took his seat by the side of the coachman. The coachman stooped down for his orders. 
"To the Champs Elysées," said the general; "the Count of Monte Cristo's. Hurry!" The horses bounded beneath the whip; and in five minutes they stopped before the count's door. M. de Morcerf opened the door himself, and as the carriage rolled away he passed up the walk, rang, and entered the open door with his servant. 
A moment afterwards, Baptistin announced the Count of Morcerf to Monte Cristo, and the latter, leading Haidée aside, ordered that Morcerf be asked into the drawing-room. The general was pacing the room the third time when, in turning, he perceived Monte Cristo at the door. "Ah, it is M. de Morcerf," said Monte Cristo quietly; "I thought I had not heard aright." 
"Yes, it is I," said the count, whom a frightful contraction of the lips prevented from articulating freely. 
"May I know the cause which procures me the pleasure of seeing M. de Morcerf so early?" 
"Had you not a meeting with my son this morning?" asked the general. 
"I had," replied the count. 
"And I know my son had good reasons to wish to fight with you, and to endeavor to kill you." 
"Yes, sir, he had very good ones; but you see that in spite of them he has not killed me, and did not even fight." 
"Yet he considered you the cause of his father's dishonor, the cause of the fearful ruin which has fallen on my house." 
"It is true, sir," said Monte Cristo with his dreadful calmness; "a secondary cause, but not the principal." 
"Doubtless you made, then, some apology or explanation?" 
"I explained nothing, and it is he who apologized to me." 
"But to what do you attribute this conduct?" 
"To the conviction, probably, that there was one more guilty than I." 
"And who was that?" 
"His father." 
"That may be," said the count, turning pale; "but you know the guilty do not like to find themselves convicted." 
"I know it, and I expected this result." 
"You expected my son would be a coward?" cried the count. 
"M. Albert de Morcerf is no coward!" said Monte Cristo. 
"A man who holds a sword in his hand, and sees a mortal enemy within reach of that sword, and does not fight, is a coward! Why is he not here that I may tell him so?" 
"Sir." replied Monte Cristo coldly, "I did not expect that you had come here to relate to me your little family affairs. Go and tell M. Albert that, and he may know what to answer you." 
"Oh, no, no," said the general, smiling faintly, "I did not come for that purpose; you are right. I came to tell you that I also look upon you as my enemy. I came to tell you that I hate you instinctively; that it seems as if I had always known you, and always hated you; and, in short, since the young people of the present day will not fight, it remains for us to do so. Do you think so, sir?" 
"Certainly. And when I told you I had foreseen the result, it is the honor of your visit I alluded to." 
"So much the better. Are you prepared?" 
"Yes, sir." 
"You know that we shall fight till one of us is dead," said the general, whose teeth were clinched with rage. "Until one of us dies," repeated Monte Cristo, moving his head slightly up and down. 
"Let us start, then; we need no witnesses." 
"Very true," said Monte Cristo; "it is unnecessary, we know each other so well!" 
"On the contrary," said the count, "we know so little of each other." 
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, with the same indomitable coolness; "let us see. Are you not the soldier Fernand who deserted on the eve of the battle of Waterloo? Are you not the Lieutenant Fernand who served as guide and spy to the French army in Spain? Are you not the Captain Fernand who betrayed, sold, and murdered his benefactor, Ali? And have not all these Fernands, united, made Lieutenant-General, the Count of Morcerf, peer of France?" 
"Oh," cried the general, as it branded with a hot iron, "wretch,--to reproach me with my shame when about, perhaps, to kill me! No, I did not say I was a stranger to you. I know well, demon, that you have penetrated into the darkness of the past, and that you have read, by the light of what torch I know not, every page of my life; but perhaps I may be more honorable in my shame than you under your pompous coverings. No--no, I am aware you know me; but I know you only as an adventurer sewn up in gold and jewellery. You call yourself in Paris the Count of Monte Cristo; in Italy, Sinbad the Sailor; in Malta, I forget what. But it is your real name I want to know, in the midst of your hundred names, that I may pronounce it when we meet to fight, at the moment when I plunge my sword through your heart." 
The Count of Monte Cristo turned dreadfully pale; his eye seemed to burn with a devouring fire. He leaped towards a dressing-room near his bedroom, and in less than a moment, tearing off his cravat, his coat and waistcoat, he put on a sailor's jacket and hat, from beneath which rolled his long black hair. He returned thus, formidable and implacable, advancing with his arms crossed on his breast, towards the general, who could not understand why he had disappeared, but who on seeing him again, and feeling his teeth chatter and his legs sink under him, drew back, and only stopped when he found a table to support his clinched hand. "Fernand," cried he, "of my hundred names I need only tell you one, to overwhelm you! But you guess it now, do you not?--or, rather, you remember it? For, notwithstanding all my sorrows and my tortures, I show you to-day a face which the happiness of revenge makes young again--a face you must often have seen in your dreams since your marriage with Mercédès, my betrothed!" 
The general, with his head thrown back, hands extended, gaze fixed, looked silently at this dreadful apparition; then seeking the wall to support him, he glided along close to it until he reached the door, through which he went out backwards, uttering this single mournful, lamentable, distressing cry,--"Edmond Dantès!" Then, with sighs which were unlike any human sound, he dragged himself to the door, reeled across the court-yard, and falling into the arms of his valet, he said in a voice scarcely intelligible,--"Home, home." The fresh air and the shame he felt at having exposed himself before his servants, partly recalled his senses, but the ride was short, and as he drew near his house all his wretchedness revived. He stopped at a short distance from the house and alighted. 
The door was wide open, a hackney-coach was standing in the middle of the yard--a strange sight before so noble a mansion; the count looked at it with terror, but without daring to inquire its meaning, he rushed towards his apartment. Two persons were coming down the stairs; he had only time to creep into an alcove to avoid them. It was Mercédès leaning on her son's arm and leaving the house. They passed close by the unhappy being, who, concealed behind the damask curtain, almost felt Mercédès dress brush past him, and his son's warm breath, pronouncing these words,--"Courage, mother! Come, this is no longer our home!" The words died away, the steps were lost in the distance. The general drew himself up, clinging to the curtain; he uttered the most dreadful sob which ever escaped from the bosom of a father abandoned at the same time by his wife and son. He soon heard the clatter of the iron step of the hackney-coach, then the coachman's voice, and then the rolling of the heavy vehicle shook the windows. He darted to his bedroom to see once more all he had loved in the world; but the hackney-coach drove on and the head of neither Mercédès nor her son appeared at the window to take a last look at the house or the deserted father and husband. And at the very moment when the wheels of that coach crossed the gateway a report was heard, and a thick smoke escaped through one of the panes of the window, which was broken by the explosion.  
这时，基督山也已经和艾曼纽、马西米兰一起回到了巴黎城里。他们的归程是愉快的。艾曼纽并不掩饰他看到和平代替战争时的喜悦，并公开承认他同意博爱主义的主张。莫雷尔坐在马车的一角里，让他的妹夫尽力去表达他的喜悦，他的内心虽然也是同样的快乐，但那种快乐却只表现在神色上。 
车到土伦城栅口，他们遇到了贝尔图乔，他呆立不动地等候在那儿，象一个站岗的哨兵似的。基督山把头伸到车厢外，低声和他交谈了几句话，那位管家就不见了。 
“伯爵阁下，”当他们到达皇家广场尽头的时候，艾曼纽说，“在我家门口让我下来吧，免得我的太太再为我和你担忧。” 
“要是我们来庆祝胜利不显得滑稽的话，”莫雷尔说，“我一定会请伯爵到我们家去的，但是伯爵现在肯定也有一颗战栗的心等待别人去安慰。所以我们还是暂时离开我们的朋友，让他赶快回家去吧。” 
“等一等，”基督山说，“不要让我同时失掉两个朋友。艾曼纽，你回去看你那可爱的太太吧，并尽量代我向她致意，而你，莫雷尔，请你务必陪我到香榭丽舍大街。” 
“太好了，”马西米兰说，“我正好在那一带有件事要办理。” 
“要我们等你吃早餐吗？”艾曼纽问。 
“不用了，”马西米兰回答。门关了，马车继续前进。“看我给你带来了多好的运气！”当莫雷尔独自和伯爵在一起的时候，他说。“你不这样想吗？” 
“是的，”基督山说，“正因为这样，我才希望你留在我的身边。” 
“那是奇迹！”莫雷尔继续说。 
“什么事？”基督山问。 
“刚才所发生的那件事。” 
“是的，”伯爵说，“你说得对，那是奇迹。” 
“因为阿尔贝是个勇敢的人。”莫雷尔又说。 
“非常勇敢，“基督山说，“我曾见过，他在匕首悬在头顶心的当口却安然睡觉。” 
“我知道他曾经和人决斗过两次，”马西米兰说，“你怎么能使他取消今天早晨的决斗呢？” 
“可能得归功于你呢。”基督山带笑回笑。 
“幸而阿尔贝不是在军队里的士兵。”莫雷尔说。 
“为什么？” 
“有决斗场上向敌人道歉！”那青年队长摇摇头说。 
“来，”伯爵温和地说，“不要存着一般人的偏见，莫雷尔！你难道不懂吗？我知道阿尔贝是勇敢的，他就不可能是一个懦夫，一定有某种特殊理由才使他做出今早晨的事情，向他这种行为实在是更勇敢的。” 
“当然罗，当然罗，”莫雷尔说，“但我要象西班牙人那样说，他今天不如昨天那样勇敢。” 
“和我一同吃早餐，好吗，莫雷尔？”伯爵换了话题说。 
“不，我在十点钟必须离开你。” 
“那肯定是有人约你吃早餐吗？”伯爵说。莫雷尔微笑一下，摇摇头。 
“但你总得有一个地方吃早餐呀。” 
“要是我不饿呢？”那青年人说。 
“哦！”伯爵说，“我知道只有两样东西会破坏你的胃口：忧愁，——但我看你非常高兴，可见不是因为忧愁，——和爱。现在，在听了你今天早晨告诉我的心事以后，我相信——” 
“嗯，伯爵，”莫雷尔愉快地答道，“我不否认。” 
“你还没有把这件事讲给我听呢，马西米兰！”伯爵说，从他的口吻里可以看出他多么愿意能知道这个秘密。 
“今天早晨我对你说过了，我有一颗心，不是吗，伯爵？” 
基督山听他这样说，也没说什么，只把他的手伸给莫雷尔。 
“嗯！既然那颗心已不再跟你一同在万森树林了，它就是到别处，而我必须去找到它。” 
“去吧，”伯爵从容地说，“去吧，亲爱的朋友，但请答应我，假如你遇到了什么麻烦，别忘了我在这个世界里还有些影响。我很乐意用那种权力来造福那些我所爱的人。而我爱你，莫雷尔。” 
“我会记得的，”那青年人说，“象自私的孩子当需要帮助的时候记得他们的父母一样。当我需要你帮助的时候，我会去找你的，伯爵，而那个时候很快就会来的。” 
“嗯，我记住了你的话。那末，再会了。” 
“再见。” 
他们已经到达香榭丽舍大街了。基督山伯爵打开车门，莫雷尔跳到阶沿上，贝尔图乔已在阶沿上等他了。莫雷尔走进玛里尼街便不见了，基督山便急忙去见贝尔图乔。 
“怎么样？”他问。 
“她就要离开她的家了。”那位管家说。 
“她儿子呢？” 
“弗劳兰丁，就是他的随从，认为他也一样要走的。” 
“到这儿来，”基督山带贝尔图乔到他的书房里，写了我们上面看见的那封信，把它交给这个管家。“去，”他急切地说。“顺便通知海黛说我回来了。” 
“我来啦。”海黛说，她一听见马车的声音就马上奔下楼来，看到伯爵平安归来，她的脸上露出喜悦的光芒。贝尔图乔退出。在焦虑不耐地等待了这么久以后，海黛一见他就表达了一个女儿找到她心爱的父亲和一个情妇看见她钟爱的情人时的全部喜悦。基督山心里的喜悦虽然没有这样明显地表达出来，但也不弱于她。在忍受过长期的痛苦以后，好比雨露落在久旱的土地；心和土地都会吸收那甜美的甘露，但是在外表上是看不出来的。 
基督山开始想，他长时间不敢相信的一件事情，——就是，世界上有两个美塞苔丝，——或许这是真的了，他或许还能得到幸福。当他那洋溢着幸福的眼睛正在急切地探索海黛那一对润湿眼睛里的所表达的意思的时候，房门突然打开了。伯爵皱了一下眉头。 
“马尔塞夫先生来访！”巴浦斯汀说，象是只要他说出那个名字就得请伯爵的原谅似的。果然，伯爵的脸上露出了光彩。“是哪一个，”他问道，子爵还是伯爵？” 
“伯爵。” 
“噢！”海黛喊道，“这件事还不曾完结吗？” 
“我不知道有没有结束，我心爱的孩子，”基督山握住海黛的双手说，“我只知道你不需再害怕了。” 
“但这就是那奸恶的——” 
“那个人是不能伤害我的，海黛，”基督山说，“可怕的只是他的儿子。” 
“你决不会知道我忍受过多大的痛苦，老爷。”海黛说。 
基督山微笑了一下。“我凭我父亲的坟墓发誓！”他伸出一只手放在海黛的头上说，“海黛，假若有任何不幸的事情发生的话，那种不幸是决不会落到你头上的。” 
“我相信你，大人，象上帝在对我说话一样。”那青年女郎说，并把她的额头凑给伯爵。 
基督山在这个纯洁而美丽的额头上吻了一下，这一吻使两颗心同时跳动起来，一颗是剧烈地跳，一颗是沉着地跳。 
“噢！”他低声地说，“看来上帝又允许我恋爱了吗？”他一面领那个美丽的希腊人向一座暗梯走，一面对巴浦斯汀说，“请马尔塞夫先生到客厅里吧。” 
这次拜访基督山或许事先早已经预料到了，但对我们的读者来说就未必如此了，所以我们必须先来解释一下。前文说过，美塞苔丝也象阿尔贝那样曾列了一张财产目录表，当她在整理她的珠宝、锁上她的抽屉、收集她的钥匙、把一切都井井有条地留下的时候，她不曾发现有一个苍白而阴险的面孔在通往走廊的那道玻璃门上窥视。马尔塞夫夫人没有看见那个人或听到那个人的声音，但那个人却已经看见和听到了房间里发生一切。那个脸色苍白的人从那道玻璃门走到伯爵的卧室里，用一只痉挛的手拉开朝向院子的那个窗口的窗帘。他在那儿站立了十分钟，一动不动，一言不发，听着自己怦怦的心跳的声音。对于他来说，那十分钟是非常难捱的。 
而就在那个时候，从约会地回来的阿尔贝发现他父亲在一道窗帘后面等他归来。伯爵的眼睛张大了；他知道阿尔贝曾毫不留情地侮辱过基督山，而不论在全世界哪一个国家里，这样的一次侮辱必然会引起一场你死我活的决斗。阿尔贝安全回来了；那末基督山伯爵一定遭受报复了。 
他那忧郁的脸上掠过一丝说不出的快乐，犹如太阳消失在云彩中，进入坟墓前的最后一丝光亮。但我们已经说过，他等了很长时间，始终不见他的儿子到他的房间里来向他叙述胜利的经过。他很懂得他的儿子在为他父亲的名誉去复仇以前为什么不先来见他；但现在复仇已经成功了，他的儿子怎么还不投到他的怀里来呢？ 
那时，伯爵既然不见阿尔贝来，便派人去找他的仆人来。 
我们应该还记得，阿尔贝曾吩咐他的仆人不必向伯爵隐瞒任何事情。十分钟以后，马尔塞夫将军身穿黑衣黑裤，系着军人的领结，戴着黑手套，出现到台阶上。显然事先他已经有过吩咐，此时，当他走到台阶的最后一级的时候，从车房里已驶出一辆车子在等着他。跟班把将军那件裹着两把剑的军人大衣扔进车子里，关上车门坐到车夫的旁边。车夫弯下身来等候他主人的吩咐。 
“香榭丽舍大街，”将军说，“基督山伯爵府。快！” 
马飞快地疾驰起来，五分钟以后，它们已来到伯爵的门口。马尔塞夫先生自己打开车门；当马车还未停妥的时候，他就象一个年轻人似的跳到阶沿上，按了铃，和他的仆人一同进门。 
一会儿以后，巴浦斯汀向基督山通报马尔塞夫伯爵来访，基督山伯爵一面送走海黛，一面吩咐请马尔塞夫伯爵到客厅里等候他。将军在客厅里来回踱着的时候，一转身使发现基督山已站在门口。 
“哦！是马尔塞夫先生，”基督山语气平静地说，“我还以为听错了呢。” 
“没错，是我，”伯爵说，由于他的嘴唇抽搐得厉害，所以没法清楚地吐出声音来。 
“可以让我知道为什么这么早有幸看见马尔塞夫先生的原因吗？” 
“你今天早晨不是和我的儿子决斗过了？”将军问。 
“您知道那件事了吗？”伯爵回答。 
“我还知道，我的儿子有很充分的理由要和你决斗，并且要豁出性命来。” 
“可不是大人，他有极充分的理由。但您看，他虽然有那样充分的理由，他却并没有杀死我，甚至不曾和我决斗。” 
“可是他认为他的父亲蒙受耻辱——使全家受奇耻大辱。” 
“不错，阁下，”基督山带着他那种可怕的镇定神色说，“这是一个次要的原因，却不是主要的原因。” 
“那么，一定是你向他道歉，或是作了某种解释了？” 
“我没有向他作任何解释，道歉的是他而不是我。” 
“但你以为这是什么原因呢？” 
“大概是他认为有一个人比我的罪更大。” 
“那个人是谁？” 
“他的父亲。” 
“或许是吧，”伯爵脸色苍白地说，“但你知道，有罪的人是不愿意让人相信他是有罪的。” 
“我知道，我已预料到这个时候要发生什么事情了。” 
“你料到我的儿子是一个懦夫！”伯爵喊道。 
“阿尔贝·马尔塞夫先生决不是一个懦夫！”基督山说。 
“一个手里握着一把剑的人看到他的仇敌就站在眼前而竟不决斗，就是一个懦夫！他为什么不到这儿？我可以当面告诉他。” 
“阁下，”基督山冷冷回答，“我想不到您这么早到这儿来向我叙述家庭琐事的。回去跟阿尔贝先生讲吧，他或许知道该怎么回答您。” 
“哦，不，不，”将军面带微笑说，但那个笑容很快就消失了，“我不是为了这个目的来的。你说得对！我是来告你：我也把你当做我的仇敌！我来告诉你：我本能地憎恨你！我好象早就认识你，而且早就恨你。总之，既然我的儿子不肯与你决斗，那就只有我与你来决斗了。你的意见如何，阁下？” 
“当然。我告诉您，说我预料将要发生什么事的时候，当然指您光临这件事。” 
“那就好了，那么，你准备好了吗？” 
“我是始终准备着的，阁下。” 
“你要知道，我们要决斗到底，直到我们之中死了一个才停止”将军狂怒地咬牙切齿地说。 
“直到我们之中死了一个才停止。”基督山复说了一遍这句话，轻轻地点点头。 
“那末我们现在就开始吧，我们不需要见证人。” 
“真的，”基督山说，“我认为这是不必要的，我们已是老相识了。” 
“正相反，”伯爵说，“我们之间非常生疏。” 
“哼！”基督山仍用那种让人猜不透的冷淡口气说，“让我们来算算看。您不就是那个在滑铁卢开战之前开小差逃走的小弗尔南多吗？您不就是那个在西班牙充当法军的向导和间谍的弗尔南多中尉吗？而这些个弗尔南多联合起来，不就变成了法国贵族院议员马尔塞夫中将了吗？” 
“噢，”将军象是被一块热铁烙了一下似的狂喊道，“混蛋！当你要杀死我的时候，竟还要数数我的耻辱！不，我并没有说你不清楚我。我知道得很清楚，恶鬼，你看透过去的黑暗，那些往事，我不知道你凭借着哪一种火炬的光，读遍了我每一页生活史，但我的耻辱比起你用华丽的外衣掩盖着的耻辱或许更可敬一些。不，不，我知道你认识我，但我却不清楚你这个裹披着金银珠宝的冒险家。你在巴黎自称为基督山伯爵，在意大利自称为水手辛巴德，在马耳他我不知道你又自称什么。但在你千百个名字中，我现在想知道的，是你的真名字，我们决斗的时候，当我把我的剑插进你的心窝的时候，我可以用那个名字来呼唤你。” 
基督山伯爵的脸苍白了；他的眼睛里似乎燃烧着一种毁灭一切的火焰。他跑到他卧室的一间更衣室里，不到一分钟，就撕下他的领结、上装、背心，穿上一件短褂和戴上一顶水手帽，水手帽底下露出他那又长又黑的头发。他就这样回来，把双手叉在胸前，带着仇深似海的表情气势汹汹地向将军走过去。将军最初不懂他为什么忽然不见，但当再见到他的时候，他的全身发起抖来，他的腿软了下去，他步步后退，直到找到一张桌子支撑住身体才停住。 
“弗尔南多！”伯爵大声说，“在我千百个名字之中，我只要告诉你一个就可以把你压倒的！你现在已经猜到了，或说得更贴切些，你还记得这个名字，不是吗？因为我虽然经历过种种忧虑和痛苦，但我今天让你看到了一个因为复仇的愉快又变得年轻了的面孔，这个面孔，自从你娶了我的未婚妻美塞苔丝后，一定是常常梦见的！” 
将军张开双手，头向后仰着，目光凝滞，默不作声地盯着这个可怕的显身；然后，他往后退靠在墙上，紧紧地贴着墙壁溜到门口，一面往后退出门口，一面发出一阵悲凉、哀伤、凄厉的叫喊：“爱德蒙·唐太斯！”然后，带着丝毫不象人声的悲叫，他踉踉跄跄地奔向门廊，踉跄般越过庭院，跌入他贴身男仆的怀抱里，用含糊不清的声音说：“回家！回家！” 
新鲜的空气和在仆人面前显露自己软弱的那种羞耻感恢复了他的一部分知觉；但那段路程太短了，当他快要到家的时候，他的全部痛苦又重新回来了。他在离家一小段路的地方下车。 
那座房子的前门大开着，一辆出租马车停在前院中央，——在这样高贵的一座大厦里面，这是一种罕见的现象。伯爵恐怖地望着这个情景，但他不敢向别人询问，只是向他自己的房间跑过去。两个人正从楼梯上走下来；他急忙躲到一个小间里来避开他们。来者是美塞苔丝，正扶着她儿子的臂膀离开这座院子。他们经过那个人的身边，将军躲在门帘后面，几乎感觉到美塞苔丝的衣服擦过他的身体，和他儿子讲话时的那股热气，这时阿尔贝正巧在这时说：“勇敢一点，妈！来，这已不是我们的家了！”语声渐渐沉寂，脚步声愈去愈远。将军直挺起身子，紧紧地抓住门帘；从一个同时被他的妻子和儿子所抛弃的父亲的胸膛里，发出了人世间最可怕的啜泣。不久，他就听到马车铁门的关闭声，车夫的吆喝声，然后，那辆笨重车子的滚动震得窗户都动起来。他跑到他的卧室里，想再看一眼他在这个世界上所爱的一切；但马车继续向前走动，美塞苔丝或阿尔贝的脸都没有在车窗上出现，他们都没有向那座被抛弃的房子和向那个被抛弃的丈夫和父亲投送最后一个告别和留恋的目光，——也许就是宽恕的目光。正当那辆马车的车轮走过门口的时候，从屋子里发出一响枪声，从一扇被震破的窗口里，冒出了一缕暗淡的轻烟。 
Chapter 93 Valentine
 WE MAY easily conceive where Morrel's appointment was. On leaving Monte Cristo he walked slowly towards Villefort's; we say slowly, for Morrel had more than half an hour to spare to go five hundred steps, but he had hastened to take leave of Monte Cristo because he wished to be alone with his thoughts. He knew his time well--the hour when Valentine was giving Noirtier his breakfast, and was sure not to be disturbed in the performance of this pious duty. Noirtier and Valentine had given him leave to go twice a week, and he was now availing himself of that permission. He had arrived; Valentine was expecting him. Uneasy and almost crazed, she seized his hand and led him to her grandfather. This uneasiness, amounting almost to frenzy, arose from the report Morcerf's adventure had made in the world, for the affair at the opera was generally known. No one at Villefort's doubted that a duel would ensue from it. Valentine, with her woman's instinct, guessed that Morrel would be Monte Cristo's second, and from the young man's well-known courage and his great affection for the count, she feared that he would not content himself with the passive part assigned to him. We may easily understand how eagerly the particulars were asked for, given, and received; and Morrel could read an indescribable joy in the eyes of his beloved, when she knew that the termination of this affair was as happy as it was unexpected. 
"Now," said Valentine, motioning to Morrel to sit down near her grandfather, while she took her seat on his footstool,--"now let us talk about our own affairs. You know, Maximilian, grandpapa once thought of leaving this house, and taking an apartment away from M. de Villefort's." 
"Yes," said Maximilian, "I recollect the project, of which I highly approved." 
"Well," said Valentine, "you may approve again, for grandpapa is again thinking of it." 
"Bravo," said Maximilian. 
"And do you know," said Valentine, "what reason grandpapa gives for leaving this house." Noirtier looked at Valentine to impose silence, but she did not notice him; her looks, her eyes, her smile, were all for Morrel. 
"Oh, whatever may be M. Noirtier's reason," answered Morrel, "I can readily believe it to be a good one." 
"An excellent one," said Valentine. "He pretends the air of the Faubourg St. Honoré is not good for me." 
"Indeed?" said Morrel; "in that M. Noirtier may be right; you have not seemed to be well for the last fortnight." 
"Not very," said Valentine. "And grandpapa has become my physician, and I have the greatest confidence in him, because he knows everything." 
"Do you then really suffer?" asked Morrel quickly. 
"Oh, it must not be called suffering; I feel a general uneasiness, that is all. I have lost my appetite, and my stomach feels as if it were struggling to get accustomed to something." Noirtier did not lose a word of what Valentine said. "And what treatment do you adopt for this singular complaint?" 
"A very simple one," said Valentine. "I swallow every morning a spoonful of the mixture prepared for my grandfather. When I say one spoonful, I began by one--now I take four. Grandpapa says it is a panacea." Valentine smiled, but it was evident that she suffered. 
Maximilian, in his devotedness, gazed silently at her. She was very beautiful, but her usual pallor had increased; her eyes were more brilliant than ever, and her hands, which were generally white like mother-of-pearl, now more resembled wax, to which time was adding a yellowish hue. From Valentine the young man looked towards Noirtier. The latter watched with strange and deep interest the young girl, absorbed by her affection, and he also, like Morrel, followed those traces of inward suffering which was so little perceptible to a common observer that they escaped the notice of every one but the grandfather and the lover. 
"But," said Morrel, "I thought this mixture, of which you now take four spoonfuls, was prepared for M. Noirtier?" 
"I know it is very bitter," said Valentine; "so bitter, that all I drink afterwards appears to have the same taste." Noirtier looked inquiringly at his granddaughter. 
"Yes, grandpapa," said Valentine; "it is so. Just now, before I came down to you, I drank a glass of sugared water; I left half, because it seemed so bitter." 
Noirtier turned pale, and made a sign that he wished to speak. Valentine rose to fetch the dictionary. Noirtier watched her with evident anguish. In fact, the blood was rushing to the young girl's head already, her cheeks were becoming red. "Oh," cried she, without losing any of her cheerfulness, "this is singular! I can't see! Did the sun shine in my eyes?" And she leaned against the window. 
"The sun is not shining," said Morrel, more alarmed by Noirtier's expression than by Valentine's indisposition. He ran towards her. The young girl smiled. "Cheer up," said she to Noirtier. "Do not be alarmed, Maximilian; it is nothing, and has already passed away. But listen! Do I not hear a carriage in the court-yard?" She opened Noirtier's door, ran to a window in the passage, and returned hastily. "Yes," said she, "it is Madame Danglars and her daughter, who have come to call on us. Good-by;--I must run away, for they would send here for me, or, rather, farewell till I see you again. Stay with grandpapa, Maximilian; I promise you not to persuade them to stay." 
Morrel watched her as she left the room; he heard her ascend the little staircase which led both to Madame de Villefort's apartments and to hers. As soon as she was gone, Noirtier made a sign to Morrel to take the dictionary. Morrel obeyed; guided by Valentine, he had learned how to understand the old man quickly. Accustomed, however, as he was to the work, he had to repeat most of the letters of the alphabet and to find every word in the dictionary, so that it was ten minutes before the thought of the old man was translated by these words, "Fetch the glass of water and the decanter from Valentine's room." 
Morrel rang immediately for the servant who had taken Barrois's situation, and in Noirtier's name gave that order. The servant soon returned. The decanter and the glass were completely empty. Noirtier made a sign that he wished to speak. "Why are the glass and decanter empty?" asked he; "Valentine said she only drank half the glassful." The translation of this new question occupied another five minutes. "I do not know," said the servant, "but the housemaid is in Mademoiselle Valentine's room: perhaps she has emptied them." 
"Ask her," said Morrel, translating Noirtier's thought this time by his look. The servant went out, but returned almost immediately. "Mademoiselle Valentine passed through the room to go to Madame de Villefort's," said he; "and in passing, as she was thirsty, she drank what remained in the glass; as for the decanter, Master Edward had emptied that to make a pond for his ducks." Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven, as a gambler does who stakes his all on one stroke. From that moment the old man's eyes were fixed on the door, and did not quit it. 
It was indeed Madame Danglars and her daughter whom Valentine had seen; they had been ushered into Madame de Villefort's room, who had said she would receive them there. That is why Valentine passed through her room, which was on a level with Valentine's, and only separated from it by Edward's. The two ladies entered the drawing-room with that sort of official stiffness which preludes a formal communication. Among worldly people manner is contagious. Madame de Villefort received them with equal solemnity. Valentine entered at this moment, and the formalities were resumed. "My dear friend," said the baroness, while the two young people were shaking hands, "I and Eugénie are come to be the first to announce to you the approaching marriage of my daughter with Prince Cavalcanti." Danglars kept up the title of prince. The popular banker found that it answered better than count. "Allow me to present you my sincere congratulations," replied Madame de Villefort. "Prince Cavalcanti appears to be a young man of rare qualities." 
"Listen," said the baroness, smiling; "speaking to you as a friend I can say that the prince does not yet appear all he will be. He has about him a little of that foreign manner by which French persons recognize, at first sight, the Italian or German nobleman. Besides, he gives evidence of great kindness of disposition, much keenness of wit, and as to suitability, M. Danglars assures me that his fortune is majestic--that is his word." 
"And then," said Eugénie, while turning over the leaves of Madame de Villefort's album, "add that you have taken a great fancy to the young man." 
"And," said Madame de Villefort, "I need not ask you if you share that fancy." 
"I?" replied Eugénie with her usual candor. "Oh, not the least in the world, madame! My wish was not to confine myself to domestic cares, or the caprices of any man, but to be an artist, and consequently free in heart, in person, and in thought." Eugénie pronounced these words with so firm a tone that the color mounted to Valentine's cheeks. The timid girl could not understand that vigorous nature which appeared to have none of the timidities of woman. 
"At any rate," said she, "since I am to be married whether I will or not, I ought to be thankful to providence for having released me from my engagement with M. Albert de Morcerf, or I should this day have been the wife of a dishonored man." 
"It is true," said the baroness, with that strange simplicity sometimes met with among fashionable ladies, and of which plebeian intercourse can never entirely deprive them,--"it is very true that had not the Morcerfs hesitated, my daughter would have married Monsieur Albert. The general depended much on it; he even came to force M. Danglars. We have had a narrow escape." 
"But," said Valentine, timidly, "does all the father's shame revert upon the son? Monsieur Albert appears to me quite innocent of the treason charged against the general." 
"Excuse me," said the implacable young girl, "Monsieur Albert claims and well deserves his share. It appears that after having challenged M. de Monte Cristo at the Opera yesterday, he apologized on the ground to-day." 
"Impossible," said Madame de Villefort. 
"Ah, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, with the same simplicity we before noticed, "it is a fact. I heard it from M. Debray, who was present at the explanation." Valentine also knew the truth, but she did not answer. A single word had reminded her that Morrel was expecting her in M. Noirtier's room. Deeply engaged with a sort of inward contemplation, Valentine had ceased for a moment to join in the conversation. She would, indeed, have found it impossible to repeat what had been said the last few minutes, when suddenly Madame Danglars' hand, pressed on her arm, aroused her from her lethargy. 
"What is it?" said she, starting at Madame Danglars, touch as she would have done from an electric shock. "It is, my dear Valentine," said the baroness, "that you are, doubtless, suffering." 
"I?" said the young girl, passing her hand across her burning forehead. 
"Yes, look at yourself in that glass; you have turned pale and then red successively, three or four times in one minute." 
"Indeed," cried Eugénie, "you are very pale!" 
"Oh, do not be alarmed; I have been so for many days." Artless as she was, the young girl knew that this was an opportunity to leave, and besides, Madame de Villefort came to her assistance. "Retire, Valentine," said she; "you are really suffering, and these ladies will excuse you; drink a glass of pure water, it will restore you." Valentine kissed Eugénie, bowed to Madame Danglars, who had already risen to take her leave, and went out. "That poor child," said Madame de Villefort when Valentine was gone, "she makes me very uneasy, and I should not be astonished if she had some serious illness." 
Meanwhile, Valentine, in a sort of excitement which she could not quite understand, had crossed Edward's room without noticing some trick of the child, and through her own had reached the little staircase. She was within three steps of the bottom; she already heard Morrel's voice, when suddenly a cloud passed over her eyes, her stiffened foot missed the step, her hands had no power to hold the baluster, and falling against the wall she lost her balance wholly and toppled to the floor. Morrel bounded to the door, opened it, and found Valentine stretched out at the bottom of the stairs. Quick as a flash, he raised her in his arms and placed her in a chair. Valentine opened her eyes. 
"Oh, what a clumsy thing I am," said she with feverish volubility; "I don't know my way. I forgot there were three more steps before the landing." 
"You have hurt yourself, perhaps," said Morrel. "What can I do for you, Valentine?" Valentine looked around her; she saw the deepest terror depicted in Noirtier's eyes. "Don't worry, dear grandpapa," said she, endeavoring to smile; "it is nothing--it is nothing; I was giddy, that is all." 
"Another attack of giddiness," said Morrel, clasping his hands. "Oh, attend to it, Valentine, I entreat you." 
"But no," said Valentine,--"no, I tell you it is all past, and it was nothing. Now, let me tell you some news; Eugénie is to be married in a week, and in three days there is to be a grand feast, a betrothal festival. We are all invited, my father, Madame de Villefort, and I--at least, I understood it so." 
"When will it be our turn to think of these things? Oh, Valentine, you who have so much influence over your grandpapa, try to make him answer--Soon." 
"And do you," said Valentine, "depend on me to stimulate the tardiness and arouse the memory of grandpapa?" 
"Yes," cried Morrel, "make haste. So long as you are not mine, Valentine, I shall always think I may lose you." 
"Oh," replied Valentine with a convulsive movement, "oh, indeed, Maximilian, you are too timid for an officer, for a soldier who, they say, never knows fear. Ah, ha, ha!" she burst into a forced and melancholy laugh, her arms stiffened and twisted, her head fell back on her chair, and she remained motionless. The cry of terror which was stopped on Noirtier's lips, seemed to start from his eyes. Morrel understood it; he knew he must call assistance. The young man rang the bell violently; the housemaid who had been in Mademoiselle Valentine's room, and the servant who had replaced Barrois, ran in at the same moment. Valentine was so pale, so cold, so inanimate that without listening to what was said to them they were seized with the fear which pervaded that house, and they flew into the passage crying for help. Madame Danglars and Eugénie were going out at that moment; they heard the cause of the disturbance. "I told you so!" exclaimed Madame de Villefort. "Poor child!"  
我们很容易推测到莫雷尔所说的事情以及他将要去见的人。离开基督山伯爵以后，他慢慢地向维尔福的家里走去；我们说“慢慢地”，因为他有半个多钟头的时间去走五百多步路，但他刚才之所以急于要离开基督山，是因为他希望要独自思索一会儿。他对于自己的时间知道得很清楚，——现在正是瓦朗蒂娜伺候诺瓦蒂埃用早餐的时候，而这种孝顺的行为当然不愿被人打扰的。诺瓦蒂埃和瓦朗蒂娜允许他每星期去两次，他现在正是利用那份权利。他到了，瓦朗蒂娜正在等着他。她不安地，几乎狂乱地抓住他的手，领他去见她的祖父。 
这种几乎近于狂乱的不安是由马尔塞夫事件引起的；歌剧院里的那件事大家都已知道。维尔福家里的人谁都不会怀疑那件事情将引起一场决斗。瓦朗蒂娜凭着她那女性的直觉，猜到莫雷尔将做基督山的陪证人；而由于那青年的勇敢和他对伯爵的友谊，她恐怕他不会当个证人，袖手旁观。我们很容易想象得到，瓦朗蒂娜如何急切地问决斗的详细情形以及莫雷尔如何向她解释那一切，当瓦朗蒂娜知道这件事情得到这样一个意外可喜的结果时，莫雷尔从他爱人的眼睛里看一种无法形容的欢喜。 
“现在，”瓦朗蒂娜示意请莫雷尔坐在她祖父的旁边，她自己也在祖父面前的小矮凳上坐下来，说，——“现在来谈谈我们之间的事情吧。你知道，马西米兰，爷爷有一阵了，曾经打算离开这座房子，与维尔福先生分开住。” 
“是的，”马西米兰说，“我记得那个计划，而且当时非常赞同那个计划。” 
“嗯，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“你现在又可以赞成了，因为爷爷又想到那个计划啦。” 
“好得很！”马西米兰说。 
“你可知道爷爷要离开这座房子的理由吗？”瓦朗蒂娜说。 
诺瓦蒂埃望着瓦朗蒂娜，意思是叫她不要说出来，但她并没有注意到这一切，她的表情，她的眼光，她的微笑，一切都为了莫雷尔。 
“噢！不论诺瓦蒂埃先生是什么原因搬出去，”莫雷尔答道，“我相信一定是很有道理的。” 
“非常有道理！”瓦朗蒂娜说。“他的理由是圣·奥诺路的空气对我很适宜。” 
“说实话！”莫雷尔说，“那一点，诺瓦蒂埃先生或应该是对的，我发现两个星期以来你的身体变坏了。” 
“对，有点不好，这是真的，”瓦朗蒂娜说。“爷爷现在已成了我的私人医生了，我非常信任他，因为他什么都知道。” 
“那末你真的病了？”莫雷尔关心地问。 
“哦，那不能说是病，我只是觉得周身不舒服。我没有食欲，我的胃象是在翻腾，象要消化什么食物似的。” 
诺瓦蒂埃对瓦朗蒂娜所说的话一个字都没有漏过。 
“你用什么方法来治疗这种怪病呢？” 
“非常简单，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我每天早晨吃一匙羹给我祖父吃的那种药。我说一匙羹，——是说我开始的时候吃一匙羹，现在我吃四匙羹了。爷爷说那是一种万灵药。”瓦朗蒂娜微笑了一下，但她显然很忧郁和痛苦。 
沉醉在爱情中的马西米兰默默地注视着她。她非常美丽，但她往常苍白的脸色现在更苍白了；她的眼睛比以前更明亮，而她的双手，本来象珍珠那样白的，现在则象陈年的白蜡那样有点泛黄了。马西米兰把眼光从瓦朗蒂娜移到诺瓦蒂埃身上。他正带着一种非常关切的神色望着他的青年女郎，他也象莫雷尔一样看出了这种病态的证状，这种病症虽然非常轻微，但却逃不过祖父和爱人的眼睛。 
“但是，”莫雷尔说，“我想这种药，就是你现在吃四匙羹的那种药，本来是开给诺瓦蒂埃先生服用的吧？” 
“我知道它非常苦，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“苦得我以后不论喝什么东西似乎都带有这种苦涩。”诺瓦蒂埃疑问地望着他的孙女儿。“是的，爷爷，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“的确是这样。刚才，在我到你这来以前，我喝了一杯糖水，我只喝了一半，因为它似乎太苦了。” 
诺瓦蒂埃的脸色变得苍白起来，示意他想说话。瓦朗蒂娜站起来去拿字典。诺瓦蒂埃带着显而易见的神色注视着她。 
的确，血冲到那青年女郎的头部来了；她的两颊开始发红。 
“噢！”她喊道，但还是很高兴，“这就怪了！一道亮光！是太阳照到我的眼睛了吗？”她靠在窗口。 
“没有太阳。”莫雷尔说，诺瓦蒂埃的表情要比瓦朗蒂娜的身体不舒服更使他更惊慌。他向她奔过去。 
瓦朗蒂娜那青年女郎微笑了一下。“放心吧！”她对诺瓦蒂埃说。“别惊慌，马西米兰，没有什么，已经过去了。听！ 
我听到前院里有马车的声音。”她打开诺瓦蒂埃的房门，走到走廊的窗口前，又急忙转回来。“是的，”她说，“是腾格拉尔夫人和她的女儿，她们来拜访我们了。告别了！我必须赶快去，因为她们会派人到这儿来找我的，我不要说，再见。陪着爷爷，马西米兰，我答应你，不去留她们。” 
莫雷尔目送她离开房间，他听她走上那座通到维尔福夫人的房间和她的房间去的小楼梯。她一走，诺瓦蒂埃便向莫雷尔作了一个要那本字典的表示。莫雷尔遵命，他在瓦朗蒂娜的指导之下，已很快地学会如何懂得那老人的意思。他虽然已经熟练，但因为要背诵字母，要把每一个字从字典里找来，所以花了十分钟才把老人的思想译成这几个字：“把瓦朗蒂娜房间里的那杯水和玻璃瓶拿来给我看一看。” 
莫雷尔立刻按铃招呼进那个接替巴罗斯的仆人，按照诺瓦蒂埃的意思作了那个吩咐。仆人不久就回来了。玻璃瓶和玻璃杯都已完全空了。诺瓦蒂埃表示他想说话。“玻璃杯和玻璃瓶怎么会空？”他问，“瓦朗蒂娜说她只喝了一半。”这个新问题的翻译又花了五分钟。 
“我不知道，”仆人说，“但婢女在瓦朗蒂娜小姐的房间里。或许是她倒空的。” 
“去问她。”莫雷尔说，这一次，他从诺瓦蒂埃的眼光读懂了他的思想了。 
仆人出去，但几乎马上就回来。“瓦朗蒂娜小姐到维尔福夫人那儿去的时候经过卧房，”他说，“经过的时候，因为口渴，她喝干了那杯糖水。至于玻璃瓶，爱德华先生把它倒给他的鸭子做池塘了。”诺瓦蒂埃抬头望天，象是一个赌徒在孤注一掷时的表情一样。从那时起，老人的眼睛便始终盯住门口，不再移动。 
瓦朗蒂娜所接见的的确是腾格拉尔夫人和她的女儿；她们已被领进维尔福夫人的房间里，因为维尔福夫人说要在那儿接见她们。那就是瓦朗蒂娜为什么会经过她房间的缘故。她的房间和她继母的房间同在一排上，中间就隔着爱德华的房间。腾格拉尔夫人母女进入客厅的时候，脸上带着要报告一个正式消息的那种神气。在上流社会中，察颜观色是每一个人的本领，维尔福夫人便也用庄严的神色来接待。这个时候，瓦朗蒂娜进来了，那种庄严的仪式便又扮演了一遍。 
“我亲爱的朋友，”当那两位青年姑娘在握手的时候，男爵夫人说，“我带欧热妮来向你宣布一个消息：我的女儿与卡瓦尔康蒂王子的婚期快要到了。” 
腾格拉尔保持着“王子”的衔头。那位平民化的银行家觉得这个衔头比“子爵”更顺口。 
“允许我先衷心地祝贺你，”维尔福夫人答道。“卡瓦尔康蒂王子阁下看来是一个性情高雅的青年人。” 
“听着，”男爵夫人微笑着说，“从朋友的立场来讲，我就要说，这位王子在外表上似乎还看不出他的未来。他带有一点外国人的风度，法国人一见就认得出他是意大利或德国贵族。但是，他的本性非常仁厚，资质十分敏慧，腾格拉尔先生曾向我说过，他的财产真是‘壮观’——那可是他的话。” 
“那末，”欧热妮一面翻看维尔福夫人的纪念册，一面说，“再加一句吧，妈，说你对那个青年人存着很大的希望。” 
“不用我问，”维尔福夫人说，“你不是也抱有同样的希望吗？” 
“我！”欧热妮仍以她往常那果断恣肆的口气答道。“噢，丝毫没有，夫人！我的天性不愿意把自己拴在家庭琐事或应付任何一个男子，而希望成为一名艺术家，求得心灵、身体和思想的自由。” 
欧热妮说这些话的口气是那样的坚决，以致瓦朗蒂娜的脸红了起来。那个胆怯的姑娘不能了解这种好象不属于女性的强硬的个性。 
“但是，”欧热妮继续说，“既然不论是否我愿意都得结婚，我就应该感谢上帝解除了我与阿尔贝先生的婚约，要不是他的干涉，我今天或许是一个声名狼藉的人的妻子了。” 
“不错，”男爵夫人直率地说，这种率直的口气在平民的谈话中是常见的，在贵妇人之间的谈话中有时也是可以见到的——“一点不错，要不是马尔塞夫犹豫不决，我的女儿就嫁给阿尔贝先生啦。将军自以为很有把握，他甚至来胁迫腾格拉尔先生。我们幸免了一劫。” 
“但是，”瓦朗蒂娜怯生生地说，“难道父亲的一切耻辱都要转移到儿子身上的吗？在我看来，将军的叛逆罪与阿尔贝先生是完全没有关的呀。” 
“原谅我，”欧热妮深恶痛绝地说，“阿尔贝先生应该逃脱不了那种羞耻。听说昨天在歌剧院里向基督山先生挑战以后，今天他在决斗场上道歉了。” 
“不可能的！”维尔福夫人说。 
“啊，我亲爱的朋友，”腾格拉尔夫人用象刚才同样直率口气说，“这是事实！我是听德布雷先生说的，今天道歉的时候他也在场。” 
瓦朗蒂娜也知道事实的全部真相，但她并不回答。她只记得莫雷尔还在诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间里等候她。由于内心在这样踌躇思索，瓦朗蒂娜暂时没有参加他们谈话。刚才她们所说的话，她实在没有听清楚；突然地，腾格拉尔夫人的手抓住她的臂膀，把她从精神恍惚状态中摇醒过来。 
“怎么了？”他说，腾格拉尔夫人的手把她吓了一跳，象是触了电一样。 
“我亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，”男爵夫人说，“你一定病了。” 
“我？”瓦朗蒂娜姑娘说，一面用手摸一摸她那滚烫的额头。“是的，到对面镜子里去看看你自己吧。你的脸色一阵白一阵红，一分钟要变三四次。” 
“是的，”欧热妮喊道，“你的脸色非常苍白！” 
“噢，不用着慌！我这样已经好几天了。” 
她虽然不善外交辞令，但也知道这是一个离开的机会；而且，维尔福夫人也来帮她忙了。“休息去吧，瓦朗蒂娜，”她说，“你真的病了，她们会体谅你的。去喝一杯清水，它可以恢复你的精神。” 
瓦朗蒂娜吻了一下欧热妮，向腾格拉尔夫人深深鞠了一躬，走出房间；腾格拉尔夫人这时已站起身来告辞。 
“那可怜的孩子！”瓦朗蒂娜去后，维尔福夫人说，“她使我非常不安，我恐怕她要生一场大病了。” 
这时，瓦朗蒂娜在一种莫名的兴奋中，已走过爱德华的房间和她自己的房间，到达那座小楼梯口。她走下楼梯，当还只有三级楼梯未走完的时候，她已经听到莫雷尔的声音，但突然地，她眼前一阵发黑，她的脚摇摇晃晃地踩不到踏级，她的手无力握住栏杆，她撞到墙上。莫雷尔跑到门口，打开门，发现瓦朗蒂娜躺在地板上。他一把抱起她来，把她放到一张椅子里。瓦朗蒂娜张开了她的眼睛。 
“噢，我多笨哪！”她解释说，“我认不得路啦。我忘了还有三级才到地。” 
“你跌伤了吗？”莫雷尔说，“我能为你做些什么呢，瓦朗蒂娜？” 
瓦朗蒂娜向四周环顾了一下；她看到了诺瓦蒂埃眼睛里那种使人害怕的表情。“你放心吧，亲爱的爷爷，”她说，并极力想微笑。“没有什么——没有什么，我只是有点头晕而已。” 
“又头晕了！”莫雷尔搓着双手说。“噢，要注意呀，瓦朗蒂娜，我求求你。” 
“不，”瓦朗蒂娜说，——“不，我告诉你那一切都已过去了，没有什么了。现在，让我来告诉你一个好消息吧。欧热妮在一星期内要结婚了，三天之后，就要有一场盛大的宴会，一个订婚宴会。我们都被邀了，我父亲、维尔福夫人和我，——至少我猜想是如此。” 
“那末，什么时候轮到我们准备我们自己的事情呢？噢，瓦朗蒂娜，你，你的爷爷这样听你话，设法使他回答说‘快了’吧。” 
“而你，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“要靠我来督促爷爷，唤醒他的记忆吗？” 
“是的，”莫雷尔喊道，“要快！在你还不完全属于我的时候，瓦朗蒂娜，我老是以为我不久就会失掉你。” 
“噢！”瓦朗蒂娜带着一个痉挛的动作答道，“噢，真的，马西米兰，你太胆小了，不配做军官，因为，他们说，一个军人是从不知道害怕的呀。哈！哈！哈！” 
她爆发出一阵阵痛苦的大笑声；她的手臂僵硬地抽搐；她的头仰在椅背上，接着她就一动不动了。那冻结在诺瓦蒂埃嘴唇上恐怖的喊叫似乎从他的眼睛里发了出来。莫雷尔懂得那种眼光的意思；他知道必须找人来帮助。他猛烈地拉铃，在瓦朗蒂娜小姐房间里的女婢和那个代替巴罗斯的男仆同时奔进来。瓦朗蒂娜那苍白，冷冰冰地缺少生气的脸，使他们不必听什么话，就已感到弥漫在那座房子里的恐怖气氛，于是就飞奔到走廊里去呼救。腾格拉尔夫人和欧热妮那时正在出来，她们听见了慌乱的原因。 
“我对你们说过了的！”维尔福夫人喊道。“可怜的孩子！” 
Chapter 95 Father and Daughter
 WE SAW in a preceding chapter how Madame Danglars went formally to announce to Madame de Villefort the approaching marriage of Eugénie Danglars and M. Andrea Cavalcanti. This announcement, which implied or appeared to imply, the approval of all the persons concerned in this momentous affair, had been preceded by a scene to which our readers must be admitted. We beg them to take one step backward, and to transport themselves, the morning of that day of great catastrophes, into the showy, gilded salon we have before shown them, and which was the pride of its owner, Baron Danglars. In this room, at about ten o'clock in the morning, the banker himself had been walking to and fro for some minutes thoughtfully and in evident uneasiness, watching both doors, and listening to every sound. When his patience was exhausted, he called his valet. "Etienne," said he, "see why Mademoiselle Eugénie has asked me to meet her in the drawing-room, and why she makes me wait so long." 
Having given this vent to his ill-humor, the baron became more calm; Mademoiselle Danglars had that morning requested an interview with her father, and had fixed on the gilded drawing-room as the spot. The singularity of this step, and above all its formality, had not a little surprised the banker, who had immediately obeyed his daughter by repairing first to the drawing-room. Etienne soon returned from his errand. "Mademoiselle's lady's maid says, sir, that mademoiselle is finishing her toilette, and will be here shortly." 
Danglars nodded, to signify that he was satisfied. To the world and to his servants Danglars assumed the character of the good-natured man and the indulgent father. This was one of his parts in the popular comedy he was performing,--a make-up he had adopted and which suited him about as well as the masks worn on the classic stage by paternal actors, who seen from one side, were the image of geniality, and from the other showed lips drawn down in chronic ill-temper. Let us hasten to say that in private the genial side descended to the level of the other, so that generally the indulgent man disappeared to give place to the brutal husband and domineering father. "Why the devil does that foolish girl, who pretends to wish to speak to me, not come into my study? and why on earth does she want to speak to me at all?" 
He was turning this thought over in his brain for the twentieth time, when the door opened and Eugénie appeared, attired in a figured black satin dress, her hair dressed and gloves on, as if she were going to the Italian Opera. "Well, Eugénie, what is it you want with me? and why in this solemn drawing-room when the study is so comfortable?" 
"I quite understand why you ask, sir," said Eugénie, making a sign that her father might be seated, "and in fact your two questions suggest fully the theme of our conversation. I will answer them both, and contrary to the usual method, the last first, because it is the least difficult. I have chosen the drawing-room, sir, as our place of meeting, in order to avoid the disagreeable impressions and influences of a banker's study. Those gilded cashbooks, drawers locked like gates of fortresses, heaps of bank-bills, come from I know not where, and the quantities of letters from England, Holland, Spain, India, China, and Peru, have generally a strange influence on a father's mind, and make him forget that there is in the world an interest greater and more sacred than the good opinion of his correspondents. I have, therefore, chosen this drawing-room, where you see, smiling and happy in their magnificent frames, your portrait, mine, my mother's, and all sorts of rural landscapes and touching pastorals. I rely much on external impressions; perhaps, with regard to you, they are immaterial, but I should be no artist if I had not some fancies." 
"Very well," replied M. Danglars, who had listened to all this preamble with imperturbable coolness, but without understanding a word, since like every man burdened with thoughts of the past, he was occupied with seeking the thread of his own ideas in those of the speaker. 
"There is, then, the second point cleared up, or nearly so," said Eugénie, without the least confusion, and with that masculine pointedness which distinguished her gesture and her language; "and you appear satisfied with the explanation. Now, let us return to the first. You ask me why I have requested this interview; I will tell you in two words, sir; I will not marry count Andrea Cavalcanti." 
Danglars leaped from his chair and raised his eyes and arms towards heaven. 
"Yes, indeed, sir," continued Eugénie, still quite calm; "you are astonished, I see; for since this little affair began, I have not manifested the slightest opposition, and yet I am always sure, when the opportunity arrives, to oppose a determined and absolute will to people who have not consulted me, and things which displease me. However, this time, my tranquillity, or passiveness as philosophers say, proceeded from another source; it proceeded from a wish, like a submissive and devoted daughter" (a slight smile was observable on the purple lips of the young girl), "to practice obedience." 
"Well?" asked Danglars. 
"Well, sir," replied Eugénie, "I have tried to the very last and now that the moment has come, I feel in spite of all my efforts that it is impossible." 
"But," said Danglars, whose weak mind was at first quite overwhelmed with the weight of this pitiless logic, marking evident premeditation and force of will, "what is your reason for this refusal, Eugénie? what reason do you assign?" 
"My reason?" replied the young girl. "Well, it is not that the man is more ugly, more foolish, or more disagreeable than any other; no, M. Andrea Cavalcanti may appear to those who look at men's faces and figures as a very good specimen of his kind. It is not, either, that my heart is less touched by him than any other; that would be a schoolgirl's reason, which I consider quite beneath me. I actually love no one, sir; you know it, do you not? I do not then see why, without real necessity, I should encumber my life with a perpetual companion. Has not some sage said, 'Nothing too much'? and another, 'I carry all my effects with me'? I have been taught these two aphorisms in Latin and in Greek; one is, I believe, from Ph?drus, and the other from Bias. Well, my dear father, in the shipwreck of life--for life is an eternal shipwreck of our hopes--I cast into the sea my useless encumbrance, that is all, and I remain with my own will, disposed to live perfectly alone, and consequently perfectly free." 
"Unhappy girl, unhappy girl!" murmured Danglars, turning pale, for he knew from long experience the solidity of the obstacle he had so suddenly encountered. 
"Unhappy girl," replied Eugénie, "unhappy girl, do you say, sir? No, indeed; the exclamation appears quite theatrical and affected. Happy, on the contrary, for what am I in want of! The world calls me beautiful. It is something to be well received. I like a favorable reception; it expands the countenance, and those around me do not then appear so ugly. I possess a share of wit, and a certain relative sensibility, which enables me to draw from life in general, for the support of mine, all I meet with that is good, like the monkey who cracks the nut to get at its contents. I am rich, for you have one of the first fortunes in France. I am your only daughter, and you are not so exacting as the fathers of the Porte Saint-Martin and Gaieté, who disinherit their daughters for not giving them grandchildren. Besides, the provident law has deprived you of the power to disinherit me, at least entirely, as it has also of the power to compel me to marry Monsieur This or Monsieur That. And so--being, beautiful, witty, somewhat talented, as the comic operas say, and rich--and that is happiness, sir--why do you call me unhappy?" 
Danglars, seeing his daughter smiling, and proud even to insolence, could not entirely repress his brutal feelings, but they betrayed themselves only by an exclamation. Under the fixed and inquiring gaze levelled at him from under those beautiful black eyebrows, he prudently turned away, and calmed himself immediately, daunted by the power of a resolute mind. "Truly, my daughter," replied he with a smile, "you are all you boast of being, excepting one thing; I will not too hastily tell you which, but would rather leave you to guess it." Eugénie looked at Danglars, much surprised that one flower of her crown of pride, with which she had so superbly decked herself, should be disputed. "My daughter," continued the banker, "you have perfectly explained to me the sentiments which influence a girl like you, who is determined she will not marry; now it remains for me to tell you the motives of a father like me, who has decided that his daughter shall marry." Eugénie bowed, not as a submissive daughter, but as an adversary prepared for a discussion. 
"My daughter," continued Danglars, "when a father asks his daughter to choose a husband, he has always some reason for wishing her to marry. Some are affected with the mania of which you spoke just now, that of living again in their grandchildren. This is not my weakness, I tell you at once; family joys have no charm for me. I may acknowledge this to a daughter whom I know to be philosophical enough to understand my indifference, and not to impute it to me as a crime." 
"This is not to the purpose," said Eugénie; "let us speak candidly, sir; I admire candor." 
"Oh," said Danglars, "I can, when circumstances render it desirable, adopt your system, although it may not be my general practice. I will therefore proceed. I have proposed to you to marry, not for your sake, for indeed I did not think of you in the least at the moment (you admire candor, and will now be satisfied, I hope); but because it suited me to marry you as soon as possible, on account of certain commercial speculations I am desirous of entering into." Eugénie became uneasy. 
"It is just as I tell you, I assure you, and you must not be angry with me, for you have sought this disclosure. I do not willingly enter into arithmetical explanations with an artist like you, who fears to enter my study lest she should imbibe disagreeable or anti-poetic impressions and sensations. But in that same banker's study, where you very willingly presented yourself yesterday to ask for the thousand francs I give you monthly for pocket-money, you must know, my dear young lady, that many things may be learned, useful even to a girl who will not marry. There one may learn, for instance, what, out of regard to your nervous susceptibility, I will inform you of in the drawing-room, namely, that the credit of a banker is his physical and moral life; that credit sustains him as breath animates the body; and M. de Monte Cristo once gave me a lecture on that subject, which I have never forgotten. There we may learn that as credit sinks, the body becomes a corpse, and this is what must happen very soon to the banker who is proud to own so good a logician as you for his daughter." But Eugénie, instead of stooping, drew herself up under the blow. "Ruined?" said she. 
"Exactly, my daughter; that is precisely what I mean," said Danglars, almost digging his nails into his breast, while he preserved on his harsh features the smile of the heartless though clever man; "ruined--yes, that is it." 
"Ah!" said Eugénie. 
"Yes, ruined! Now it is revealed, this secret so full of horror, as the tragic poet says. Now, my daughter, learn from my lips how you may alleviate this misfortune, so far as it will affect you." 
"Oh," cried Eugénie, "you are a bad physiognomist, if you imagine I deplore on my own account the catastrophe of which you warn me. I ruined? and what will that signify to me? Have I not my talent left? Can I not, like Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, acquire for myself what you would never have given me, whatever might have been your fortune, a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand livres per annum, for which I shall be indebted to no one but myself; and which, instead of being given as you gave me those poor twelve thousand francs, with sour looks and reproaches for my prodigality, will be accompanied with acclamations, with bravos, and with flowers? And if I do not possess that talent, which your smiles prove to me you doubt, should I not still have that ardent love of independence, which will be a substitute for wealth, and which in my mind supersedes even the instinct of self-preservation? No, I grieve not on my own account, I shall always find a resource; my books, my pencils, my piano, all the things which cost but little, and which I shall be able to procure, will remain my own. 
"Do you think that I sorrow for Madame Danglars? Undeceive yourself again; either I am greatly mistaken, or she has provided against the catastrophe which threatens you, and, which will pass over without affecting her. She has taken care for herself,--at least I hope so,--for her attention has not been diverted from her projects by watching over me. She has fostered my independence by professedly indulging my love for liberty. Oh, no, sir; from my childhood I have seen too much, and understood too much, of what has passed around me, for misfortune to have an undue power over me. From my earliest recollections, I have been beloved by no one--so much the worse; that has naturally led me to love no one--so much the better--now you have my profession of faith." 
"Then," said Danglars, pale with anger, which was not at all due to offended paternal love,--"then, mademoiselle, you persist in your determination to accelerate my ruin?" 
"Your ruin? I accelerate your ruin? What do you mean? I do not understand you." 
"So much the better, I have a ray of hope left; listen." 
"I am all attention," said Eugénie, looking so earnestly at her father that it was an effort for the latter to endure her unrelenting gaze. 
"M. Cavalcanti," continued Danglars, "is about to marry you, and will place in my hands his fortune, amounting to three million livres." 
"That is admirable!" said Eugénie with sovereign contempt, smoothing her gloves out one upon the other. 
"You think I shall deprive you of those three millions," said Danglars; "but do not fear it. They are destined to produce at least ten. I and a brother banker have obtained a grant of a railway, the only industrial enterprise which in these days promises to make good the fabulous prospects that Law once held out to the eternally deluded Parisians, in the fantastic Mississippi scheme. As I look at it, a millionth part of a railway is worth fully as much as an acre of waste land on the banks of the Ohio. We make in our case a deposit, on a mortgage, which is an advance, as you see, since we gain at least ten, fifteen, twenty, or a hundred livres' worth of iron in exchange for our money. Well, within a week I am to deposit four millions for my share; the four millions, I promise you, will produce ten or twelve." 
"But during my visit to you the day before yesterday, sir, which you appear to recollect so well," replied Eugénie, "I saw you arranging a deposit--is not that the term?--of five millions and a half; you even pointed it out to me in two drafts on the treasury, and you were astonished that so valuable a paper did not dazzle my eyes like lightning." 
"Yes, but those five millions and a half are not mine, and are only a proof of the great confidence placed in me; my title of popular banker has gained me the confidence of charitable institutions, and the five millions and a half belong to them; at any other time I should not have hesitated to make use of them, but the great losses I have recently sustained are well known, and, as I told you, my credit is rather shaken. That deposit may be at any moment withdrawn, and if I had employed it for another purpose, I should bring on me a disgraceful bankruptcy. I do not despise bankruptcies, believe me, but they must be those which enrich, not those which ruin. Now, if you marry M. Cavalcanti, and I get the three millions, or even if it is thought I am going to get them, my credit will be restored, and my fortune, which for the last month or two has been swallowed up in gulfs which have been opened in my path by an inconceivable fatality, will revive. Do you understand me?" 
"Perfectly; you pledge me for three millions, do you not?" 
"The greater the amount, the more flattering it is to you; it gives you an idea of your value." 
"Thank you. One word more, sir; do you promise me to make what use you can of the report of the fortune M. Cavalcanti will bring without touching the money? This is no act of selfishness, but of delicacy. I am willing to help rebuild your fortune, but I will not be an accomplice in the ruin of others." 
"But since I tell you," cried Danglars, "that with these three million"-- 
"Do you expect to recover your position, sir, without touching those three million?" 
"I hope so, if the marriage should take place and confirm my credit." 
"Shall you be able to pay M. Cavalcanti the five hundred thousand francs you promise for my dowry?" 
"He shall receive then on returning from the mayor's."* 
* The performance of the civil marriage. 
"Very well!" 
"What next? what more do you want?" 
"I wish to know if, in demanding my signature, you leave me entirely free in my person?" 
"Absolutely." 
"Then, as I said before, sir,--very well; I am ready to marry M. Cavalcanti." 
"But what are you up to?" 
"Ah, that is my affair. What advantage should I have over you, if knowing your secret I were to tell you mine?" Danglars bit his lips. "Then," said he, "you are ready to pay the official visits, which are absolutely indispensable?" 
"Yes," replied Eugénie. 
"And to sign the contract in three days?" 
"Yes." 
"Then, in my turn, I also say, very well!" Danglars pressed his daughter's hand in his. But, extraordinary to relate, the father did not say, "Thank you, my child," nor did the daughter smile at her father. "Is the conference ended?" asked Eugénie, rising. Danglars motioned that he had nothing more to say. Five minutes afterwards the piano resounded to the touch of Mademoiselle d'Armilly's fingers, and Mademoiselle Danglars was singing Brabantio's malediction on Desdemona. At the end of the piece Etienne entered, and announced to Eugénie that the horses were in the carriage, and that the baroness was waiting for her to pay her visits. We have seen them at Villefort's; they proceeded then on their course.  
我们在前一章　里曾提到腾格拉尔夫人到维尔福夫人那儿正式公布了欧热妮·腾格拉尔和安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂的婚期。这个公布表示，看上去似乎表明，一切跟这件事有关系的人都似乎同意了这件事，但在作这个决定以前，还曾发生过一幕我们的读者不十分清楚的场面。我们要求读者们回到马尔塞夫伯爵自杀的那天早晨，走进腾格拉尔男爵引以自豪的那间华丽的镀金的客厅。在那间客厅里，约莫在早晨十点钟的时候，银行家在那儿踱来踱去；他已踱了大约很长一段时间，脸上露出深思而惶恐不安的神情，注意着每一扇门，倾听着每一个声音。他终于耐不住了，吩咐他的仆人。“依脱尼，” 
他说，“去看看为什么欧热妮小姐要我在客厅里等她而又叫我等这么久。” 
发了一阵脾气以后，男爵心里觉得平静了。腾格拉尔小姐那天早晨曾要求见她的父亲一次，并指定客厅作为会见的地方。这个奇怪的做法并没有使那位银行家感到惊奇，他立刻遵从他女儿的意愿，先到客厅等候。依脱尼不久就回来交差了。“小姐的婢女告诉我，”他说，“小姐快要梳妆完毕了，一会儿就来。” 
腾格拉尔点点头，表示他很满意。对外界和对他的仆人，腾格拉尔象是一位好好先生又象是一位软弱的父亲。这是他在这幕喜剧里所扮演的角色之一；这个角色对他很合适，正如在古代的戏剧中，有些父亲的假面具，右嘴唇是向上翘的，带笑的，而左嘴唇是向下垂的，假装哭泣的。我们得赶快声明一句，在内心，那副笑嘴笑脸常常消失而露出那副死板的面孔来的；所以我们经常见不到那个宽厚大度的人而只见到那残酷的丈夫和专制的父亲。“那傻丫头既然想和我说话，为什么不到我的书房里来呢？而她为什么要和我谈话呢？” 
正当他把这个恼人的念头在他的脑子里转到第二十遍的时候，客厅门开了，欧热妮走了进来，她穿着一件贴身的缎子衣服，头发梳得齐齐整整，戴着手套，象是得到意大利歌剧院去看戏的。 
“噢，欧热妮，你有什么事要跟我说？为什么不到舒服的书房里去而要到这庄严的客厅里来？” 
“您说得对，阁下，”欧热妮说，并示意请她的父亲坐下来，“因为您提出了两个问题，这两个问题可以包括在我们下面的全部谈话中去。两个这问题我都要回答，而我却违反常规，先来回答第二个问题，因为这个问题比较简单。阁下，我之所以选择客厅作为我们见面的地点，是为了要避免一位银行家的书房里的那种令人不快乐的印象所产生的影响。那些烫金的账簿，那些象堡垒的大门那样锁得严严的抽屉，那些我不知道从哪儿来的成堆的票据，以及那些从英国、荷兰、西班牙、印度、中国和秘鲁寄来的一叠叠的信件，通常会对一个父亲的头脑产生一种奇怪的影响，使他忘记世界上还有比社会地位和他来往银行的建议更应关切和更神圣的事情。所以我选择了庄严的客厅，在这里，在这些华丽的镜框里，您可以看到您、我和我母亲的微笑的画像，以及各种各样的田园风光和牧场景色，我很重视外界影响的力量。或许，尤其是在跟您见面的时候，这也许是一种错误，但如果我没有一点幻想的话，我就不成其为艺术家啦。” 
“好极了，”腾格拉尔回答，他极其冷静地听着这一番长篇大论的演讲，但一个字也没有听懂，他虽然尽心在倾听，但象那些别有用心的人一样，只是在从旁人的话里寻找他适合自己的话题。 
“看来，第二点已经向你说明白了，”欧热妮说，她说话时不慌不忙，她的神态和语气里都带着那种男性的自恃。“或许差不多说明白了，因为您看来已满意那一番解释。现在我们再回过头来谈第一点吧？您问我为什么要求作这次谈话，我可以用一句话来答复您，阁下，——我不愿意跟安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵结婚。” 
腾格拉尔从椅子上跳了起来，猛然受到这么一个打击，他不由得同时把他的手臂和眼睛都抬起来。 
“是的，真的，阁下，”欧热妮依旧很平静地说。“我看出您很惊奇。因为当这件小事在准备的时候，我丝毫没有表示反对，——不错，我老是在等机会反对那些不征求我意见的人和使我讨厌的事情，我知道自己太倔强专横。但这一次，我的安静和消极并不是因为在等待机会，它出自于另外一个原因，它来源于一种希望，象是一个驯服孝顺的女儿在学习服从。”说到这里，那青年姑娘发紫的嘴唇露出一个淡淡的微笑。 
“怎么样？”腾格拉尔问。 
“嗯，阁下，”欧热妮继续说，“我已经被折腾得精疲力尽了，现在时间已经到了，而我发觉，虽然我作了种种努力，但要我作更进一步的服从是不可能的。” 
“但是，”腾格拉尔说，他的才智太差了，被这种经过了深思熟虑和意志的残忍逻辑吓了，“你这次拒绝究竟是为了什么原因呢，欧热妮，究竟为了什么原因呀？” 
“原因？”那青年姑娘答道。“嗯！并不是为了这个人比别的人人更丑、更笨或更令人讨厌。不，安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生从外貌上讲，甚至可以算是一个长得不错的人。也不是为了他能感动我的心，——那只是一个女学生的理由，我认为我已经过了那个阶段。我实在没有爱过一个人，阁下，您知道的，不是吗？我始终不明白为什么应该给我的生活加上一个永久的拖累。一位哲学家不是说过‘不要去寻求你不需要的东西’，而另一位哲人不是也说‘以你本身的一切为满足’吗？这两句格言我是从拉丁文和希腊文里学来的。前一句，我相信，是费陀［费陀是公元前五世纪希腊言家。——译注］说的，后一句，是庇阿斯［庇阿斯是公元前六世纪希腊所谓七贤之一。——译注］说的。嗯，我亲爱的爹爹，在生活的舟里——因为生活就意味着一次次希望的沉舟——我把一切无用的拖累都扔到海里，只是如此而已。我靠着自己的意志活下来，自愿完全过独身生活，这样就可以完全保持自由。” 
“不幸的孩子！不幸的孩子！”腾格拉尔嘟囔着说，脸色显得苍白起来，因为他根据长期的经验，他知道他突然地遭到的障碍是这样的结实。 
“不幸！”欧热妮答道，“阁下，您说是不幸吗？决不是的，那种叹息在我看似乎是装出来的。正巧相反，我很幸福。我问您，我现在还缺少什么？人家都说我长得很美，那可以帮助我受到盛情的款待。我喜欢得到欢迎的接待，因为当旁人用笑脸相迎的时候，我周围的人就显得没有那样丑了。我颇有一点智慧，并且还相当敏感，这总可以使我把一般人生活里所能找到的优点全部纳入到我自己的生活里，——象猴子打碎胡桃壳吃其中的肉一样。我很富有，因为您是法国第一流的富翁，我是您的独生女儿。而您不会顽固到象圣·马丁和拉加蒂剧院舞台上的父亲一样，不会因为他们的女儿生不出外孙女儿就剥夺她的继承权。况且，根据继承法，您也不能剥夺我的继承权，至少不能剥夺我的全部继承权，——我之所以要特别提出这一点，因为这也是一种强迫我嫁人的力量。所以，我美丽，又聪明，又有钱，而象喜剧里所说的那样，又有几分天才，——那就是幸福了呀，阁下，您为什么要说我是不幸的呢？” 
腾格拉尔看到他女儿那种笑容满面，傲慢得几乎到了狂妄的语气，于也忍不住心中的一股怒气。但是，那股怒气只是从一声叹息里发泄了出来。在他女儿询问的凝视之下，面对着那两条带有疑问表情的美丽的黑眉毛，他小心地转过头去，立刻用谨慎的铁腕平静了自己。“真的，我的女儿呀，”他带着一个微笑答道，“你所说的一切都对，只有一样事情是不对的，我暂时先不告诉你那是什么，让你自己慢慢去发现它。” 
欧热妮望着腾格拉尔，很惊奇她那引以自傲的那些优点竟没有一项被反驳。 
“我的女儿呀，”那位银行家继续说，“你已经把你一个决心不嫁人的姑娘的感想，完全解释给我听，现在应该由我来告诉你：象我这样一个执意要让他的女儿嫁人的父亲，究竟是为了什么。” 
欧热妮鞠了一躬，但她的神态不象是一驯服的女儿，而象是一个随时准备辩论的对手。 
“我的女儿呀，”腾格拉尔继续说，“当一个父亲要他的女儿选择一个丈夫的时候，他希望她嫁人，总是有道理的。有些人正是因为热衷于你刚才所说的那种事情，——想抱外孙女儿。 
“我可以坦白告诉你，我可不是因为这个，家庭之乐对我来说并没有太大诱惑力。这一点，对象你这样的一个女儿，我不妨承认，因为你有哲学家的风度，足可以理解我的淡漠，不会把它视作一种罪名。” 
“好极了，”欧热妮说，“我们坦白讲吧，阁下，——我很喜欢坦白。” 
“嗯！”腾格拉尔说，“当情势需要我这样做的时候，我可以采取你的办法，虽然这并不是我一贯的作风。我之所以要劝你结婚，并不是为了你的缘故，，因为至少在当时我的确没有想到你。你赞成坦白，我希望在你可以满足了。我之所以要催促你赶快结婚，是为了我的商业。”欧热妮显出不安的神情。“的确是这样，我可以保证，但你一定不要恼怒，因为这是你自己要我讲出来的。对象你这样的一个艺术家，我不愿意作详细的数字解释，你甚至怕走进我的书房，恐怕染上反诗意的印象和感触。但就在那间银行家的书房里，就在你昨天心甘情愿地走进来向我讨那每月数千法郎零用钱的地方，你必须知道，我亲爱的小姐，可以学到许多事情，甚至学到对一个不愿结婚的姑娘也有用的事情。譬如说，在那儿，——不怕你怀疑，我在客厅里也可以这样告诉你，——一个人就可以学到：一位银行家的信用，就是他的肉体生命和道德生命。信用于他来说，正如呼吸对于他的身体一样。基督山先生有一次曾在这一点上对我讲过这一番话，那是我永远不会忘记的。在那儿，一个人可以学到：当信用消失的时候，肉体就没有生命了。这就是那位有幸做一个女艺术家之父的银行家不久就必须要遭遇到的情形。” 
但欧热妮在这个打击之下并没有显得垂头丧气。反而挺直了她的身体。“破产了！”她说。 
“你说对了，我的女儿，这两个字用得很恰当，”腾格拉尔说，他用手紧紧捂住自己胸口，但他那严酷的脸上却依旧带着一个机智但却没有心肝的人的微笑。“破产！是的，正是这句话。” 
“啊！”欧热妮说。 
“是的，破产啦！现在，这个正如悲剧诗人所说的，‘充满着恐怖的秘密已经揭露了’。现在，我的女儿哪，既在这也会影响到你，且让我来告诉你：你或许能够免除这场不幸。” 
“噢，”欧热妮喊道，“阁下，假如您以为你所宣布的破产会使我悲哀我自己的命运的话，您就是一位蹩脚相士了。我破产！那对我无足轻重？我不是还有我的天才吗？我难道不能象巴斯达［巴斯达（一七四五—一八一九），意大利高音歌剧演员。——译注］、马里邦［马里邦（一八○八—一八三六），法国高音歌剧演员。——译注］和格里契［格里契（一八一一—一八六九），意大利高音歌剧演员。——译注］那样，凭我自己的能力去获得您永远不会给我的一切吗？当您一年给我那可怜的一万二千法郎零用钱的时候，你总是用不高兴的脸色，还要责备我浪费，那时，我自己一年就可以赚十万或十五万里弗，拿到那笔钱，我不必感激旁人，只要感激自己就行了，而且那些钱还会伴随着喝采、欢呼和鲜花一同来。假如我没有那种天才，——您的微笑使我知道您很怀疑我的才能，——我不是还有我所热爱的独立吗？我认为独立比财宝更可贵，在我看来，它甚至比生命更重要。不，我并不为我自己担忧，——我总是可以有办法活下去的。我的书，我的笔，我的钢琴，永远是属于我的，而且那些东西都不值钱，即使失去了，我也可以再看得到。您或许认为我会为腾格拉尔夫人担心。您又在欺骗自己，如果我没弄错的话，我知道母亲对于威胁您的那场大难早已有所准备，那场大难也会影响到她。她很会照顾她自己的财产，——至少，我希望如此，——而她并没有因为照顾我而分了心，因为，感谢上帝，她借口我喜欢自由，一切完全由我自己作主。噢，不，阁下，我从小的时候，就经常受着不幸的威胁，我对于我周围的一切是看得太多、懂得太多了。从我能记事的那天起，我就不曾被任何人所爱，——那本来可以说很不幸！这样我自然也就谁也不爱了，——这也未尝不是一件好事！现在，您知道我的处世哲学了吧。” 
“那好，”腾格拉尔说，他气的脸色发青，但那种气愤却不是因为父爱受了儿女反叛才有的，——“那末，小姐，你坚持要决心加速我的破产了吗？” 
“您的破产？我加快您的破产？您是什么意思？我不懂您的意思。” 
“那样还好，我还有一线希望，听着。” 
“我全神贯注地在听。”欧热妮说，同时紧紧注视着他的父亲，这使父亲很难承受她那有力的凝视。 
“卡瓦尔康蒂先生快和你结婚了，”腾格拉尔继续说，“他将把他的财产委托给我。那笔财产约有三百万。” 
“这可是可观的数目！”欧热妮极其蔑视地说，玩弄着她的手套。 
“你以为我会要你们的那三百万，”腾格拉尔说，“不要害怕。这笔钱现在至少可以得到一分利息。我从另外一位银行家，——我的同行，——那儿得到一条铁路的承股权，而铁路是目前唯一立刻发财的事业，目前巴黎人投资于铁路，就象以前投资于野猫横行的密西西比河流域的土地一样能发大财。根据我的估算，目前能拥有一条铁路的百万分之一的股权，正如以前在俄亥俄河两岸拥有一亩处女地一样。这是一种抵押投资——你看，这可是一种进步了，因为你所投资的钱至少可以换到十磅、十五磅、二十磅或一百磅铁。嗯，在一星期之内，必须买进四百万股票，这四百万，我答应给你一分或一分二的利息。” 
“但阁下，看来您也记得很清楚，当我前天来见您的时候，”欧热妮答道，“我看到您进帐，——进帐这两个字说得不错吧？五百五十万。您甚至把那两张支票拿给我看，并且很惊奇这样贵重的一张支票并没有象闪电一样照花我的眼睛。” 
“是的，但那五百五十万不是我的，而只是一种信任我的证据。我这个平民化的银行家的头衔使我获得了医院的信任，那五百五十万是属于医院的。在以前，我可以毫不犹豫地动用那笔款子，但我近来接连遭受损失是众所周知的事情，我已经告诉过你，我的信誉已经开始动摇了。那笔存款随时都有可能来提取，假如我拿它来充另外的用途，我就会给自己带来一次可耻的倒闭。相信我，我并不厌恶倒闭，但那必须是使人发财的倒闭而不是使人破产的倒闭。现在，要是你能与卡瓦尔康蒂先生结婚，而我碰到了那三百万，或者只要旁人以为我拿到那三百万，我的信誉便恢复了，而我的财产，虽然在过去一两个月内被大块大块地吞吸掉，以使我的前途有了很大的障碍，那时便可以重新建立起来。你明白我的意思了吗？ 
“听得十分明白。你把我抵押了三百万，不是吗？” 
“数目越大，你便越有面子。这是可以使你想到你自己的身价。” 
“谢谢您。还有一句话，阁下，您能不能答应我：你可以用卡瓦尔康蒂先生即将把他的财产委托给您的那个消息，而不去碰那笔款子？这不是我自私，而是一件处理问题的办法。我很愿意帮助您重振您的财产，但我却不愿意在造成他人破产的计划中做一个从犯。” 
“但我告诉过您啦，”腾格拉尔喊道，“有了这三百万” 
“阁下，您认为，如果不动用那三百万，能摆脱你的困境吗？” 
“我希望如此，假如这件婚事能顺利举行的吧，或许会恢复我的信用。” 
“您能够答应我签订婚约后就给那五十万法郎嫁资付给卡瓦尔康蒂先生吗？” 
“他从市长公署回来就可以收到那笔钱。” 
“太好了！” 
“还有什么？你还要什么？” 
“我希望知道：在我签字以后，您是否可以让我的行动完全自由？” 
“绝对自由！” 
“那末，好极了，阁下，我愿意嫁给卡瓦尔康蒂先生了。” 
“但你有什么计划？” 
“啊，那是我的秘密。假如在知道了您的秘密以后，我再把自己的秘密告诉您，那我对您还能有什么优势呢？” 
腾格拉尔咬一咬自己的嘴唇。“那末，”他说，“你愿意去向亲戚朋友作必不可少的拜访吗？——那是绝对免不了的呀！” 
“是的。”欧热妮回答。 
“并且在三天以内签订婚约？” 
“是的。” 
“那末，这回轮到我来说‘好极了’啦！”腾格拉尔把他女儿的手紧握在自己的两手之间。这太奇怪了，——那做父亲的不敢说“谢谢你，我的孩子”，那做女儿的则不向她的父亲露出一点微笑。 
“会谈结束了吗？”欧热妮站起身来问。 
腾格拉尔表示他已无话可说了。五分钟以后，钢琴声在亚密莱小姐的手指下又响起来，接着腾格拉尔小姐的歌声也传了出来。一曲唱罢，依脱尼走进来，向欧热妮通报马车已经准备好了，男爵夫人已经在等她一同去访客。我们已在维尔福家里见到她们母女俩；那是第一个接受她们拜访的人家。
Chapter 96 The Contract
 THREE DAYS after the scene we have just described, namely towards five o'clock in the afternoon of the day fixed for the signature of the contract between Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars and Andrea Cavalcanti,--whom the banker persisted in calling prince,--a fresh breeze was stirring the leaves in the little garden in front of the Count of Monte Cristo's house, and the count was preparing to go out. While his horses were impatiently pawing the ground,--held in by the coachman, who had been seated a quarter of an hour on his box,--the elegant phaeton with which we are familiar rapidly turned the angle of the entrance-gate, and cast out on the doorsteps M. Andrea Cavalcanti, as decked up and gay as if he were going to marry a princess. He inquired after the count with his usual familiarity, and ascending lightly to the second story met him at the top of the stairs. The count stopped on seeing the young man. As for Andrea, he was launched, and when he was once launched nothing stopped him. "Ah, good morning, my dear count," said he. "Ah, M. Andrea," said the latter, with his half-jesting tone; "how do you do." 
"Charmingly, as you see. I am come to talk to you about a thousand things; but, first tell me, were you going out or just returned?" 
"I was going out, sir." 
"Then, in order not to hinder you, I will get up with you if you please in your carriage, and Tom shall follow with my phaeton in tow." 
"No," said the count, with an imperceptible smile of contempt, for he had no wish to be seen in the young man's society,--"no; I prefer listening to you here, my dear M. Andrea; we can chat better in-doors, and there is no coachman to overhear our conversation." The count returned to a small drawing-room on the first floor, sat down, and crossing his legs motioned to the young man to take a seat also. Andrea assumed his gayest manner. "You know, my dear count," said he, "the ceremony is to take place this evening. At nine o'clock the contract is to be signed at my father-in-law's." 
"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo. 
"What; is it news to you? Has not M. Danglars informed you of the ceremony?" 
"Oh, yes," said the count; "I received a letter from him yesterday, but I do not think the hour was mentioned." 
"Possibly my father-in-law trusted to its general notoriety." 
"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you are fortunate, M. Cavalcanti; it is a most suitable alliance you are contracting, and Mademoiselle Danglars is a handsome girl." 
"Yes, indeed she is," replied Cavalcanti, in a very modest tone. 
"Above all, she is very rich,--at least, I believe so," said Monte Cristo. 
"Very rich, do you think?" replied the young man. 
"Doubtless; it is said M. Danglars conceals at least half of his fortune." 
"And he acknowledges fifteen or twenty millions," said Andrea with a look sparkling with joy. 
"Without reckoning," added Monte Cristo, "that he is on the eve of entering into a sort of speculation already in vogue in the United States and in England, but quite novel in France." 
"Yes, yes, I know what you mean,--the railway, of which he has obtained the grant, is it not?" 
"Precisely; it is generally believed he will gain ten millions by that affair." 
"Ten millions! Do you think so? It is magnificent!" said Cavalcanti, who was quite confounded at the metallic sound of these golden words. "Without reckoning," replied Monte Cristo, "that all his fortune will come to you, and justly too, since Mademoiselle Danglars is an only daughter. Besides, your own fortune, as your father assured me, is almost equal to that of your betrothed. But enough of money matters. Do you know, M. Andrea, I think you have managed this affair rather skilfully?" 
"Not badly, by any means," said the young man; "I was born for a diplomatist." 
"Well, you must become a diplomatist; diplomacy, you know, is something that is not to be acquired; it is instinctive. Have you lost your heart?" 
"Indeed, I fear it," replied Andrea, in the tone in which he had heard Dorante or Valere reply to Alceste* at the Theatre Fran?ais. 
"Is your love returned?" 
* In Molière's comedy, Le Misanthrope. 
"I suppose so," said Andrea with a triumphant smile, "since I am accepted. But I must not forget one grand point." 
"Which?" 
"That I have been singularly assisted." 
"Nonsense." 
"I have, indeed." 
"By circumstances?" 
"No; by you." 
"By me? Not at all, prince," said Monte Cristo laying a marked stress on the title, "what have I done for you? Are not your name, your social position, and your merit sufficient?" 
"No," said Andrea,--"no; it is useless for you to say so, count. I maintain that the position of a man like you has done more than my name, my social position, and my merit." 
"You are completely mistaken, sir," said Monte Cristo coldly, who felt the perfidious manoeuvre of the young man, and understood the bearing of his words; "you only acquired my protection after the influence and fortune of your father had been ascertained; for, after all, who procured for me, who had never seen either you or your illustrious father, the pleasure of your acquaintance?--two of my good friends, Lord Wilmore and the Abbé Busoni. What encouraged me not to become your surety, but to patronize you?--your father's name, so well known in Italy and so highly honored. Personally, I do not know you." This calm tone and perfect ease made Andrea feel that he was, for the moment, restrained by a more muscular hand than his own, and that the restraint could not be easily broken through. 
"Oh, then my father has really a very large fortune, count?" 
"It appears so, sir," replied Monte Cristo. 
"Do you know if the marriage settlement he promised me has come?" 
"I have been advised of it." 
"But the three millions?" 
"The three millions are probably on the road." 
"Then I shall really have them?" 
"Oh, well," said the count, "I do not think you have yet known the want of money." Andrea was so surprised that he pondered the matter for a moment. Then, arousing from his revery,--"Now, sir, I have one request to make to you, which you will understand, even if it should be disagreeable to you." 
"Proceed," said Monte Cristo. 
"I have formed an acquaintance, thanks to my good fortune, with many noted persons, and have, at least for the moment, a crowd of friends. But marrying, as I am about to do, before all Paris, I ought to be supported by an illustrious name, and in the absence of the paternal hand some powerful one ought to lead me to the altar; now, my father is not coming to Paris, is he? He is old, covered with wounds, and suffers dreadfully, he says, in travelling." 
"Indeed?" 
"Well, I am come to ask a favor of you." 
"Of me?" 
"Yes, of you." 
"And pray what may it be?" 
"Well, to take his part." 
"Ah, my dear sir! What?--after the varied relations I have had the happiness to sustain towards you, can it be that you know me so little as to ask such a thing? Ask me to lend you half a million and, although such a loan is somewhat rare, on my honor, you would annoy me less! Know, then, what I thought I had already told you, that in participation in this world's affairs, more especially in their moral aspects, the Count of Monte Cristo has never ceased to entertain the scruples and even the superstitions of the East. I, who have a seraglio at Cairo, one at Smyrna, and one at Constantinople, preside at a wedding?--never!" 
"Then you refuse me?" 
"Decidedly; and were you my son or my brother I would refuse you in the same way." 
"But what must be done?" said Andrea, disappointed. 
"You said just now that you had a hundred friends." 
"Very true, but you introduced me at M. Danglars'." 
"Not at all! Let us recall the exact facts. You met him at a dinner party at my house, and you introduced yourself at his house; that is a totally different affair." 
"Yes, but, by my marriage, you have forwarded that." 
"I?--not in the least, I beg you to believe. Recollect what I told you when you asked me to propose you. 'Oh, I never make matches, my dear prince, it is my settled principle.'" Andrea bit his lips. 
"But, at least, you will be there?" 
"Will all Paris be there?" 
"Oh, certainly." 
"Well, like all Paris, I shall be there too," said the count. 
"And will you sign the contract?" 
"I see no objection to that; my scruples do not go thus far." 
"Well, since you will grant me no more, I must be content with what you give me. But one word more, count." 
"What is it?" 
"Advice." 
"Be careful; advice is worse than a service." 
"Oh, you can give me this without compromising yourself." 
"Tell me what it is." 
"Is my wife's fortune five hundred thousand livres?" 
"That is the sum M. Danglars himself announced." 
"Must I receive it, or leave it in the hands of the notary?" 
"This is the way such affairs are generally arranged when it is wished to do them stylishly: Your two solicitors appoint a meeting, when the contract is signed, for the next or the following day; then they exchange the two portions, for which they each give a receipt; then, when the marriage is celebrated, they place the amount at your disposal as the chief member of the alliance." 
"Because," said Andrea, with a certain ill-concealed uneasiness, "I thought I heard my father-in-law say that he intended embarking our property in that famous railway affair of which you spoke just now." 
"Well," replied Monte Cristo, "it will be the way, everybody says, of trebling your fortune in twelve months. Baron Danglars is a good father, and knows how to calculate." 
"In that case," said Andrea, "everything is all right, excepting your refusal, which quite grieves me." 
"You must attribute it only to natural scruples under similar circumstances." 
"Well," said Andrea, "let it be as you wish. This evening, then, at nine o'clock." 
"Adieu till then." Notwithstanding a slight resistance on the part of Monte Cristo, whose lips turned pale, but who preserved his ceremonious smile, Andrea seized the count's hand, pressed it, jumped into his phaeton, and disappeared. 
The four or five remaining hours before nine o'clock arrived, Andrea employed in riding, paying visits,--designed to induce those of whom he had spoken to appear at the banker's in their gayest equipages,--dazzling them by promises of shares in schemes which have since turned every brain, and in which Danglars was just taking the initiative. In fact, at half-past eight in the evening the grand salon, the gallery adjoining, and the three other drawing-rooms on the same floor, were filled with a perfumed crowd, who sympathized but little in the event, but who all participated in that love of being present wherever there is anything fresh to be seen. An Academician would say that the entertainments of the fashionable world are collections of flowers which attract inconstant butterflies, famished bees, and buzzing drones. 
No one could deny that the rooms were splendidly illuminated; the light streamed forth on the gilt mouldings and the silk hangings; and all the bad taste of decorations, which had only their richness to boast of, shone in its splendor. Mademoiselle Eugénie was dressed with elegant simplicity in a figured white silk dress, and a white rose half concealed in her jet black hair was her only ornament, unaccompanied by a single jewel. Her eyes, however, betrayed that perfect confidence which contradicted the girlish simplicity of this modest attire. Madame Danglars was chatting at a short distance with Debray, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud. 
Debray was admitted to the house for this grand ceremony, but on the same plane with every one else, and without any particular privilege. M. Danglars, surrounded by deputies and men connected with the revenue, was explaining a new theory of taxation which he intended to adopt when the course of events had compelled the government to call him into the ministry. Andrea, on whose arm hung one of the most consummate dandies of the opera, was explaining to him rather cleverly, since he was obliged to be bold to appear at ease, his future projects, and the new luxuries he meant to introduce to Parisian fashions with his hundred and seventy-five thousand livres per annum. 
The crowd moved to and fro in the rooms like an ebb and flow of turquoises, rubies, emeralds, opals, and diamonds. As usual, the oldest women were the most decorated, and the ugliest the most conspicuous. If there was a beautiful lily, or a sweet rose, you had to search for it, concealed in some corner behind a mother with a turban, or an aunt with a bird of paradise. 
At each moment, in the midst of the crowd, the buzzing, and the laughter, the door-keeper's voice was heard announcing some name well known in the financial department, respected in the army, or illustrious in the literary world, and which was acknowledged by a slight movement in the different groups. But for one whose privilege it was to agitate that ocean of human waves, how many were received with a look of indifference or a sneer of disdain! At the moment when the hand of the massive time-piece, representing Endymion asleep, pointed to nine on its golden face, and the hammer, the faithful type of mechanical thought, struck nine times, the name of the Count of Monte Cristo resounded in its turn, and as if by an electric shock all the assembly turned towards the door. 
The count was dressed in black and with his habitual simplicity; his white waistcoat displayed his expansive noble chest and his black stock was singularly noticeable because of its contrast with the deadly paleness of his face. His only jewellery was a chain, so fine that the slender gold thread was scarcely perceptible on his white waistcoat. A circle was immediately formed around the door. The count perceived at one glance Madame Danglars at one end of the drawing-room, M. Danglars at the other, and Eugénie in front of him. He first advanced towards the baroness, who was chatting with Madame de Villefort, who had come alone, Valentine being still an invalid; and without turning aside, so clear was the road left for him, he passed from the baroness to Eugénie, whom he complimented in such rapid and measured terms, that the proud artist was quite struck. Near her was Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who thanked the count for the letters of introduction he had so kindly given her for Italy, which she intended immediately to make use of. On leaving these ladies he found himself with Danglars, who had advanced to meet him. 
Having accomplished these three social duties, Monte Cristo stopped, looking around him with that expression peculiar to a certain class, which seems to say, "I have done my duty, now let others do theirs." Andrea, who was in an adjoining room, had shared in the sensation caused by the arrival of Monte Cristo, and now came forward to pay his respects to the count. He found him completely surrounded; all were eager to speak to him, as is always the case with those whose words are few and weighty. The solicitors arrived at this moment and arranged their scrawled papers on the velvet cloth embroidered with gold which covered the table prepared for the signature; it was a gilt table supported on lions' claws. One of the notaries sat down, the other remained standing. They were about to proceed to the reading of the contract, which half Paris assembled was to sign. All took their places, or rather the ladies formed a circle, while the gentlemen (more indifferent to the restraints of what Boileau calls the "energetic style") commented on the feverish agitation of Andrea, on M. Danglars' riveted attention, Eugénie's composure, and the light and sprightly manner in which the baroness treated this important affair. 
The contract was read during a profound silence. But as soon as it was finished, the buzz was redoubled through all the drawing-rooms; the brilliant sums, the rolling millions which were to be at the command of the two young people, and which crowned the display of the wedding presents and the young lady's diamonds, which had been made in a room entirely appropriated for that purpose, had exercised to the full their delusions over the envious assembly. Mademoiselle Danglars' charms were heightened in the opinion of the young men, and for the moment seemed to outvie the sun in splendor. As for the ladies, it is needless to say that while they coveted the millions, they thought they did not need them for themselves, as they were beautiful enough without them. Andrea, surrounded by his friends, complimented, flattered, beginning to believe in the reality of his dream, was almost bewildered. The notary solemnly took the pen, flourished it above his head, and said, "Gentlemen, we are about to sign the contract." 
The baron was to sign first, then the representative of M. Cavalcanti, senior, then the baroness, afterwards the "future couple," as they are styled in the abominable phraseology of legal documents. The baron took the pen and signed, then the representative. The baroness approached, leaning on Madame de Villefort's arm. "My dear," said she, as she took the pen, "is it not vexatious? An unexpected incident, in the affair of murder and theft at the Count of Monte Cristo's, in which he nearly fell a victim, deprives us of the pleasure of seeing M. de Villefort." 
"Indeed?" said M. Danglars, in the same tone in which he would have said, "Oh, well, what do I care?" 
"As a matter of fact," said Monte Cristo, approaching, "I am much afraid that I am the involuntary cause of his absence." 
"What, you, count?" said Madame Danglars, signing; "if you are, take care, for I shall never forgive you." Andrea pricked up his ears. 
"But it is not my fault, as I shall endeavor to prove." Every one listened eagerly; Monte Cristo who so rarely opened his lips, was about to speak. "You remember," said the count, during the most profound silence, "that the unhappy wretch who came to rob me died at my house; the supposition is that he was stabbed by his accomplice, on attempting to leave it." 
"Yes," said Danglars. 
"In order that his wounds might be examined he was undressed, and his clothes were thrown into a corner, where the police picked them up, with the exception of the waistcoat, which they overlooked." Andrea turned pale, and drew towards the door; he saw a cloud rising in the horizon, which appeared to forebode a coming storm. 
"Well, this waistcoat was discovered to-day, covered with blood, and with a hole over the heart." The ladies screamed, and two or three prepared to faint. "It was brought to me. No one could guess what the dirty rag could be; I alone suspected that it was the waistcoat of the murdered man. My valet, in examining this mournful relic, felt a paper in the pocket and drew it out; it was a letter addressed to you, baron." 
"To me?" cried Danglars. 
"Yes, indeed, to you; I succeeded in deciphering your name under the blood with which the letter was stained," replied Monte Cristo, amid the general outburst of amazement. 
"But," asked Madame Danglars, looking at her husband with uneasiness, "how could that prevent M. de Villefort"-- 
"In this simple way, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "the waistcoat and the letter were both what is termed circumstantial evidence; I therefore sent them to the king's attorney. You understand, my dear baron, that legal methods are the safest in criminal cases; it was, perhaps, some plot against you." Andrea looked steadily at Monte Cristo and disappeared in the second drawing-room. 
"Possibly," said Danglars; "was not this murdered man an old galley-slave?" 
"Yes," replied the count; "a felon named Caderousse." Danglars turned slightly pale; Andrea reached the anteroom beyond the little drawing-room. 
"But go on signing," said Monte Cristo; "I perceive that my story has caused a general emotion, and I beg to apologize to you, baroness, and to Mademoiselle Danglars." The baroness, who had signed, returned the pen to the notary. "Prince Cavalcanti," said the latter; "Prince Cavalcanti, where are you?" 
"Andrea, Andrea," repeated several young people, who were already on sufficiently intimate terms with him to call him by his Christian name. 
"Call the prince; inform him that it is his turn to sign," cried Danglars to one of the floorkeepers. 
But at the same instant the crowd of guests rushed in alarm into the principal salon as if some frightful monster had entered the apartments, quaerens quem devoret. There was, indeed, reason to retreat, to be alarmed, and to scream. An officer was placing two soldiers at the door of each drawing-room, and was advancing towards Danglars, preceded by a commissary of police, girded with his scarf. Madame Danglars uttered a scream and fainted. Danglars, who thought himself threatened (certain consciences are never calm),--Danglars even before his guests showed a countenance of abject terror. 
"What is the matter, sir?" asked Monte Cristo, advancing to meet the commissioner. 
"Which of you gentlemen," asked the magistrate, without replying to the count, "answers to the name of Andrea Cavalcanti?" A cry of astonishment was heard from all parts of the room. They searched; they questioned. "But who then is Andrea Cavalcanti?" asked Danglars in amazement. 
"A galley-slave, escaped from confinement at Toulon." 
"And what crime has he committed?" 
"He is accused," said the commissary with his inflexible voice, "of having assassinated the man named Caderousse, his former companion in prison, at the moment he was making his escape from the house of the Count of Monte Cristo." Monte Cristo cast a rapid glance around him. Andrea was gone.  
在我们上文讲述过的那幕场面发生后的三天，——也就是说，在欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐和被那位银行家坚持称为王子的安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂将要和腾格拉尔签订婚约的那天下午五点钟左右，——一阵清新的微风吹过了基督山伯爵屋前的小花园，伯爵正准备出去，他的马在焦躁不安地踢着地面，车夫在控制着马，他已经在他的座位上等了一刻钟了。正当这时，我们所熟悉的那辆漂亮的轻便马车已经来到了大门口。 
那打扮得十分整齐，高兴得象快要去娶一位公主为妻的安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生走下车来。他照常用熟悉的口气问一问伯爵是否在家，然后轻捷地蹿上二楼，在楼梯顶上遇到了伯爵。伯爵一看见那青年就停住了脚步。至于安德烈，他正在往前冲，当他一旦往前冲的时候，是什么都挡不住他的。“啊，早安，我亲爱的伯爵。”他说。 
“啊，安德烈先生！”伯爵用他那种半带戏弄的口气说，“您好吗？” 
“好得很，这是您可以看得出来的，我有许多许多事情得跟您谈。您是刚回来？” 
“我正要出去，阁下。” 
“那末，为了不耽误您的时间，我可以跟您一起去，我坐在您的车子里，叫汤姆驾着我的轻便马车并排跟着。” 
“不，”伯爵说，脸上露出一个难以觉察的轻蔑的微笑，因为他并不想让人看见他和这个青年人在一起，——“不，我情愿在这儿跟您谈，我亲爱的安德烈先生。我们在屋子里谈话会更好些，这儿没有车夫来窃听我们的谈话。” 
伯爵回到二楼的一间小客厅里，坐下来，跷起腿，示意那个青年人也坐下来。安德烈拿出他最高兴的态度。“您知道，我亲爱的伯爵，”他说，“我今天晚上要订婚了。九点钟在我岳父家里签约。” 
“呀！真的？”基督山说。 
“什么！您把它当作新闻吗？腾格拉尔先生难道没有把这个消息告诉您吗？” 
“噢，告诉我了，”伯爵说，“我昨天收到他的一封信，但我没有记清具体的时间。” 
“可能的，我的岳父大概以为这件事大家都知道的了。” 
“嗯，”基督山说，“您很幸运，卡瓦尔康蒂先生，这是一个最门当户对的婚姻了，再说，腾格拉尔小姐又很漂亮。” 
“是的，她的确很漂亮。”卡瓦尔康蒂用谦虚的口气说。 
“尤其是，她非常有钱，——至少，我相信是如此。”基督山说。 
“非常有钱，您以为是吗？”那青年回答。 
“当然罗，据说腾格拉尔先生至少隐瞒了他的一半财产。” 
“而他自己说有一千五百万至二千万。”安德烈说，他的眼睛里闪耀着喜悦的火花。 
“而且，”基督山又说，“他很快又要开始一种新的投机事业了，这种副业在英美已很流行，但在法国却还很新奇。” 
“是的，是的，我知道您所指的是什么，是铁路，对不对？他已获得了铁路的承股权。” 
“一点不错，大家都相信他在那件事情上可以赚到一千万。” 
“一千万？您这样想吗？真是太有意思了。”卡瓦尔康蒂说，他被这些无懈可击的花言巧语冲昏了头脑。 
“而且，”基督山继续说，“他的全部财产将来都要归您，这是天经地义的事，因为腾格拉尔小姐是一位独生女儿。再说，您自己的财产，令尊告诉我的，几乎也和您的未婚妻一样多。现在先把钱的事稍为搁一搁吧。您知道吗，安德烈先生，我以为您这件事情办得巧妙。” 
“至少还不算太坏，”那青年说，“我天生是一个外交家。” 
“嗯，您一定要成为一位外交家，外交辞令，您知道，不是学得的，——它是一种本能。这么说，您的心已被征服了吗？” 
“真的，我想是的。”安德烈模仿法兰西戏院里杜郎特或梵丽丽回答阿尔西斯提回时那种腔调说道。 
“她也有些喜欢您吗？” 
“我想是的，”安德烈带着一个得意的微笑说，“因为我已经被她接受了。但我不能忘记很重要的一点。” 
“那是什么？” 
“就是我曾得到过奇怪的帮助。” 
“瞎说。” 
“真是的。” 
“是环境帮助了您！” 
“不，是您。” 
“我？决不是的，王子，”基督山说，并故意加重说了那个头衔，“我对您有什么帮助？单凭您的名望，您的社会地位和您的品貌，就已经足够了吗？” 
“不，”安德烈说，——“不，您那样说是没有用的，伯爵。我一直认为我的名望、我的社会地位和我的学问不及您的一分帮助。” 
“您完全弄错了，阁下，”基督山冷冷地说，他从青年的那种无赖态度上知道了他话里的意思，“您是在我了解了令尊的权利和财产情况以后才获得我的保护。我从来不曾见过您或您那显赫的父亲。归根结蒂究竟是谁使我有幸认识你们的呢？是我的两个好朋友，威玛勋爵和布沙尼神甫。究竟我为什么要成为您的——不是担保人，而是——保护人呢？那是因为令尊的名望，因为令尊在意大利无人不知，十分受人尊崇。从您个人来说，我可并不认识您。”这种平静的口气和十分安祥的态度使安德烈知道他这时已遭遇到一只比自己更有力的手，并且知道从那只手的压力下逃出来是不容易的。 
“噢，那么家父真的有一笔非常大的财产吗，伯爵？” 
“看来是如此，阁下。”基督山回答。 
“您知道家父答应我的结婚费用是否到了吗？” 
“令尊已通知过我。” 
“但那三百万现款呢？” 
“那三百万大概已经在路上了。” 
“那么我真能得到它吗？” 
“吓！”伯爵说，“我想您还不至于这么缺钱用吧。” 
安德烈是这样的惊奇，好一会他不知道该说些什么。然后，他从迷糊状中醒来，说：“现在，阁下，我对您只有一项请求了，那件事，即使您不愿意，也一定能谅解我的。” 
“请说。”基督山说。 
“因为我的好运，我已经结识了许多知名的人士，同时，至少在目前，还有着一群朋友。但是，既然我要在巴黎举行盛大的结婚典礼，就应该有一个鼎鼎大名的人来主持。如果父亲不在场，就应该有一位有地位的人领我到圣坛［欧洲风俗：在教堂里结婚，新郎新娘须在圣坛前受神父祝福。——译注］前面。现在家父看来是不能来巴黎了，是吗？” 
“他年岁已老，浑身满是伤疤，他说，每一次旅行都使他痛苦难捱。” 
“我明白。嗯，所以我来请您给我一个面子。” 
“什么请求？” 
“哦，就是代替他的位置。” 
“啊，我亲爱的先生！什么！在我有幸跟您作过那么多的接触以后，您竟还这样不明白我的为人，竟然来要求我做这样的一种事情？要我借五十万给您，老实说，虽然这样的借款是非常少见，但您也未必会让我如此为难。我记得我曾经告诉过您，在参与世事方面，——尤其是伦理道德方面的事情，——基督山伯爵从未参预忌讳的事，说得更明白一点，这是东方人的迷信。我在开罗士麦拿、君士坦丁堡都有藏娇的迷宫，可是我为人主持过一次婚礼吗？——绝对没有！” 
“那么您拒绝我了？” 
“坚决拒绝，即使您是我的儿子或我的兄弟，我也会同样拒绝您。” 
“那我该么办呢？”安德烈失望地说。 
“您自己刚才不是说，您的朋友多得很。” 
“不错，但介绍我到腾格拉尔先生家里去的却是您。” 
“决不是的！让我们来回忆一下那个事实。您在我家里的一次宴会席上遇见他，您自己到他家里去拜访，那是一件与我毫无关系的事情。” 
“是的，关于我的婚姻，却是您促成的。” 
“我！丝毫不是，您记得的。请回忆一下当您要我为您去做媒的时候，我对您说了些什么。噢，我是决不会去为别人促成婚事的，我亲爱的王子，这是我坚定不移的原则。” 
安德烈咬了咬他的嘴唇。“但至少，”他说，“您总会去参加的吧。” 
“全巴黎的人都去吗？” 
“噢，当然罗。” 
  
  
“嗯，我跟全巴黎的人一样，我也会去的。”伯爵说。 
“您会在婚约上签名吗？” 
“我看这一点没什么值得反对的，我还不至于忌讳到那种程度。” 
“好吧，既然您不肯给我面子，我也只能凭您给我的这点就满足了。但还有两个字，伯爵。” 
“是什么？” 
“忠告。” 
“请小心，忠告比效劳更坏。” 
“但您可以给我这个忠告而不会连累您自己。” 
“告诉我那是什么。” 
“我太太的财产有五十万里弗吗？” 
“那是腾格拉尔先生亲自告诉我的数目。” 
“我应该收下这笔款子呢，还是让它留在公证人的手里？” 
“这种事情通常总是按一定的惯例来办理的：在签订婚约的时候，你们男女双方的律师约好一个聚会的时间，或在第二天，或在第三天。然后，他们交换嫁资和聘金，各给一张收据。然后，在举行婚礼的时候他们把钱转到你们的名下，因为那时你是一家之主了。” 
“我这样问，是因为，”安德烈带着某种不加掩饰的不安说，“我好象听我的岳父说，他准备把我们的财产全投资在您刚才说过的那种赚钱的铁路事业上。” 
“嗯，”基督山答道，“每一个人都说那种投资可以使你的财产在十二月之内翻三倍。腾格拉尔男爵是一位好岳父，而且挺会算计的。” 
“嗯，那好，”安德烈说，“一切都好，只是您的拒绝使我很伤心。” 
“您只能把这点归罪于在某种情况下的非常自然的清规戒律。” 
“嗯，”安德烈说，“就说这些吧，那么今天晚上，九点钟。” 
“到时再见。” 
安德烈抓起伯爵的手，紧紧地握了一下，跳进他的轻便马车里很快就驶远了。当握手的时候，基督山曾想抗拒，他的嘴唇苍白起来，但却仍保持着他那彬彬有礼的微笑。 
在九点以前的那四五个钟头里，安德烈乘着马车到处拜访，想结交那些曾在他岳父那儿会过的富豪们做朋友，把腾格拉尔快要开始投资的铁路股票的惊人利润向他们夸耀了一番。当晚八点半，那大客厅，与客厅相连的走廊，还有楼下的另外三间客厅里，都挤满了香气扑鼻的人群。这些人并不是为交情而来，而是被一种不可抗拒的欲望吸引来的，是想来看看有没有什么新鲜的事物。一位院士曾说：上流社会的宴会等于是名花的汇集，它会吸引轻浮的蝴蝶、饥饿的贪婪的蜜蜂和嗡嗡营营的雄蜂。 
各个房间里当然都灯火辉煌。墙壁镀金的嵌线上密密地排着灯火；那些除了夸富以外别无用处的家具大放光彩。欧热妮小姐的穿饰文雅朴素，穿看一件合身的白绸长袍。她唯一的装饰品是一朵半插在她那乌玉般黑的头发里的白玫瑰，并无任何一颗珠宝。她的打扮虽然显得纯洁高尚，她眼睛里却流露出一种与之相反的傲慢神气。在距她不远的地方，腾格拉尔夫人正在与德布雷、波尚和夏多·勒诺闲谈。德布雷被邀请来参加这次盛大的典礼，但象每一个人一样，他并没有得到任何特权。腾格拉尔先生正被包围在一群财政部官员和与财政部有关的人士中间，正在向他们解释一种新的税收原则，等到将来当形势迫使政府不得不邀他入部参与大计的时候再来实施。安德烈的手臂上挽着一个歌剧里那种洋味十足的花花公子，装出一种很随便的神气——但多少有点尴尬——向他解释将来的计划，描述凭着他那每年十七万五千里弗的收入，他将怎样向巴黎的时髦上层社会介绍新的奢侈品。 
人群拥来拥去，象是一道由蓝宝石、红宝石、翡翠、猫眼石和金刚石组成的涡流一样。象平常一样，年龄最老的女人打扮得最华丽，而最丑的女人最引人注目。假如当时有一颗美丽水仙花，或一朵甜的玫瑰，你得仔细搜索才能找到，因为她总是躲在一个角落里，或者藏在一个戴面巾的母亲或戴孔雀毛帽子的姑母后面的。 
在这喧哗笑闹的人群中，随时可以听到司仪的声音，通报一位金融巨头、军界要员或文学名士的姓名；那时，各个人群里便会随着那个姓名的喊声发一阵轻微的骚动。虽然你有权利可以在这儿激起人海的波浪，但多数人却只得到了漠视的一瞥或轻蔑的一笑！当金面大时钟上的时针指到九点，当机械的钟锤敲打了九下的时候，司仪报出了基督山伯爵的名字，象触了电一样，全场的人都把他们的视线转向了门口。基督山伯爵穿着黑衣服，象他往常一样的简单朴素。他唯一的装饰虽是一条极其精致的金链，挂在他白背心上让人难以觉察。伯爵一眼就看到了坐在客厅一端的腾格拉尔夫人，在客厅另一端的腾格拉尔先生，以及在他对面的欧热妮。他首先向男爵夫人走过去，男爵夫人这时正与维尔福夫人聊天（维尔福夫人是独自来的，因为瓦朗蒂娜依旧还不能走动）；然后，他从男爵夫人那儿一直走到——人群中间早已给他让出了一条路——欧热妮那儿，用非常急速而含蓄的话语向她道贺，使这位骄傲的女艺术家也不得不表示惊奇。亚密莱小姐就站在她的身边，她感谢伯爵这样慨然答应她给意大利剧院写封介绍信，并表示她立刻就要用到那封介绍信。离开了这些女太太们以后，基督山走近了腾格拉尔，因为腾格拉尔已向他迎上来。 
完成了这三项社交义务以后，基督山停下来，用充满自信的目光环顾四周，象是在说：“我已完成了我的责任，现在让旁人去完成他们的责任吧。”安德烈本来在隔壁房间里，这时也已感觉到基督山的到达所引起的骚动，起来向伯爵致意。 
他发现伯爵已被大家包围得水泄不通；大家都盼望与他讲话，这是一个不轻易说话而每次说话必有份量的人能经常遇到的事情。这时，双方的律师到了，他们把拟定好了的文件放在那张签字用的桌子上；那是一张描金的桌子，四条桌腿雕成狮爪形，桌面上铺着绣金的天鹅绒台毯。律师之中有一位坐下来，其余的都站着。他们快要宣读那份来参加这个典礼的半数巴黎人都要签字的婚约了。大家都在为自己找一个好的位置，太太小姐们围成一个圆圈，先生们则采取比较远的位置，评论着安德烈的紧张不安，腾格拉尔先生的全神贯注、欧热妮的从容自若以及男爵夫人在处理整个大厅这类重要事情时的雍容大度而又敏捷的态度。 
读婚约的时候四处鸦雀无声。但婚约一读完，那几间客厅里便更加喧闹起来；那即将属于未婚夫妇的几百万巨款，那些放在一个大房间里的礼物以及那位未来新娘的钻石，到处都充满了羡慕的声音。在青年男子的脸上，腾格拉尔小姐的可爱又增加了几倍，她光彩夺目。至于太太小姐们，不用说，她们当然嫉妒那几百万，但心里却以为她们自己的美丽可以不用金钱点缀。安德烈被他的朋友包围了起来，在一片道喜和赞美声中，他开始相信他的梦想已变成现实，简直飘飘然了。律师庄严地拿起笔，举过的头顶，说：“诸位，婚约开始签字了。” 
按照仪式，第一个签字的是男爵；然后是老卡瓦尔康蒂先生的代表签字；然后是男爵夫人；男爵夫人之后，才是婚约上的所谓未婚夫妇。男爵接过笔来签了字，然后代表也签了字。男爵夫人扶着维尔福夫人的膀子走近来。“亲爱的，”她一面说，一面接过笔来，“这太令人恼火了？一件意想不到的事情，就是为了上次基督山伯爵几乎险遭不测的那件谋杀案和偷窃案，竟使我们不能让维尔福先生来这儿观礼。” 
“真的！”腾格拉尔说，他的口气象是在说，“哼，我根本不在乎！” 
“啊！”基督山走近来说，“我怕这件事情是我无意中造成的。” 
“什么！您，伯爵？”腾格拉尔夫人一面说，一面签字，“假如是您，可得小心，我可永远不能宽恕您的呀。”安德烈竖起他的耳朵。 
“但那不是我的错，我应当努力来向您证明。” 
每一个都在留心听着，平时极少说话的基督山快要说话了。 
“您记得，”伯爵在一片寂静中开口说，“想来偷东西的那个刻毒的恶棍是死在我家里的，据当时推测，他是在企图离开我家里的时候被他的同谋犯刺死的。” 
“是的。”腾格拉尔说。 
“嗯，为了检查他的伤口，他的衣服被脱了下来，扔在一个角落里，后来由法院方面的警官把它捡了回去，但他们却漏下了他的一件背心。” 
安德烈脸色变得发白，向门口走过去；他看见天上忽然上升起了一朵乌云，似乎预示一场暴风雨即将来临。 
“嗯！这件背心今天被我发现了，上面满是血迹，心口处有一个洞。”太太小姐失声尖叫起来，有两三个装出要晕倒的样子。“仆人拿那件背心给我看。准都猜不出那块弄脏的破东西是什么，只有我猜想到它是那个死者的背心。我的仆人在检查这阴森可怕的遗物的时候，摸到口袋里有一张纸，抽出来一看，原来是一封写给您的信，男爵。” 
“给我的！”腾格拉尔喊道。 
“是的，的确写给您的，那封信虽然沾满了血迹，但我却从血迹底下辨认出您的名字。”基督山在一片惊讶声中回答道。 
“但是，”腾格拉尔夫人恐惧不安地望着她的丈夫问道，“那件事怎么会阻止维尔福先生——” 
“非常简单，夫人，”基督山答道，“那件背心和那封信都是确凿的证据。所以我就把它们都送到检察官那儿去了。您知道，我亲爱的男爵，遇到案件，依法办理是最妥当的了，那也许是一种攻击您的阴谋。” 
安德烈两眼直直望着基督山，偷偷溜进了隔壁的那间客厅里。 
“可能的，”腾格拉尔说，“这个被杀的人不是一个苦役犯吗？” 
“是的，”伯爵答道，“是一个名叫卡德鲁斯的凶犯。” 
腾格拉尔脸色微微变得苍白；安德烈离开第二间客厅，溜进候见室里。 
“请继续签字吧，”基督山说，“我看我的故事让大家都惊呆啦，我向您、男爵夫人和腾格拉尔小姐表示歉意。” 
男爵夫人这时已签过字，把笔交回给律师。“卡瓦尔康蒂王子！”后者说，“卡瓦尔康蒂王子，您在哪儿呀？” 
“安德烈！安德烈！”有几个青年人连连喊道，他们已够亲密到能称呼他的教名了。 
“去叫王子来！通知他现在已经轮到他签字了！”腾格拉尔大声对一个司仪说。 
就在这时，大客厅里的宾客们忽然惊惶地向后退去，象是一个吓人的妖怪闯进屋来要吞食某一个人似的。他们的后退、惊惶和喊叫是有理由的。一个军官在客厅的每一个门口派了两个兵看守，他自己则跟在一个胸佩绶带的警官后面，向腾格拉尔走过来。腾格拉尔以为他们的对象就是他（有些人的良心是永远不安的），在他的宾客面前展露出一个恐怖的面孔。“什么事，阁下？”基督山迎上去问那个警官。 
“诸位，”那位法官不回答伯爵，问道，“你们之中哪一位叫安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂？” 
房间里到处可以听到惊慌的喊叫声。他们四处搜寻，他们互相探问。 
“安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂究竟是什么人呀？”腾格拉尔在极度惊愕中问。 
“是从土伦监狱里逃出来的苦役犯。” 
“他犯了什么罪？” 
“他被控，”那执事官用他冷漠的声音说，“杀害了那个名叫卡德鲁斯的人。那个人当初是跟他一条链上的同伴，被告在他从基督山伯爵家里逃出来的时候杀害了他。” 
基督山向四周急速地瞥视了一眼。安德烈已经不见了。 
Chapter 97 The Departure for Belgium
 A FEW MINUTES after the scene of confusion produced in the salons of M. Danglars by the unexpected appearance of the brigade of soldiers, and by the disclosure which had followed, the mansion was deserted with as much rapidity as if a case of plague or of cholera morbus had broken out among the guests. In a few minutes, through all the doors, down all the staircases, by every exit, every one hastened to retire, or rather to fly; for it was a situation where the ordinary condolences,--which even the best friends are so eager to offer in great catastrophes,--were seen to be utterly futile. There remained in the banker's house only Danglars, closeted in his study, and making his statement to the officer of gendarmes; Madame Danglars, terrified, in the boudoir with which we are acquainted; and Eugénie, who with haughty air and disdainful lip had retired to her room with her inseparable companion, Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly. As for the numerous servants (more numerous that evening than usual, for their number was augmented by cooks and butlers from the Café de Paris), venting on their employers their anger at what they termed the insult to which they had been subjected, they collected in groups in the hall, in the kitchens, or in their rooms, thinking very little of their duty, which was thus naturally interrupted. Of all this household, only two persons deserve our notice; these are Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars and Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly. 
The betrothed had retired, as we said, with haughty air, disdainful lip, and the demeanor of an outraged queen, followed by her companion, who was paler and more disturbed than herself. On reaching her room Eugénie locked her door, while Louise fell on a chair. "Ah, what a dreadful thing," said the young musician; "who would have suspected it? M. Andrea Cavalcanti a murderer--a galley-slave escaped--a convict!" An ironical smile curled the lip of Eugénie. "In truth I was fated," said she. "I escaped the Morcerf only to fall into the Cavalcanti." 
"Oh, do not confound the two, Eugénie." 
"Hold your tongue! The men are all infamous, and I am happy to be able now to do more than detest them--I despise them." 
"What shall we do?" asked Louise. 
"What shall we do?" 
"Yes." 
"Why, the same we had intended doing three days since--set off." 
"What?--although you are not now going to be married, you intend still"-- 
"Listen, Louise. I hate this life of the fashionable world, always ordered, measured, ruled, like our music-paper. What I have always wished for, desired, and coveted, is the life of an artist, free and independent, relying only on my own resources, and accountable only to myself. Remain here? What for?--that they may try, a month hence, to marry me again; and to whom?--M. Debray, perhaps, as it was once proposed. No, Louise, no! This evening's adventure will serve for my excuse. I did not seek one, I did not ask for one. God sends me this, and I hail it joyfully!" 
"How strong and courageous you are!" said the fair, frail girl to her brunette companion. 
"Did you not yet know me? Come, Louise, let us talk of our affairs. The post-chaise"-- 
"Was happily bought three days since." 
"Have you had it sent where we are to go for it?" 
"Yes." 
"Our passport?" 
"Here it is." 
And Eugénie, with her usual precision, opened a printed paper, and read,-- 
"M. Léon d'Armilly, twenty years of age; profession, artist; hair black, eyes black; travelling with his sister." 
"Capital! How did you get this passport?" 
"When I went to ask M. de Monte Cristo for letters to the directors of the theatres at Rome and Naples, I expressed my fears of travelling as a woman; he perfectly understood them, and undertook to procure for me a man's passport, and two days after I received this, to which I have added with my own hand, 'travelling with his sister.'" 
"Well," said Eugénie cheerfully, "we have then only to pack up our trunks; we shall start the evening of the signing of the contract, instead of the evening of the wedding--that is all." 
"But consider the matter seriously, Eugénie!" 
"Oh, I am done with considering! I am tired of hearing only of market reports, of the end of the month, of the rise and fall of Spanish funds, of Haitian bonds. Instead of that, Louise--do you understand?--air, liberty, melody of birds, plains of Lombardy, Venetian canals, Roman palaces, the Bay of Naples. How much have we, Louise?" The young girl to whom this question was addressed drew from an inlaid secretary a small portfolio with a lock, in which she counted twenty-three bank-notes. 
"Twenty-three thousand francs," I said she. 
"And as much, at least, in pearls, diamonds, and jewels," said Eugénie. "We are rich. With forty-five thousand francs we can live like princesses for two years, and comfortably for four; but before six months--you with your music, and I with my voice--we shall double our capital. Come, you shall take charge of the money, I of the jewel-box; so that if one of us had the misfortune to lose her treasure, the other would still have hers left. Now, the portmanteau--let us make haste--the portmanteau!" 
"Stop!" said Louise, going to listen at Madame Danglars' door. 
"What do you fear?" 
"That we may be discovered." 
"The door is locked." 
"They may tell us to open it." 
"They may if they like, but we will not." 
"You are a perfect Amazon, Eugénie!" And the two young girls began to heap into a trunk all the things they thought they should require. "There now," said Eugénie, "while I change my costume do you lock the portmanteau." Louise pressed with all the strength of her little hands on the top of the portmanteau. "But I cannot," said she; "I am not strong enough; do you shut it." 
"Ah, you do well to ask," said Eugénie, laughing; "I forgot that I was Hercules, and you only the pale Omphale!" And the young girl, kneeling on the top, pressed the two parts of the portmanteau together, and Mademoiselle d'Armilly passed the bolt of the padlock through. When this was done, Eugénie opened a drawer, of which she kept the key, and took from it a wadded violet silk travelling cloak. "Here," said she, "you see I have thought of everything; with this cloak you will not be cold." 
"But you?" 
"Oh, I am never cold, you know! Besides, with these men's clothes"-- 
"Will you dress here?" 
"Certainly." 
"Shall you have time?" 
"Do not be uneasy, you little coward! All our servants are busy, discussing the grand affair. Besides, what is there astonishing, when you think of the grief I ought to be in, that I shut myself up?--tell me!" 
"No, truly--you comfort me." 
"Come and help me." 
From the same drawer she took a man's complete costume, from the boots to the coat, and a provision of linen, where there was nothing superfluous, but every requisite. Then, with a promptitude which indicated that this was not the first time she had amused herself by adopting the garb of the opposite sex, Eugénie drew on the boots and pantaloons, tied her cravat, buttoned her waistcoat up to the throat, and put on a coat which admirably fitted her beautiful figure. "Oh, that is very good--indeed, it is very good!" said Louise, looking at her with admiration; "but that beautiful black hair, those magnificent braids, which made all the ladies sigh with envy,--will they go under a man's hat like the one I see down there?" 
"You shall see," said Eugénie. And with her left hand seizing the thick mass, which her long fingers could scarcely grasp, she took in her right hand a pair of long scissors, and soon the steel met through the rich and splendid hair, which fell in a cluster at her feet as she leaned back to keep it from her coat. Then she grasped the front hair, which she also cut off, without expressing the least regret; on the contrary, her eyes sparkled with greater pleasure than usual under her ebony eyebrows. "Oh, the magnificent hair!" said Louise, with regret. 
"And am I not a hundred times better thus?" cried Eugénie, smoothing the scattered curls of her hair, which had now quite a masculine appearance; "and do you not think me handsomer so?" 
"Oh, you are beautiful--always beautiful!" cried Louise. "Now, where are you going?" 
"To Brussels, if you like; it is the nearest frontier. We can go to Brussels, Liège, Aix-la-Chapelle; then up the Rhine to Strasburg. We will cross Switzerland, and go down into Italy by the Saint-Gothard. Will that do?" 
"Yes." 
"What are you looking at?" 
"I am looking at you; indeed you are adorable like that! One would say you were carrying me off." 
"And they would be right, par Dieu!" 
"Oh, I think you swore, Eugénie." And the two young girls, whom every one might have thought plunged in grief, the one on her own account, the other from interest in her friend, burst out laughing, as they cleared away every visible trace of the disorder which had naturally accompanied the preparations for their escape. Then, having blown out the lights, the two fugitives, looking and listening eagerly, with outstretched necks, opened the door of a dressing-room which led by a side staircase down to the yard,--Eugénie going first, and holding with one arm the portmanteau, which by the opposite handle Mademoiselle d'Armilly scarcely raised with both hands. The yard was empty; the clock was striking twelve. The porter was not yet gone to bed. Eugénie approached softly, and saw the old man sleeping soundly in an arm-chair in his lodge. She returned to Louise, took up the portmanteau, which she had placed for a moment on the ground, and they reached the archway under the shadow of the wall. 
Eugénie concealed Louise in an angle of the gateway, so that if the porter chanced to awake he might see but one person. Then placing herself in the full light of the lamp which lit the yard,--"Gate!" cried she, with her finest contralto voice, and rapping at the window. 
The porter got up as Eugénie expected, and even advanced some steps to recognize the person who was going out, but seeing a young man striking his boot impatiently with his riding-whip, he opened it immediately. Louise slid through the half-open gate like a snake, and bounded lightly forward. Eugénie, apparently calm, although in all probability her heart beat somewhat faster than usual, went out in her turn. A porter was passing and they gave him the portmanteau; then the two young girls, having told him to take it to No. 36, Rue de la Victoire, walked behind this man, whose presence comforted Louise. As for Eugénie, she was as strong as a Judith or a Delilah. They arrived at the appointed spot. Eugénie ordered the porter to put down the portmanteau, gave him some pieces of money, and having rapped at the shutter sent him away. The shutter where Eugénie had rapped was that of a little laundress, who had been previously warned, and was not yet gone to bed. She opened the door. 
"Mademoiselle," said Eugénie, "let the porter get the post-chaise from the coach-house, and fetch some post-horses from the hotel. Here are five francs for his trouble." 
"Indeed," said Louise, "I admire you, and I could almost say respect you." The laundress looked on in astonishment, but as she had been promised twenty louis, she made no remark. 
In a quarter of an hour the porter returned with a post-boy and horses, which were harnessed, and put in the post-chaise in a minute, while the porter fastened the portmanteau on with the assistance of a cord and strap. "Here is the passport," said the postilion, "which way are we going, young gentleman?" 
"To Fontainebleau," replied Eugénie with an almost masculine voice. 
"What do you say?" said Louise. 
"I am giving them the slip," said Eugénie; "this woman to whom we have given twenty louis may betray us for forty; we will soon alter our direction." And the young girl jumped into the britzska, which was admirably arranged for sleeping in, without scarcely touching the step. "You are always right," said the music teacher, seating herself by the side of her friend. 
A quarter of an hour afterwards the postilion, having been put in the right road, passed with a crack of his whip through the gateway of the Barrière Saint-Martin. "Ah," said Louise, breathing freely, "here we are out of Paris." 
"Yes, my dear, the abduction is an accomplished fact," replied Eugénie. "Yes, and without violence," said Louise. 
"I shall bring that forward as an extenuating circumstance," replied Eugénie. These words were lost in the noise which the carriage made in rolling over the pavement of La Villette. M. Danglars no longer had a daughter.  
那些让人意料不到出现的士兵以及士兵出现后的那一条宣布，腾格拉尔先生的客厅里变得混乱起来；几分钟以后，大家急急忙忙地逃出那座大厦，象是宾客群中发生了瘟疫或霍乱一样。在几分钟之内，每一道门口，每一阶楼梯上，每一个出口，都挤满了急急忙忙退出来的人；因为在这种情形之下，一般的安慰是没有用的，因此一个人在遇到灾难时会使他的最好的朋友们感到非常苦恼。在那位银行家的大厦里，只留下了在关得紧紧的书房里与军官谈话的腾格拉尔，躲在她那间我们已经熟悉的卧室里被吓坏了的腾格拉尔夫人，以及那带着傲慢的神态和鄙视的面孔，随同她永远都陪伴的同伴罗茜·亚密莱小姐退回到她房间里去的欧热妮。至于那些多得数不清的仆人们那天晚上比往常特别多（因为临时加了一部分从巴黎咖啡馆借来的厨师和侍者），他们成群结队地聚集在大厅里、厨房里或他们自己的房间里，他们自以为受了很大侮辱，把一腔怒气都发泄在他们的主人身上，再也不去想到他们的义务和地位，他们的工作自然也已经是不再需要的了。在这些利害关系不同而同样气愤的人之中，只有两个人引起了我们的注意；那两个人便是欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐和罗茜·亚密莱小姐。 
我们上文已谈到，腾格拉尔小姐离开的时候带着傲慢的神态、鄙视的眼光以及象一位发怒的女皇的那种表情，后面跟着那位比她自己更苍白和更激动的同伴。到了她的房间里以后，欧热妮闩上房门，而罗茜则坐在一张椅子上。 
“啊，多可怕的一件事！”那青年音乐家说，“谁会去怀疑？安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生竟是一个凶手——一个监狱里逃出来的苦役犯——一个囚徒！” 
欧热妮撇了一下嘴唇，露出一个讥讽的微笑。“看来，我是命中注定了的，”她说，“我逃过了马尔塞夫而却落在卡瓦尔康蒂的手里。” 
“噢，别把那两个人混为一谈，欧热妮。” 
“住嘴！那两个人都是无耻的，我很高兴我现在能够认清他们的真面目。” 
“我们怎么办呢？”罗茜问。 
“我们怎么办吗？” 
“是的。” 
“咦，还是我们三天以前就准备好的办法，——走。” 
“什么！即使现在不要你结婚了，你还是要——” 
“听着，罗茜！我厌恶上流社会的这种生活，事事要规规矩矩，受人批评，受人牵制，象我们的乐谱一样。我始终希望，盼望和渴慕的是，自由独立，只依靠自己，这才是艺术家的生活。再留在这儿！为了什么？让他们在一个月以后再拿我嫁人吗？而且，嫁给谁呢？一定是德布雷先生，他的有一阵子说起过此事。不，罗茜，不！今天晚上发生的意外可以作我的借口。上帝把这个借口给我，而且来得正是时候！” 
“你是多么的坚强和勇敢呀！”那柔弱白皮肤的女郎对她的同伴说。 
“你难道还不了解我吗？来，罗茜，让我们来谈谈我们自己的事情吧。驿车——” 
“幸亏三天前就买好了。” 
“你可曾说好我们上车的地点吗？” 
“说过了。” 
“我们的护照呢？” 
“在这儿！” 
于是，欧热妮带着她往常那种自信的态度，打开一张纸念道：“莱翁·亚密莱先生，二十岁；艺术家；黑发黑眼；旅伴，妹一人。” 
“太妙了！这张护照你是怎么搞到的？” 
“当我去求基督山伯爵向罗马和那不勒斯剧院经理安一封介绍信的时候，我表示一个女人出门旅行很不方便。他十分明白我们意思，便负责给我弄到一张男人护照。我接到这张护照两天以后，用我自己手又写上了‘旅伴，妹一人。’” 
“好，”欧热妮高兴地说，“那末我们只要收拾好行李就行了。我们取消在结婚之夜起程的计划，改在订婚之夜起程，——其差别只是如此而已。” 
“你想清楚呀，欧热妮！” 
“噢，我什么都想过了！我已听厌了月终的报表以及西班牙公债和海地公债的起落。而代替那一些的，罗茜，——你懂吗？——却是清新空气，自由，婉转的鸟声，伦巴第的平原，威尼斯的运河，罗马的宫殿，那不勒斯的海湾。我们还有多少钱，罗茜？” 
她的同伴从一只嵌花的写字台里拿出一只小皮夹，把皮夹里的钱数了一数，一共有二十三张。 
“二万三千法郎。”她说。 
“而珠宝钻石至少也值这么多，”欧热妮说。“我们很有钱哪。有了四万五千法郎，我们可以过两年象公主一般的生活。如果只是想舒服一点，便可以过四年。但在六个月之内——你靠你的乐器，我靠我的歌喉——我们便可以把我们的钱增加一倍了。来，你保管钱，我保管珠宝箱。假如我们之中不幸有一个人丢失了她的财宝，那还有另外一个的可用。来，收拾提包，我们赶快吧，收拾提包！” 
“等一下！”罗茜说，走到通腾格拉尔夫人房间的门前去听了一下。 
“你怕什么？” 
“怕我们让人发觉。” 
“门已经关上了。” 
“说不定有人会叫我们开的呀。” 
“让他们去叫吧。但我们却决不开。” 
“你是一个名副其实的女丈夫，欧热妮！”于是那两个青年姑娘开始把她们认为她们需要的东西都装进一只旅行提包里。 
“现在，”欧热妮说，“我换衣服，你锁上那只提包。” 
罗茜用尽她所有的气力压那只提包的盖子。“我不行，”她说，“我气力不够，你来关吧。” 
“啊，你说得对！”欧热妮笑着说。“我忘记了我是大力士，而你却只是白面女皇！”于是那青年女郎膝盖顶在提包盖上，把提包的箱盖盖好，而亚密莱小姐则把锁插到锁臼里。 
这些做好以后，欧热妮用随身带着的钥匙打开一个衣橱，从衣橱里取出一件用紫绸做成的旅行棉披风。“喏，”她说，“你看，我一切都想好了，有了这件披风，你就不会挨冻了。” 
“但你呢？” 
“噢，我是从来不怕冷的，你知道！而且，穿了这些男人的衣服——” 
“你在这儿穿吗？” 
“当然。” 
“来得及吗？” 
“不用担心，你这胆小鬼！全体仆人现在都忙着讨论那件大事。况且，你想想看，按照常规我本应该多么伤心，关紧房门又算是什么奇怪呢？你说！” 
“不错，那倒是真的，这就使我安心了。” 
“来，帮帮我的忙。” 
她从取出已经披在亚密莱小姐肩头上的那件披风的衣橱抽屉里，又拿出一套男人的衣服来，从领结到皮靴一应俱全，又拿出一只口袋，里面全是必需的东西，没有一件多余的。然后她穿上皮靴和裤子，打好领结，扣好背心，穿上一件非常适合她身材的上装。从她打扮的速度上来看，可以推测到她扮演异性已不是第一次了。 
“噢，好极了！真的好极了！”罗茜以赞美的目光望着她说，“但是，那一头美丽的黑发，那些使所有的太太小姐们都发出嫉妒叹息的漂亮的辫子，可能全部装在我眼前的这一顶男人的帽子底下吗？” 
“你瞧着吧，”欧热妮说。她左手抓住那头浓密的头发，——她那细长的手指几乎不能把它们全部抓住，——右手拿起一把长剪刀，不久，剪刀在秀发上喀嚓一声，那青年姑娘把身体向后一仰，以免玷污她的上装，那一头浓密美丽的头发便都落到她的脚下。然后，她把前刘海剪掉，在她那象黑檀木一样漆黑的的眼睛里，非但没有遗憾的表情，反而更显得炯炯有神。 
“噢，那漂亮的头发！”亚密莱小姐遗憾地说。 
“我这样不是更好吗？”欧热妮喊道，一面抚弄那些零碎的鬈发。她的样子现在已很象男人，“你觉得我这样不漂亮吗？” 
“噢，你很漂亮——永远是漂亮的！”罗茜喊道。“我们现在到哪儿去？” 
“到布鲁塞尔去，假如你同意的话，这是出境最近的一条路。我们可以到布鲁塞尔，次日，埃克斯·拉夏佩勒，然后沿莱茵河到达斯特拉斯堡。我们将横穿瑞士，经圣·哥塔进入意大利。你看行吗？ 
“行。” 
“你在看什么？” 
“我在看你，真的，你这副样子真叫人羡慕！人家认为你带着我私奔呢。” 
“哦，真的！那他们就说对了。” 
“噢！我快要挨骂了，欧热妮！”于是，这两个都以为自己一定是非常悲哀的青年女郎—一个是为了她自己，一个是为了她的朋友——都大笑起来。她们整理了一下准备逃走时所留下的每一丝痕迹；然后，吹熄她们的灯，睁大眼睛、竖起耳朵和伸长脖子，这两个逃跑者打开一间更衣室的门，从一道侧梯走到前院里。欧热妮走在前头，用一只手拉着提包的一端，后面的亚密莱小姐则用双手拉着提包的另一端。前院里空无一人；这时正是十二点钟。门房还没有上床。欧热妮轻轻地走过去，看到那个老头儿正在他那个小房间的一张圈椅里酣睡。她回到罗茜那儿，提起那只放在地上的旅行提包，两人顺着墙根走到门廊下。 
欧热妮把罗茜藏在门廊的一个角落里，这样，假如那门房碰巧醒来，他也只能看见一个人。然后，她走到那盏照亮前庭的灯光底下，一面拍打窗门，一面压低了声音喊：“开门！” 
正如欧热妮所想象的，门房爬起来，甚至走前几步想看看究竟是谁要出去，但看到一个青年男子用他的马鞭不耐烦地拍击着他的皮靴，他赶快把门打开了。罗茜象一条蛇似的从门里溜出去轻快地向前跳了几步。欧热妮接着也出来了，她表面上很镇定，但是她的心要比往常跳得快一点。这时正巧有一个脚夫经过，她们便把那只提包交给他，告诉他提到维克多路三十六号，然后这两个青年女郎就跟在他的后面走。脚夫的出现使罗茜的心安定下来。至于欧热妮，她坚强得象一个犹蒂丝［古代用计杀死敌将、解救危城的一个犹太女人，事见《圣经》。——译注］或一个狄丽拉［《圣经》中大力女子。——译注］一样。她们到达约好的地点。欧热妮吩咐脚夫放下提包，给了他一些钱打发他走开，然后拍打那座房子的百叶窗住着洗衣服的小妇人，她曾在事先得到通知，所以还不曾上床睡觉。她出来打开门。 
“大姐，”欧热妮说，“叫那看门人把旅行马车从车房里拉出来，再叫他到旅馆里去租驿马。这五个法郎作他的酬劳。” 
“真的，”罗茜说，“我真佩服你，我简直要说敬重你啦。” 
那洗衣女露出惊奇的神色，但因为说好她可以拿到二十个路易，所以并不说话。 
不到一刻钟，那看门人带着马夫和马车回来了，马夫立刻把马套到马车上，而看门人则用一条绳子绑住那只提包。 
“护照在这儿，马夫说，“我们到哪儿去，先生？” 
“到枫丹白露，欧热妮用一种近似男性的声音回答。 
“你说什么？”罗茜说。 
“我是故意这么说，”欧热妮说，“我们虽然给了这个女人二十路易，但她或许为了四十路易而出卖我们。我们不久就要改变方向的。”她们跳进那辆布置得可以睡觉的四轮马车里，几乎没碰踏板。 
“你永远是对的。”罗茜说，一面坐到她朋友的旁边。 
一刻钟以后马夫已拐上正道，扬鞭通过了圣·马丁城栅的城门。 
“啊！”罗茜说，“我们已经走出巴黎了。” 
“是的，我亲爱的，这次逃跑干得漂亮极了。”欧热妮回答。 
“是的，不曾用暴力。”罗茜说。 
“即使用暴力也完全值得。”欧热妮回答。这些话渐渐消失在辘辘的车轮滚动声里。腾格拉尔先生永远失去了他的女儿。 
Chapter 98 The Bell and Bottle Tavern
 AND NOW let us leave Mademoiselle Danglars and her friend pursuing their way to Brussels, and return to poor Andrea Cavalcanti, so inopportunely interrupted in his rise to fortune. Notwithstanding his youth, Master Andrea was a very skilful and intelligent boy. We have seen that on the first rumor which reached the salon he had gradually approached the door, and crossing two or three rooms at last disappeared. But we have forgotten to mention one circumstance, which nevertheless ought not to be omitted; in one of the rooms he crossed, the trousseau of the bride-elect was on exhibition. There were caskets of diamonds, cashmere shawls, Valenciennes lace, English veilings, and in fact all the tempting things, the bare mention of which makes the hearts of young girls bound with joy, and which is called the corbeille. Now, in passing through this room, Andrea proved himself not only to be clever and intelligent, but also provident, for he helped himself to the most valuable of the ornaments before him. 
Furnished with this plunder, Andrea leaped with a lighter heart from the window, intending to slip through the hands of the gendarmes. Tall and well proportioned as an ancient gladiator, and muscular as a Spartan, he walked for a quarter of an hour without knowing where to direct his steps, actuated by the sole idea of getting away from the spot where if he lingered he knew that he would surely be taken. Having passed through the Rue Mont Blanc, guided by the instinct which leads thieves always to take the safest path, he found himself at the end of the Rue Lafayette. There he stopped, breathless and panting. He was quite alone; on one side was the vast wilderness of the Saint-Lazare, on the other, Paris enshrouded in darkness. 
"Am I to be captured?" he cried; "no, not if I can use more activity than my enemies. My safety is now a mere question of speed." 
At this moment he saw a cab at the top of the Faubourg Poissonniere. The dull driver, smoking his pipe, was plodding along toward the limits of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, where no doubt he ordinarily had his station. "Ho, friend!" said Benedetto. 
"What do you want, sir?" asked the driver. 
"Is your horse tired?" 
"Tired? oh, yes, tired enough--he has done nothing the whole of this blessed day! Four wretched fares, and twenty sous over, making in all seven francs, are all that I have earned, and I ought to take ten to the owner." 
"Will you add these twenty francs to the seven you have?" 
"With pleasure, sir; twenty francs are not to be despised. Tell me what I am to do for this." 
"A very easy thing, if your horse isn't tired." 
"I tell you he'll go like the wind,--only tell me which way to drive." 
"Towards the Louvres." 
"Ah, I know the way--you get good sweetened rum over there." 
"Exactly so; I merely wish to overtake one of my friends, with whom I am going to hunt to-morrow at Chapelle-en-Serval. He should have waited for me here with a cabriolet till half-past eleven; it is twelve, and, tired of waiting, he must have gone on." 
"It is likely." 
"Well, will you try and overtake him?" 
"Nothing I should like better." 
"If you do not overtake him before we reach Bourget you shall have twenty francs; if not before Louvres, thirty." 
"And if we do overtake him?" 
"Forty," said Andrea, after a moment's hesitation, at the end of which he remembered that he might safely promise. "That's all right," said the man; "hop in, and we're off! Who-o-o-p, la!" 
Andrea got into the cab, which passed rapidly through the Faubourg Saint-Denis, along the Faubourg Saint-Martin, crossed the barrier, and threaded its way through the interminable Villette. They never overtook the chimerical friend, yet Andrea frequently inquired of people on foot whom he passed and at the inns which were not yet closed, for a green cabriolet and bay horse; and as there are a great many cabriolets to be seen on the road to the Low Countries, and as nine-tenths of them are green, the inquiries increased at every step. Every one had just seen it pass; it was only five hundred, two hundred, one hundred steps in advance; at length they reached it, but it was not the friend. Once the cab was also passed by a calash rapidly whirled along by two post-horses. "Ah," said Cavalcanti to himself, "if I only had that britzska, those two good post-horses, and above all the passport that carries them on!" And he sighed deeply. The calash contained Mademoiselle Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly. "Hurry, hurry!" said Andrea, "we must overtake him soon." And the poor horse resumed the desperate gallop it had kept up since leaving the barrier, and arrived steaming at Louvres. 
"Certainly," said Andrea, "I shall not overtake my friend, but I shall kill your horse, therefore I had better stop. Here are thirty francs; I will sleep at the Red Horse, and will secure a place in the first coach. Good-night, friend." And Andrea, after placing six pieces of five francs each in the man's hand, leaped lightly on to the pathway. The cabman joyfully pocketed the sum, and turned back on his road to Paris. Andrea pretended to go towards the Red Horse inn, but after leaning an instant against the door, and hearing the last sound of the cab, which was disappearing from view, he went on his road, and with a lusty stride soon traversed the space of two leagues. Then he rested; he must be near Chapelle-en-Serval, where he pretended to be going. It was not fatigue that stayed Andrea here; it was that he might form some resolution, adopt some plan. It would be impossible to make use of a diligence, equally so to engage post-horses; to travel either way a passport was necessary. It was still more impossible to remain in the department of the Oise, one of the most open and strictly guarded in France; this was quite out of the question, especially to a man like Andrea, perfectly conversant with criminal matters. 
He sat down by the side of the moat, buried his face in his hands and reflected. Ten minutes after he raised his head; his resolution was made. He threw some dust over the topcoat, which he had found time to unhook from the ante-chamber and button over his ball costume, and going to Chapelle-en-Serval he knocked loudly at the door of the only inn in the place. The host opened. "My friend," said Andrea, "I was coming from Montefontaine to Senlis, when my horse, which is a troublesome creature, stumbled and threw me. I must reach Compiègne to-night, or I shall cause deep anxiety to my family. Could you let me hire a horse of you?" 
An inn-keeper has always a horse to let, whether it be good or bad. The host called the stable-boy, and ordered him to saddle "Whitey," then he awoke his son, a child of seven years, whom he ordered to ride before the gentleman and bring back the horse. Andrea gave the inn-keeper twenty francs, and in taking them from his pocket dropped a visiting card. This belonged to one of his friends at the Café de Paris, so that the innkeeper, picking it up after Andrea had left, was convinced that he had let his horse to the Count of Mauléon, 25 Rue Saint-Dominique, that being the name and address on the card. "Whitey" was not a fast animal, but he kept up an easy, steady pace; in three hours and a half Andrea had traversed the nine leagues which separated him from Compiègne, and four o'clock struck as he reached the place where the coaches stop. There is an excellent tavern at Compiègne, well remembered by those who have ever been there. Andrea, who had often stayed there in his rides about Paris, recollected the Bell and Bottle inn; he turned around, saw the sign by the light of a reflected lamp, and having dismissed the child, giving him all the small coin he had about him, he began knocking at the door, very reasonably concluding that having now three or four hours before him he had best fortify himself against the fatigues of the morrow by a sound sleep and a good supper. A waiter opened the door. 
"My friend," said Andrea, "I have been dining at Saint-Jean-au-Bois, and expected to catch the coach which passes by at midnight, but like a fool I have lost my way, and have been walking for the last four hours in the forest. Show me into one of those pretty little rooms which overlook the court, and bring me a cold fowl and a bottle of Bordeaux." The waiter had no suspicions; Andrea spoke with perfect composure, he had a cigar in his mouth, and his hands in the pocket of his top coat; his clothes were fashionably made, his chin smooth, his boots irreproachable; he looked merely as if he had stayed out very late, that was all. While the waiter was preparing his room, the hostess arose; Andrea assumed his most charming smile, and asked if he could have No. 3, which he had occupied on his last stay at Compiègne. Unfortunately, No. 3 was engaged by a young man who was travelling with his sister. Andrea appeared in despair, but consoled himself when the hostess assured him that No. 7, prepared for him, was situated precisely the same as No. 3, and while warming his feet and chatting about the last races at Chantilly, he waited until they announced his room to be ready. 
Andrea had not spoken without cause of the pretty rooms looking out upon the court of the Bell Tavern, which with its triple galleries like those of a theatre, with the jessamine and clematis twining round the light columns, forms one of the prettiest entrances to an inn that you can imagine. The fowl was tender, the wine old, the fire clear and sparkling, and Andrea was surprised to find himself eating with as good an appetite as though nothing had happened. Then be went to bed and almost immediately fell into that deep sleep which is sure to visit men of twenty years of age, even when they are torn with remorse. Now, here we are obliged to own that Andrea ought to have felt remorse, but that he did not. This was the plan which had appealed to him to afford the best chance of his security. Before daybreak he would awake, leave the inn after rigorously paying his bill, and reaching the forest, he would, under presence of making studies in painting, test the hospitality of some peasants, procure himself the dress of a woodcutter and a hatchet, casting off the lion's skin to assume that of the woodman; then, with his hands covered with dirt, his hair darkened by means of a leaden comb, his complexion embrowned with a preparation for which one of his old comrades had given him the recipe, he intended, by following the wooded districts, to reach the nearest frontier, walking by night and sleeping in the day in the forests and quarries, and only entering inhabited regions to buy a loaf from time to time. 
Once past the frontier, Andrea proposed making money of his diamonds; and by uniting the proceeds to ten bank-notes he always carried about with him in case of accident, he would then find himself possessor of about 50,000 livres, which he philosophically considered as no very deplorable condition after all. Moreover, he reckoned much on the interest of the Danglars to hush up the rumor of their own misadventures. These were the reasons which, added to the fatigue, caused Andrea to sleep so soundly. In order that he might awaken early he did not close the shutters, but contented himself with bolting the door and placing on the table an unclasped and long-pointed knife, whose temper he well knew, and which was never absent from him. About seven in the morning Andrea was awakened by a ray of sunlight, which played, warm and brilliant, upon his face. In all well-organized brains, the predominating idea--and there always is one--is sure to be the last thought before sleeping, and the first upon waking in the morning. Andrea had scarcely opened his eyes when his predominating idea presented itself, and whispered in his ear that he had slept too long. He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. A gendarme was crossing the court. A gendarme is one of the most striking objects in the world, even to a man void of uneasiness; but for one who has a timid conscience, and with good cause too, the yellow, blue, and white uniform is really very alarming. 
"Why is that gendarme there?" asked Andrea of himself. Then, all at once, he replied, with that logic which the reader has, doubtless, remarked in him, "There is nothing astonishing in seeing a gendarme at an inn; instead of being astonished, let me dress myself." And the youth dressed himself with a facility his valet de chambre had failed to rob him of during the two months of fashionable life he had led in Paris. "Now then," said Andrea, while dressing himself, "I'll wait till he leaves, and then I'll slip away." And, saying this, Andrea, who had now put on his boots and cravat, stole gently to the window, and a second time lifted up the muslin curtain. Not only was the first gendarme still there, but the young man now perceived a second yellow, blue, and white uniform at the foot of the staircase, the only one by which he could descend, while a third, on horseback, holding a musket in his fist, was posted as a sentinel at the great street door which alone afforded the means of egress. 
The appearance of the third gendarme settled the matter, for a crowd of curious loungers was extended before him, effectually blocking the entrance to the hotel. "They're after me!" was Andrea's first thought. "Diable!" 
A pallor overspread the young man's forehead, and he looked around him with anxiety. His room, like all those on the same floor, had but one outlet to the gallery in the sight of everybody. "I am lost!" was his second thought; and, indeed, for a man in Andrea's situation, an arrest meant the assizes, trial, and death,--death without mercy or delay. For a moment he convulsively pressed his head within his hands, and during that brief period he became nearly mad with terror; but soon a ray of hope glimmered in the multitude of thoughts which bewildered his mind, and a faint smile played upon his white lips and pallid cheeks. He looked around and saw the objects of his search upon the chimney-piece; they were a pen, ink, and paper. With forced composure he dipped the pen in the ink, and wrote the following lines upon a sheet of paper:-- 
"I have no money to pay my bill, but I am not a dishonest man; I leave behind me as a pledge this pin, worth ten times the amount. I shall be excused for leaving at daybreak, for I was ashamed." 
He then drew the pin from his cravat and placed it on the paper. This done, instead of leaving the door fastened, he drew back the bolts and even placed the door ajar, as though he had left the room, forgetting to close it, and slipping into the chimney like a man accustomed to that kind of gymnastic exercise, having effaced the marks of his feet upon the floor, he commenced climbing the only opening which afforded him the means of escape. At this precise time, the first gendarme Andrea had noticed walked up-stairs, preceded by the commissary of police, and supported by the second gendarme who guarded the staircase and was himself re-enforced by the one stationed at the door. 
Andrea was indebted for this visit to the following circumstances. At daybreak, the telegraphs were set at work in all directions, and almost immediately the authorities in every district had exerted their utmost endeavors to arrest the murderer of Caderousse. Compiègne, that royal residence and fortified town, is well furnished with authorities, gendarmes, and commissaries of police; they therefore began operations as soon as the telegraphic despatch arrived, and the Bell and Bottle being the best-known hotel in the town, they had naturally directed their first inquiries there. 
Now, besides the reports of the sentinels guarding the H?tel de Ville, which is next door to the Bell and Bottle, it had been stated by others that a number of travellers had arrived during the night. The sentinel who was relieved at six o'clock in the morning, remembered perfectly that just as he was taking his post a few minutes past four a young man arrived on horseback, with a little boy before him. The young man, having dismissed the boy and horse, knocked at the door of the hotel, which was opened, and again closed after his entrance. This late arrival had attracted much suspicion, and the young man being no other than Andrea, the commissary and gendarme, who was a brigadier, directed their steps towards his room. 
They found the door ajar. "Oh, ho," said the brigadier, who thoroughly understood the trick; "a bad sign to find the door open! I would rather find it triply bolted." And, indeed, the little note and pin upon the table confirmed, or rather corroborated, the sad truth. Andrea had fled. We say corroborated, because the brigadier was too experienced to be convinced by a single proof. He glanced around, looked in the bed, shook the curtains, opened the closets, and finally stopped at the chimney. Andrea had taken the precaution to leave no traces of his feet in the ashes, but still it was an outlet, and in this light was not to be passed over without serious investigation. 
The brigadier sent for some sticks and straw, and having filled the chimney with them, set a light to it. The fire crackled, and the smoke ascended like the dull vapor from a volcano; but still no prisoner fell down, as they expected. The fact was, that Andrea, at war with society ever since his youth, was quite as deep as a gendarme, even though he were advanced to the rank of brigadier, and quite prepared for the fire, he had climbed out on the roof and was crouching down against the chimney-pots. At one time he thought he was saved, for he heard the brigadier exclaim in a loud voice, to the two gendarmes, "He is not here!" But venturing to peep, he perceived that the latter, instead of retiring, as might have been reasonably expected upon this announcement, were watching with increased attention. 
It was now his turn to look about him; the H?tel de Ville, a massive sixteenth century building, was on his right; any one could descend from the openings in the tower, and examine every corner of the roof below, and Andrea expected momentarily to see the head of a gendarme appear at one of these openings. If once discovered, he knew he would be lost, for the roof afforded no chance of escape; he therefore resolved to descend, not through the same chimney by which he had come up, but by a similar one conducting to another room. He looked around for a chimney from which no smoke issued, and having reached it, he disappeared through the orifice without being seen by any one. At the same minute, one of the little windows of the H?tel de Ville was thrown open, and the head of a gendarme appeared. For an instant it remained motionless as one of the stone decorations of the building, then after a long sigh of disappointment the head disappeared. The brigadier, calm and dignified as the law he represented, passed through the crowd, without answering the thousand questions addressed to him, and re-entered the hotel. 
"Well?" asked the two gendarmes. 
"Well, my boys," said the brigadier, "the brigand must really have escaped early this morning; but we will send to the Villers-Coterets and Noyon roads, and search the forest, when we shall catch him, no doubt." The honorable functionary had scarcely expressed himself thus, in that intonation which is peculiar to brigadiers of the gendarmerie, when a loud scream, accompanied by the violent ringing of a bell, resounded through the court of the hotel. "Ah, what is that?" cried the brigadier. 
"Some traveller seems impatient," said the host. "What number was it that rang?" 
"Number 3." 
"Run, waiter!" At this moment the screams and ringing were redoubled. "Ah," said the brigadier, stopping the servant, "the person who is ringing appears to want something more than a waiter; we will attend upon him with a gendarme. Who occupies Number 3?" 
"The little fellow who arrived last night in a post-chaise with his sister, and who asked for an apartment with two beds." The bell here rang for the third time, with another shriek of anguish. 
"Follow me, Mr. Commissary!" said the brigadier; "tread in my steps." 
"Wait an instant," said the host; "Number 3 has two staircases,--inside and outside." 
"Good," said the brigadier. "I will take charge of the inside one. Are the carbines loaded?" 
"Yes, brigadier." 
"Well, you guard the exterior, and if he attempts to fly, fire upon him; he must be a great criminal, from what the telegraph says." 
The brigadier, followed by the commissary, disappeared by the inside staircase, accompanied by the noise which his assertions respecting Andrea had excited in the crowd. This is what had happened. Andrea had very cleverly managed to descend two-thirds of the chimney, but then his foot slipped, and notwithstanding his endeavors, he came into the room with more speed and noise than he intended. It would have signified little had the room been empty, but unfortunately it was occupied. Two ladies, sleeping in one bed, were awakened by the noise, and fixing their eyes upon the spot whence the sound proceeded, they saw a man. One of these ladies, the fair one, uttered those terrible shrieks which resounded through the house, while the other, rushing to the bell-rope, rang with all her strength. Andrea, as we can see, was surrounded by misfortune. 
"For pity's sake," he cried, pale and bewildered, without seeing whom he was addressing,--"for pity's sake do not call assistance! Save me!--I will not harm you." 
"Andrea, the murderer!" cried one of the ladies. 
"Eugénie! Mademoiselle Danglars!" exclaimed Andrea, stupefied. 
"Help, help!" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, taking the bell from her companion's hand, and ringing it yet more violently. "Save me, I am pursued!" said Andrea, clasping his hands. "For pity, for mercy's sake do not deliver me up!" 
"It is too late, they are coming," said Eugénie. 
"Well, conceal me somewhere; you can say you were needlessly alarmed; you can turn their suspicions and save my life!" 
The two ladies, pressing closely to one another, and drawing the bedclothes tightly around them, remained silent to this supplicating voice, repugnance and fear taking possession of their minds. 
"Well, be it so," at length said Eugénie; "return by the same road you came, and we will say nothing about you, unhappy wretch." 
"Here he is, here he is!" cried a voice from the landing; "here he is! I see him!" The brigadier had put his eye to the keyhole, and had discovered Andrea in a posture of entreaty. A violent blow from the butt end of the musket burst open the lock, two more forced out the bolts, and the broken door fell in. Andrea ran to the other door, leading to the gallery, ready to rush out; but he was stopped short, and he stood with his body a little thrown back, pale, and with the useless knife in his clinched hand. 
"Fly, then!" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whose pity returned as her fears diminished; "fly!" 
"Or kill yourself!" said Eugénie (in a tone which a Vestal in the amphitheatre would have used, when urging the victorious gladiator to finish his vanquished adversary). Andrea shuddered, and looked on the young girl with an expression which proved how little he understood such ferocious honor. "Kill myself?" he cried, throwing down his knife; "why should I do so?" 
"Why, you said," answered Mademoiselle Danglars, "that you would be condemned to die like the worst criminals." 
"Bah," said Cavalcanti, crossing his arms, "one has friends." 
The brigadier advanced to him, sword in hand. "Come, come," said Andrea, "sheathe your sword, my fine fellow; there is no occasion to make such a fuss, since I give myself up;" and he held out his hands to be manacled. The girls looked with horror upon this shameful metamorphosis, the man of the world shaking off his covering and appearing as a galley-slave. Andrea turned towards them, and with an impertinent smile asked,--"Have you any message for your father, Mademoiselle Danglars, for in all probability I shall return to Paris?" 
Eugénie covered her face with her hands. "Oh, ho!" said Andrea, "you need not be ashamed, even though you did post after me. Was I not nearly your husband?" 
And with this raillery Andrea went out, leaving the two girls a prey to their own feelings of shame, and to the comments of the crowd. An hour after they stepped into their calash, both dressed in feminine attire. The gate of the hotel had been closed to screen them from sight, but they were forced, when the door was open, to pass through a throng of curious glances and whispering voices. Eugénie closed her eyes; but though she could not see, she could hear, and the sneers of the crowd reached her in the carriage. "Oh, why is not the world a wilderness?" she exclaimed, throwing herself into the arms of Mademoiselle d'Armilly, her eyes sparkling with the same kind of rage which made Nero wish that the Roman world had but one neck, that he might sever it at a single blow. The next day they stopped at the H?tel de Flandre, at Brussels. The same evening Andrea was incarcerated in the concièrgerie.  
现在我们暂且不谈腾格拉尔小姐和她的朋友如何驱车奔赴布鲁塞尔，回过头来叙述那在飞黄腾达途中意想不到地遭受了严重打击的可怜的安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂。安德烈先生虽然年轻，但却是一个非常机智聪明的青年。我们上文提到：他一听风声不妙，就渐渐挨向门口，穿过两三个房间，溜之大吉了。但我们已经记忆提到一件事情，而那件事情是决不应该漏掉的；就是：在他所穿过的一个房间里，放着那位未来新娘的嫁妆，——包括一盒盒的钻石、克什米尔羊毛披巾、威尼斯花边、英国面纱，还有其他提到它们的名字就会使青年姑娘们的满心欢喜地狂跳起来的诱人的东西。在经过这个房间的时候，安德烈不但证明他自己机智聪明，而且也证明了他的深谋远虑，因为他不客气地偷了一些最贵重的首饰。得到了这一些俘获品以后，安德烈便怀着一颗较轻松的心跳出窗口，准备溜出宪兵之手。高大得象一个古代的武士，强健得象一个斯巴达人的他，无头无绪地在街上走了一刻钟，心里只有一个念头，就是要赶快离开他知道一定会遭逮捕的那个地方。穿过蒙勃兰克路以后，凭着每个窃贼避开城栅的本能，他发觉自己已到了拉法叶特路的尽头，他在那儿上气不接下气地停下来。这个地方很寂静。一边是那空旷的圣·拉柴荒原，另一边，是那黑沉沉的巴黎。“我完蛋了吗？”他喊道，“不，假如我能比我的敌人跑得更快就能得救，我就不会完。我的安全现在只是一个速度快慢问题而已。“这个时候，他看见有一辆单人马车停在波尼丽街口。车夫懒洋洋地吸着烟，似乎想把车子驶回到对面的圣·但尼街口去，他显然是经常停在那儿的。 
“喂，朋友！”贝尼代托说。 
“怎么样，先生？”那车夫问。 
“你的马跑累了吗？” 
“跑累了？噢，是的，够疲倦的啦！今天这个好日子—— 
一点好买卖都不曾做过！四个倒霉的乘客，二十几个铜板，合起来一共只有七个法郎，这就是今天的全部收入，而我却得付给车行老板十个法郎。” 
“你可愿意再加上二十个法郎？在你已经有的七个法郎上面吗？” 
“那当然好，先生，二十个法郎可不是个小数目呀。告诉我怎样才能得到它。” 
“假如你的马不疲劳，那是一件非常容易做到的事情。” 
“我告诉你，它跑起来象一阵风，只要你告诉我到哪儿去就得啦。” 
“去罗浮。” 
“啊，我知道的！那出苦杏仁酒的地方。” 
“一点不错，我只希望追上我的一个朋友，我跟他说好明天一同到塞凡尔镇去打猎。我们约定他的一辆轻便马车在这儿等到我十一点半。现在十二点了，他一定是等得不耐烦，先走了。” 
“大概是的。” 
“噢，你愿意帮助我追上他吗？” 
“那是我最乐意的事啦。” 
“要是在我们到达布尔歇的时候你还不曾追上他，我给你二十法郎，假如到罗浮还追不上，就付给三十。” 
“而假如我们追上了他呢？” 
“四十。”安德烈犹豫了一会儿，但随即想起不应该这样许诺。 
“那好吧！”那个人说，“进来吧，我们走。” 
安德烈坐进单人马车，车子便急速地走过圣·但尼街，顺着圣·马丁街越过城栅，进入了那无穷尽的旷野。他们一直不曾追上那位幻想中的朋友，可是安德烈常常向路上的行人和尚未关门的小客栈，打听是否有一辆由栗色马所拖的绿色轻便马车经过；因为到倍斯湾去的路上有许多轻便马车，而十分之九的轻便马车又是绿色的，所以他随时都可以打听到消息。每一个人都刚看见那样的一辆马车驶过去；就在前面五百步，二百步，一百步；最后他们终于追上它了，但不是他的那位朋友的。有一次，单人马车越过一辆由两匹马拉着正在疾驰的四轮马车。“啊！”卡瓦尔康蒂心里对他自己说，“要是我有了那辆四轮马车，那两匹善奔跑的快马，尤其是，那辆马车上的人所带的护照，那就太好啦！”于是他深深地叹了一口气。那辆双人马车里载着腾格拉尔小姐和亚密莱小姐。 
“快！快！”安德烈说，“我们不久一定能赶上他了。”于是那匹自离开城门以来不曾减缓速度的可怜的马，就继续拚命地往前奔跑，上气不接下气地跑到罗浮。 
“当然罗，”安德烈说，“我是追不上我的朋友了，但这样会把你的马累死的，所以我们还是停下来吧。这是三十法郎，我到红马旅馆去住夜，明天再搭便车前去。晚安，朋友。” 
于是安德烈把六枚五法郎的银币放到那个人的手里，轻快地跳到路上。那车夫欢天喜地拿了那笔钱，往回走去。安德烈假装向红马旅馆走去；但他只在旅馆门外站了一会儿，等到车轮的声音渐渐走远了，马车的影子渐渐消失的时候，他便立刻上路，急匆匆的步行了六里路程。他休息了一会儿；这就是他说过要去的塞凡尔镇附近了。安德烈这次的休息并不是因为疲倦，而是要仔细想一想，采取一个计划做一个规定。 
他不能利用马车，乘马车或租马必须要有护照。他也不能留在瓦兹区，这是法国藏身最困难和防卫最严密的省份之一，象安德烈这样的一位犯罪专家，知道要在这一带隐匿起来是非常困难的。他在一座土墙旁边坐下来，把他的脸埋在双手里深深地思考了一会。十分钟以后，他抬起头来；他已经做出了决定了。他从地下抓起一把碎土，抹在他当时从候见室里取下来穿在晚礼服外的那件外套上，走进塞凡尔镇，用力拍打镇上那间唯一的小客栈的门。“我的朋友，”安德烈说，“我从蒙芳丹来，到森里斯去，我那匹可悲的马折断了腿，摔了我一跤。我必须在今夜到达贡比涅，不然就会使我家里人非常担心。你能租一匹马给我吗？” 
一个客栈老板总是有一匹马出租的，但是马的好坏就不敢说了。塞凡尔镇的那位老板赶快把那管马厩的小伙计来，吩咐给他把那匹“追风马”加鞍子；然后他喊醒他那七岁的儿子，吩咐他与这位先生合骑那匹马，到了目的地把马骑回来。 
安德烈给那个客栈老板十法郎，当他从口袋里掏钱的时候，他丢下了一张名片。那张名片是他在巴黎咖啡馆认识的一位朋友的，所以安德烈离开以后，客栈老板拾起名片一看，便认为他把他的马租给了家住圣·多米尼克街二十五号的马伦伯爵，因为名片上印着这个名字和地址。追风马并不是一匹跑得很快的马，但它却走得很均匀而不停歇；三个半钟头以后，安德烈走完了到贡比涅的二十七哩路，四点钟的时候，他已经到了公共驿车的终点。贡比涅有一家很豪华的旅馆，凡是曾经到过那儿的人大概都记得很清楚。安德烈从巴黎骑马出游的时候常常在那儿停留，当然记得钟瓶旅馆。他一转身，在路灯的光线，看见了那家旅馆的招牌，便掏出他身边所有的零钱，打发走了那个孩子，然后开始去敲门。他想得很仔细：现在还有三四个钟头的时间，最好是能有一次甜蜜的睡眠和一顿丰盛的晚餐来消除自己的疲劳。一个侍者出来开门。 
“我的朋友，”安德烈说，“我在圣·波耳斯用了晚餐，希望搭一辆午夜经过的便车，结果象一个傻瓜似地迷了路，在森林里走了四个钟头。给我弄一间面朝院子的精致的小房间，给我送一只冻鸡和一瓶波尔多酒来。” 
侍者毫不疑心，安德烈说话的神情从容自若，他的嘴里含着一支雪茄，双手插在套袋里，衣服高雅，下巴光滑，皮靴雪亮，他看来只是一个在外面呆得非常晚的人而已。当侍者为他收拾房间的时候，旅馆老板娘起来了，安德烈拿出他最可爱的微笑，问他是否能住在第三号房间，因为他上次来贡比涅也是住在那个房间里。不巧的是，第三号房间已有一个青年男客和他的妹妹住上了。安德烈很失望的样子，但旅馆老板娘向他保证，现在为他准备的那个第七号房间，里面布置与第三号房间一样，他就又高兴起来了，便一面在壁炉旁边烤暖他的脚，一面与老板娘闲聊尚蒂伊最近赛马的情况，一直等到侍者来告诉他们房间准备就绪。 
安德烈称赞钟瓶旅馆那些向院子的房间漂亮，不是没有原因的，原来钟瓶旅馆的门口象歌剧院一样，有三重门廊，两旁的廊柱上缠着一些素馨花和铁线莲，看上去是一个最美丽的进口。鸡非常新鲜，酒是陈年老酿，壁炉的火熊熊燃烧，安德烈惊奇地发觉他自己的胃口竟然象未遇意外事故时同样好。吃完后他就上床，而且立刻就进入了梦乡，这本来是二十岁左右的青年的情形，即使他们在满心悔恨的时候也是这样。我们本来认为安德烈应该感到悔恨，但他却不这样认为。 
他已经有了一个非常安全的计划：他在天亮以前醒来，很快地付清了账单，离开旅馆，进入森林，然后，借口要画画，他花钱受到一个农民的友好接待，给自己弄到一套伐木者的衣服，一把斧头，脱掉身上的狮子皮，打扮成伐木者的装束；然后，他用泥土涂满双手，用一把铅梳弄脏他的头发，用他的一个老同行传授他的方法把他的皮肤染成褐色，白天睡觉，晚上行路，只在必要的时候才到有人的地方去买一块面包吃，在森林里穿来穿去，一直到达最近的边境。一旦越过了国界，安德烈便准备把他的钻石换成钱；加上他一直藏在身边以备不时之需的那十张钞票，他还可以有五万里弗左右，这样，他乐观地认为他的状况已并不十分悲惨了。而且，他认为腾格拉尔为了面子，一定会阻止那件丑事的张扬。这些理由，再加上疲倦，竟使安德烈睡得非常香甜。为了要早醒，他不曾关百叶窗，但他小心地闩好房门，并把那柄他永不离身的尖利的小刀放在桌子上。早晨七点钟左右，一缕温暖而又耀眼的阳光照到安德烈的脸上，唤醒了他。凡是条理清晰的头脑里，晚上临睡前的最后一个念头和早晨醒来时的第一个念头总是相同的。安德烈还不曾睁开眼睛，他昨晚的念头便浮上他的脑海里来，并且在他的耳边轻轻地说，你睡得太久了。他从床上一跃而起，奔到窗口。一个宪兵正在院子里踱步。在一个良心上没有任何内疚的人，宪兵也是世界上最让人心理发怵的东西，那黄蓝白的三色制服，实在是非常值得惊惶的。 
“那个宪兵为什么在那儿呢？”安德烈自言自语地说。但立刻，——读者们无疑地也会对他这样说——他又理智地对他自己说，“在一家旅馆里看见一个宪兵是不值得惊奇的。我不要吓慌，赶紧穿好衣服再说吧！”于是那青年人便很快地穿起衣服来；他在巴黎过豪华生活的那几个月中，他的仆人给他脱衣服也没有自己现在穿衣服这样快。“好！”安德烈一面穿衣服，一面说。“等到他离开，我就可以溜了。”安德烈现在已穿上皮靴、打好领结，他一面这样说，一面轻轻地走到窗口，第二次掀起麻纱窗帘。不但第一个宪兵依旧站在那儿，他现在发觉第二个穿黄蓝白三色制服的人站在楼梯脚下，——他下楼唯一的柴梯，——而第三个宪兵则骑着马，手里握着火枪，象一个哨兵似的站在大门口的街上，而钟瓶旅馆又只有这样一个出口。这第三个宪兵的出现肯定有特殊的原因的，因为他的前面有一群好奇的闲荡汉，紧紧地阻塞了旅馆的进口。“糟糕！他们找我！”这是安德烈的第一个念头。他的脸色立刻变得煞白，他焦急地向四面观望。他的房间，象这一层楼所有的房间一样，只有一扇通向走廊的门，从那道门出去是谁都看得见的。“我完啦！”这是他的第二个念头。的确，一个象安德烈犯那样罪的人，一次被捕就是等于终生的监禁、审判和处死，——而且毫不被人同情或早晚被处死。他痉挛地把他的头在自己的双手里埋了一会儿，在那一刹那间，他几乎吓得发疯；不久，从那混乱不清的脑子里和杂乱的思想里闪出了一线希望，他变白的嘴唇和苍白的脸上现出一丝微笑。他向四面一看，在壁炉架上看见了他所搜索的目标；那是笔、墨水和纸。他勉强镇定下来，把笔在墨水里蘸了一蘸，在一张纸上写了下面这几行字：“我没有钱付账，但我并非是一个不忠实的人；我留下这只十倍于房钱饭钱的夹针作抵押品。我在天刚亮时就逃走了，因为这会使我很难堪。” 
于是他从领结上除下别针，放在那张纸上。等这一切办完以后，他不让房门继续紧闭，走过去拔开门闩，甚至把门拉成半开半掩的样子，象是他已离开房间，忘记关门似的；他抹掉地板上的足迹，熟练地溜进壁炉烟囱，开始顺着空烟囱往上爬；烟囱是他逃走的唯一机会了。与此同时，安德烈所注意到的那第一个宪兵已跟着警察局的执事官走上楼来，第二个宪兵仍守着楼梯，第三个宪兵仍守在大门口。 
安德烈这次受追捕，背景是这样的：天一亮，紧急急报发向四面八方；各区的地方当局几乎立刻就以最大的努力来捕捉谋杀卡德鲁斯的凶手。贡比涅是一个警卫森严的市镇，有众多地方行政官吏、宪兵和警察；所以急报一到，他们便立即开始活动，而钟瓶旅馆是镇上的第一家大旅馆，他们自然要先到这来调查。而且，据在钟瓶旅馆隔壁市政府门口站岗的哨兵的报告，知道当天晚上那家旅馆住了几个旅客。那个在早晨六点钟下班的哨兵甚至还记得，正当他在四点零几分上班的时候，有一个青年人和一个小孩子合骑着一匹马到来。 
那个青年在打发了那孩子骑马走以后，就去敲钟瓶旅馆的门，旅馆开门让他进去，然后又关上门。于是疑点便落到了那个这样夜深出门的青年人身上。 
那个青年不是别人，就是安德烈。所以，警察局的执事官和那宪兵——他是团长——便朝安德烈的房间走来。他们发觉房门半开半掩。“噢，噢！”宪兵团长说，他是一个老狐狸，对罪犯的这套把戏称得上是见多识广，“开着门可是一个坏兆头！我情愿发现门关得紧紧的。”的确，桌子上的那张小纸条和夹针证实，或者不妨说，应验了他那句话的正确性。我们说应验，是因为那位宪兵团长经验丰富，决不肯只见到一件证据就深信不疑。他四面张望，翻一翻床，掀动帐帏，打开柜门，最后，在壁炉前面站停下来。安德烈曾小心不在炉灰里留下脚迹，但这是一个出口，而在那种情形下，每一个出口都需要严格检查，宪兵团长派人去拿一些麦杆来，把它塞满壁炉，然后点着火。火毕毕剥剥地烧起来，一股浓黑的烟柱沿着烟囱往上窜；但烟囱里却没有像他预期的那样有犯人掉下来。事实上：那宪兵虽很有经验，但自小就与社会作战的安德烈，其经验却也同样丰富；他早就预料到有这一场火攻，所以已爬到屋顶上，蜷缩在烟囱旁边。他现在认为自己已得救，因为他听到那宪兵团长大声对那两个宪兵喊道：“他不在这里啦！”但他小心地探出头看一下，他发觉宪兵在听到这个宣布以后非但没有退走，反而显得更警惕了。现在轮到他来向四周观望了。他的右边是市政府，一座十六世纪的大厦。任何人都可以从楼顶的窗口望下来，仔细察看下面屋顶上的每一个角落；而安德烈看见随时会有一个宪兵的头颅从那些窗口里探出来。要是一旦被发觉，他知道他就完了，因为屋顶上的一场追逐是不能幸免的；所以他决定下去，但不是从他上来时的烟囱下去，而是从通到另一个房间的烟囱下去。他四面环顾，找到一个不冒烟的烟囱，爬到那儿以后，他就神不知鬼不觉地消失到那烟囱口里了。在这同时，市政府楼顶的一扇小窗猛烈地被推开，宪兵团长的头露了出来。他在那儿一动不动地停留了一会儿，象是那座建筑物上的石雕装饰品一样，然后，就听得一声失望的长叹，他就不见了。那镇定和庄严得象代表法律一样的宪兵团长穿过人群，并不理会落到他身上来的种种询问的目光，重新走入钟瓶旅馆。 
“怎么样？”那两个宪兵问。 
“嗯，孩子们，”团长说，“那逃犯一定是今天一早就逃走了。但我们将派人到通维莱科特雷和诺永的路上去追赶他，并且加紧搜索森林，我们一定能捉到他。” 
这位可敬的官员刚才用宪兵团长所特有的一阵那种抑扬顿挫的腔调说完这番话，就听得一声长长的惊叫，伴随着猛烈的铃声，传到旅馆的院子里。 
“啊，那是什么声音？”宪兵团长喊道。 
“似乎是有一位旅客等得不耐烦了，”老板说。“哪一个房间拉铃？” 
“三号。” 
“快跑去，侍者！” 
这时，喊叫和铃声又响起来。 
“啊，啊！”宪兵团长阻止那仆人，说，“拉铃的那个人看来不仅仅要一个侍者，我们带一个宪兵去。第三号房间里住的是谁？” 
“昨天晚上到的一个小伙子，是乘马车来的，带着他的妹妹，他要了一个双铺房间。”这时铃声第三次响起来，听起来焦急万分。 
“跟我来，警长先生！”宪兵团长说，“紧跟着我。” 
“等一等，”老板说，“第三号房间有两道楼梯，一道内梯，一道外梯。” 
“好！”宪兵团长说。“我负责内楼。枪里装好子弹了吗？” 
“装好了，团长。” 
“呣，你们把守外梯，假如他想逃跑，就开枪打他。据急报上所说的，他一定是一个危险的犯人。” 
宪兵团长的安排在人群里激起了一片喧哗声，而他就和警察局的先生在这一片喧哗声中走上楼梯去了。 
刚才的情形是这样的：安德烈非常熟练地下落到烟囱三分之二的地方，那时，他的脚一滑，虽然他两手仍旧抱住烟囱，他带着比他所原来想到的更大的速度和声音落到房间里。 
假若那房间是空的，本来还无所谓，但不幸房间里却住着人。 
那种响声惊醒了睡在一张床上的两个女人，她们把眼睛向发出声音的地方看了一眼，看见了一个男人。这两个女人之中的一个，皮肤白皙的那一个，发出了令人恐怖的尖叫；另外那一个则抢住那条位铃的绳带，用尽全力猛拉。我们可以看出，安德烈是被不幸所包围住了。 
“发发慈悲吧，”他脸色苍白，迷惑地喊道，根本不曾看清是在向谁说话，——“发发慈悲吧，不要喊人！救救我！我不会伤害你们的。” 
“安德烈！竟会是他！”她们当中的一个喊道。 
“欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐！”亚密莱小姐一面喊，一面从她同伴的手里夺过绳带，更猛烈拉铃。 
“救救我，有人追我！”安德烈合拢双手说。“可怜可怜，发发慈悲吧，不要把我交给警方！” 
“太迟啦，他们来了。”欧热妮说。 
“嗯，把我藏起来，你们可以说，你们无缘无故地惊惶。你们可以引开他们视线，救救我的命！” 
那两位小姐紧紧地挨一起，用床单紧紧地裹住她们的身体，不理会这种恳求；种种嫌恶的念头在她们的脑子里缠绕。 
“好！这样吧，”欧热妮终于说，“从你来的那条路回去吧，我不会说出你的事情，你这卑鄙的坏蛋。” 
“他在这儿！他在这儿！”楼梯顶上的一个声音喊道，“他在这儿！我看见他啦！” 
原来那宪兵团长把他的眼睛放在钥匙孔上，已看见安德烈站在那儿苦苦哀求，枪托猛烈的一击震开了锁，接连又两下打垮了门闩，那扇打破了的门倒了下来。安德烈奔到通往走廊的那扇门前，打开门想冲出去。两个宪兵端着火枪站在那儿，他们把枪端平了对准他。安德烈顿时站住，身体微微后仰，脸色苍白，手里紧紧地捏住那把无用的小刀。 
“赶快逃呀！”亚密莱小姐喊道，她的恐惧感渐渐消失，又开始发起慈悲心，“逃呀！” 
“不然就自杀！”欧热妮说，她的口气象是在吩咐竞技场上胜利的武士了结他那被征服的对手一样。 
安德烈打了一个寒颤，带着一个轻蔑的微笑望着欧热妮，显然可以看出他那腐败头脑无法懂得这种崇高的荣誉感。“自杀！”他抛下他的小刀喊道，“我为什么要那样做？” 
“你还说为什么，”腾格拉尔小姐回答道，“你会象穷凶极恶的犯人那样被判处死刑的。” 
“哼！”卡瓦尔康蒂交叉起两臂说，“一个人总是有朋友的帮助呀！” 
宪兵团长手里握着剑向他走过来。 
“来，来，”安德烈说，“把你的剑插回到鞘里吧，勇敢的人，我既然已自甘屈服，又何必这样剑拔弩张呢。”于是他伸出双手等待上铐。两位姑娘恐怖地望着这种可怕的一切，——那凡夫俗子已剥掉他的皮层，露出监狱里犯人的真面目。安德烈转向她们，带着一种无礼的微笑问道，“你有什么话要带给令尊吗，腾格拉尔小姐？因为我多半还是要回到巴黎去的。” 
欧热妮双手挡住自己面孔。“噢，噢！”安德烈说，“何必难为情呢，即使你真的跟踪我，我对你的印象也不会太坏。我不是几乎做了你的丈夫了吗？” 
安德烈带着这种嘲弄走出去了，留下那两个姑娘去承受她们所受的侮辱和看热闹的群众的评论。一小时以后，她们都穿戴着女子的衣服跨进她们的四轮马车。旅馆曾关门来挡住闲人的眼光；但当大门重开的时候，她们却只好从两排带着发光的眼睛和窃窃私语的好奇的旁观者之中挤出去。欧热妮关上百叶窗，她虽然看不见，她却还能听得些什么，群众的讥诮声依旧还能钻到马车里来。“噢！为什么世界不是一片旷野呢？”她一面这样悲叹，一面倒入亚密莱小姐的怀里，她这时眼睛里所露出的怒火，正如尼罗王希望罗马世界有一条颈子，他一击就能把它斩断。第二天，她们车子在希鲁塞尔法兰达旅馆的门口停下。当天晚上，安德烈被拘禁在卫兵室里。
Chapter 99 The Law
 WE HAVE SEEN how quietly Mademoiselle Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly accomplished their transformation and flight; the fact being that every one was too much occupied in his or her own affairs to think of theirs. We will leave the banker contemplating the enormous magnitude of his debt before the phantom of bankruptcy, and follow the baroness, who after being momentarily crushed under the weight of the blow which had struck her, had gone to seek her usual adviser, Lucien Debray. The baroness had looked forward to this marriage as a means of ridding her of a guardianship which, over a girl of Eugénie's character, could not fail to be rather a troublesome undertaking; for in the tacit relations which maintain the bond of family union, the mother, to maintain her ascendancy over her daughter, must never fail to be a model of wisdom and a type of perfection. 
Now, Madame Danglars feared Eugénie's sagacity and the influence of Mademoiselle d'Armilly; she had frequently observed the contemptuous expression with which her daughter looked upon Debray,--an expression which seemed to imply that she understood all her mother's amorous and pecuniary relationships with the intimate secretary; moreover, she saw that Eugénie detested Debray,--not only because he was a source of dissension and scandal under the paternal roof, but because she had at once classed him in that catalogue of bipeds whom Plato endeavors to withdraw from the appellation of men, and whom Diogenes designated as animals upon two legs without feathers. 
Unfortunately, in this world of ours, each person views things through a certain medium, and so is prevented from seeing in the same light as others, and Madame Danglars, therefore, very much regretted that the marriage of Eugénie had not taken place, not only because the match was good, and likely to insure the happiness of her child, but because it would also set her at liberty. She ran therefore to Debray, who, after having like the rest of Paris witnessed the contract scene and the scandal attending it, had retired in haste to his club, where he was chatting with some friends upon the events which served as a subject of conversation for three-fourths of that city known as the capital of the world. 
At the precise time when Madame Danglars, dressed in black and concealed in a long veil, was ascending the stairs leading to Debray's apartments,--notwithstanding the assurances of the concièrge that the young man was not at home,--Debray was occupied in repelling the insinuations of a friend, who tried to persuade him that after the terrible scene which had just taken place he ought, as a friend of the family, to marry Mademoiselle Danglars and her two millions. Debray did not defend himself very warmly, for the idea had sometimes crossed his mind; still, when he recollected the independent, proud spirit of Eugénie, he positively rejected it as utterly impossible, though the same thought again continually recurred and found a resting-place in his heart. Tea, play, and the conversation, which had become interesting during the discussion of such serious affairs, lasted till one o'clock in the morning. 
Meanwhile Madame Danglars, veiled and uneasy, awaited the return of Debray in the little green room, seated between two baskets of flowers, which she had that morning sent, and which, it must be confessed, Debray had himself arranged and watered with so much care that his absence was half excused in the eyes of the poor woman. 
At twenty minutes of twelve, Madame Danglars, tired of waiting, returned home. Women of a certain grade are like prosperous grisettes in one respect, they seldom return home after twelve o'clock. The baroness returned to the hotel with as much caution as Eugénie used in leaving it; she ran lightly up-stairs, and with an aching heart entered her apartment, contiguous, as we know, to that of Eugénie. She was fearful of exciting any remark, and believed firmly in her daughter's innocence and fidelity to the paternal roof. She listened at Eugénie's door, and hearing no sound tried to enter, but the bolts were in place. Madame Danglars then concluded that the young girl had been overcome with the terrible excitement of the evening, and had gone to bed and to sleep. She called the maid and questioned her. 
"Mademoiselle Eugénie," said the maid, "retired to her apartment with Mademoiselle d'Armilly; they then took tea together, after which they desired me to leave, saying that they needed me no longer." Since then the maid had been below, and like every one else she thought the young ladies were in their own room; Madame Danglars, therefore, went to bed without a shadow of suspicion, and began to muse over the recent events. In proportion as her memory became clearer, the occurrences of the evening were revealed in their true light; what she had taken for confusion was a tumult; what she had regarded as something distressing, was in reality a disgrace. And then the baroness remembered that she had felt no pity for poor Mercédès, who had been afflicted with as severe a blow through her husband and son. 
"Eugénie," she said to herself, "is lost, and so are we. The affair, as it will be reported, will cover us with shame; for in a society such as ours satire inflicts a painful and incurable wound. How fortunate that Eugénie is possessed of that strange character which has so often made me tremble!" And her glance was turned towards heaven, where a mysterious providence disposes all things, and out of a fault, nay, even a vice, sometimes produces a blessing. And then her thoughts, cleaving through space like a bird in the air, rested on Cavalcanti. This Andrea was a wretch, a robber, an assassin, and yet his manners showed the effects of a sort of education, if not a complete one; he had been presented to the world with the appearance of an immense fortune, supported by an honorable name. How could she extricate herself from this labyrinth? To whom would she apply to help her out of this painful situation? Debray, to whom she had run, with the first instinct of a woman towards the man she loves, and who yet betrays her,--Debray could but give her advice, she must apply to some one more powerful than he. 
The baroness then thought of M. de Villefort. It was M. de Villefort who had remorselessly brought misfortune into her family, as though they had been strangers. But, no; on reflection, the procureur was not a merciless man; and it was not the magistrate, slave to his duties, but the friend, the loyal friend, who roughly but firmly cut into the very core of the corruption; it was not the executioner, but the surgeon, who wished to withdraw the honor of Danglars from ignominious association with the disgraced young man they had presented to the world as their son-in-law. And since Villefort, the friend of Danglars, had acted in this way, no one could suppose that he had been previously acquainted with, or had lent himself to, any of Andrea's intrigues. Villefort's conduct, therefore, upon reflection, appeared to the baroness as if shaped for their mutual advantage. But the inflexibility of the procureur should stop there; she would see him the next day, and if she could not make him fail in his duties as a magistrate, she would, at least, obtain all the indulgence he could allow. She would invoke the past, recall old recollections; she would supplicate him by the remembrance of guilty, yet happy days. M. de Villefort would stifle the affair; he had only to turn his eyes on one side, and allow Andrea to fly, and follow up the crime under that shadow of guilt called contempt of court. And after this reasoning she slept easily. 
At nine o'clock next morning she arose, and without ringing for her maid or giving the least sign of her activity, she dressed herself in the same simple style as on the previous night; then running down-stairs, she left the hotel. walked to the Rue de Provence, called a cab, and drove to M. de Villefort's house. For the last month this wretched house had presented the gloomy appearance of a lazaretto infected with the plague. Some of the apartments were closed within and without; the shutters were only opened to admit a minute's air, showing the scared face of a footman, and immediately afterwards the window would be closed, like a gravestone falling on a sepulchre, and the neighbors would say to each other in a low voice, "Will there be another funeral to-day at the procureur's house?" Madame Danglars involuntarily shuddered at the desolate aspect of the mansion; descending from the cab, she approached the door with trembling knees, and rang the bell. Three times did the bell ring with a dull, heavy sound, seeming to participate, in the general sadness, before the concièrge appeared and peeped through the door, which he opened just wide enough to allow his words to be heard. He saw a lady, a fashionable, elegantly dressed lady, and yet the door remained almost closed. 
"Do you intend opening the door?" said the baroness. 
"First, madame, who are you?" 
"Who am I? You know me well enough." 
"We no longer know any one, madame." 
"You must be mad, my friend," said the baroness. 
"Where do you come from?" 
"Oh, this is too much!" 
"Madame, these are my orders; excuse me. Your name?" 
"The baroness Danglars; you have seen me twenty times." 
"Possibly, madame. And now, what do you want?" 
"Oh, how extraordinary! I shall complain to M. de Villefort of the impertinence of his servants." 
"Madame, this is precaution, not impertinence; no one enters here without an order from M. d'Avrigny, or without speaking to the procureur." 
"Well, I have business with the procureur." 
"Is it pressing business?" 
"You can imagine so, since I have not even brought my carriage out yet. But enough of this--here is my card, take it to your master." 
"Madame will await my return?" 
"Yes; go." The concièrge closed the door, leaving Madame Danglars in the street. She had not long to wait; directly afterwards the door was opened wide enough to admit her, and when she had passed through, it was again shut. Without losing sight of her for an instant, the concièrge took a whistle from his pocket as soon as they entered the court, and blew it. The valet de chambre appeared on the door-steps. "You will excuse this poor fellow, madame," he said, as he preceded the baroness, "but his orders are precise, and M. de Villefort begged me to tell you that he could not act otherwise." 
In the court showing his merchandise, was a tradesman who had been admitted with the same precautions. The baroness ascended the steps; she felt herself strongly infected with the sadness which seemed to magnify her own, and still guided by the valet de chambre, who never lost sight of her for an instant, she was introduced to the magistrate's study. Preoccupied as Madame Danglars had been with the object of her visit, the treatment she had received from these underlings appeared to her so insulting, that she began by complaining of it. But Villefort, raising his head, bowed down by grief, looked up at her with so sad a smile that her complaints died upon her lips. "Forgive my servants," he said, "for a terror I cannot blame them for; from being suspected they have become suspicious." 
Madame Danglars had often heard of the terror to which the magistrate alluded, but without the evidence of her own eyesight she could never have believed that the sentiment had been carried so far. "You too, then, are unhappy?" she said. "Yes, madame," replied the magistrate. 
"Then you pity me!" 
"Sincerely, madame." 
"And you understand what brings me here?" 
"You wish to speak to me about the circumstance which has just happened?" 
"Yes, sir,--a fearful misfortune." 
"You mean a mischance." 
"A mischance?" repeated the baroness. 
"Alas, madame," said the procureur with his imperturbable calmness of manner, "I consider those alone misfortunes which are irreparable." 
"And do you suppose this will be forgotten?" 
"Everything will be forgotten, madame," said Villefort. "Your daughter will be married to-morrow, if not to-day--in a week, if not to-morrow; and I do not think you can regret the intended husband of your daughter." 
Madame Danglars gazed on Villefort, stupefied to find him so almost insultingly calm. "Am I come to a friend?" she asked in a tone full of mournful dignity. "You know that you are, madame," said Villefort, whose pale cheeks became slightly flushed as he gave her the assurance. And truly this assurance carried him back to different events from those now occupying the baroness and him. "Well, then, be more affectionate, my dear Villefort," said the baroness. "Speak to me not as a magistrate, but as a friend; and when I am in bitter anguish of spirit, do not tell me that I ought to be gay." Villefort bowed. "When I hear misfortunes named, madame," he said, "I have within the last few mouths contracted the bad habit of thinking of my own, and then I cannot help drawing up an egotistical parallel in my mind. That is the reason that by the side of my misfortunes yours appear to me mere mischances; that is why my dreadful position makes yours appear enviable. But this annoys you; let us change the subject. You were saying, madame"-- 
"I came to ask you, my friend," said the baroness, "what will be done with this impostor?" 
"Impostor," repeated Villefort; "certainly, madame, you appear to extenuate some cases, and exaggerate others. Impostor, indeed!--M. Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather M. Benedetto, is nothing more nor less than an assassin!" 
"Sir, I do not deny the justice of your correction, but the more severely you arm yourself against that unfortunate man, the more deeply will you strike our family. Come, forget him for a moment, and instead of pursuing him let him go." 
"You are too late, madame; the orders are issued." 
"Well, should he be arrested--do they think they will arrest him?" 
"I hope so." 
"If they should arrest him (I know that sometimes prisoners afford means of escape), will you leave him in prison?"--The procureur shook his head. "At least keep him there till my daughter be married." 
"Impossible, madame; justice has its formalities." 
"What, even for me?" said the baroness, half jesting, half in earnest. "For all, even for myself among the rest," replied Villefort. 
"Ah," exclaimed the baroness, without expressing the ideas which the exclamation betrayed. Villefort looked at her with that piercing glance which reads the secrets of the heart. "Yes, I know what you mean," he said; "you refer to the terrible rumors spread abroad in the world, that the deaths which have kept me in mourning for the last three months, and from which Valentine has only escaped by a miracle, have not happened by natural means." 
"I was not thinking of that," replied Madame Danglars quickly. "Yes, you were thinking of it, and with justice. You could not help thinking of it, and saying to yourself, 'you, who pursue crime so vindictively, answer now, why are there unpunished crimes in your dwelling?'" The baroness became pale. "You were saying this, were you not?" 
"Well, I own it." 
"I will answer you." 
Villefort drew his armchair nearer to Madame Danglars; then resting both hands upon his desk he said in a voice more hollow than usual: "There are crimes which remain unpunished because the criminals are unknown, and we might strike the innocent instead of the guilty; but when the culprits are discovered" (Villefort here extended his hand toward a large crucifix placed opposite to his desk)--"when they are discovered, I swear to you, by all I hold most sacred, that whoever they may be they shall die. Now, after the oath I have just taken, and which I will keep, madame, dare you ask for mercy for that wretch!" 
"But, sir, are you sure he is as guilty as they say?" 
"Listen; this is his description: 'Benedetto, condemned, at the age of sixteen, for five years to the galleys for forgery.' He promised well, as you see--first a runaway, then an assassin." 
"And who is this wretch?" 
"Who can tell?--a vagabond, a Corsican." 
"Has no one owned him?" 
"No one; his parents are unknown." 
"But who was the man who brought him from Lucca?" 
"Another rascal like himself, perhaps his accomplice." The baroness clasped her hands. "Villefort," she exclaimed in her softest and most captivating manner. 
"For heaven's sake, madame," said Villefort, with a firmness of expression not altogether free from harshness--"for heaven's sake, do not ask pardon of me for a guilty wretch! What am I?--the law. Has the law any eyes to witness your grief? Has the law ears to be melted by your sweet voice? Has the law a memory for all those soft recollections you endeavor to recall? No, madame; the law has commanded, and when it commands it strikes. You will tell me that I am a living being, and not a code--a man, and not a volume. Look at me, madame--look around me. Have mankind treated me as a brother? Have they loved me? Have they spared me? Has any one shown the mercy towards me that you now ask at my hands? No, madame, they struck me, always struck me! 
"Woman, siren that you are, do you persist in fixing on me that fascinating eye, which reminds me that I ought to blush? Well, be it so; let me blush for the faults you know, and perhaps--perhaps for even more than those! But having sinned myself,--it may be more deeply than others,--I never rest till I have torn the disguises from my fellow-creatures, and found out their weaknesses. I have always found them; and more,--I repeat it with joy, with triumph,--I have always found some proof of human perversity or error. Every criminal I condemn seems to me living evidence that I am not a hideous exception to the rest. Alas, alas, alas; all the world is wicked; let us therefore strike at wickedness!" 
Villefort pronounced these last words with a feverish rage, which gave a ferocious eloquence to his words. 
"But"' said Madame Danglars, resolving to make a last effort, "this young man, though a murderer, is an orphan, abandoned by everybody." 
"So much the worse, or rather, so much the better; it has been so ordained that he may have none to weep his fate." 
"But this is trampling on the weak, sir." 
"The weakness of a murderer!" 
"His dishonor reflects upon us." 
"Is not death in my house?" 
"Oh, sir," exclaimed the baroness, "you are without pity for others, well, then, I tell you they will have no mercy on you!" 
"Be it so!" said Villefort, raising his arms to heaven. 
"At least, delay the trial till the next assizes; we shall then have six months before us." 
"No, madame," said Villefort; "instructions have been given, There are yet five days left; five days are more than I require. Do you not think that I also long for forgetfulness? While working night and day, I sometimes lose all recollection of the past, and then I experience the same sort of happiness I can imagine the dead feel; still, it is better than suffering." 
"But, sir, he has fled; let him escape--inaction is a pardonable offence." 
"I tell you it is too late; early this morning the telegraph was employed, and at this very minute"-- 
"Sir," said the valet de chambre, entering the room, "a dragoon has brought this despatch from the minister of the interior." Villefort seized the letter, and hastily broke the seal. Madame Danglars trembled with fear; Villefort started with joy. "Arrested!" he exclaimed; "he was taken at Compiègne, and all is over." Madame Danglars rose from her seat, pale and cold. "Adieu, sir," she said. "Adieu, madame," replied the king's attorney, as in an almost joyful manner he conducted her to the door. Then, turning to his desk, he said, striking the letter with the back of his right hand, "Come, I had a forgery, three robberies, and two cases of arson, I only wanted a murder, and here it is. It will be a splendid session!"  
我们已看到腾格拉尔小姐和亚密莱小姐怎样从容不迫地完成她们的改装和逃亡的；因为当时每一个人都忙于他或她自己的事情，无暇去顾及别人。我们且让那位银行家面对着倒闭的幽灵，带着流满汗珠的脸去处理那些代表他的债务的巨额数字，而来跟踪男爵夫人。男爵夫人那时似乎已被她所受的那个打击所打倒了，不久她便去找她的老顾问吕西安·德布雷去了。她原来指望这桩婚事可以使她摆脱监护的责任，因为对于一个个性象欧热妮这样的一位姑娘，她的监护工作让人感到很头疼的；而且，要维持一个家庭的融洽，家庭里必须要有默契的谅解，一个母亲必师继续不断地在智慧和品德方面做一个典范，才会被她的女儿喜欢，但腾格拉尔夫人却害怕欧热妮的明察和亚密莱小姐给她女儿出的点子。她常常觉察到她的女儿带着鄙夷的目光看德布雷，——那种目光似乎表明她知道她的母亲与那位部长的私人秘书之间种种神秘的暧昧关系和金钱关系。但男爵夫人如果能再作敏锐和深刻的分析，她就会知道：事实正巧相反，欧热妮所以厌恶德布雷，决不是因为他是引起她父母失和与家庭流言的，而只是因为她象柏拉图一样，把他归类为一种无羽毛的两脚动物。 
可惜的是，在这个世界里，每一个人都用自己的尺度去衡量事物，因为他们无法与旁人得到同样的见解；而从腾格拉尔夫人的观点上讲，她非常遗憾欧热妮的婚变，不但是因为那是一对好姻缘，看起来可以使她的孩子幸福，而且也因为这件婚姻可以使她得到自由。所以她赶快到德布雷寓所去。 
但德布雷，象其他的巴黎人一样，在目击了那幕签约场上和那幕场面上所发生的丑事以后，早已赶回到他的俱乐部里，在那儿和几个人闲谈那件大事；在这个号称世界京都的城市里，这件事情已成了大部分人士闲谈的话题。当腾格拉尔夫人穿着黑衣服，戴着长面纱，不管德布雷的跟班再三声明他的主人不在家，仍径自走上楼梯，向德布雷的房间走去，德布雷正忙着在反驳一位朋友的建议；那位朋友劝他，在发生了刚才那可怕的一切以后，作为那个家庭的朋友，应该把腾格拉尔小姐和她的两百万娶过来。德布雷为自己辩护时的神情，象是一个极力想使自己被对方说服的人一样，因为那个念头常常在他的脑子里出现；但想起欧热妮那种傲慢不逊的性格，他便又采取了完全抗拒的态度，声称那件婚事从各方面看都是不可能的，但自己仍在偷偷地转那个坏念头，这一切，据所有的道德专家说，甚至最可敬和头脑最纯洁的人也是难免的，因为那种坏念头藏在他灵魂的深处，象魔鬼撒旦藏在十字架后面一样。喝茶、玩牌以及在讨论那件事情时愈来愈有趣的谈话，一直延续到早晨一点钟。 
这会儿，腾格拉尔夫人戴着面纱，焦急地等在那绿色的小房间里，等候德布雷归来。她坐在两瓶鲜花之间，这些花是她早晨派人送来的，而我们必须承认，德布雷非常小心地亲自给花加水和插瓶，所以在那个可怜的女人看来，他的不在已得到了原谅。到十一点四十分，她终于等得不耐烦了，回家去了。某一阶层的女人有一点上很象那些正在谈恋爱的轻佻的女工，——她们极少在十二点钟以后回家。男爵夫人回到那座大厦去的时候，象欧热妮离开那座大厦时那样的小心；她轻轻地走到楼上，带着一颗痛楚的心走进她的房间。那个房间，我们知道，是在欧热妮的隔壁。她是那样害怕引起流言，从心底里坚信——可怜的女人，至少在那一点上，她是值得尊敬的——她女儿的无辜和她对家庭的一往情深，她在欧热妮的门口听了一会；然后，听到没有声音，她想进去，但门从里面闩住了的。腾格拉尔夫人认为晚上那场可怕的刺激已把她搞得精疲力尽，她已上床睡觉了。她把婢女叫来。 
“欧热妮小姐，”那婢女答道，“和亚密莱小姐一同回到她的房间里。她们一同用茶，然后就吩咐我离开，说她们再没有事要我做了。” 
从那时起，那个婢女就在楼下，同每一个人一样，她以为那两位小姐现在正在她们自己的房间里。所以腾格拉尔夫人毫不怀疑地上床；虽然躺在床上，她的脑子却依旧在想事情。随着思绪愈来愈清晰，签订婚约时发生的那件事情也就愈来愈大了。这不仅是一件丑闻。而且是一件轰动全城的大事。这已经不仅是一种羞辱，而且是一场声名扫地的侮辱。然后，男爵夫人又想起：当可怜的美塞苔丝因她的丈夫和儿子受到同样的严重的打击时，她并没有对她表示同情。 
“欧热妮，”她对她自己说，“她是完了，但是我们也完了。这件事情一旦传扬出去，我们将羞于见人，因为在我们这样的社会里，别人的嘲笑会造成不可医治的痛苦和创伤。幸而上帝赋与欧热妮那种常常使我感到可怕的奇怪的性格！”于是她充满感激的目光望着天空，那儿，神秘的上帝早就安排好了一切，即使你有了一次过错，不，甚至做了一件罪恶，有时也能得到祝福。然后，她那飘忽不定的思想，又落到卡瓦尔康蒂身上。“那个安德烈是一个坏蛋、一个强盗、一个凶手，可是从他的神态上看，他曾受过相当好的教育，虽然或许他所受的教育并不完全。从外表上看，他似乎有庞大的财产，是名门贵族的子弟。” 
她怎样才能摆脱让人无法忍受的困境？她该向谁去求援，帮助她脱离这个痛苦的境地呢？她曾带着一个女人求助于她所爱的男子的那种冲动去见德布雷，但德布雷只能给她一些忠告；她必须向一个比他更坚强的救援。男爵夫人于是想到维尔福先生。使她的家庭遭受这次不幸的，是维尔福呀。可是，不，仔细想一想，那位检察官不是一个无情无义的人。那位忠于他的职责的法官，那位忠心的朋友，粗鲁而坚决地在溃疡的地方割了一刀；他不是刽子手，而是外科医生，他是要保全腾格拉尔的名誉，割断那种妨碍他声誊的关系，免得那个罪犯做他们的女婿。腾格拉尔的朋友维尔福既然这样做，便谁都不会怀疑那位银行家曾经知道或帮助安德烈的任何阴谋。所以，仔细一想，男爵夫人觉得维尔福的举动似乎是以他们利益为出发点的。但检察官的铁面无私也应该到此为止了；她明天去见他，假如她不能使他放弃法官的职责，她至少可以要求尽量从宽办理。她将用陈旧的回忆，使他想起那些有罪的但却是甜蜜的日子来答应她的恳求。维尔福先生搁下这宗案子，或者至少他将把他的警戒转移到另一个方向，让安德烈逃走，事后以一张通缉令了案。想到这些以后，她安然入睡了。 
第二天早晨九点钟，她起床以后，并不按铃唤她的婢女，也不让人知道她的来去，只是穿上昨天夜晚那套简单的服装，然后跑下楼梯，离开大厦，走到普罗旺斯路，叫了一辆出租马车，来到了维尔福先生的家里。最近一个月来，这座遭天诅咒的府邸始终呈现着阴郁的外表，象是一家收容着瘟疫病人的传染病院一样。有些房间的门关得紧紧的，只是偶然开一下百叶窗，透一道气。或许你可以看到在窗口露出一个仆人的惊惶的脸孔，但那扇窗立刻又关拢了，象是一块墓碑关闭了一座坟墓一样；邻居们相互窃窃私语说：“莫非我们今天又会看见一辆运棺材的车子离开检察官的家吗？” 
腾格拉尔夫人一看到那座房子凄凉的外表，便情不自禁地打了一个寒颤。她从那辆出租马车上走下来，浑身颤抖地走近大门，拉了门铃。门铃发出一种迟钝重浊的声音，象是它也已经感受到抑郁的气氛似的。她接连拉了三次门铃，门房才出来开门，但他只把门开了一条缝，刚刚够说话声从中通过。他看见一位太太，一位高雅时髦的太太，可是那扇门却依旧裂开条缝。 
“你不预备开门吗？”男爵夫人说。 
“夫人，首先得问您是谁？” 
“我是谁？应该知道的很清楚。” 
“我们现在谁也不认识了，夫人。” 
“我看您一定疯了，我的朋友。”男爵夫人说。 
“您从哪儿来的？” 
“噢！这太过份了！” 
“夫人，我是遵命办事。请您原谅——请通报您的名字？” 
“腾格拉尔男爵夫人，你见过我二十次啦。” 
“可能吧，夫人。请问，你有什么事？” 
“噢，瞧您真奇怪！我要告诉维尔福先生，他的手下人也太放肆了。” 
“夫人，这不是放肆，也不是无礼，除非有阿夫里尼先生的命令，或有事跟检察官商量，否则都不能进门。” 
“好吧！我是有事跟检察官商量。” 
“是要紧的事情吗？” 
“你自己想想吧，不然我现在早就又回到我的马车里去啦。够了，这是我的名片。拿它去通报你的主人吧。” 
“夫人等我回来吗？” 
“是的，去吧。” 
那门房关上门，让腾格拉尔夫人站在街上。她并没有等多久；一会儿，门便开了一条较大的缝让她进去，她进去以后便又关上门。门房一面用眼睛看她，一面从口袋里摸出一只哨子，他们一进前院，他便吹起哨子来。仆人们应声在门廊下出现。 
“请夫人原谅这位正直的人，”他一面说，一面给男爵夫人引路，“他接受过严格的命令，维尔福先生也让我转告夫人，他这种做法实在是出于不得已。” 
前院里有一个供货商人，他也是经过同样的手续才进来的，现在有人正在检查他带的货物，男爵夫人走上台阶，她觉得自己强烈地感染到周围这种惨淡气氛；她跟那仆人到达了法官的书房里。腾格拉尔夫人一心想着这次访问的目的，但这些人们对她的态度是这样的不恭敬，她开始抱怨起来；然而当维尔福抬起他那被悲哀压低的头，带着那样一个惨淡的微笑望着她，她那到嘴边的怨气又压了下去。“请原谅我的仆人这种惊惶失措的样子，”他说，“他们因为受到猜疑，所以就特别多疑了。” 
腾格拉尔夫人常常在社交场中听人说到法官家里的恐怖气氛，但在她不曾亲眼目睹以前，她无论如何也不能相信那种恐怖气氛竟然达到了这样的地步。“这么说，您也不快乐吗？”她说。 
“是的，夫人。”法官回答。 
“那么您是同情我的？” 
“由衷地同情，夫人。” 
“那您知道我是为什么到这儿来了吗？” 
“您希望跟我谈一谈您所遇到的可怕事情，不是吗？” 
“是的，阁下，那是一场可怕的灾难！” 
“应该说那是不幸。” 
“不幸！”男爵夫人喊道。 
“唉！夫人，”检察官镇定地说，“我认为只有无法挽回的事情才是灾难。” 
“您以为这件事情能被人遗忘吗？” 
“任何事情都可能被人遗忘，夫人，”维尔福说，“令爱不久又会结婚的，不是今天，就是明天，——不是明天，反正就在一星期之内。我想您不会为令爱失去未婚夫表示遗憾吧。” 
腾格拉尔夫人望着维尔福，她觉得这种态度是对她的侮辱。“谁说我见到了一位朋友？”她气愤地反问道。 
“是的，夫人。”维尔福说，当他说这话的时候，他那苍白的脸红了一红。他刚才的话使他想起自己与男爵夫人过去的事情。 
“嗯，那么热情一点吧，亲爱的维尔福，”男爵夫人说。 
“不要用法官的态度对我说话，用一位朋友的态度说话，当我痛苦的时候，不要对我说我应该快乐。” 
维尔福鞠了一躬。“最近几个月我染上了一种坏习惯，”他说，“每当我听到有人提到灾难的时候，我便想起我自己，我便情不自禁地要作出一个对比。我觉得，以我的灾难来比较，您的只是一件不幸。与我的境况相比，您的境况还是令人羡慕的。我知道这使您很不高兴，让我们换一个话题吧。你刚才说，夫人——” 
“我是来问您，我的朋友，”男爵夫人说，“您打算怎么处置这个骗子？” 
“骗子！”维尔福重复道，“夫人，您看来是把某些事情轻描淡写而又把某些事情夸大其辞了。骗子！安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生，说得更准确些，贝尼代托先生，是一个不折不扣的暗杀犯。” 
“阁下，我不否认您的改正更确切，但您对那个家伙处置得愈严厉，我的家庭蒙受的损失就愈厉害。啊，暂时忘掉他吧，不要去追捕他，让他逃走吧。” 
“您来晚了，夫人，通辑令已经发出了。” 
“哦，要是抓住了他？——您认为他们能抓到他吗？” 
“我希望能够。” 
“假如他们抓到了他，我知道监狱里有逃走的机会，您肯让他关在监狱里吗？” 
检察官摇摇头。 
“至少把他关到我女儿结婚以后再说吧。” 
“不行，夫人，法院要按司法程序办事。” 
“什么！甚至对我也不行！”男爵夫人半开玩笑半认真地反问。 
“对所有的人都一样，甚至包括我在内。”维尔福答道。 
“啊！”男爵夫人轻轻喊了一声，但并没有表示她是失望还是什么别的意思。 
维尔福望着她。极力想看透男爵夫人的心思“是了，我知道您想说什么，”他说，“您指的是外界散布的那些可怕的流言蜚语，三个月来我家里的那些人不明不白死去，还有瓦朗蒂娜奇迹般地幸免于难。” 
“我没有想到那个。”腾格拉尔夫人急忙回答。 
“不，您想了，夫人，您这样想也无可厚非，您不能不那样想，您也许在心里说：‘你既然这样铁面无私地办理罪案，为什么有的罪犯却逍遥法外？’”男爵夫人的脸色发白。“您是这么想的，不是吗，夫人？” 
“嗯，我承认我的确是这么想的”。 
“让我来回答您吧。”维尔福把他的圈椅向腾格拉尔夫人的椅子挪过一些；然后，他两手支在桌子上，用一种比往常更暗哑的声音说，“是有犯罪未受惩罚，这是因为我还不知道罪犯是谁，我怕会错罚了无辜的人，一旦罪犯被发现，”说到这里，维尔福把他的手伸向他桌子对面的一个十字架，“一旦他们被发现，我面对上帝发誓，夫人，不论他们是谁，都得去死！现在，夫人，您要求我宽恕那个坏蛋吗？” 
“但是，阁下，您能确定他是象别人所说的那样罪行严重吗？” 
“听着，这儿是他的档案：‘贝尼代托，十六岁时因伪造钞票罪被判处苦役五年。后来，您看，——最初是越狱逃跑，然后又杀人。” 
“这个可怜虫是谁？” 
“谁知道？一个流浪汉，一个科西嘉人。” 
“没有亲属来认他吗？” 
“没有人认他，没有人知道他的父母是谁。” 
“把他从卢卡带来的那个人是谁呢？” 
“他一样是个流氓，也许就是他的同谋。” 
男爵夫人双手合拢。“维尔福！”她用最温柔最甜蜜的音调叫道。 
“算了吧，夫人，”维尔福用一种坚定得近乎于冷酷的声音回答道，——“算了吧，别再为一个罪犯向我求情了！我是什么人？我就是法律。法律可能有眼睛来看您的愁容吗？法律可能有耳朵来听您那甜蜜的声音吗？法律能回忆您竭力唤醒的那些柔情蜜意的往事吗？不，夫人，法律只知道命令，而当命令发出的时候，那就是无情的打击。您会告诉我，说我是一个有生命的人，不是一部法典，——是一个人，不是一部书。看看我，夫人，看看我的周围。人类象兄弟般待我吗？他们爱我吗？他们宽容过我吗？可有任何人曾以您现在向我要求的那种仁爱来对待我吗？不，夫人，他们打击我，只有无情的打击我！您用那种迷人的眼光盯着我，使我惭愧？就让我惭愧吧，为您所知道的我的过失——甚至其他更多的过失。尽管我自己也有罪，尽管我的罪也许比旁人更深重，但我却永不停止地去撕破我的伪装，找出他们的弱点。我始终在揭发他们，我可以进一步说，——当我发现那些人类的弱点或邪恶的证据时，我感到高兴，感到胜利，因为我每次判处一个犯人，我就似乎得到了一个活的证据，证明我不是比别人更坏些。唉，唉，唉！整个世界都充满邪恶。所以让我们来打击邪恶吧！”维尔福说最后这几句话的时候狂怒万分，以使他的话听来非常雄辩有力。 
“但是，”腾格拉尔夫人说，她决心要做一次最后的努力，“这个青年人虽然是一个杀人犯，但他却是一个被人遗弃的孤儿呀。” 
“那就更糟，或是，说得更贴切些，那就更妙，这是上帝的安排，这样就不会有谁为了他哭泣。” 
“但这是蹂躏弱者的行为呀，阁下。” 
“杀人的弱者！” 
“他的坏名声会影响我的家庭。” 
“死亡不也在影响我的家庭吗？” 
“噢，阁下，”男爵夫人喊道，“您对旁人毫无怜悯心！嗯，那末，我告诉您，旁人也不会怜悯您的！” 
“让它去吧！”维尔福把双手举向天空说。 
“至少，拖延到下一次大审的时候再审判他吧，还有六个月的时间可以冲淡人们的记忆。” 
“不，夫人，”维尔福说，“预审准备已经做好了。现在还有五天时间，其实五天已超过我的要求。您不知道我也是在盼着冲淡记忆吗？当我夜以继日地工作的时候，我便忘记了一切的往事，那时我体验到死者所感到的那种快乐，它比痛苦总还是要好一点。” 
“但是，阁下，他已逃走了，让他逃走吧，——行动不利是一个可以原谅的过失。” 
“我告诉您那已经太迟了，今天一早就用急报发出通辑令，这个时候——” 
“老爷，”跟班走进房间里来说，“内政部的一个龙骑兵送来了这封信。” 
维尔福抢过那封信，心急地拆开它。腾格拉尔夫人吓得直打哆嗦。维尔福则高兴地跳起来。“捉住了！”他喊道。“在贡比涅捉住他了。成功了！” 
腾格拉尔夫人脸色苍白，浑身冰冷地站起身来。“告辞了，阁下！”她说。 
“再会，夫人！”检察官一面回答，一面愉快送她出门。然后，他回到桌子前面，用右手拍着那封信说：“妙，我已经有了一件伪造钞票案，三件抢劫案和两件纵火案。我只缺一件谋杀案，现在它来了。这次开庭一定会大获成功。” 
Chapter 100 The Apparition
 AS THE PROCUREUR had told Madame Danglars, Valentine was not yet recovered. Bowed down with fatigue, she was indeed confined to her bed; and it was in her own room, and from the lips of Madame de Villefort, that she heard all the strange events we have related,--we mean the flight of Eugénie and the arrest of Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather Benedetto, together with the accusation of murder pronounced against him. But Valentine was so weak that this recital scarcely produced the same effect it would have done had she been in her usual state of health. Indeed, her brain was only the seat of vague ideas, and confused forms, mingled with strange fancies, alone presented themselves before her eyes. 
During the daytime Valentine's perceptions remained tolerably clear, owing to the constant presence of M. Noirtier, who caused himself to be carried to his granddaughter's room, and watched her with his paternal tenderness; Villefort also, on his return from the law courts, frequently passed an hour or two with his father and child. At six o'clock Villefort retired to his study, at eight M. d'Avrigny himself arrived, bringing the night draught prepared for the young girl, and then M. Noirtier was carried away. A nurse of the doctor's choice succeeded them, and never left till about ten or eleven o'clock, when Valentine was asleep. As she went down-stairs she gave the keys of Valentine's room to M. de Villefort, so that no one could reach the sick-room excepting through that of Madame de Villefort and little Edward. 
Every morning Morrel called on Noirtier to receive news of Valentine, and, extraordinary as it seemed, each day found him less uneasy. Certainly, though Valentine still labored under dreadful nervous excitement, she was better; and moreover, Monte Cristo had told him when, half distracted, he had rushed to the count's house, that if she were not dead in two hours she would be saved. Now four days had elapsed, and Valentine still lived. 
The nervous excitement of which we speak pursued Valentine even in her sleep, or rather in that state of somnolence which succeeded her waking hours; it was then, in the silence of night, in the dim light shed from the alabaster lamp on the chimney-piece, that she saw the shadows pass and repass which hover over the bed of sickness, and fan the fever with their trembling wings. First she fancied she saw her stepmother threatening her, then Morrel stretched his arms towards her; sometimes mere strangers, like the Count of Monte Cristo came to visit her; even the very furniture, in these moments of delirium, seemed to move, and this state lasted till about three o'clock in the morning, when a deep, heavy slumber overcame the young girl, from which she did not awake till daylight. On the evening of the day on which Valentine had learned of the flight of Eugénie and the arrest of Benedetto,--Villefort having retired as well as Noirtier and d'Avrigny,--her thoughts wandered in a confused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation and the events she had just heard. 
Eleven o'clock had struck. The nurse, having placed the beverage prepared by the doctor within reach of the patient, and locked the door, was listening with terror to the comments of the servants in the kitchen, and storing her memory with all the horrible stories which had for some months past amused the occupants of the ante-chambers in the house of the king's attorney. Meanwhile an unexpected scene was passing in the room which had been so carefully locked. Ten minutes had elapsed since the nurse had left; Valentine, who for the last hour had been suffering from the fever which returned nightly, incapable of controlling her ideas, was forced to yield to the excitement which exhausted itself in producing and reproducing a succession and recurrence of the same fancies and images. The night-lamp threw out countless rays, each resolving itself into some strange form to her disordered imagination, when suddenly by its flickering light Valentine thought she saw the door of her library, which was in the recess by the chimney-piece, open slowly, though she in vain listened for the sound of the hinges on which it turned. 
At any other time Valentine would have seized the silken bell-pull and summoned assistance, but nothing astonished her in her present situation. Her reason told her that all the visions she beheld were but the children of her imagination, and the conviction was strengthened by the fact that in the morning no traces remained of the nocturnal phantoms, who disappeared with the coming of daylight. From behind the door a human figure appeared, but the girl was too familiar with such apparitions to be alarmed, and therefore only stared, hoping to recognize Morrel. The figure advanced towards the bed and appeared to listen with profound attention. At this moment a ray of light glanced across the face of the midnight visitor. 
"It is not he," she murmured, and waited, in the assurance that this was but a dream, for the man to disappear or assume some other form. Still, she felt her pulse, and finding it throb violently she remembered that the best method of dispelling such illusions was to drink, for a draught of the beverage prepared by the doctor to allay her fever seemed to cause a reaction of the brain, and for a short time she suffered less. Valentine therefore reached her hand towards the glass, but as soon as her trembling arm left the bed the apparition advanced more quickly towards her, and approached the young girl so closely that she fancied she heard his breath, and felt the pressure of his hand. 
This time the illusion, or rather the reality, surpassed anything Valentine had before experienced; she began to believe herself really alive and awake, and the belief that her reason was this time not deceived made her shudder. The pressure she felt was evidently intended to arrest her arm, and she slowly withdrew it. Then the figure, from whom she could not detach her eyes, and who appeared more protecting than menacing, took the glass, and walking towards the night-light held it up, as if to test its transparency. This did not seem sufficient; the man, or rather the ghost--for he trod so softly that no sound was heard--then poured out about a spoonful into the glass, and drank it. Valentine witnessed this scene with a sentiment of stupefaction. Every minute she had expected that it would vanish and give place to another vision; but the man, instead of dissolving like a shadow, again approached her, and said in an agitated voice, "Now you may drink." 
Valentine shuddered. It was the first time one of these visions had ever addressed her in a living voice, and she was about to utter an exclamation. The man placed his finger on her lips. "The Count of Monte Cristo!" she murmured. 
It was easy to see that no doubt now remained in the young girl's mind as to the reality of the scene; her eyes started with terror, her hands trembled, and she rapidly drew the bedclothes closer to her. Still, the presence of Monte Cristo at such an hour, his mysterious, fanciful, and extraordinary entrance into her room through the wall, might well seem impossibilities to her shattered reason. "Do not call any one--do not be alarmed," said the Count; "do not let a shade of suspicion or uneasiness remain in your breast; the man standing before you, Valentine (for this time it is no ghost), is nothing more than the tenderest father and the most respectful friend you could dream of." 
Valentine could not reply; the voice which indicated the real presence of a being in the room, alarmed her so much that she feared to utter a syllable; still the expression of her eyes seemed to inquire, "If your intentions are pure, why are you here?" The count's marvellous sagacity understood all that was passing in the young girl's mind. 
"Listen to me," he said, "or, rather, look upon me; look at my face, paler even than usual, and my eyes, red with weariness--for four days I have not closed them, for I have been constantly watching you, to protect and preserve you for Maximilian." The blood mounted rapidly to the cheeks of Valentine, for the name just announced by the count dispelled all the fear with which his presence had inspired her. "Maximilian!" she exclaimed, and so sweet did the sound appear to her, that she repeated it--"Maximilian!--has he then owned all to you?" 
"Everything. He told me your life was his, and I have promised him that you shall live." 
"You have promised him that I shall live?" 
"Yes." 
"But, sir, you spoke of vigilance and protection. Are you a doctor?" 
"Yes; the best you could have at the present time, believe me." 
"But you say you have watched?" said Valentine uneasily; "where have you been?--I have not seen you." The count extended his hand towards the library. "I was hidden behind that door," he said, "which leads into the next house, which I have rented." Valentine turned her eyes away, and, with an indignant expression of pride and modest fear, exclaimed: "Sir, I think you have been guilty of an unparalleled intrusion, and that what you call protection is more like an insult." 
"Valentine," he answered, "during my long watch over you, all I have observed has been what people visited you, what nourishment was prepared, and what beverage was served; then, when the latter appeared dangerous to me, I entered, as I have now done, and substituted, in the place of the poison, a healthful draught; which, instead of producing the death intended, caused life to circulate in your veins." 
"Poison--death!" exclaimed Valentine, half believing herself under the influence of some feverish hallucination; "what are you saying, sir?" 
"Hush, my child," said Monte Cristo, again placing his finger upon her lips, "I did say poison and death. But drink some of this;" and the count took a bottle from his pocket, containing a red liquid, of which he poured a few drops into the glass. "Drink this, and then take nothing more to-night." Valentine stretched out her hand, but scarcely had she touched the glass when she drew back in fear. Monte Cristo took the glass, drank half its contents, and then presented it to Valentine, who smiled and swallowed the rest. "Oh, yes," she exclaimed, "I recognize the flavor of my nocturnal beverage which refreshed me so much, and seemed to ease my aching brain. Thank you, sir, thank you!" 
"This is how you have lived during the last four nights, Valentine," said the count. "But, oh, how I passed that time! Oh, the wretched hours I have endured--the torture to which I have submitted when I saw the deadly poison poured into your glass, and how I trembled lest you should drink it before I could find time to throw it away!" 
"Sir," said Valentine, at the height of her terror, "you say you endured tortures when you saw the deadly poison poured into my glass; but if you saw this, you must also have seen the person who poured it?" 
"Yes." Valentine raised herself in bed, and drew over her chest, which appeared whiter than snow, the embroidered cambric, still moist with the cold dews of delirium, to which were now added those of terror. "You saw the person?" repeated the young girl. "Yes," repeated the count. 
"What you tell me is horrible, sir. You wish to make me believe something too dreadful. What?--attempt to murder me in my father's house, in my room, on my bed of sickness? Oh, leave me, sir; you are tempting me--you make me doubt the goodness of providence--it is impossible, it cannot be!" 
"Are you the first that this hand has stricken? Have you not seen M. de Saint-Méran, Madame de Saint-Méran, Barrois, all fall? would not M. Noirtier also have fallen a victim, had not the treatment he has been pursuing for the last three years neutralized the effects of the poison?" 
"Oh, heaven," said Valentine; "is this the reason why grandpapa has made me share all his beverages during the last month?" 
"And have they all tasted of a slightly bitter flavor, like that of dried orange-peel?" 
"Oh, yes, yes!" 
"Then that explains all," said Monte Cristo. "Your grandfather knows, then, that a poisoner lives here; perhaps he even suspects the person. He has been fortifying you, his beloved child, against the fatal effects of the poison, which has failed because your system was already impregnated with it. But even this would have availed little against a more deadly medium of death employed four days ago, which is generally but too fatal." 
"But who, then, is this assassin, this murderer?" 
"Let me also ask you a question. Have you never seen any one enter your room at night?" 
"Oh, yes; I have frequently seen shadows pass close to me, approach, and disappear; but I took them for visions raised by my feverish imagination, and indeed when you entered I thought I was under the influence of delirium." 
"Then you do not know who it is that attempts your life?" 
"No," said Valentine; "who could desire my death?" 
"You shall know it now, then," said Monte Cristo, listening. 
"How do you mean?" said Valentine, looking anxiously around. 
"Because you are not feverish or delirious to-night, but thoroughly awake; midnight is striking, which is the hour murderers choose." 
"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, wiping off the drops which ran down her forehead. Midnight struck slowly and sadly; every hour seemed to strike with leaden weight upon the heart of the poor girl. "Valentine," said the count, "summon up all your courage; still the beatings of your heart; do not let a sound escape you, and feign to be asleep; then you will see." Valentine seized the count's hand. "I think I hear a noise," she said; "leave me." 
"Good-by, for the present," replied the count, walking upon tiptoe towards the library door, and smiling with an expression so sad and paternal that the young girl's heart was filled with gratitude. Before closing the door he turned around once more, and said, "Not a movement--not a word; let them think you asleep, or perhaps you may be killed before I have the power of helping you." And with this fearful injunction the count disappeared through the door, which noiselessly closed after him.  
正如检察官告诉腾格拉尔夫人的，瓦朗蒂娜还未复原。她疲惫虚弱，对她来说躺在床上跟坐牢没什么两样。可是，从维尔福夫人的口里，她听到了前面所说的种种怪事，——欧热妮的出走，安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂（或说得准确些，贝尼代托）的被捕，以及他的被指控犯了谋杀罪。瓦朗蒂娜是这样的虚弱，听到这些事情并没有在她的身上产生她在健康状况正常时同样的效果。的确，她的脑子里出现的只是一些空洞的念头；她的眼前是一些混乱的形象和奇怪的幻景。在白天，瓦朗蒂娜的神智还相当清醒，诺瓦梯埃叫人把他搬到他孙女儿的房间里来，经常陪伴着她，象慈父般地对待她。维尔福从法院回来以后，也常常来和他的父亲和女儿消磨一两个钟头。六点钟，维尔福回到他的书斋里；八点钟，阿夫里尼先生，亲自把瓦朗蒂娜夜里服用的药水拿来，诺瓦梯埃先生才被带走。一个由医生选定的护士，一直守候到十点钟或十一点钟，直到瓦朗蒂娜睡熟以后才离开。当她离开时，把瓦朗蒂娜的房门钥匙交给维尔福先生。这样，除了经过维尔福夫人和爱德华的房间，便谁都无法到达病房了。莫雷尔每天早晨来拜访诺瓦梯埃，来打听瓦朗蒂娜的消息，奇怪的是，他看上去一天比一天安心了。首先，瓦朗蒂娜虽然依旧处于极度的亢奋状态，但她已天天好转；其次，当他在半昏迷状态中冲到基督山家里去的时候，伯爵告诉他，假如她两小时内不死，就可以得救？现在，四天过去了，而瓦朗蒂娜依旧还活着。 
瓦朗蒂娜睡着的时候——更准确地说是在她醒来后的那种半醒半睡状态中——她仍然处于亢奋状态；那时，夜深人静，壁炉架上那盏乳白色灯罩射出了昏暗的光线，在这寂静和昏暗中，她看见那些影子在病床上空一一走过，用它们颤抖的翅膀煽动寒热。首先，她好象看见她的继母来威胁她，然而，莫雷尔张着两臂向她迎上来；有的时候，象基督山伯爵这样生客也会来拜望她；在这种迷糊状态中，连家具都会移动。这种状态一直持续到凌晨三点钟左右，那时，一阵深沉的睡意征服了那青年姑娘，于是她一直睡到早晨才醒来。 
在瓦朗蒂娜知道欧热妮出走和贝尼代托被捕的那天晚上，维尔福和阿夫里尼出去以后，她的思想纷歧迷乱地彷徨着，她时而想想她自己的处境，时而想想她刚才听到的那些事情。当十一点已敲过时。护士把医生所准备的饮料放在她伸手就能拿到的地方，锁上房门，在厨房里吓得浑身哆嗦，一些可怕的故事印在她的记忆里；那些故事，在最近三个月来是检察官家里谈话的主题。 
这时，在那间这样小心地锁住病人的房间里，发生了一件意想不到的事情。护士离开已六十分钟了；那每夜必来的寒冷袭击瓦朗蒂娜又快一个小时了，她无法控制自己的意志，那些幻景和虚象，那盏孤灯射出无数的光线，每一条光线都在她那混乱的幻想变成某种奇特的形状，突然地，在那摇动的灯光下，瓦朗蒂娜好象看见壁炉旁边凹进去的那扇通她书房的门慢慢地开了，但她却听不到门链转动的声音。平时瓦朗蒂娜会抓住悬在床头的丝带，拉铃叫人，但现在，什么都不会让她吃惊。她的理智告诉她，她所见的一切都只是自己的幻觉。她确信：一到早晨，夜间所见的一切便会消失地无影无踪，它们会随着曙光的出现而消失。门后面出现了一个人影，她看惯了这种幻象，所以并不害怕，只是睁大眼睛希望能认出是莫雷尔。那个人影继续向床边走过来。她象在仔细谛听。这时，一道灯光映在那个午夜访客的脸上。 
“不是他！”她喃喃地说，于是她想着这个幻觉会象往常一样消失或改变成另外一个人，可是，她能感觉到自己的脉搏，而且能感到它跳得很厉害，她记得驱散这种幻象的最好的良法是喝一口药水，那种用来减轻她发烧的饮料可以刺激她的脑子，使她暂时减少一些痛苦。所以瓦朗蒂娜就伸手去拿那只玻璃杯，但她的手臂刚伸出床外，那幻觉中的人影就急步向她走过来，而且跟她离得这样近，甚至可以听到他的呼吸，感觉到他的手的压力。这一次，这种幻景不同于瓦朗蒂娜以前所经验的一切；她开始相信自己的神志是完全清醒的，她不由得打了一个寒颤。她手上感到的那一按，显然不想让她把手伸出去，她慢慢地把手缩回来。她目不转睛地望着那个人影；那个人影看来对她没有任何恶意，倒像是来保护她的，他拿起那只玻璃杯，凑到灯光旁边，举起杯子看了一下里面的液体，这还不够，那个人，——更确切地说，那个幽灵。因为他的脚步是这样的轻，根本听不到声音，—— 
从玻璃杯里倒出一匙羹来，喝了下去。瓦朗蒂娜茫然地望着眼前这一切。她以为眼前这一切会突然消失，出现另一幅图景；但这个人不但没有消失，反而走到她的前面，用一种诚恳的声音说：“现在，喝吧！” 
瓦朗蒂娜浑身哆嗦起来。这是她第一次听到幻象用一个活人的声音对她说话，她张嘴要喊。那个人用手指掩住了她的嘴唇。“基督山伯爵！”她喃喃地说。 
瓦朗蒂娜对于这一切的真实性显然不再有丝毫怀疑；她的眼睛里流露出惊恐的神气后，抖得几乎不能拉毯子裹紧身体。基督山在这时出现，而且是透过墙壁走进她的房间，对神志恍惚的瓦朗蒂娜来说，更是难以置信。 
“别喊，也不要怕，”伯爵说，“即使在心里也别疑惑或不安。瓦朗蒂娜，站在你面前的是个人，不是幻景，是你所能想象到的最慈爱的父亲和最可敬的朋友。” 
瓦朗蒂娜不知该如何。这种声音证明向她说话的是个实实在在的人，她惊惶万状，一个字都讲不出来；她眼睛里的表情似乎在问，“既然你是光明磊落的，现在怎么会在这儿呢？” 
聪明的伯爵完全明白青年女郎脑子里在想什么。“听我说，”他说，“或者不如说看看我吧，看看我苍白的脸，看看我这因疲倦而发红的眼睛。这一对眼睛已经整整四天不曾合拢了，在这四天夜里我一直守在你身边，为马西米兰保护你的安全。” 
瓦朗蒂娜感到脸颊因兴奋而红晕；伯爵刚才提到了马西米兰这个名字驱散了她因为基督山的出现所引起的全部恐惧。“马西米兰！”她重复道，她觉得这个名字对她来说多么亲切啊？” 
——“马西米兰！那么他把一切都告诉你了吗？” 
“是的，她告诉了我一切。他说，你的生命就是他的生命，我答应他你会活下去。” 
“你答应过他我会活下去？” 
“是的。” 
“但是，阁下，你刚才说到守夜和保护，那么，你是一位医生吗？” 
“是的，而且是上天此刻能派来照顾你的最好的医生，相信我吧。” 
“你说你一直守护着我？”瓦朗蒂娜不安地说，“你以前在哪儿呢？我没有看见你呀。” 
伯爵伸手指着书房。“我躲在那扇门后面，”他说，“那个房间与隔壁的房子相连，我已经租下那座房子。” 
瓦朗蒂娜把眼光移开，带着骄傲的冲动和轻微的恐惧喊道：“阁下，你擅自闯入人家是有罪的，你所说的保护倒象是一种侮辱。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，”他答道，“我虽然一直在守护着你，但我所注意的是看你的人、你吃的食物、用的饮料，当我觉得那种饮料似乎对你有危险的时候，我就进来，象现在这样进来，用饮料代替那杯毒药，我的饮料不会产生旁人所预期的死亡，而且可以使生命在你的血管里循环不息。” 
“毒药！死！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，她以为自己又在发高热，产生了错觉，“你说什么，阁下？” 
“嘘，我的孩子！”基督山说着用手指掩住她的嘴唇。“我是说了‘毒药’和‘死’。喝一点吧。”伯爵从口袋里摸出一只瓶子，把瓶子里红色的液体倒几滴到玻璃杯里。“喝了这个，今天晚上不要再喝别的东西。” 
瓦朗蒂娜伸去拿杯子；但她的手刚碰到那只杯子，便因害怕而缩回来。基督山端起那只杯子，自己喝掉一半，然后把它递给瓦朗蒂娜。瓦朗蒂娜微笑了一下，把剩下的一半喝了下去。 
“噢，是的！”她喊道，“我尝得出这种味道，这几天晚上都是喝的这个，它使我的神智清醒。似乎减轻了头痛。谢谢你，阁下，谢谢你！” 
“这就是你活着的原因，瓦朗蒂娜，”伯爵说。“可我，我是如何活的？噢，我熬过了多少痛苦难耐的时间呵！当我看见那致命的毒药倒进你的杯子里，当我浑身颤抖地想，万一我来不及把它倒掉就被你喝下去的时候，我忍受是怎样的痛苦呀！” 
“阁下，”瓦朗蒂娜恐怖地说，“当你看见那致命的毒药倒进我的杯子的时候我感到非常痛苦，如果你看见了这种情形，想必你也看见那个倒毒药的人了？” 
“是的。” 
瓦朗蒂娜撑起身来，用绣花被掩住她那雪白的胸膛，胸膛发烧时所出的冷汗，现在又加上了冷汗。“你看见那个人了？”那青年女郎再问一遍。 
“是的！”伯爵又说。 
“你告诉了我一件可怕的事情，阁下。那件事情是太可怕了。什么！想在我父亲家里——在我的房间里——在我的床上——想害死我？噢，请出去吧，阁下！你在蛊惑我！你亵渎了神灵！这是不可能的，不会有这种事的。” 
“你是这只手要打击的第一个人吗？你没看见圣·梅朗先生，圣·梅朗夫人，巴罗斯都倒了下去吗？如果诺瓦梯埃先生在最近这三年来不继续服药，中和了那毒药的效力，他不是也已成了一个牺牲者了吗？” 
“噢，天哪！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“最近几个月来，爷爷要我喝他的药水，就是为了那个理由吗？” 
“那些药水是不是带一点儿苦味，象干皮那种味道？” 
“噢，天哪，是的！” 
“那么一切都清楚了，“基督山说。“他也知有一个人在下毒，——或许他还知道那个人是谁。他在帮助你，帮助他心爱的孩子抵抗毒药，由于你已开始有那种习惯，所以毒药丧失了一部分效力。你在四天以前中了致死的毒药，能活到现在就是因为喝这种药水的缘故，我现在总算明白了。” 
“那么下毒药的凶手是谁呢？” 
“你从来没看见有人在晚上走进你的房间吗？” 
“噢，有的！我每天晚上都看见人影经过我的身边，走进来，然后又消失了，我认为那是我发烧时所见的幻象，真的，当你进来的时候，我还以为自己又神志不清或是在做梦。” 
“那你不知道是谁要谋害你，是吗？” 
“不，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“谁会希望我死呢？” 
“那么，你马上就可以知道了。”基督山说，并侧耳倾听。 
“你是什么意思？”瓦朗蒂娜说，惊恐地向四周望去。 
“你今天晚上并没有发烧，你现在神志是完全清醒的，午夜的钟声已经在敲了，那凶手就要出现了。” 
“噢，天！”瓦朗蒂娜一面说，一面擦着额头上的汗珠。 
午夜的钟声迟缓而抑郁地敲打着；那铜锤的每一击似乎都敲打着那青年女郎的心。 
“瓦朗蒂娜，”伯爵说，“用你全部的力量控制住自己。不要发出一点声音，假装睡着，那么你就可以看见了。” 
瓦朗蒂娜抓住伯爵的手。“我好象听到有声音，”她说，“您快离开吧！”她说。 
“呆会儿见，”伯爵回答，就蹑手蹑脚向书房门口走过去，看着他脸上带着的微笑，瓦朗蒂娜的心里充满了感激。在关门以前，他又回过头来说：“不要动，不要出声，让他们以为你睡着了，否则，也许我还来不及帮你，你就被杀死了。”说完了这个可怕的叮嘱以后，伯爵便消失在门后了，门随即悄悄地关上了。
Chapter 101 Locusta
 VALENTINE was alone; two other clocks, slower than that of Saint-Philippe du Roule, struck the hour of midnight from different directions, and excepting the rumbling of a few carriages all was silent. Then Valentine's attention was engrossed by the clock in her room, which marked the seconds. She began counting them, remarking that they were much slower than the beatings of her heart; and still she doubted,--the inoffensive Valentine could not imagine that any one should desire her death. Why should they? To what end? What had she done to excite the malice of an enemy? There was no fear of her falling asleep. One terrible idea pressed upon her mind,--that some one existed in the world who had attempted to assassinate her, and who was about to endeavor to do so again. Supposing this person, wearied at the inefficacy of the poison, should, as Monte Cristo intimated, have recourse to steel!--What if the count should have no time to run to her rescue!--What if her last moments were approaching, and she should never again see Morrel! When this terrible chain of ideas presented itself, Valentine was nearly persuaded to ring the bell, and call for help. But through the door she fancied she saw the luminous eye of the count--that eye which lived in her memory, and the recollection overwhelmed her with so much shame that she asked herself whether any amount of gratitude could ever repay his adventurous and devoted friendship. 
Twenty minutes, twenty tedious minutes, passed thus, then ten more, and at last the clock struck the half-flour. Just then the sound of finger-nails slightly grating against the door of the library informed Valentine that the count was still watching, and recommended her to do the same; at the same time, on the opposite side, that is towards Edward's room, Valentine fancied that she heard the creaking of the floor; she listened attentively, holding her breath till she was nearly suffocated; the lock turned, and the door slowly opened. Valentine had raised herself upon her elbow, and had scarcely time to throw herself down on the bed and shade her eyes with her arm; then, trembling, agitated, and her heart beating with indescribable terror, she awaited the event. 
Some one approached the bed and drew back the curtains. Valentine summoned every effort, and breathed with that regular respiration which announces tranquil sleep. "Valentine!" said a low voice. Still silent: Valentine had promised not to awake. Then everything was still, excepting that Valentine heard the almost noiseless sound of some liquid being poured into the glass she had just emptied. Then she ventured to open her eyelids, and glance over her extended arm. She saw a woman in a white dressing-gown pouring a liquor from a phial into her glass. During this short time Valentine must have held her breath, or moved in some slight degree, for the woman, disturbed, stopped and leaned over the bed, in order the better to ascertain whether Valentine slept--it was Madame de Villefort. 
On recognizing her step-mother, Valentine could not repress a shudder, which caused a vibration in the bed. Madame de Villefort instantly stepped back close to the wall, and there, shaded by the bed-curtains, she silently and attentively watched the slightest movement of Valentine. The latter recollected the terrible caution of Monte Cristo; she fancied that the hand not holding the phial clasped a long sharp knife. Then collecting all her remaining strength, she forced herself to close her eyes; but this simple operation upon the most delicate organs of our frame, generally so easy to accomplish, became almost impossible at this moment, so much did curiosity struggle to retain the eyelid open and learn the truth. Madame de Villefort, however, reassured by the silence, which was alone disturbed by the regular breathing of Valentine, again extended her hand, and half hidden by the curtains succeeded in emptying the contents of the phial into the glass. Then she retired so gently that Valentine did not know she had left the room. She only witnessed the withdrawal of the arm--the fair round arm of a woman but twenty-five years old, and who yet spread death around her. 
It is impossible to describe the sensations experienced by Valentine during the minute and a half Madame de Villefort remained in the room. The grating against the library-door aroused the young girl from the stupor in which she was plunged, and which almost amounted to insensibility. She raised her head with an effort. The noiseless door again turned on its hinges, and the Count of Monte Cristo reappeared. "Well," said he, "do you still doubt?" 
"Oh," murmured the young girl. 
"Have you seen?" 
"Alas!" 
"Did you recognize?" Valentine groaned. "Oh, yes;" she said, "I saw, but I cannot believe!" 
"Would you rather die, then, and cause Maximilian's death?" 
"Oh," repeated the young girl, almost bewildered, "can I not leave the house?--can I not escape?" 
"Valentine, the hand which now threatens you will pursue you everywhere; your servants will be seduced with gold, and death will be offered to you disguised in every shape. You will find it in the water you drink from the spring, in the fruit you pluck from the tree." 
"But did you not say that my kind grandfather's precaution had neutralized the poison?" 
"Yes, but not against a strong dose; the poison will be changed, and the quantity increased." He took the glass and raised it to his lips. "It is already done," he said; "brucine is no longer employed, but a simple narcotic! I can recognize the flavor of the alcohol in which it has been dissolved. If you had taken what Madame de Villefort has poured into your glass, Valentine--Valentine--you would have been doomed!" 
"But," exclaimed the young girl, "why am I thus pursued?" 
"Why?--are you so kind--so good--so unsuspicious of ill, that you cannot understand, Valentine?" 
"No, I have never injured her." 
"But you are rich, Valentine; you have 200,000 livres a year, and you prevent her son from enjoying these 200,000 livres." 
"How so? The fortune is not her gift, but is inherited from my relations." 
"Certainly; and that is why M. and Madame de Saint-Méran have died; that is why M. Noirtier was sentenced the day he made you his heir; that is why you, in your turn, are to die--it is because your father would inherit your property, and your brother, his only son, succeed to his." 
"Edward? Poor child! Are all these crimes committed on his account?" 
"Ah, then you at length understand?" 
"Heaven grant that this may not be visited upon him!" 
"Valentine, you are an angel!" 
"But why is my grandfather allowed to live?" 
"It was considered, that you dead, the fortune would naturally revert to your brother, unless he were disinherited; and besides, the crime appearing useless, it would be folly to commit it." 
"And is it possible that this frightful combination of crimes has been invented by a woman?" 
"Do you recollect in the arbor of the H?tel des Postes, at Perugia, seeing a man in a brown cloak, whom your stepmother was questioning upon aqua tofana? Well, ever since then, the infernal project has been ripening in her brain." 
"Ah, then, indeed, sir," said the sweet girl, bathed in tears, "I see that I am condemned to die!" 
"No, Valentine, for I have foreseen all their plots; no, your enemy is conquered since we know her, and you will live, Valentine--live to be happy yourself, and to confer happiness upon a noble heart; but to insure this you must rely on me." 
"Command me, sir--what am I to do?" 
"You must blindly take what I give you." 
"Alas, were it only for my own sake, I should prefer to die!" 
"You must not confide in any one--not even in your father." 
"My father is not engaged in this fearful plot, is he, sir?" asked Valentine, clasping her hands. 
"No; and yet your father, a man accustomed to judicial accusations, ought to have known that all these deaths have not happened naturally; it is he who should have watched over you--he should have occupied my place--he should have emptied that glass--he should have risen against the assassin. Spectre against spectre!" he murmured in a low voice, as he concluded his sentence. 
"Sir," said Valentine, "I will do all I can to live. for there are two beings whose existence depends upon mine--my grandfather and Maximilian." 
"I will watch over them as I have over you." 
"Well, sir, do as you will with me;" and then she added, in a low voice, "oh, heavens, what will befall me?" 
"Whatever may happen, Valentine, do not be alarmed; though you suffer; though you lose sight, hearing, consciousness, fear nothing; though you should awake and be ignorant where you are, still do not fear; even though you should find yourself in a sepulchral vault or coffin. Reassure yourself, then, and say to yourself: 'At this moment, a friend, a father, who lives for my happiness and that of Maximilian, watches over me!'" 
"Alas, alas, what a fearful extremity!" 
"Valentine, would you rather denounce your stepmother?" 
"I would rather die a hundred times--oh, yes, die!" 
"No, you will not die; but will you promise me, whatever happens, that you will not complain, but hope?" 
"I will think of Maximilian!" 
"You are my own darling child, Valentine! I alone can save you, and I will." Valentine in the extremity of her terror joined her hands,--for she felt that the moment had arrived to ask for courage,--and began to pray, and while uttering little more than incoherent words, she forgot that her white shoulders had no other covering than her long hair, and that the pulsations of her heart could he seen through the lace of her nightdress. Monte Cristo gently laid his hand on the young girl's arm, drew the velvet coverlet close to her throat, and said with a paternal smile,--"My child, believe in my devotion to you as you believe in the goodness of providence and the love of Maximilian." 
Then he drew from his waistcoat-pocket the little emerald box, raised the golden lid, and took from it a pastille about the size of a pea, which he placed in her hand. She took it, and looked attentively on the count; there was an expression on the face of her intrepid protector which commanded her veneration. She evidently interrogated him by her look. "Yes," said he. Valentine carried the pastille to her mouth, and swallowed it. "And now, my dear child, adieu for the present. I will try and gain a little sleep, for you are saved." 
"Go," said Valentine, "whatever happens, I promise you not to fear." 
Monte Cristo for some time kept his eyes fixed on the young girl, who gradually fell asleep, yielding to the effects of the narcotic the count had given her. Then he took the glass, emptied three parts of the contents in the fireplace, that it might be supposed Valentine had taken it, and replaced it on the table; then he disappeared, after throwing a farewell glance on Valentine, who slept with the confidence and innocence of an angel.  
瓦朗蒂娜房间里只剩一个人了。两只比圣·罗尔教堂略慢的钟在远处敲出了午夜的钟声；而后，除了偶尔有马车驶过的声音外，四周一片寂静。瓦朗蒂娜一直注意着她房间里的那只时钟。那只钟是有秒针的，她开始数秒针的走动，她发现秒针的摆动比自己的心跳要慢得多。可是她不禁疑惑；从不伤害别人的瓦朗蒂娜，谁会希望她死。为什么希望她死呢？ 
出于什么目的呢？她做了什么事情惹下了这样一个仇敌？她当然睡不着。一个可怕的念头在她的脑子里盘旋——就是，有一个人企图来谋杀她，而那个人又要来了。如果这个人对毒药失去信心，象基督山所说的那样干脆用刀子，那可怎么办呢！如果伯爵来不及来救她，那可怎么办呢？如果她就要接近生命尽头，假如她永远也见不到莫雷尔，那怎么办呢！想到这儿，瓦朗蒂娜吓得脸色苍白，直出冷汗，几乎要拉铃求援了。但她好象在门背后看到了伯爵发亮的眼光，——这双眼睛已印在她的记忆里，想到他，她便感到那样的羞愧，不禁默默地自问，如果她冒冒失失地作了傻事，如何报答对伯爵的感激之情呢？二十分钟，极长的二十分钟，便这样过去了，然后又过去了十分钟，时钟终于敲打半点了。这时，书房门上传来轻微的指甲敲打声通知瓦朗蒂娜，告诉她伯爵仍在警惕着，并通知她同样警惕。果然，在对面，也就是在爱德华的房间那面，瓦朗蒂娜似乎听到了地板上有震动的声音，她侧起耳朵，屏住呼吸，憋得几乎要透不过气来了；门柄转动了，门被慢慢地拉开来了。瓦朗蒂娜本来是用手支起身子的，这时急忙倒到床上，把一条手臂遮在眼睛上；然后她惊慌战栗地等待着，她的心被一种难以形容的恐怖揪着。 
有一个人走到床前。拉开帐子。瓦朗蒂娜竭力控制住自己，发出均匀的呼吸，好象睡得很平稳。“瓦朗蒂娜！”一个声音轻轻地说。姑娘心底打了一个寒颤，但没有作声。“瓦朗蒂娜！”那个声音重复说。依然是寂静；瓦朗蒂娜拿打定主意决不醒来。随后一切归于寂静，但瓦朗蒂娜听到一种轻微的几乎听不到的声音，那是液体倒入她刚喝空的玻璃杯子的声音，她壮着胆子睁开眼睛，从手臂底下望过去。她看见一个穿白睡衣的女人把一只瓶子里的液体倒入杯子里。在这一瞬间，瓦朗蒂娜也许呼吸急促了些，动弹一下，因为那个女人不安地停住手，朝病床俯下身来，确认瓦朗蒂娜是否睡着了。 
那是维尔福夫人！ 
瓦朗蒂娜认出继母后，禁不住打了一个寒颤，连她的床也震动了一下。维尔福夫人立即闪身退到墙边，隔着帐子，警觉地留心瓦朗蒂娜最轻微的动作。瓦朗蒂娜想起了基督山那可怕的叮嘱；她看到那只不握瓶子的手里握着一把又长又尖的刀子在闪闪发光，她聚集起全部的力量，拼命想合上眼睛；但这个简单的动作在平时固然非常容易完成，这时却变得几乎不可能了，强烈的好奇心在驱使她张开眼睛看到底是怎么回事。听瓦朗蒂娜呼吸均匀，周围一片寂静，维尔福夫人便放心地重新从帐子后面伸出手，继续把瓶子里的东西倒到杯子里。然后她悄无声息地退了出去，瓦朗蒂娜也没听见她已离开房间。她只看见那只手臂缩了回去，——洁白浑圆，一个二十五岁的年轻美貌的女人的手臂，而那只手臂却在倾注着死亡。 
尽管维尔福夫人只在房间里逗留了一分来钟，在这时间里，要讲清瓦朗蒂娜体验到的感触是不可能的。书房门上的敲打声把那青年女郎从近乎麻木的痴呆状态中醒了过来。她吃力地抬起头来。那扇门又无声地打开，基督山伯爵出现了。 
“怎么样，”他说，“你还怀疑吗？” 
“噢，我的上帝！”年青的姑娘喃喃地说。 
“你看见了吗？” 
“天哪！” 
“你认清了吗？” 
瓦朗蒂娜呻吟了一声。“噢，是的！”她说，“我看见了，但我无法相信！” 
“那么，你情愿死，而且情愿马西米兰也死吗？” 
“我的上帝！我的上帝！”青年姑娘重复地叹道，她几乎要神经错乱了，“难道我不能离开这个家，我不能逃走吗？” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，那只对你下毒的手，将跟着你到任何地方，你的仆人将受金钱的笼络，死神将以各种形式降临到你身上。即使你喝泉水，吃树上摘下来的果子，都可能有危险。” 
“你不是说过，祖父的预防措施已中和了毒药的药性吗？” 
“是的，那只能应付一种毒药，毒药是可以改换的，或是增加份量。”他拿起那只杯子，用嘴唇抿了一下。“瞧，她已经这样做了，”他说，“不再用木鳖精而用那可汀了！我可以从溶解它的酒精味上辨出它的存在。如果你把维尔福夫人倒在你杯子里的东西，喝下去，那末，瓦朗蒂娜！瓦朗蒂娜呀！你已经完啦！” 
“但是，”青年女郎喊道，“她为什么要害死我呢？” 
“为什么？难道你竟这样仁慈，这样善良，这样没有防人之心，到现在还不明白吗，瓦朗蒂娜？” 
“不，我从来没有伤害过她。” 
“但是你有钱呀，瓦朗蒂娜。你每年有二十万法郎的收入，而你妨碍了她的儿子享受那二十万。” 
“怎么能这么说呢？我的财产又不是她的。那是我的外公外婆留给我的呀。” 
“当然罗，正是为了这个原因，圣·梅朗先生夫妇才会去世，正是为了这个原因，诺瓦梯埃先生在立你做他的继承人的当天就成为谋害的对象，现在轮到你死了，——这样的话，你的父亲会继承你的财产，而你的弟弟，作为独子，将从你父亲的手里继承到那笔财产。” 
“爱德华！可怜的孩子！她犯的罪都是为了他吗？” 
“啊！那么你总算明白？” 
“愿上天的报应不要落在他的身上！” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，你是一个天使！” 
“但为什么她最后不再去害祖父呢？” 
“因为你死以后，除非剥夺你弟弟的继承权，否则那笔财产自然会转移到他的手上，所以她觉得对你的祖父下毒手已没有必要了。” 
“这个可怕的计谋竟是一个女人想出来的！” 
“你记不记得在比鲁沙波士蒂旅馆的凉棚，有一个身穿棕色大衣的人，你的继母曾问他‘托弗娜毒水’？嗯，从那个时候起，那个恶毒的计划就渐渐地在她的脑子里酝酿成熟了。” 
“啊，那么，真的，阁下，”那温柔的姑娘满面泪痕地说，“那么我是注定要死的了！” 
“不，瓦朗蒂娜，我已识破了他们的阴谋，你的敌人已被识破了，我们已知道她。你可以活下去，瓦朗蒂娜，——你可以幸福地活下去，并且使一颗高贵的心得到幸福，但要得到这一切，你必须完全相信我。” 
“请吩咐吧，阁下，我该怎么做？” 
“你必须不加思索地照我所说的去做。” 
“噢！上帝为我作证，”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，“如果我只是一个人，我情愿让自己去死。” 
“你不能相信任何人，——甚至连你的父亲也不能相信。” 
“我的父亲与这个可怕的阴谋毫不相干，是吗，阁下？”瓦朗蒂娜把双手合在一起问。 
“没有，可是，你的父亲，一个在法院里办惯了起诉状的人，应该知道这些死亡不是自然发生的。本来应该是他守在你身边，应该由他站在我这个位置，应该由他来倒空那只杯子，应该由他来对付那个凶手。魔鬼对魔鬼嘛！”他低声地说了最后这一句话。 
“阁下，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我会尽力活下去，我的祖父和马西米兰。”他们深爱着我，他们的生命悬在我身上。 
“我会照顾他们，象我照顾你一样。” 
“好吧，阁下，我听你的吩咐，”她又压低声音说，“噢，天哪！我会出什么事呢？” 
“不管出什么事，瓦朗蒂娜，都不要怕，如果你醒来的时候自己不知道在什么地方，还是不要怕，——即使你发现自己躺在坟墓里或棺材里。那时你得提醒自己，‘此时此刻，一位朋友，一个父亲为我——马西米兰的幸福而活着的父亲，正在守护着我！” 
“唉！唉！多么可怕的情景呀！” 
“瓦朗蒂娜，你愿意揭发你继母的阴谋吗？” 
“我情愿死一百次，噢，是的，情愿死！” 
“不，你不会死的，你肯答应我，不管遇见什么事情形，你决不抱怨都抱有希望吗？” 
“我会想到马西米兰！” 
“你是我喜爱的好孩子，瓦朗蒂娜！只有我一个人能救你，而我一定会救出你的！” 
瓦朗蒂娜害怕之极合拢双手，她觉得这是求上帝赐她勇气的时候了，于是她开始祈祷；当她在这样断断续续地祈祷的时候，她忘记了她那雪白的肩头只有她的长头发遮盖着，忘记了可以从她睡衣的花边缝里看见她的那令人怦然心跳的胸脯。 
基督山轻轻地把手按在那青年姑娘的手臂上，把天鹅绒的毯子拉来盖到她的颈部，带着爱的笑容说：“我的孩子，相信我对你的真情，象你相信上帝的仁慈和马西米兰的爱情一样。” 
然后他从背心口袋里摸出那只翡翠小盒子，揭开金盖，从里面取出一粒豌豆般大小的药丸放在她的手里。瓦朗蒂娜拿了那粒药丸，神情专注地望着伯爵。在她这位勇敢的保护人脸上，有一种神圣庄严和权威的光芒。她的眼光向他询问。 
“是的。”他说。 
瓦朗蒂娜把药丸放进嘴里，咽了下去。 
“现在，我亲爱的孩子，暂时再会了。我要睡一会儿，因为你已经得救了。” 
“去吧，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“不论遇到什么事情，我答应你决不害怕。” 
基督山凝视着青年姑娘看了一会儿，看她在药丸作用下，渐渐入睡。然后他拿起那只杯子，把大部分液体倒在壁炉里，让人以为是瓦朗蒂娜喝掉的，再把杯子放回到桌子上；他向瓦朗蒂娜投去一个告别的眼光，瓦朗蒂娜象一个躺在上帝脚下的纯洁天使那样放心地睡着了。伯爵随即也消失了。   
Chapter 102 Valentine
 THE NIGHT-LIGHT continued to burn on the chimney-piece, exhausting the last drops of oil which floated on the surface of the water. The globe of the lamp appeared of a reddish hue, and the flame, brightening before it expired, threw out the last flickerings which in an inanimate object have been so often compared with the convulsions of a human creature in its final agonies. A dull and dismal light was shed over the bedclothes and curtains surrounding the young girl. All noise in the streets had ceased, and the silence was frightful. It was then that the door of Edward's room opened, and a head we have before noticed appeared in the glass opposite; it was Madame de Villefort, who came to witness the effects of the drink she had prepared. She stopped in the doorway, listened for a moment to the flickering of the lamp, the only sound in that deserted room, and then advanced to the table to see if Valentine's glass were empty. It was still about a quarter full, as we before stated. Madame de Villefort emptied the contents into the ashes, which she disturbed that they might the more readily absorb the liquid; then she carefully rinsed the glass, and wiping it with her handkerchief replaced it on the table. 
If any one could have looked into the room just then he would have noticed the hesitation with which Madame de Villefort approached the bed and looked fixedly on Valentine. The dim light, the profound silence, and the gloomy thoughts inspired by the hour, and still more by her own conscience, all combined to produce a sensation of fear; the poisoner was terrified at the contemplation of her own work. At length she rallied, drew aside the curtain, and leaning over the pillow gazed intently on Valentine. The young girl no longer breathed, no breath issued through the half-closed teeth; the white lips no longer quivered--the eyes were suffused with a bluish vapor, and the long black lashes rested on a cheek white as wax. Madame de Villefort gazed upon the face so expressive even in its stillness; then she ventured to raise the coverlet and press her hand upon the young girl's heart. It was cold and motionless. She only felt the pulsation in her own fingers, and withdrew her hand with a shudder. One arm was hanging out of the bed; from shoulder to elbow it was moulded after the arms of Germain Pillon's "Graces,"* but the fore-arm seemed to be slightly distorted by convulsion, and the hand, so delicately formed, was resting with stiff outstretched fingers on the framework of the bed. The nails, too, were turning blue. 
* Germain Pillon was a famous French sculptor (1535-1598). His best known work is "The Three Graces," now in the Louvre. 
Madame de Villefort had no longer any doubt; all was over--she had consummated the last terrible work she had to accomplish. There was no more to do in the room, so the poisoner retired stealthily, as though fearing to hear the sound of her own footsteps; but as she withdrew she still held aside the curtain, absorbed in the irresistible attraction always exerted by the picture of death, so long as it is merely mysterious and does not excite disgust. Just then the lamp again flickered; the noise startled Madame de Villefort, who shuddered and dropped the curtain. Immediately afterwards the light expired, and the room was plunged in frightful obscurity, while the clock at that minute struck half-past four. Overpowered with agitation, the poisoner succeeded in groping her way to the door, and reached her room in an agony of fear. 
The darkness lasted two hours longer; then by degrees a cold light crept through the Venetian blinds, until at length it revealed the objects in the room. About this time the nurse's cough was heard on the stairs and the woman entered the room with a cup in her hand. To the tender eye of a father or a lover, the first glance would have sufficed to reveal Valentine's condition; but to this hireling, Valentine only appeared to sleep. "Good," she exclaimed, approaching the table, "she has taken part of her draught; the glass is three-quarters empty." 
Then she went to the fireplace and lit the fire, and although she had just left her bed, she could not resist the temptation offered by Valentine's sleep, so she threw herself into an arm-chair to snatch a little more rest. The clock striking eight awoke her. Astonished at the prolonged slumber of the patient, and frightened to see that the arm was still hanging out of the bed, she advanced towards Valentine, and for the first time noticed the white lips. She tried to replace the arm, but it moved with a frightful rigidity which could not deceive a sick-nurse. She screamed aloud; then running to the door exclaimed,--"Help, help!" 
"What is the matter?" asked M. d'Avrigny, at the foot of the stairs, it being the hour he usually visited her. 
"What is it?" asked Villefort, rushing from his room. "Doctor, do you hear them call for help?" 
"Yes, yes; let us hasten up; it was in Valentine's room." But before the doctor and the father could reach the room, the servants who were on the same floor had entered, and seeing Valentine pale and motionless on her bed, they lifted up their hands towards heaven and stood transfixed, as though struck by lightening. "Call Madame de Villefort!--wake Madame de Villefort!" cried the procureur from the door of his chamber, which apparently he scarcely dared to leave. But instead of obeying him, the servants stood watching M. d'Avrigny, who ran to Valentine, and raised her in his arms. "What?--this one, too?" he exclaimed. "Oh, where will be the end?" Villefort rushed into the room. "What are you saying, doctor?" he exclaimed, raising his hands to heaven. 
"I say that Valentine is dead!" replied d'Avrigny, in a voice terrible in its solemn calm. 
M. de Villefort staggered and buried his head in the bed. On the exclamation of the doctor and the cry of the father, the servants all fled with muttered imprecations; they were heard running down the stairs and through the long passages, then there was a rush in the court, afterwards all was still; they had, one and all, deserted the accursed house. Just then, Madame de Villefort, in the act of slipping on her dressing-gown, threw aside the drapery and for a moment stood motionless, as though interrogating the occupants of the room, while she endeavored to call up some rebellious tears. On a sudden she stepped, or rather bounded, with outstretched arms, towards the table. She saw d'Avrigny curiously examining the glass, which she felt certain of having emptied during the night. It was now a third full, just as it was when she threw the contents into the ashes. The spectre of Valentine rising before the poisoner would have alarmed her less. It was, indeed, the same color as the draught she had poured into the glass, and which Valentine had drank; it was indeed the poison, which could not deceive M. d'Avrigny, which he now examined so closely; it was doubtless a miracle from heaven, that, notwithstanding her precautions, there should be some trace, some proof remaining to reveal the crime. While Madame de Villefort remained rooted to the spot like a statue of terror, and Villefort, with his head hidden in the bedclothes, saw nothing around him, d'Avrigny approached the window, that he might the better examine the contents of the glass, and dipping the tip of his finger in, tasted it. "Ah," he exclaimed, "it is no longer brucine that is used; let me see what it is!" 
Then he ran to one of the cupboards in Valentine's room, which had been transformed into a medicine closet, and taking from its silver case a small bottle of nitric acid, dropped a little of it into the liquor, which immediately changed to a blood-red color. "Ah," exclaimed d'Avrigny, in a voice in which the horror of a judge unveiling the truth was mingled with the delight of a student making a discovery. Madame de Villefort was overpowered, her eyes first flashed and then swam, she staggered towards the door and disappeared. Directly afterwards the distant sound of a heavy weight falling on the ground was heard, but no one paid any attention to it; the nurse was engaged in watching the chemical analysis, and Villefort was still absorbed in grief. M. d'Avrigny alone had followed Madame de Villefort with his eyes, and watched her hurried retreat. He lifted up the drapery over the entrance to Edward's room, and his eye reaching as far as Madame de Villefort's apartment, he beheld her extended lifeless on the floor. "Go to the assistance of Madame de Villefort," he said to the nurse. "Madame de Villefort is ill." 
"But Mademoiselle de Villefort "--stammered the nurse. 
"Mademoiselle de Villefort no longer requires help," said d'Avrigny, "since she is dead." 
"Dead,--dead!" groaned forth Villefort, in a paroxysm of grief, which was the more terrible from the novelty of the sensation in the iron heart of that man. 
"Dead!" repeated a third voice. "Who said Valentine was dead?" 
The two men turned round, and saw Morrel standing at the door, pale and terror-stricken. This is what had happened. At the usual time, Morrel had presented himself at the little door leading to Noirtier's room. Contrary to custom, the door was open, and having no occasion to ring he entered. He waited for a moment in the hall and called for a servant to conduct him to M. Noirtier; but no one answered, the servants having, as we know, deserted the house. Morrel had no particular reason for uneasiness; Monte Cristo had promised him that Valentine should live, and so far he had always fulfilled his word. Every night the count had given him news, which was the next morning confirmed by Noirtier. Still this extraordinary silence appeared strange to him, and he called a second and third time; still no answer. Then he determined to go up. Noirtier's room was opened, like all the rest. The first thing he saw was the old man sitting in his arm-chair in his usual place, but his eyes expressed alarm, which was confirmed by the pallor which overspread his features. 
"How are you, sir?" asked Morrel, with a sickness of heart. 
"Well," answered the old man, by closing his eyes; but his appearance manifested increasing uneasiness. 
"You are thoughtful, sir," continued Morrel; "you want something; shall I call one of the servants?" 
"Yes," replied Noirtier. 
Morrel pulled the bell, but though he nearly broke the cord no one answered. He turned towards Noirtier; the pallor and anguish expressed on his countenance momentarily increased. 
"Oh," exclaimed Morrel, "why do they not come? Is any one ill in the house?" The eyes of Noirtier seemed as though they would start from their sockets. "What is the matter? You alarm me. Valentine? Valentine?" 
"Yes, yes," signed Noirtier. Maximilian tried to speak, but he could articulate nothing; he staggered, and supported himself against the wainscot. Then he pointed to the door. 
"Yes, yes, yes!" continued the old man. Maximilian rushed up the little staircase, while Noirtier's eyes seemed to say,--"Quicker, quicker!" 
In a minute the young man darted through several rooms, till at length he reached Valentine's. There was no occasion to push the door, it was wide open. A sob was the only sound he heard. He saw as though in a mist, a black figure kneeling and buried in a confused mass of white drapery. A terrible fear transfixed him. It was then he heard a voice exclaim "Valentine is dead!" and another voice which, like an echo repeated,--"Dead,--dead!"  
壁炉架上的那盏灯依旧点燃着，但已燃尽了那浮在水面上的最后几滴油；灯被映成了淡红色，火焰在熄灭前突然明亮起来，射出最后的摇曳的光；这种光，虽然是没有生命的，却常被人用来比拟人类在临死前那一阵最后的挣扎。一缕昏暗凄惨的光笼罩着那青年姑娘身上的被罩和她周围的帐子。 
街上的一切嘈杂声都停止了，四周一片寂静。这时，通向爱德华卧室的房门打开了，在门对面的镜子里，出现了一个我们以前见过的面孔；那是维尔福夫人的面孔，她来观察那药水是否奏效。她站在门口听了一会儿，在那个房间里，现在只剩了灯花的毕剥声，她来到桌前，看瓦朗蒂娜是否已将药水喝下。杯子里还有一些药水。维尔福夫人把它倒在炉灰里，并把炉灰拌了几拌，使它更容易吸收液体；然后她仔细涮干净那只玻璃杯，用手帕抹干它，把它放回到桌子上。 
如果有人在那时把目光穿透房间，使人看到维尔福夫人带着犹豫的神色走近床边，眼睛一眨不眨地望着瓦朗蒂娜。惨淡的光线，死一般的寂静，深夜所能引起的一切可怕的东西，而尤其是她自己的良心，这一切交织在一起产生了一种可怕的夜的氛围；她害怕去看她自己的成绩。但她终于鼓起勇气，拉开帐子，俯到枕头上，瞧着瓦朗蒂娜。她已没有了呼吸；那半开半闭的牙齿间已不再有气息通过；那雪白嘴唇已停止了颤动；那一对眼睛似乎浮在浅蓝色的雾气里，又长又黑的头发散在那蜡白的脸颊上。维尔福夫人凝视着这个静止的但依旧动人的面孔；然后她壮起胆子揭开被，把手按在那青年姑娘的胸膛上。胸膛冷冰冰地没有动静。她感觉到的是自己手指上的脉搏，她颤栗地收回她的手。一只手臂垂出在床外，——那样一只美丽的手臂，自肩到至腕似乎都是由一个雕刻家雕刻出来的；但前臂似乎因为痉挛而略微有点变形，而那只精致纤细的手，则伸着僵硬的手指搁在床架上。手指甲已经发青。维尔福夫人不再怀疑——一切都已成为过去；她已经完成了她最后一件可怕的工作。 
在房间里已没有别的事情做了，下毒者偷偷地退出去，象是怕听到她自己的脚步声似的；但当她出去的时候，她依旧拉着帐子，死者的形象对她有一种不可抗拒的吸引力。 
灯花又毕剥地爆了一下；那个声音把维尔福夫人吓了一跳，她打了一个寒颤，离开帐子。灯熄灭了，整个房间陷入可怕的黑暗里，时钟那时恰巧敲打四点半。下毒者顿时惊惶起来，摸索到门口，满怀着恐惧回到她的房间。可怕的黑暗持续了两个钟头以后；一片淡白的光从百叶窗里爬进来，终于照亮了房间里一切。大约在这个时候，楼梯上响起了护士的咳嗽声，她手里拿着一只杯子走进房来。在一位父亲或一个情人，第一眼就足以决定一切，——瓦朗蒂娜已死；但在护士看来，她只象是睡着了。“好！”她走到桌子前面说，“她已经喝了一部分药水，杯子里已只剩三分之一了。” 
她走到壁炉前面生起了火，虽然她刚刚起床，但她想在瓦朗蒂娜睡醒前再打一个瞌睡。时钟敲打八点的声音惊醒了她。她惊奇她的病人竟睡得这样熟，令她吃惊的是她看见那只手臂依旧还垂在床外，她向瓦朗蒂娜走过去，这时才注意到那失血的嘴唇。她想把那只手臂放回到床上，但那只手臂僵硬的，决瞒不过一个护士。她大叫一声，然后奔到门口，喊道：“救命呀！救命呀！” 
“你嚷什么？”阿夫里尼先生在楼梯脚下问，这正是他每天来看病的时间。 
“怎么啦？”维尔福从他的房间里冲出来问。“医生，你听见她喊救命吗？” 
“是的，是的，我听见了，我们赶快上去吧！是在瓦朗蒂娜的房间里。” 
医生和那父亲还没有赶到，二楼上的仆人们已跑进瓦朗蒂娜房间，看到瓦朗蒂娜脸色苍白一动不动地躺在床上，他们一齐举手向天，象遭了雷击似地一动不动地愣在那儿。 
“去叫维尔福夫人！去喊醒维尔福夫人！”检察官站在房门口喊，似乎不敢进去。但仆人们并没有理会他的命令，全都站在那儿看着阿夫里尼先生，阿夫里尼已跑到瓦朗蒂娜的床边，然后抱起她。“什么！这一个，也！”他低声地说，让她从他的手臂里落了下去。“噢，我的上帝！我的上帝呀！您什么时候才厌倦呢？” 
维尔福冲进房间里。“您说什么，医生？”他举手向天大声问道。 
“我说瓦朗蒂娜死了！”阿夫里尼用一种庄严的声音回答。 
维尔福先生踉跄地摔倒了，把他的头埋在瓦朗蒂娜的床上。听到医生的绝叫和那父亲的哭喊，仆人们喃喃地祈祷着离开了。只听见他们脚步声奔下楼梯，穿过长廊，冲入前庭，他们都已逃离这座受天诅咒的房子。这时，维尔福夫人披着睡衣掀开门帘，在门槛上站了一会儿，象是在问房间里的人究竟发生了什么事，并竭力想流出几滴眼泪。突然，她伸着两臂向那张桌子跳了一步。她看见阿夫里尼正检查那只她确信在晚上已经倒空的杯子。杯子里还有三分之一药水，和她倒在炉灰里的一样多。即使瓦朗蒂娜的灵魂出现在那维尔福夫人的面前，她也不会感到那样害怕。药水的颜色与她倒在杯子里被瓦朗蒂娜喝掉的一模一样；这种毒药瞒不过阿夫里尼先生的眼睛。这一定是上帝创造的奇迹，尽管她非常小心，还是留下了证据来揭穿她的罪行。 
维尔福夫人象一尊恐怖女神似的钉在地上，维尔福把头埋在床上，这时阿夫里尼为了更清楚地检查杯子里的东西，走到窗前，用手指尖伸进去蘸了一滴来尝。“啊！”大声说道，“不再是木鳖精了，我来看看杯子里到底是什么！”于是他跑到瓦朗蒂娜房间里一只药橱前面，从一只银盒里取出一小瓶硝酸，滴了几滴到那液体里，液体便立刻变成血红色。“啊！” 
阿夫里尼喊道，他的声音里夹杂着喜悦（象一位法官揭破实情时的恐怖和一位学生解决了一个问题时的喜悦。）维尔福夫人再也受不了了；她的眼前最初是火花乱迸，后来变成一片漆黑；她踉踉跄跄地走向门口，然后就不见了。一会儿，门外传来身体跌倒在地板上的声音，但没有人注意它。护士正在注意化学分析，维尔福沉浸在悲哀里。只有阿夫里尼用他的目光跟随着维尔福夫人，注意到她仓皇地退出去。他拉开爱德华房门口的门帘，向维尔福夫人的房间里望，看见她晕倒在地板上。“去帮助维尔福夫人，”他对护士说，“维尔福夫人病了。” 
“但维尔福小姐——”护士犹豫地说。 
“维尔福小姐不需要帮助了，”阿夫里尼说，“因为她已经死了。” 
“死了！死了！”维尔福悲痛地喃喃道，在他那铁石一样的心里，悲痛是一种新奇的感觉，所以他的悲痛比一般人更令人心碎。 
“你说她死了吗？”忽然一个声音喊道，“谁说瓦朗蒂娜死了？” 
两个人回过头去，看见莫雷尔脸色苍白，神情激动地站在门口。事情是这样的：莫雷尔按照往常的时间来到通诺瓦梯埃先生房间的小门口。与往常不同的是，门是开着的；由于没有拉铃的必要，他就走了进去。他在厅里等了一会儿，想叫一个仆人来带他去见诺瓦梯埃先生；他喊了一声，但没有人回答，因为房子里仆人都逃走了。莫雷尔心里没有特别感到不安的理由，基督山已答应他瓦朗蒂娜不死，而直到目前为止，他始终是履行了他的诺言的。伯爵每天晚上给他消息，那些消息在第二天早晨就被诺瓦梯埃证实。可是，这种出奇的寂静使他感到很奇怪，他第二次第三次再叫人，还是没有人答应。于是他决定上楼去。诺瓦梯埃的房门也象其他的房门那样大开着。他第一眼看见的是那老人照常坐在他的圈椅里；他的眼睛睁得大大的表示着一种内心的恐惧，那种表情从他苍白的脸色上得到了证实。 
“您好吗，阁下？”莫雷尔问，心里感到了某种恐惧。 
“好！”老人闭上眼睛回答，但他的脸上却显出更大的不安。 
“您在想心事，阁下，”莫雷尔又说，“您要什么东西吧，要我去叫一个仆人吗？” 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃回答。 
莫雷尔就拉铃，虽然他几乎拉断绳带，却依旧没有人来。 
他回过头去看诺瓦梯埃；他脸色苍白，痛苦的表情与时俱增。 
“噢！”莫雷尔喊道，“为什么没有人来？这屋子里有人病了吗？” 
诺瓦梯埃的眼睛似乎要从眼眶里迸射出来。 
“出什么事啦？您吓坏我啦。瓦朗蒂娜，瓦朗蒂娜出事啦？” 
“是的，是的，。”诺瓦梯埃表示。 
马西米兰想说话，但他什么都没有说出来；他踉跄了一下，靠在壁板上。然后他抬手指一指门口。 
“是的，是的，”老人继续表示。马西米兰一步并两步冲上那座小楼梯，而诺瓦梯埃的眼睛似乎在对他喊：“快一点！再快一点！” 
一眨眼，年轻人已穿过几个房间，到达瓦朗蒂娜的房门口。门是大开着的。他听到的第一个声音是一声啜泣。他象是透过一层云雾看见一个黑色人影跪在地上，头埋在一大片白色的帐帏里。一阵可怕的恐惧使他站在那儿时，他听见一个声音：“瓦朗蒂娜已经死了！而另一个声音象回声似的重复着：“死了！死了！”  
Chapter 103 Maximilian
 VILLEFORT ROSE, half ashamed of being surprised in such a paroxysm of grief. The terrible office he had held for twenty-five years had succeeded in making him more or less than man. His glance, at first wandering, fixed itself upon Morrel. "Who are you, sir," he asked, "that forget that this is not the manner to enter a house stricken with death? Go, sir, go!" But Morrel remained motionless; he could not detach his eyes from that disordered bed, and the pale corpse of the young girl who was lying on it. "Go!--do you hear?" said Villefort, while d'Avrigny advanced to lead Morrel out. Maximilian stared for a moment at the corpse, gazed all around the room, then upon the two men; he opened his mouth to speak, but finding it impossible to give utterance to the innumerable ideas that occupied his brain, he went out, thrusting his hands through his hair in such a manner that Villefort and d'Avrigny, for a moment diverted from the engrossing topic, exchanged glances, which seemed to say,--"He is mad!" 
But in less than five minutes the staircase groaned beneath an extraordinary weight. Morrel was seen carrying, with superhuman strength, the arm-chair containing Noirtier up-stairs. When he reached the landing he placed the arm-chair on the floor and rapidly rolled it into Valentine's room. This could only have been accomplished by means of unnatural strength supplied by powerful excitement. But the most fearful spectacle was Noirtier being pushed towards the bed, his face expressing all his meaning, and his eyes supplying the want of every other faculty. That pale face and flaming glance appeared to Villefort like a frightful apparition. Each time he had been brought into contact with his father, something terrible had happened. "See what they have done!" cried Morrel, with one hand leaning on the back of the chair, and the other extended towards Valentine. "See, my father, see!" 
Villefort drew back and looked with astonishment on the young man, who, almost a stranger to him, called Noirtier his father. At this moment the whole soul of the old man seemed centred in his eyes which became bloodshot; the veins of the throat swelled; his cheeks and temples became purple, as though he was struck with epilepsy; nothing was wanting to complete this but the utterance of a cry. And the cry issued from his pores, if we may thus speak--a cry frightful in its silence. D'Avrigny rushed towards the old man and made him inhale a powerful restorative. 
"Sir," cried Morrel, seizing the moist hand of the paralytic, "they ask me who I am, and what right I have to be here. Oh, you know it, tell them, tell them!" And the young man's voice was choked by sobs. As for the old man, his chest heaved with his panting respiration. One could have thought that he was undergoing the agonies preceding death. At length, happier than the young man, who sobbed without weeping, tears glistened in the eyes of Noirtier. "Tell them," said Morrel in a hoarse voice, "tell them that I am her betrothed. Tell them she was my beloved, my noble girl, my only blessing in the world. Tell them--oh, tell them, that corpse belongs to me!" 
The young man overwhelmed by the weight of his anguish, fell heavily on his knees before the bed, which his fingers grasped with convulsive energy. D'Avrigny, unable to bear the sight of this touching emotion, turned away; and Villefort, without seeking any further explanation, and attracted towards him by the irresistible magnetism which draws us towards those who have loved the people for whom we mourn, extended his hand towards the young man. But Morrel saw nothing; he had grasped the hand of Valentine, and unable to weep vented his agony in groans as he bit the sheets. For some time nothing was heard in that chamber but sobs, exclamations, and prayers. At length Villefort, the most composed of all, spoke: "Sir," said he to Maximilian, "you say you loved Valentine, that you were betrothed to her. I knew nothing of this engagement, of this love, yet I, her father, forgive you, for I see that your grief is real and deep; and besides my own sorrow is too great for anger to find a place in my heart. But you see that the angel whom you hoped for has left this earth--she has nothing more to do with the adoration of men. Take a last farewell, sir, of her sad remains; take the hand you expected to possess once more within your own, and then separate yourself from her forever. Valentine now requires only the ministrations of the priest." 
"You are mistaken, sir," exclaimed Morrel, raising himself on one knee, his heart pierced by a more acute pang than any he had yet felt--"you are mistaken; Valentine, dying as she has, not only requires a priest, but an avenger. You, M. de Villefort, send for the priest; I will be the avenger." 
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Villefort, trembling at the new idea inspired by the delirium of Morrel. 
"I tell you, sir, that two persons exist in you; the father has mourned sufficiently, now let the procureur fulfil his office." 
The eyes of Noirtier glistened, and d'Avrigny approached. 
"Gentlemen," said Morrel, reading all that passed through the minds of the witnesses to the scene, "I know what I am saying, and you know as well as I do what I am about to say--Valentine has been assassinated!" Villefort hung his head, d'Avrigny approached nearer, and Noirtier said "Yes" with his eyes. "Now, sir," continued Morrel, "in these days no one can disappear by violent means without some inquiries being made as to the cause of her disappearance, even were she not a young, beautiful, and adorable creature like Valentine. Mr. Procureur," said Morrel with increasing vehemence, "no mercy is allowed; I denounce the crime; it is your place to seek the assassin." The young man's implacable eyes interrogated Villefort, who, on his side, glanced from Noirtier to d'Avrigny. But instead of finding sympathy in the eyes of the doctor and his father, he only saw an expression as inflexible as that of Maximilian. "Yes," indicated the old man. 
"Assuredly," said d'Avrigny. 
"Sir," said Villefort, striving to struggle against this triple force and his own emotion,--"sir, you are deceived; no one commits crimes here. I am stricken by fate. It is horrible, indeed, but no one assassinates." 
The eyes of Noirtier lighted up with rage, and d'Avrigny prepared to speak. Morrel, however, extended his arm, and commanded silence. 
"And I say that murders are committed here," said Morrel, whose voice, though lower in tone, lost none of its terrible distinctness: "I tell you that this is the fourth victim within the last four months. I tell you, Valentine's life was attempted by poison four days ago, though she escaped, owing to the precautions of M. Noirtier. I tell you that the dose has been double, the poison changed, and that this time it has succeeded. I tell you that you know these things as well as I do, since this gentleman has forewarned you, both as a doctor and as a friend." 
"Oh, you rave, sir," exclaimed Villefort, in vain endeavoring to escape the net in which he was taken. 
"I rave?" said Morrel; "well, then, I appeal to M. d'Avrigny himself. Ask him, sir, if he recollects the words he uttered in the garden of this house on the night of Madame de Saint-Méran's death. You thought yourselves alone, and talked about that tragical death, and the fatality you mentioned then is the same which has caused the murder of Valentine." Villefort and d'Avrigny exchanged looks. "Yes, yes," continued Morrel; "recall the scene, for the words you thought were only given to silence and solitude fell into my ears. Certainly, after witnessing the culpable indolence manifested by M. de Villefort towards his own relations, I ought to have denounced him to the authorities; then I should not have been an accomplice to thy death, as I now am, sweet, beloved Valentine; but the accomplice shall become the avenger. This fourth murder is apparent to all, and if thy father abandon thee, Valentine, it is I, and I swear it, that shall pursue the assassin." And this time, as though nature had at least taken compassion on the vigorous frame, nearly bursting with its own strength, the words of Morrel were stifled in his throat; his breast heaved; the tears, so long rebellious, gushed from his eyes; and he threw himself weeping on his knees by the side of the bed. 
Then d'Avrigny spoke. "And I, too," he exclaimed in a low voice, "I unite with M. Morrel in demanding justice for crime; my blood boils at the idea of having encouraged a murderer by my cowardly concession." 
"Oh, merciful heavens!" murmured Villefort. Morrel raised his head, and reading the eyes of the old man, which gleamed with unnatural lustre,--"Stay," he said, "M. Noirtier wishes to speak." 
"Yes," indicated Noirtier, with an expression the more terrible, from all his faculties being centred in his glance. 
"Do you know the assassin?" asked Morrel. 
"Yes," replied Noirtier. 
"And will you direct us?" exclaimed the young man. "Listen, M. d'Avrigny, listen!" Noirtier looked upon Morrel with one of those melancholy smiles which had so often made Valentine happy, and thus fixed his attention. Then, having riveted the eyes of his interlocutor on his own, he glanced towards the door. 
"Do you wish me to leave?" said Morrel, sadly. 
"Yes," replied Noirtier. 
"Alas, alas, sir, have pity on me!" 
The old man's eyes remained fixed on the door. 
"May I, at least, return?" asked Morrel. 
"Yes." 
"Must I leave alone?" 
"No." 
"Whom am I to take with me? The procureur?" 
"No." 
"The doctor?" 
"Yes." 
"You wish to remain alone with M. de Villefort?" 
"Yes." 
"But can he understand you?" 
"Yes." 
"Oh," said Villefort, inexpressibly delighted to think that the inquiries were to be made by him alone,--"oh, be satisfied, I can understand my father." D'Avrigny took the young man's arm, and led him out of the room. A more than deathlike silence then reigned in the house. At the end of a quarter of an hour a faltering footstep was heard, and Villefort appeared at the door of the apartment where d'Avrigny and Morrel had been staying, one absorbed in meditation, the other in grief. "You can come," he said, and led them back to Noirtier. Morrel looked attentively on Villefort. His face was livid, large drops rolled down his face, and in his fingers he held the fragments of a quill pen which he had torn to atoms. 
"Gentlemen," he said in a hoarse voice, "give me your word of honor that this horrible secret shall forever remain buried amongst ourselves!" The two men drew back. 
"I entreat you."--continued Villefort. "But," said Morrel, "the culprit--the murderer--the assassin." 
"Do not alarm yourself, sir; justice will be done," said Villefort. "My father has revealed the culprit's name; my father thirsts for revenge as much as you do, yet even he conjures you as I do to keep this secret. Do you not, father?" 
"Yes," resolutely replied Noirtier. Morrel suffered an exclamation of horror and surprise to escape him. "Oh, sir," said Villefort, arresting Maximilian by the arm, "if my father, the inflexible man, makes this request, it is because he knows, be assured, that Valentine will be terribly revenged. Is it not so, father?" The old man made a sign in the affirmative. Villefort continued: "He knows me, and I have pledged my word to him. Rest assured, gentlemen, that within three days, in a less time than justice would demand, the revenge I shall have taken for the murder of my child will be such as to make the boldest heart tremble;" and as he spoke these words he ground his teeth, and grasped the old man's senseless hand. 
"Will this promise be fulfilled, M. Noirtier?" asked Morrel, while d'Avrigny looked inquiringly. 
"Yes," replied Noirtier with an expression of sinister joy. 
"Swear, then," said Villefort, joining the hands of Morrel and d'Avrigny, "swear that you will spare the honor of my house, and leave me to avenge my child." D'Avrigny turned round and uttered a very feeble "Yes," but Morrel, disengaging his hand, rushed to the bed, and after having pressed the cold lips of Valentine with his own, hurriedly left, uttering a long, deep groan of despair and anguish. We have before stated that all the servants had fled. M. de Villefort was therefore obliged to request M. d'Avrigny to superintend all the arrangements consequent upon a death in a large city, more especially a death under such suspicious circumstances. 
It was something terrible to witness the silent agony, the mute despair of Noirtier, whose tears silently rolled down his cheeks. Villefort retired to his study, and d'Avrigny left to summon the doctor of the mayoralty, whose office it is to examine bodies after decease, and who is expressly named "the doctor of the dead." M. Noirtier could not be persuaded to quit his grandchild. At the end of a quarter of an hour M. d'Avrigny returned with his associate; they found the outer gate closed, and not a servant remaining in the house; Villefort himself was obliged to open to them. But he stopped on the landing; he had not the courage to again visit the death chamber. The two doctors, therefore, entered the room alone. Noirtier was near the bed, pale, motionless, and silent as the corpse. The district doctor approached with the indifference of a man accustomed to spend half his time amongst the dead; he then lifted the sheet which was placed over the face, and just unclosed the lips. 
"Alas," said d'Avrigny, "she is indeed dead, poor child!" 
"Yes," answered the doctor laconically, dropping the sheet he had raised. Noirtier uttered a kind of hoarse, rattling sound; the old man's eyes sparkled, and the good doctor understood that he wished to behold his child. He therefore approached the bed, and while his companion was dipping the fingers with which he had touched the lips of the corpse in chloride of lime, he uncovered the calm and pale face, which looked like that of a sleeping angel. A tear, which appeared in the old man's eye, expressed his thanks to the doctor. The doctor of the dead then laid his permit on the corner of the table, and having fulfilled his duty, was conducted out by d'Avrigny. Villefort met them at the door of his study; having in a few words thanked the district doctor, he turned to d'Avrigny, and said,--"And now the priest." 
"Is there any particular priest you wish to pray with Valentine?" asked d'Avrigny. 
"No." said Villefort; "fetch the nearest." 
"The nearest," said the district doctor, "is a good Italian abbé, who lives next door to you. Shall I call on him as I pass?" 
"D'Avrigny," said Villefort, "be so kind, I beseech you, as to accompany this gentleman. Here is the key of the door, so that you can go in and out as you please; you will bring the priest with you, and will oblige me by introducing him into my child's room." 
"Do you wish to see him?" 
"I only wish to be alone. You will excuse me, will you not? A priest can understand a father's grief." And M. de Villefort, giving the key to d'Avrigny, again bade farewell to the strange doctor, and retired to his study, where he began to work. For some temperaments work is a remedy for all afflictions. As the doctors entered the street, they saw a man in a cassock standing on the threshold of the next door. "This is the abbé of whom I spoke," said the doctor to d'Avrigny. D'Avrigny accosted the priest. "Sir," he said, "are you disposed to confer a great obligation on an unhappy father who has just lost his daughter? I mean M. de Villefort, the king's attorney." 
"Ah," said the priest, in a marked Italian accent; "yes, I have heard that death is in that house." 
"Then I need not tell you what kind of service he requires of you." 
"I was about to offer myself, sir," said the priest; "it is our mission to forestall our duties." 
"It is a young girl." 
"I know it, sir; the servants who fled from the house informed me. I also know that her name is Valentine, and I have already prayed for her." 
"Thank you, sir," said d'Avrigny; "since you have commenced your sacred office, deign to continue it. Come and watch by the dead, and all the wretched family will be grateful to you." 
"I am going, sir; and I do not hesitate to say that no prayers will be more fervent than mine." D'Avrigny took the priest's hand, and without meeting Villefort, who was engaged in his study, they reached Valentine's room, which on the following night was to be occupied by the undertakers. On entering the room, Noirtier's eyes met those of the abbé, and no doubt he read some particular expression in them, for he remained in the room. D'Avrigny recommended the attention of the priest to the living as well as to the dead, and the abbé promised to devote his prayers to Valentine and his attentions to Noirtier. In order, doubtless, that he might not be disturbed while fulfilling his sacred mission, the priest rose as soon as d'Avrigny departed, and not only bolted the door through which the doctor had just left, but also that leading to Madame de Villefort's room.  
维尔福站起身来，被人撞见他这样痛哭流涕，他感到有点难为情。二十五年的法官生涯已使他丧失了一部分人性。他的眼光最恍惚不定，最后盯在莫雷尔身上。“你是谁，阁下，” 
他问道，“你不知道一座受死神打击的房子，外人是不能这样随便进来的吗？出去，阁下，出去吧！” 
但莫雷尔依旧一动都不动；他的眼光离不开那张零乱的床和躺在床上的那个年轻姑娘惨白的面孔。 
“出去！你没听见吗？”维尔福说，阿夫里尼则走过来领莫雷尔出去。马西米兰疑惑地把那个尸体看了一会儿，然后用眼光慢慢地向房间四周扫射了一遍，最后把眼光落在那两个男人身上；他张开嘴巴想说话，虽然他的脑子里有许多排遣不开的念头，却一句话也说不出来，便双手揪住自己的头发走了出去了，他神志昏迷，使维尔福和阿夫里尼暂时记忆当前最关切的那件事情，互相交换了一个眼光，象是在说：“他疯了！” 
可是不到五分钟时间，楼梯在一种特别的重压下呻吟起来。他们看见莫雷尔以超人的力量抱住那只坐着诺瓦梯埃的圈椅，把老人抬上楼来。上楼以后，他把圈椅放到地板上，迅速地把它推进瓦朗蒂娜的房间。这一切都是在几乎疯狂的亢奋状态下完成的，那青年的气力这时好象比平时大了十倍。但最让人感到吃惊的还是诺瓦梯埃，莫雷尔推近床前，从他的脸上可以看出他心里所想的一切，他的眼睛弥补了其他各种器官的不足。他苍白的脸和那因激动而发红的眼睛在维尔福看来象是一个可怕的幽灵。每一次他与父亲接触的时候，便总要发生一件可怕的事情。 
“看他们干了些什么事！”莫雷尔一手扶着椅背，一手指着瓦朗蒂娜喊道。 
维尔福往后退了一步，惊讶地望着这个青年人，他认不出他是谁，可是他却叫诺瓦梯埃爷爷。这时，那老人的整个思想似乎都从他的眼睛里反映出来；他眼睛里充满了血丝；脖子上的血管涨了起来；他的脸和太阳穴变成了青紫色，象是他患了癔症似的。他内心极度激动，只差一声惊叫，而那声惊叫声是从他的毛孔里发出的——因此才比无声更可怕。阿夫里尼迅速向老人冲过去，给他喝了一种强烈的兴奋剂。 
“阁下！”莫雷尔抓住瘫痪老人那只潮湿的手大声道，“他们问我是谁，说我没有权利到这儿来！噢，您是知道的，请告诉他们，告诉他们吧！”那青年已经泣不成声了。 
“请告诉他们，”莫雷尔用嘶哑的声音说，——“告诉他们我是她的未婚夫。告诉他们她是我心爱的人，是这个世界上我唯一的爱人。告诉他们呀——噢！告诉他们那具尸体是属于我的！” 
那年轻人手指痉挛着，忽然力不能支似地跪倒在床前，阿夫里尼不忍再看这令人悲痛的情景，转过身去；维尔福也不忍心再要求他解释，他好象被一股不可抗拒的力量吸引着，走到年轻人身边向他伸出一只手，因为凡是爱我们所哀悼的人，总是有这股磁力的。但莫雷尔没有看见这一切；他抓住瓦朗蒂娜那只冰冷的手，他欲哭无泪，呻吟着用牙齿咬着床单。此时，只能听到房间里的啜泣声、叹息声和祈祷声。夹杂在这些声音中的是诺瓦梯埃那呼噜呼噜的喘息声，每一声喘息似乎都可能随时会使老人的生命戛然中止。最后，这几个人之中最能自持的维尔福说话了。“阁下，”他对马西米兰说，“你说你爱瓦朗蒂娜，你和她订有婚约。我作为她的父亲却不知道这一切，我看出你对她的心是真挚的，所以我宽恕你，但是你所爱的人已离开了这个世界；她与人世间已最后的告别了，阁下，把那只你希望得到的手再在你自己的手里握一次，然后永远与她分别了吧。瓦朗蒂娜现在只需要神父来为她祝福了。” 
“你错了，阁下，”莫雷尔站起身来大声道，他的心里感到他从未经历过的剧痛，——“你错了，瓦朗蒂娜虽然已经死了，她不但要一位神父，更需要一个为她报仇的人。维尔福先生，请你派人去请神父，我来为瓦朗蒂娜报仇。” 
“你是什么意思，阁下？”维尔福不安地问。莫雷尔的话使他感到不寒而栗。 
“我是说，阁下，你有双重身份，做为父亲你已经伤心够了，作为检察官请你开始履行责任吧。” 
诺瓦梯埃的眼睛亮了一下，阿夫里尼先生走到老人身边来。 
“诸位，”莫雷尔说，所有在场的人的表情都没逃过他的眼睛，“我明白我所说的话，你们也同样明白，——瓦朗蒂娜是被人害死的！” 
维尔福垂下头去，诺瓦梯埃用目光表示同意阿夫里尼的意见。 
莫雷尔继续说，“我们所处的这个时代，一个人，即使一个普通的人忽然离开这个世界，我们也一定会调查她离开这个世界的原因，更不用说瓦朗蒂娜这样一个年轻、美丽、可爱的姑娘。检察官阁下，”莫雷尔愈说愈激动，“不能手软。找向你揭发了罪行，你去寻找凶手吧！” 
那年轻人用仇深似海的眼睛看着维尔福，维尔福则把求助的眼光从诺瓦梯埃转到阿夫里尼。看到医生和他父亲的眼睛里都没有同情，又转象马西米兰那样坚决的表情。老人用目光表示说：“是的！”阿夫里尼说：“一定的！” 
“阁下，”维尔福说，那三个人的决定和他自己的情感纠缠在一起，——“阁下，想必是你弄错了，这儿不会有人犯罪。命运在打击我，上帝在磨炼我。这些事情的发生的确可怕，但并不是有人在杀人。” 
诺瓦梯埃的眼睛里象要冒出火来，阿夫里尼刚要说话，莫雷尔伸出手臂，阻止了他。“我告诉这儿仍然有人在杀人！”莫雷尔说，他的声音低沉悲愤。“我告诉你，这是最近四个月来第四个惨遭毒手的牺牲者了。我告诉你，那凶手在四天以前就想用毒药害死瓦朗蒂娜，只是由于诺瓦梯埃先生早有防备，凶手才没有得逞。我告诉你，凶手换了一种毒药，也许是加大了药量，这一次，让它得呈了。提醒你，这些事情你比我更清楚，因为这位先生作为医生和朋友曾事先警告过你。” 
“噢，你胡说八道，阁下！”维尔福大声嚷道，竭力想从他已经陷入的被动局面逃脱出来。 
“我胡说？”莫雷尔说，“嗯，那么，我请阿夫里尼先生主持公道。问问他，阁下，问他是否记得，在圣·梅朗夫人去世的那天晚上，在这座房子的花园里，他说了一些什么话。你以为花园里当时只有你们两个人，你把圣·梅朗夫人的惨死，象刚才那样归纠于命运，归罪于上帝，你由于推脱责任造成了瓦朗蒂娜的被杀。”维尔福和阿夫里尼交换了一下眼光。 
“是的，是的，”莫雷尔继续说，你一定还记得，你自以为没有旁人听见你们的谈话但那些话被我听到了。当然，维尔福先生漠视他亲戚的被害以后，我应该向当局去告发他，如果那样，可爱的瓦朗蒂娜就不会死！现在我要为你报仇。谁都看得明白。如果你的父亲再不理会，瓦朗蒂娜，那么我——我向你发誓——我就要去寻杀害你的凶手。”莫雷尔那强壮的身体几乎要爆炸了，这一次，好象连上帝也同情那个可怜的年轻人了，莫雷尔如骨梗在喉，继而嚎啕大哭；不听话的眼泪从他的眼睛里涌了出来；他大哭着扑倒在瓦朗蒂娜的床边。 
这时，阿夫里尼用一种低沉的声音说道，“我同意莫雷尔先生的意见，要求公正地处罚罪犯，一想到我懦怯的怂恿一个凶手，我心里非常难过。” 
“噢，仁慈的上帝呀！”维尔福沮丧地说道。他被他们悲愤而又坚决的态度征服了。 
莫雷尔抬起头来，发现老人的眼睛闪着不自然的光辉，便说：“等一等，诺瓦梯埃先生想说话。” 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃用眼睛示意说，因为他所有的功能集中到了眼睛上。所以他的样子看上去很可怕。 
“您知道那个凶手吗？”莫雷尔问他。 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃表示说。 
“而您要告诉我们吗？”那年轻人喊道，“听着，阿夫里尼先生！听着！” 
诺瓦梯埃带着一种抑郁的微笑看着那不幸的莫雷尔，——眼睛里这种慈祥的微笑曾给瓦朗蒂娜带来多少欢乐啊！使莫雷尔的注意力随着他自己的眼光转向门口。 
“您要我离开吗？”莫雷尔伤心地问。 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃表示。 
“唉，唉，阁下，可怜可怜我吧！” 
老人的眼睛还是看着门口。 
“我还可以回来是吧？”莫雷尔问。 
“是的。” 
“就我一个人出去吗？” 
“不。” 
“我该把谁带走呢，——检察官先生吗？ 
“不。” 
“医生？” 
“是的。” 
“您要和维尔福先生谈话？” 
“是的。” 
“他能懂得您的意思吗？” 
“是的。” 
“噢！”维尔福说，调查工作可以在私下进行了，—— 
“噢，放心吧，我能够懂得家父的意思的。” 
阿夫里尼扶住那年轻人的胳膊，领他走出房间。这时，整幢房子被死一般的寂静笼罩着。一刻钟以后，他们听见踉跄的脚步声，维尔福出现在阿夫里尼和莫雷尔痛苦等待着的房间门口。他们一个在沉思，一个因为痛苦几乎透不过气来，“你们可以来了。”他说，他们回到诺瓦梯埃那儿。莫雷尔注意到维尔福脸色青白；大滴汗珠从他的脸颊上滚下；他的手里的一支笔已经捏碎了。“二位，”他用一种嘶哑的声音说，“你们用人格向我提保：决不把这个可怕的秘密泄露出去，两个人下意识地退了一步。“我恳求你们——”维尔福继续说。 
“但是，”莫雷尔说，“那个罪犯——那个杀人犯——那个凶手呢？” 
“请放心，阁下，正义会得到伸张的，”维尔福说。“家父已经告诉了我那个杀人犯是谁，家父也象你一样渴望报仇，但他也象我一样请求你们保守这个秘密。是吗，父亲？” 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃坚决地表示。莫雷尔不禁发出一声恐怖和怀疑的叫声。 
“噢，阁下！”维尔福抓住马西米兰的手臂说，“家父是个很坚强的人，他提出了这个要求，那是因为他知道，而且确信瓦朗蒂娜的仇一定能报。是这样吗，父亲？”老人作了一个肯定的表示。维尔福继续说，“父亲是了解我的，我已向他发过誓。放心吧，二位，在三天之内，司法机关所需的时间更短，我要向谋杀我孩子的人报仇。我报仇的手段会让最最勇敢的人看了也会发抖。”当他说这几句话的时候，他咬牙切齿，紧握住老人那只没有感觉的手。 
“这个诺言会履行吗，诺瓦梯埃先生？”莫雷尔问，阿夫里尼也用询问的眼光望着他。 
“是的。”诺瓦梯埃带着一种凶狠的惬意表情回答。 
“那么请发誓吧，”维尔福把莫雷尔和阿夫里尼的手拉在一起说，“你们发誓要保全我家的名誉，让我来为我的孩子报仇。” 
阿夫里尼把头撇转在一边，极不情愿地说“是”；但莫雷尔挣脱他的手，冲到床前，在瓦朗蒂娜那冰冷的嘴唇上吻了一下，就发出一声绝望的呻吟，急匆匆地离开了。 
前面已经说过，所有的仆人都跑光了。所以维尔福先生不得不要求阿夫里尼先生主持丧事的一切事宜，在一个大城市里办丧事是件麻烦事，尤其是在这种暧昧的情况下死了人。 
不管别人怎么安慰劝说，诺瓦梯埃先生还是不肯离开他的孙女儿，他的眼泪默默地顺着脸颊滚落下来，这种无言的痛苦和沉默的绝望。让人目不忍睹。维尔福回到书房里，阿夫里尼去找市政府专门负责验尸医生，那位医生因其负责验尸，所以被人称为“死医生”。一刻钟以后，阿夫里尼先生带着“死医生”回来了。发现大门是关着的，由于门房和仆人们已经逃走，维尔福只能亲自出来开门。但他走到楼梯顶上就停下了，他没有勇气再进那个房间。所以两位医生走进瓦朗蒂娜的房间。诺瓦梯埃仍坐在床前，象死者一样的苍白、沉默寂然无声。“死医生”漠不动情地走到床前，揭开盖在死者身上的床单，稍微掰了掰姑娘的嘴唇。 
“唉，”阿夫里尼说，“她真的死啦，可怜的孩子！你可以走了。” 
“是的”医生简洁地回答，放手把床单又盖在姑娘身上。 
诺瓦梯埃发出一种呼噜呼噜喘息声，老人的眼睛闪闪发光，阿夫里尼明白他希望再看一看他的孩子。他走到床前，趁“死医生”把他那接触过死人的嘴唇的手浸在漂白液里的时候，他揭开床单，他揭开床单’看到那个宁静而苍白，象一个睡着的天使那样的面孔。老人眼睛里滚下眼泪，表示了他对医生的感谢。“死医生”那时已把他的验尸报告放在桌子角上；他的任务完成后，阿夫里尼便陪他出去。维尔福在他的书斋门口遇见他们。他对医生说了几句感谢的话，然后转向阿夫里尼说：“现在请个神父吧？” 
“您想特地去指定一位神父来为瓦朗蒂娜祈祷吗？”阿夫里尼问。 
“不，”维尔福说，“就近找一位好了。” 
“近处有一位善良的意大利长老，”“死医生”说，“他就在您的隔壁。我顺便请他过来好吗？” 
“阿夫里尼，”维尔福说，那就麻烦您陪这位先生一起去。 
把大门钥匙带上这样您进出就方便。您带那位神父来，我领他到瓦朗蒂娜的房间里去。” 
“您希望见见他吗？” 
“我只希望独自呆一会儿，请原谅我，一位神父是懂得这种悲伤的，尤其一位父亲失去女儿的悲伤。”维尔福先生把钥匙交交给阿夫里尼，向那位“死医生”道了别，就回到他的书房里，开始工作了。”对于某些人来说，工作是医治悲伤的良药。 
当两位医生走到街上的时候，他们注意到一个穿法衣的人站在隔壁的房门口。“这就是我所说的那位长老。”医生对阿夫里尼说。 
阿夫里尼上前去同那位神父打招呼。“阁下，”他说，“您愿意为一个刚失去女儿的不幸的父亲尽一次伟大的义务吗？他就是维尔福先生，那位检察官。” 
“啊！”神父的意大利口音很重，“是的，我听说那座房子里死了人。” 
“我正要去自荐，阁下，”那神父说，“克尽职守原是我们的职责。” 
“死者是一个年轻的姑娘。” 
“我知道的，阁下，从那座房子里逃出来的仆人告诉我了，我知道她叫瓦朗蒂娜，我已经为她祈祷过了。” 
“谢谢您，阁下，”阿夫里尼说，“既然您已开始您那神圣的职责就请继续下去吧。请去坐在死者的身边，他们全家人都会感激您的。” 
“我这就去，阁下，谁的祈祷也不会比我的更虔诚。” 
阿夫里尼搀住那神父的手，没有去见维尔福，径自走到瓦朗蒂娜的房间里，那个房间没有任何变动，殡仪馆的人要到傍晚才来收尸。当长老进去的时候，诺瓦梯埃异样的眼光望着他的眼睛；认为他已从神父的眼睛里看到了一种特殊的表示，他要继续留在房间里。阿夫里尼请神父照顾那死者和老人，长老答应尽力为瓦朗蒂娜祈祷并照看诺瓦梯埃。为了他在履行这种神圣的使命时不受人打扰，阿夫里尼离去，神父就闩房门，而且把通向维尔福夫人房间的房门也闩了。 
Chapter 104 Danglars Signature
 THE NEXT MORNING dawned dull and cloudy. During the night the undertakers had executed their melancholy office, and wrapped the corpse in the winding-sheet, which, whatever may be said about the equality of death, is at least a last proof of the luxury so pleasing in life. This winding-sheet was nothing more than a beautiful piece of cambric, which the young girl had bought a fortnight before. During the evening two men, engaged for the purpose, had carried Noirtier from Valentine's room into his own, and contrary to all expectation there was no difficulty in withdrawing him from his child. The Abbé Busoni had watched till daylight, and then left without calling any one. D'Avrigny returned about eight o'clock in the morning; he met Villefort on his way to Noirtier's room, and accompanied him to see how the old man had slept. They found him in the large arm-chair, which served him for a bed, enjoying a calm, nay, almost a smiling sleep. They both stood in amazement at the door. 
"See," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "nature knows how to alleviate the deepest sorrow. No one can say that M. Noirtier did not love his child, and yet he sleeps." 
"Yes, you are right," replied Villefort, surprised; "he sleeps, indeed! And this is the more strange, since the least contradiction keeps him awake all night." 
"Grief has stunned him," replied d'Avrigny; and they both returned thoughtfully to the procureur's study. 
"See, I have not slept," said Villefort, showing his undisturbed bed; "grief does not stun me. I have not been in bed for two nights; but then look at my desk; see what I have written during these two days and nights. I have filled those papers, and have made out the accusation against the assassin Benedetto. Oh, work, work,--my passion, my joy, my delight,--it is for thee to alleviate my sorrows!" and he convulsively grasped the hand of d'Avrigny. 
"Do you require my services now?" asked d'Avrigny. 
"No," said Villefort; "only return again at eleven o'clock; at twelve the--the--oh, heavens, my poor, poor child!" and the procureur again becoming a man, lifted up his eyes and groaned. 
"Shall you be present in the reception room?" 
"No; I have a cousin who has undertaken this sad office. I shall work, doctor--when I work I forget everything." And, indeed, no sooner had the doctor left the room, than he was again absorbed in study. On the doorsteps d'Avrigny met the cousin whom Villefort had mentioned, a personage as insignificant in our story as in the world he occupied--one of those beings designed from their birth to make themselves useful to others. He was punctual, dressed in black, with crape around his hat, and presented himself at his cousin's with a face made up for the occasion, and which he could alter as might be required. At twelve o'clock the mourning-coaches rolled into the paved court, and the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré was filled with a crowd of idlers, equally pleased to witness the festivities or the mourning of the rich, and who rush with the same avidity to a funeral procession as to the marriage of a duchess. 
Gradually the reception-room filled, and some of our old friends made their appearance--we mean Debray, Chateau-Renaud, and Beauchamp, accompanied by all the leading men of the day at the bar, in literature, or the army, for M. de Villefort moved in the first Parisian circles, less owing to his social position than to his personal merit. The cousin standing at the door ushered in the guests, and it was rather a relief to the indifferent to see a person as unmoved as themselves, and who did not exact a mournful face or force tears, as would have been the case with a father, a brother, or a lover. Those who were acquainted soon formed into little groups. One of them was made of Debray, Chateau-Renaud, and Beauchamp. 
"Poor girl," said Debray, like the rest, paying an involuntary tribute to the sad event,--"poor girl, so young, so rich, so beautiful! Could you have imagined this scene, Chateau-Renaud, when we saw her, at the most three weeks ago, about to sign that contract?" 
"Indeed, no," said Chateau-Renaud--"Did you know her?" 
"I spoke to her once or twice at Madame de Morcerf's, among the rest; she appeared to me charming, though rather melancholy. Where is her stepmother? Do you know?" 
"She is spending the day with the wife of the worthy gentleman who is receiving us." 
"Who is he?" 
"Whom do you mean?" 
"The gentleman who receives us? Is he a deputy?" 
"Oh, no. I am condemned to witness those gentlemen every day," said Beauchamp; "but he is perfectly unknown to me." 
"Have you mentioned this death in your paper?" 
"It has been mentioned, but the article is not mine; indeed, I doubt if it will please M. Villefort, for it says that if four successive deaths had happened anywhere else than in the house of the king's attorney, he would have interested himself somewhat more about it." 
"Still," said Chateau-Renaud, "Dr. d'Avrigny, who attends my mother, declares he is in despair about it. But whom are you seeking, Debray?" 
"I am seeking the Count of Monte Cristo" said the young man. 
"I met him on the boulevard, on my way here," said Beauchamp. "I think he is about to leave Paris; he was going to his banker." 
"His banker? Danglars is his banker, is he not?" asked Chateau-Renaud of Debray. 
"I believe so," replied the secretary with slight uneasiness. "But Monte Cristo is not the only one I miss here; I do not see Morrel." 
"Morrel? Do they know him?" asked Chateau-Renaud. "I think he has only been introduced to Madame de Villefort." 
"Still, he ought to have been here," said Debray; "I wonder what will be talked about to-night; this funeral is the news of the day. But hush, here comes our minister of justice; he will feel obliged to make some little speech to the cousin," and the three young men drew near to listen. Beauchamp told the truth when he said that on his way to the funeral he had met Monte Cristo, who was directing his steps towards the Rue de la Chausse d'Antin, to M. Danglars'. 
The banker saw the carriage of the count enter the court yard, and advanced to meet him with a sad, though affable smile. "Well," said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo, "I suppose you have come to sympathize with me, for indeed misfortune has taken possession of my house. When I perceived you, I was just asking myself whether I had not wished harm towards those poor Morcerfs, which would have justified the proverb of 'He who wishes misfortunes to happen to others experiences them himself.' Well, on my word of honor, I answered, 'No!' I wished no ill to Morcerf; he was a little proud, perhaps, for a man who like myself has risen from nothing; but we all have our faults. Do you know, count, that persons of our time of life--not that you belong to the class, you are still a young man,--but as I was saying, persons of our time of life have been very unfortunate this year. For example, look at the puritanical procureur, who has just lost his daughter, and in fact nearly all his family, in so singular a manner; Morcerf dishonored and dead; and then myself covered with ridicule through the villany of Benedetto; besides"-- 
"Besides what?" asked the Count. 
"Alas, do you not know?" 
"What new calamity?" 
"My daughter"-- 
"Mademoiselle Danglars?" 
"Eugénie has left us!" 
"Good heavens, what are you telling me?" 
"The truth, my dear count. Oh, how happy you must be in not having either wife or children!" 
"Do you think so?" 
"Indeed I do." 
"And so Mademoiselle Danglars"-- 
"She could not endure the insult offered to us by that wretch, so she asked permission to travel." 
"And is she gone?" 
"The other night she left." 
"With Madame Danglars?" 
"No, with a relation. But still, we have quite lost our dear Eugénie; for I doubt whether her pride will ever allow her to return to France." 
"Still, baron," said Monte Cristo, "family griefs, or indeed any other affliction which would crush a man whose child was his only treasure, are endurable to a millionaire. Philosophers may well say, and practical men will always support the opinion, that money mitigates many trials; and if you admit the efficacy of this sovereign balm, you ought to be very easily consoled--you, the king of finance, the focus of immeasurable power." 
Danglars looked at him askance, as though to ascertain whether he spoke seriously. "Yes," he answered, "if a fortune brings consolation, I ought to be consoled; I am rich." 
"So rich, dear sir, that your fortune resembles the pyramids; if you wished to demolish them you could not, and if it were possible, you would not dare!" Danglars smiled at the good-natured pleasantry of the count. "That reminds me," he said, "that when you entered I was on the point of signing five little bonds; I have already signed two: will you allow me to do the same to the others?" 
"Pray do so." 
There was a moment's silence, during which the noise of the banker's pen was alone heard, while Monte Cristo examined the gilt mouldings on the ceiling. "Are they Spanish, Haitian, or Neapolitan bonds?" said Monte Cristo. "No," said Danglars, smiling, "they are bonds on the bank of France, payable to bearer. Stay, count," he added, "you, who may he called the emperor, if I claim the title of king of finance, have you many pieces of paper of this size, each worth a million?" The count took into his hands the papers, which Danglars had so proudly presented to him, and read:-- 
"To the Governor of the Bank. Please pay to my order, from the fund deposited by me, the sum of a million, and charge the same to my account. 
"BARON DANGLARS." 
"One, two, three, four, five," said Monte Cristo; "five millions--why what a Croesus you are!" 
"This is how I transact business," said Danglars. 
"It is really wonderful," said the count; "above all, if, as I suppose, it is payable at sight." 
"It is, indeed, said Danglars. 
"It is a fine thing to have such credit; really, it is only in France these things are done. Five millions on five little scraps of paper!--it must be seen to be believed." 
"You do not doubt it?" 
"No!" 
"You say so with an accent--stay, you shall be convinced; take my clerk to the bank, and you will see him leave it with an order on the Treasury for the same sum." 
"No," said Monte Cristo folding the five notes, "most decidedly not; the thing is so curious, I will make the experiment myself. I am credited on you for six millions. I have drawn nine hundred thousand francs, you therefore still owe me five millions and a hundred thousand francs. I will take the five scraps of paper that I now hold as bonds, with your signature alone, and here is a receipt in full for the six millions between us. I had prepared it beforehand, for I am much in want of money to-day." And Monte Cristo placed the bonds in his pocket with one hand, while with the other he held out the receipt to Danglars. If a thunderbolt had fallen at the banker's feet, he could not have experienced greater terror. 
"What," he stammered, "do you mean to keep that money? Excuse me, excuse me, but I owe this money to the charity fund,--a deposit which I promised to pay this morning." 
"Oh, well, then," said Monte Cristo, "I am not particular about these five notes, pay me in a different form; I wished, from curiosity, to take these, that I might be able to say that without any advice or preparation the house of Danglars had paid me five millions without a minute's delay; it would have been remarkable. But here are your bonds; pay me differently;" and he held the bonds towards Danglars, who seized them like a vulture extending its claws to withhold the food that is being wrested from its grasp. Suddenly he rallied, made a violent effort to restrain himself, and then a smile gradually widened the features of his disturbed countenance. 
"Certainly," he said, "your receipt is money." 
"Oh dear, yes; and if you were at Rome, the house of Thomson & French would make no more difficulty about paying the money on my receipt than you have just done." 
"Pardon me, count, pardon me." 
"Then I may keep this money?" 
"Yes," said Danglars, while the perspiration started from the roots of his hair. "Yes, keep it--keep it." 
Monte Cristo replaced the notes in his pocket with that indescribable expression which seemed to say, "Come, reflect; if you repent there is till time." 
"No," said Danglars, "no, decidedly no; keep my signatures. But you know none are so formal as bankers in transacting business; I intended this money for the charity fund, and I seemed to be robbing them if I did not pay them with these precise bonds. How absurd--as if one crown were not as good as another. Excuse me;" and he began to laugh loudly, but nervously. 
"Certainly, I excuse you," said Monte Cristo graciously, "and pocket them." And he placed the bonds in his pocket-book. 
"But," said Danglars, "there is still a sum of one hundred thousand francs?" 
"Oh, a mere nothing," said Monte Cristo. "The balance would come to about that sum; but keep it, and we shall be quits." 
"Count." said Danglars, "are you speaking seriously?" 
"I never joke with bankers," said Monte Cristo in a freezing manner, which repelled impertinence; and he turned to the door, just as the valet de chambre announced,-- 
"M. de Boville, receiver-general of the charities." 
"Ma foi!" said Monte Cristo; "I think I arrived just in time to obtain your signatures, or they would have been disputed with me." 
Danglars again became pale, and hastened to conduct the count out. Monte Cristo exchanged a ceremonious bow with M. de Boville, who was standing in the waiting-room, and who was introduced into Danglars' room as soon as the count had left. The count's sad face was illumined by a faint smile, as he noticed the portfolio which the receiver-general held in his hand. At the door he found his carriage, and was immediately driven to the bank. Meanwhile Danglars, repressing all emotion, advanced to meet the receiver-general. We need not say that a smile of condescension was stamped upon his lips. "Good-morning, creditor," said he; "for I wager anything it is the creditor who visits me." 
"You are right, baron," answered M. de Boville; "the charities present themselves to you through me: the widows and orphans depute me to receive alms to the amount of five millions from you." 
"And yet they say orphans are to be pitied," said Danglars, wishing to prolong the jest. "Poor things!" 
"Here I am in their name," said M. de Boville; "but did you receive my letter yesterday?" 
"Yes." 
"I have brought my receipt." 
"My dear M. de Boville, your widows and orphans must oblige me by waiting twenty-four hours, since M. de Monte Cristo whom you just saw leaving here--you did see him, I think?" 
"Yes; well?" 
"Well, M. de Monte Cristo has just carried off their five millions." 
"How so?" 
"The count has an unlimited credit upon me; a credit opened by Thomson & French, of Rome; he came to demand five millions at once, which I paid him with checks on the bank. My funds are deposited there, and you can understand that if I draw out ten millions on the same day it will appear rather strange to the governor. Two days will be a different thing," said Danglars, smiling. 
"Come," said Boville, with a tone of entire incredulity, "five millions to that gentleman who just left, and who bowed to me as though he knew me?" 
"Perhaps he knows you, though you do not know him; M. de Monte Cristo knows everybody." 
"Five millions!" 
"Here is his receipt. Believe your own eyes." M. de Boville took the paper Danglars presented him, and read:-- 
"Received of Baron Danglars the sum of five million one hundred thousand francs, to be repaid on demand by the house of Thomson & French of Rome." 
"It is really true," said M. de Boville. 
"Do you know the house of Thomson & French?" 
"Yes, I once had business to transact with it to the amount of 200,000 francs; but since then I have not heard it mentioned." 
"It is one of the best houses in Europe," said Danglars, carelessly throwing down the receipt on his desk. 
"And he had five millions in your hands alone! Why, this Count of Monte Cristo must be a nabob?" 
"Indeed I do not know what he is; he has three unlimited credits--one on me, one on Rothschild, one on Lafitte; and, you see," he added carelessly, "he has given me the preference, by leaving a balance of 100,000 francs." M. de Boville manifested signs of extraordinary admiration. "I must visit him," he said, "and obtain some pious grant from him." 
"Oh, you may make sure of him; his charities alone amount to 20,000 francs a month." 
"It is magnificent! I will set before him the example of Madame de Morcerf and her son." 
"What example?" 
"They gave all their fortune to the hospitals." 
"What fortune?" 
"Their own--M. de Morcerf's, who is deceased." 
"For what reason?" 
"Because they would not spend money so guiltily acquired." 
"And what are they to live upon?" 
"The mother retires into the country, and the son enters the army." 
"Well, I must confess, these are scruples." 
"I registered their deed of gift yesterday." 
"And how much did they possess?" 
"Oh, not much--from twelve to thirteen hundred thousand francs. But to return to our millions." 
"Certainly," said Danglars, in the most natural tone in the world. "Are you then pressed for this money?" 
"Yes; for the examination of our cash takes place to-morrow." 
"To-morrow? Why did you not tell me so before? Why, it is as good as a century! At what hour does the examination take place?" 
"At two o'clock." 
"Send at twelve," said Danglars, smiling. M. de Boville said nothing, but nodded his head, and took up the portfolio. "Now I think of it, you can do better," said Danglars. 
"How do you mean?" 
"The receipt of M. de Monte Cristo is as good as money; take it to Rothschild's or Lafitte's, and they will take it off your hands at once." 
"What, though payable at Rome?" 
"Certainly; it will only cost you a discount of 5,000 or 6,000 francs." 
The receiver started back. 
"Ma foi!" he said, "I prefer waiting till to-morrow. What a proposition!" 
"I thought, perhaps," said Danglars with supreme impertinence, "that you had a deficiency to make up?" 
"Indeed," said the receiver. 
"And if that were the case it would be worth while to make some sacrifice." 
"Thank you, no, sir " 
"Then it will be to-morrow." 
"Yes; but without fail." 
"Ah, you are laughing at me; send to-morrow at twelve, and the bank shall be notified." 
"I will come myself." 
"Better still, since it will afford me the pleasure of seeing you." They shook hands. "By the way," said M. de Boville, "are you not going to the funeral of poor Mademoiselle de Villefort, which I met on my road here?" 
"No," said the banker; "I have appeared rather ridiculous since that affair of Benedetto, so I remain in the background." 
"Bah, you are wrong. How were you to blame in that affair?" 
"Listen--when one bears an irreproachable name, as I do, one is rather sensitive." 
"Everybody pities you, sir; and, above all, Mademoiselle Danglars!" 
"Poor Eugénie!" said Danglars; "do you know she is going to embrace a religious life?" 
"No." 
"Alas, it is unhappily but too true. The day after the event, she decided on leaving Paris with a nun of her acquaintance; they are gone to seek a very strict convent in Italy or Spain." 
"Oh, it is terrible!" and M. de Boville retired with this exclamation, after expressing acute sympathy with the father. But he had scarcely left before Danglars, with an energy of action those can alone understand who have seen Robert Macaire represented by Frederic, [1] exclaimed,--"Fool!" Then enclosing Monte Cristo's receipt in a little pocket-book, he added:--"Yes, come at twelve o'clock; I shall then be far away." Then he double-locked his door, emptied all his drawers, collected about fifty thousand francs in bank-notes, burned several papers, left others exposed to view, and then commenced writing a letter which he addressed: 
"To Madame la Baronne Danglars." 
"I will place it on her table myself to-night," he murmured. Then taking a passport from his drawer he said,--"Good, it is available for two months longer."  
第二天是个阴霾多云的日子。殡仪馆的人在昨夜执行完了他们的任务，把尸体裹在一块包尸布里，尽管有人说死亡面前人人平等，但包尸布却要最后证明他们生前所享受的奢侈。这块包尸布是瓦朗蒂娜在半月以前刚买的一块质地极好的麻布衣料。那天晚上，收尸的人把诺梯瓦埃从瓦朗蒂娜的房间搬回到他自己的房间里，让人出乎意料的是：要他离开他的孩子并没怎么费事。布沙尼长老一直守候到天亮，然后没有同任何人打招呼径自离开了。阿夫里尼是早晨八点钟左右回来的。他在到诺瓦梯埃房间去的路上遇到维尔福，他们去看老人睡得如何。令他们惊奇的是老人在一张大圈椅里，睡得正香，他面色平静，脸带微笑。 
“瞧，”阿夫里尼对维尔福说，“上帝知道如此来抚慰人的悲伤。有谁能说诺瓦梯埃先生不爱他的孩子？可是他照样睡着了。” 
“是的，您说得很对，”维尔福神色惊奇地回答说，“他真的睡着了！这真奇怪，因为以前最轻微的骚扰就会使他整夜睡不着。” 
“悲哀使他麻木了。”阿夫里尼回答，他们深思着回到检察官的书房。 
“看，我没有睡过，”维尔福指着他那张根本没动过的床说，“悲哀并没有使我麻木。我有两夜没有睡了，看看我的书桌。我在这两天两夜里面写了很多东西。我写满了那些纸，已写好了控告凶手贝尼代托的起诉状。噢，工作！工作！工作是我的热情，让我愉快，让我喜悦！工作减轻我的悲伤！”他用痉挛的手握住阿夫里尼的手。 
“您现在需要我帮忙吗？”阿夫里尼问。 
“不，”维尔福说，请你在十一点钟的时候回来，到十二点，那——那——噢，天哪！我那可怜的，可怜的孩子！”检察官的铁石心肠也变软了，他抬起头向上望着呻吟起来。 
“您想到客厅里去接待来客吗？” 
“不，我的一个堂弟代我担任了这种伤心的职责。我要工作，医生，当我工作的时候，我就忘掉一切悲伤了。”的确，医生一离开书房，维尔福便又专心致志地工作起来。 
阿夫里尼在大门口恰好遇见维尔福的堂弟，此人在我们的故事里正如在他这个家族一样，是一个无足轻重的角色，——是那生来就供人差遣的角色。他很守时，穿着黑衣服，手臂上缠着黑纱，带着一副根据情况需要而随时可以变化的面孔去见他的堂兄。到十二点钟，丧车驶进铺着石板的院子圣·奥诺路上挤满了游手好闲的人，这些人对节日有钱人家的丧事就如同节日一样感兴趣，他们象去看一次大出丧同看一位公爵小姐的婚礼一样热烈。客厅被人挤满了，我们的几位老朋友都已经来到，先前是德布雷、夏多·勒诺和波尚，然后是当时司法界、文学界和军界的领袖人物；因为维尔福先生是巴黎社会中的第一流人物，——这，一部分是由于他的社会地位，但更重要的，还是由于他个人才干的力量。 
他那位堂弟站在门口接待宾客，他无动于衷，并没有象一位父亲，一位兄长，一个爱人那样哀伤或者勉强挤出几滴眼泪。 
这使宾客们感到很轻松，那些相识的人便组成了小团体。其中有一个小团体是由德布雷、夏多·勒诺和波尚组成的。 
“可怜的姑娘！”德布雷说，象其他来宾一样，他也对这位年轻姑娘的死言不由衷地说了几句，——“可怜的姑娘，这样年轻，这样有钱，这样漂亮！夏多·勒诺，当我们——那是多久以前的事呀？三个星期，也许最多一个月以前吧——我们不是在这儿参加那次并没有签订成功的婚约仪式的吗？那时你会想到发生这样的事吗？” 
“的确想不到。”夏多·勒诺说。 
“你认识她吗？” 
“我在马尔塞夫夫人家里见过她一两次，不过我觉得她很可爱，当时她有点儿抑郁。她的继母到哪儿去了？你知道吗？” 
“她去陪伴接待我们的那位先生的太太去了。” 
“他是谁？” 
“哪一位？” 
“那个接待我们的人。他是议员吗？” 
“噢，不，那些议员我每天都见过，”波尚说，“他的面孔我却不认识。” 
“这件丧事有没有登报？” 
“报纸上提及过，但文章不是我写的。真的，我不知道维尔福先生看了那篇文章是否会很高兴，因为它说，如果那接连四次死亡事件不是发生在检察官的家里，他对这件事情就感到有特别大的兴趣了。” 
“可是，”夏多·勒诺说，“为家母看病的阿夫里尼医生却说维尔福情绪非常沮丧。你在找谁呀，德布雷？” 
“我在找基督山伯爵。”德布雷道。 
“我的银行家？他的银行家是腾格拉尔，是不是？”夏多·勒诺问德布雷。 
“我相信是的，”那秘书带着略微有些尴尬地回答。“但这儿不仅只少基督山一个人，我也没有看见莫雷尔。” 
“莫雷尔！他们认识他吗？”夏多·勒诺问。 
“我记得别人只给他介绍过维尔福夫人。” 
“可是，他是应该这儿来的呀，”德布雷说。“今天晚上我们谈论些什么？谈论这件到事件，这是今天的新闻。但是，不要再说了，我们的司法部长来了。他一定得对那个哭哭啼啼的堂弟说几句话。”于是那三个青年赶紧揍过去听。 
波尚说的是实话。在他来参加丧礼的途中，他曾遇见过基督山，后者正在朝安顿大马路腾格拉尔先生的府上那个方向驶去。那银行家看见伯爵的马车驶进前院，带着一个伤心但又殷勤的微笑出来迎接他。“噢，”他把手伸给基督山说，“我想您是来向我表示同情吧，因为不幸确实已三番五次光临我们家了。当我看见您的时候，我正在问我自己：究竟我是否伤害了那可怜的马尔塞夫一家人，假若我曾那样希望，那么谚语所说的‘凡希望旁人遭遇不幸者，他自己必也遭遇不幸’那句话就说对了。唉！我以人格保证，不！我决没有希望马尔塞夫遭祸。他有一点儿骄傲，但那或许是因为，象我一样，他也是一个白手起家的人，可是每个人都是有缺点。啊！请看，伯爵，请看看我们这一代的人，——我们这一代人今年都非常倒霉。举例来说，看看那清正严谨的检察官所遭遇的怪事，他虽然刚失去了他的女儿，而事实上他的全家几乎都已经死光了，马尔塞夫已经身败名裂自杀身亡，而我因受贝尼代托的耻辱，而受尽人家的奚落。” 
“还有什么？”伯爵问。 
“唉！您不知道吗？” 
“又有什么新的不幸发生了？” 
“我的女儿——” 
“腾格拉尔小姐怎样啦？” 
“欧热妮已离开我们了！” 
“天哪！你在说什么呀？” 
“是实话，我亲爱的伯爵。噢，您没有妻子儿女是多幸福哪！” 
“您真的这样想吗？” 
“我的确这样想。” 
“那末腾格拉尔小姐——” 
“她无法容忍那坏蛋对我们的羞辱，她要求我允许她去旅行。” 
“她已经走了吗？” 
“前天晚上走的。” 
“与腾格拉尔夫人一起去的吗？” 
“不，与一位朋友。可是，我们就怕再也见不到欧热妮了，因为她的骄傲是不允许她再回法国的。” 
“可是，男爵呀，”基督山说，“家庭里发生的伤心事，或是其他任何的烦恼，只会压倒那些只有他们的儿女可作为唯一宝物的穷人，但对一位百万富翁，那些痛苦确是可以忍受的。哲学家说得好：金钱可以减轻许多苦恼。这种观点，凡是实事求是的人一直是认为正确的，假如您认为这是灵丹妙药，您应该是非常满足的了，——您是金融界的国王，是一切权力的中心！” 
腾格拉尔斜眼望着他，看他说话的态度是否在取笑他。 
“是的，”他答道，“假如财富能使人得到慰藉的话，我是理应得到安慰的了，我很有钱嘛。” 
“富有极了，我亲爱的男爵，您的财产象金字塔，——您要想毁掉它都不可能，即使可能您也不愿意！” 
腾格拉尔对伯爵这种好心的打趣微笑了一下。“我一下想起来了，”他说，“当您进来的时候，我正在签署五张小小的凭单。我已经签了两张，您能允许我把其余那几张也签好吗？” 
“请签吧，我亲爱的男爵，请签吧。” 
房屋里沉默了一会儿，在这一段时间里，只听见那位银行家嗖嗖的签票声，基督山刚在细看天花板上镀金的图案。 
“那是西班牙支票、海地支票或那不勒斯支票吗？”基督山问。 
“都不是，”腾格拉尔微笑着说，“那是当场现付的法兰西银行凭单。噢，”他又说，“伯爵，假如我可以称为金融界的国王的话，您自己应该称为金融界皇帝了，但是，象这样的每张价值一百万的支票，您见得很多吗？” 
伯爵接过那非常骄傲地递给他的腾格拉尔的那些纸片，读道： 
“总经理台鉴，——请在本人存款名下按票面额付一百万正，——腾格拉尔男爵。” 
“一，二，三，四，五，”基督山说，“五百万！啊，您简直是一个克罗苏斯［克罗苏斯，六世纪时里地的国王，以富有闻名。——译注］啦！” 
“我平时做生意也是这样的！”腾格拉尔说。 
“那好极了，”伯爵说，“尤其是，我相信，这是能付现钱的吧。” 
“的确是的。”腾格拉尔说。 
“有这种信用可不赖，真的，只有在法国才有这样的事情。五张小卡片就等于五百万！不亲眼见到谁也不能相信。” 
“难道您怀疑它吗？” 
“不。” 
“您的口气里好象还有一些怀疑的成份，等一下，我要使您完全相信。跟我的职员到银行里去，您就会看见他留下这些纸片，带着同等面额的现款了。” 
“不必了！”基督山一面说，一面收起那五张支票，“这样就不必了，这种事情是这样的稀奇，我要亲自去体验一下。我预定在您这儿提六百万。我已经提用了九十万法郎，所以您还得支付我五百一十万法郎，就给我这五张纸片吧，只要有您的签字我就相信了，这是一张我想用的六百万的收条。这张纸条是我事先准备好的，因为我今天急需钱用。”于是基督山一手把支票放进他的口袋里，一手把收据递给腾格拉尔。即使一个霹雳落到那位银行家的脚前，他也未必会这样惊恐万状了。 
“什么！”他结结巴巴地说，“您的意思是现在要提钱吗？对不起，对不起！但这笔钱是我欠医院的，——是我答应在今天早晨付出的一笔存款。” 
“噢，嗯，那好！”基督山说，“并不是一定要这几张支票，换一种方式付钱给我吧。我拿这几张支票是因为好奇，希望我可以对人家说：腾格拉尔银行不用准备就可以当时付给我五百万。那一定会使人家惊奇。这几张支票还给你，另外开几张给我吧。”他把那五张纸片递给腾格拉尔，银行家急忙伸手来抓，象是一只秃头鹰隔着铁笼子伸出利爪来要抓回从它那儿失去的食物一样。但他突然停住手，竭力控制住他自己，然后，在他那失态的面孔上渐渐露出了微笑。 
“当然罗，”他说，“您的收条就是钱。” 
“噢，是的。假如您在罗马，汤姆生·弗伦奇银行就会象您刚才那样不必太麻烦地付款给你。” 
“原谅我，伯爵，原谅我。” 
“那我现在可以收下这笔钱了？” 
“是的，”腾格拉尔说，一边揉着流下来的汗珠，“是的，收下吧，收是吧。” 
基督山把那几张支票重新放回到他的口袋里，脸上带着一种说不出的神情，象是在说：“好好，想一想，假如您反悔，现在还来得及。” 
“不，”腾格拉尔说，“不。绝对不，收了我签的支票吧。您知道，银行家办事最讲究形式的人。我本来是准备把这笔钱付给医院的，所以我一时头脑糊涂，认为假如不用这几张支票来付钱，就象被抢了钱似的！——就好象这块钱没有那块钱好似的！原谅我。”然后他开始高声笑起来，但那种笑声总掩饰不了他的心慌。 
“我当然可以原谅您，”基督山宽宏大量地说，“那我收起来了。”于是他把支票放进他的皮夹里。 
“还有一笔十万法郎的款子没有结清。”腾格拉尔说。 
“噢，小事一桩！”基督山说，“差额大概是那个数目，但不必付了，我们两清了。” 
“伯爵，”腾格拉尔说，“您此话当真吗？” 
“我是从来不和银行家开玩笑的，”基督山用冷冰冰的口气说，他老是用这种态度来止住他人的鲁莽，然后他转向了门口，而在这时，跟班进来通报说：“慈善医院主任波维里先生来到。” 
“哎呀！”基督山说，“我来得正好，刚好拿到您的支票，不然他们就要和我争执了。” 
腾格拉尔的脸色顿时变得苍白，他赶紧跟伯爵告别。基督山与站在候见室里的波维里先生交换了礼节性鞠躬，伯爵离开以后，波维里先生便立刻被引入腾格拉尔的房里。伯爵注意到那位出纳主任的手里拿着一只公文包，他那种十分严肃的脸上不由得掠过一个转瞬即逝的微笑。他在门口登上他的马车，立刻向银行驶去。 
这时，腾格拉尔抑制住内心的激动，走上去迎接那位出纳主任。不用说，他的脸上当然挂着一个殷勤的微笑。“早安，债主，”他说，“因为我敢打赌，这次来拜访我的一定是一位债主。” 
“您说对了，男爵，”波维里问先生答话，“医院派我来见您。寡妇、孤儿委托我到您这儿来问那五百万捐款。” 
“大家说孤儿是应该怜悯的，”腾格拉尔说，借开玩笑来延长时间。“可怜的孩子！” 
“我是以他们的名义来见您的，”波维里先生说，“您收到我昨天的信了吗？” 
“收到了。” 
“今天把收据带来了。” 
“我亲爱的波维里先生，我不得不请您的寡妇和孤儿等待二十四小时，因为基督山先生，就是您刚才看见离开的那位先生——您一定看见他了吧，我想？” 
“是的，嗯？” 
“嗯，基督山先生刚才把他们的五百万带走了。” 
“这是怎么回事？” 
“伯爵曾在我这儿开了一个无限提款户头，——是罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行介绍来的，他刚才来从我这儿立刻提到五百万，我就开了一张银行支票给他。我的资金都存在银行里，而您也应该明白，假如我在一天之内提出一千万，总经理就一定会觉得很奇怪。如果能分两天提，”腾格拉尔微笑着说，“那就不同了。” 
“哦，”波维里用一种不信任的口气说，“那位刚才离开的先生已经提去了五百万！他还对我鞠躬，象是我认识他似的。” 
“虽然您不认识他，或许他认识您，基督山先生的社交非常广泛。” 
“五百万！” 
“这是他的收据。请您要圣多马［圣多马，宗教传说他是十二“圣徒”之一，曾怀疑耶稣复活。后人将他比喻多疑的人。——译注］一样，验看一下吧。” 
波维里先生接过腾格拉尔递给他的那张纸条，读说：“兹收到腾格拉尔男爵伍百壹拾万法郎正，此款可随时向罗马汤姆生·弗伦奇银行支取。” 
“的确是真的！”波维里说。 
“您一定知道汤姆生·弗伦奇银行吗？” 
“是的，我曾经与它有过二十万法郎的交易，但此后就没有再听人提到过它。” 
“那是欧洲最有信誉的银行之一。”腾格拉尔说，把那张收据漫不经心抛在他的写字台上。 
“而他光在您的手里就有五百万！看来，这位基督山伯爵是一位富豪了！” 
“老实说，我不知道他到底是什么人，但他有三封无限提款的委托书，——一封给我，一封给罗斯希尔德，一封给拉费德。而您看，”他漫不经心地又说，“他把优惠权给了我，并且留下十万法郎给我做手续费用。” 
波维里先生用十分钦佩的神情。“我一定去拜访他，求他捐一点款给我们。” 
“他每月慈善捐款总在两万以上。” 
“真叫人佩服！我当把马尔塞夫夫人和她儿子的事例讲给他听。” 
“什么事例？” 
“他们把全部财产捐给了医院。” 
“什么财产？” 
“他们自己的，——已故的马尔塞夫将军给他们留下的全部财产。” 
“为了什么原因？” 
“因为他们不愿意接受通过犯罪得来的钱。” 
  
“那么他们靠什么生活呢？” 
“母亲隐居在乡下，儿子去参军。” 
“嗯，我已经必须承认，这些都是造孽钱。” 
“我昨天把他们的赠契登记好了。” 
“他们有多少？” 
“噢，不太多！大约一百二三十万法郎左右。来谈论我们的那笔款吧。” 
“当然罗，”腾格拉尔用轻松的口气说。“那末，您急于要这笔钱吗？” 
“是的，因为我们明天要查点帐目了。” 
“明天，您为什么不早告诉我呢？不过明天还早点吧？几点钟开始查点？” 
“两点钟。” 
“十二点钟送去。”腾格拉尔微笑着说。 
  
波维里先生不再说什么，只是点点头，拿起那只公文夹。 
“现在我想起来了，您可以有更好的办法。”腾格拉尔说。 
“怎么说？” 
“基督山先生的收据等于是钱，您拿它到罗斯希尔德或拉费德的银行里去，他们立刻可以给您兑现。” 
“什么，在罗马付款的单据都能兑现。” 
“当然罗，只收您付千分之五或千分之六的利息就得了。” 
那位出纳主任吓得倒退一步。“不！”他说，“我情愿还是等到明天的。亏您想得出！” 
“我以为，”腾格拉尔卤莽地说，“要填补呢？” 
“啊！”那出纳主任说。 
“假如真是那样的话，也就是他做点牺牲了。” 
“感谢上帝，不！”波维里先生说。 
“那么您愿意等到明天吗，我亲爱的出纳主任？” 
“是的，但不会再失约了吗？” 
“啊！您在开玩笑！明天十二点派人来，我先通知银行。” 
“我亲自来取好了。” 
“那敢情好，那样我就可以有幸跟您见一面了。”他们握了握手。 
“顺便问问，”波维里先生说，“我到这儿来的路上遇见那可怜的维尔福小姐送葬，您不去送丧吗？” 
“不，”那银行家说，“自从发生贝尼代托的事件以后，我似乎成了人家的笑柄，所以我不出头露面！” 
“您弄错了。那件事情怎么能怪您呢？” 
“听着：当一个人有了象我这样没受过玷污的名誉的时候，他总是有点敏感的。” 
“每一个人都会同情您，阁下，尤其同情腾格拉尔小姐！” 
“可怜的欧热妮！”腾格拉尔说，“您知道她要进修道院吗？” 
“唉！这件事很不幸，但却是真的。发生事情以后的第二天，她就带着一个她所认识的修女离开了巴黎。她们已到意大利或西班牙去寻找一座教规非常正格的修道院去了。” 
“噢！真可怕！”波维里先生带着这种表示同情的叹息声出去了。腾格拉尔便做了一个极富有表情的姿态，喊道，傻瓜！”只有看过弗列德里克扮演罗伯·马克［《罗伯·马克》是一八三四年前后在巴黎流行的一个喜剧。——译注］的人才能想象出这个姿势是什么意思。然后，一面把基督山的收据放进一只小皮夹里，一面又说，“好吧，十二点钟的时候来吧，那时我早就离开了。”他把房门上闩落锁，把他所有的抽屉，凑了大约莫五万法郎的钞票，烧了一些文件，其余的让它堆在那儿，然后开始写一封信，信封上写着“腾格拉尔男爵夫人启。” 
“我今天晚上亲自去放在她的桌子上，”他低声地说。最后，他从抽屉里拿出一张护照，说，“好！有效期还有两个月哩。”  
Chapter 105 The Cemetery of Père-la-Chaise
 M. DE BOVILLE had indeed met the funeral procession which was taking Valentine to her last home on earth. The weather was dull and stormy, a cold wind shook the few remaining yellow leaves from the boughs of the trees, and scattered them among the crowd which filled the boulevards. M. de Villefort, a true Parisian, considered the cemetery of Père-la-Chaise alone worthy of receiving the mortal remains of a Parisian family; there alone the corpses belonging to him would be surrounded by worthy associates. He had therefore purchased a vault, which was quickly occupied by members of his family. On the front of the monument was inscribed: "The families of Saint-Méran and Villefort," for such had been the last wish expressed by poor Renée, Valentine's mother. The pompous procession therefore wended its way towards Père-la-Chaise from the Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Having crossed Paris, it passed through the Faubourg du Temple, then leaving the exterior boulevards, it reached the cemetery. More than fifty private carriages followed the twenty mourning-coaches, and behind them more than five hundred persons joined in the procession on foot. 
These last consisted of all the young people whom Valentine's death had struck like a thunderbolt, and who, notwithstanding the raw chilliness of the season, could not refrain from paying a last tribute to the memory of the beautiful, chaste, and adorable girl, thus cut off in the flower of her youth. As they left Paris, an equipage with four horses, at full speed, was seen to draw up suddenly; it contained Monte Cristo. The count left the carriage and mingled in the crowd who followed on foot. Chateau-Renaud perceived him and immediately alighting from his coupé, joined him. 
The count looked attentively through every opening in the crowd; he was evidently watching for some one, but his search ended in disappointment. "Where is Morrel?" he asked; "do either of these gentlemen know where he is?" 
"We have already asked that question," said Chateau-Renaud, "for none of us has seen him." The count was silent, but continued to gaze around him. At length they arrived at the cemetery. The piercing eye of Monte Cristo glanced through clusters of bushes and trees, and was soon relieved from all anxiety, for seeing a shadow glide between the yew-trees, Monte Cristo recognized him whom he sought. One funeral is generally very much like another in this magnificent metropolis. Black figures are seen scattered over the long white avenues; the silence of earth and heaven is alone broken by the noise made by the crackling branches of hedges planted around the monuments; then follows the melancholy chant of the priests, mingled now and then with a sob of anguish, escaping from some woman concealed behind a mass of flowers. 
The shadow Monte Cristo had noticed passed rapidly behind the tomb of Abelard and Hélo?se, placed itself close to the heads of the horses belonging to the hearse, and following the undertaker's men, arrived with them at the spot appointed for the burial. Each person's attention was occupied. Monte Cristo saw nothing but the shadow, which no one else observed. Twice the count left the ranks to see whether the object of his interest had any concealed weapon beneath his clothes. When the procession stopped, this shadow was recognized as Morrel, who, with his coat buttoned up to his throat, his face livid, and convulsively crushing his hat between his fingers, leaned against a tree, situated on an elevation commanding the mausoleum, so that none of the funeral details could escape his observation. Everything was conducted in the usual manner. A few men, the least impressed of all by the scene, pronounced a discourse, some deploring this premature death, others expatiating on the grief of the father, and one very ingenious person quoting the fact that Valentine had solicited pardon of her father for criminals on whom the arm of justice was ready to fall--until at length they exhausted their stores of metaphor and mournful speeches. 
Monte Cristo heard and saw nothing, or rather he only saw Morrel, whose calmness had a frightful effect on those who knew what was passing in his heart. "See," said Beauchamp, pointing out Morrel to Debray. "What is he doing up there?" And they called Chateau-Renaud's attention to him. 
"How pale he is!" said Chateau-Renaud, shuddering. 
"He is cold," said Debray. 
"Not at all," said Chateau-Renaud, slowly; "I think he is violently agitated. He is very susceptible." 
"Bah," said Debray; "he scarcely knew Mademoiselle de Villefort; you said so yourself." 
"True. Still I remember he danced three times with her at Madame de Morcerf's. Do you recollect that ball, count, where you produced such an effect?" 
"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo, without even knowing of what or to whom he was speaking, so much was he occupied in watching Morrel, who was holding his breath with emotion. "The discourse is over; farewell, gentlemen," said the count. And he disappeared without anyone seeing whither he went. The funeral being over, the guests returned to Paris. Chateau-Renaud looked for a moment for Morrel; but while they were watching the departure of the count, Morrel had quitted his post, and Chateau-Renaud, failing in his search, joined Debray and Beauchamp. 
Monte Cristo concealed himself behind a large tomb and awaited the arrival of Morrel, who by degrees approached the tomb now abandoned by spectators and workmen. Morrel threw a glance around, but before it reached the spot occupied by Monte Cristo the latter had advanced yet nearer, still unperceived. The young man knelt down. The count, with outstretched neck and glaring eyes, stood in an attitude ready to pounce upon Morrel upon the first occasion. Morrel bent his head till it touched the stone, then clutching the grating with both hands, he murmured,--"Oh, Valentine!" The count's heart was pierced by the utterance of these two words; he stepped forward, and touching the young man's shoulder, said,--"I was looking for you, my friend." Monte Cristo expected a burst of passion, but he was deceived, for Morrel turning round, said calmly,-- 
"You see I was praying." The scrutinizing glance of the count searched the young man from head to foot. He then seemed more easy. 
"Shall I drive you back to Paris?" he asked. 
"No, thank you." 
"Do you wish anything?" 
"Leave me to pray." The count withdrew without opposition, but it was only to place himself in a situation where he could watch every movement of Morrel, who at length arose, brushed the dust from his knees, and turned towards Paris, without once looking back. He walked slowly down the Rue de la Roquette. The count, dismissing his carriage, followed him about a hundred paces behind. Maximilian crossed the canal and entered the Rue Meslay by the boulevards. Five minutes after the door had been closed on Morrel's entrance, it was again opened for the count. Julie was at the entrance of the garden, where she was attentively watching Penelon, who, entering with zeal into his profession of gardener, was very busy grafting some Bengal roses. "Ah, count," she exclaimed, with the delight manifested by every member of the family whenever he visited the Rue Meslay. 
"Maximilian has just returned, has he not, madame?" asked the count. 
"Yes, I think I saw him pass; but pray, call Emmanuel." 
"Excuse me, madame, but I must go up to Maximilian's room this instant," replied Monte Cristo, "I have something of the greatest importance to tell him." 
"Go, then," she said with a charming smile, which accompanied him until he had disappeared. Monte Cristo soon ran up the staircase conducting from the ground-floor to Maximilian's room; when he reached the landing he listened attentively, but all was still. Like many old houses occupied by a single family, the room door was panelled with glass; but it was locked, Maximilian was shut in, and it was impossible to see what was passing in the room, because a red curtain was drawn before the glass. The count's anxiety was manifested by a bright color which seldom appeared on the face of that imperturbable man. 
"What shall I do!" he uttered, and reflected for a moment; "shall I ring? No, the sound of a bell, announcing a visitor, will but accelerate the resolution of one in Maximilian's situation, and then the bell would be followed by a louder noise." Monte Cristo trembled from head to foot and as if his determination had been taken with the rapidity of lightning, he struck one of the panes of glass with his elbow; the glass was shivered to atoms, then withdrawing the curtain he saw Morrel, who had been writing at his desk, bound from his seat at the noise of the broken window. 
"I beg a thousand pardons," said the count, "there is nothing the matter, but I slipped down and broke one of your panes of glass with my elbow. Since it is opened, I will take advantage of it to enter your room; do not disturb yourself--do not disturb yourself!" And passing his hand through the broken glass, the count opened the door. Morrel, evidently discomposed, came to meet Monte Cristo less with the intention of receiving him than to exclude his entry. 
"Ma foi!" said Monte Cristo, rubbing his elbow, "it's all your servant's fault; your stairs are so polished, it is like walking on glass." 
"Are you hurt, sir?" coldly asked Morrel. 
"I believe not. But what are you about there? You were writing." 
"I?" 
"Your fingers are stained with ink." 
"Ah, true, I was writing. I do sometimes, soldier though I am." 
Monte Cristo advanced into the room; Maximilian was obliged to let him pass, but he followed him. "You were writing?" said Monte Cristo with a searching look. 
"I have already had the honor of telling you I was," said Morrel. 
The count looked around him. "Your pistols are beside your desk," said Monte Cristo, pointing with his finger to the pistols on the table. 
"I am on the point of starting on a journey," replied Morrel disdainfully. 
"My friend," exclaimed Monte Cristo in a tone of exquisite sweetness. 
"Sir?" 
"My friend, my dear Maximilian, do not make a hasty resolution, I entreat you." 
"I make a hasty resolution?" said Morrel, shrugging his shoulders; "is there anything extraordinary in a journey?" 
"Maximilian," said the count, "let us both lay aside the mask we have assumed. You no more deceive me with that false calmness than I impose upon you with my frivolous solicitude. You can understand, can you not, that to have acted as I have done, to have broken that glass, to have intruded on the solitude of a friend--you can understand that, to have done all this, I must have been actuated by real uneasiness, or rather by a terrible conviction. Morrel, you are going to destroy yourself!" 
"Indeed, count," said Morrel, shuddering; "what has put this into your head?" 
"I tell you that you are about to destroy yourself," continued the count, "and here is proof of what I say;" and, approaching the desk, he removed the sheet of paper which Morrel had placed over the letter he had begun, and took the latter in his hands. 
Morrel rushed forward to tear it from him, but Monte Cristo perceiving his intention, seized his wrist with his iron grasp. "You wish to destroy yourself," said the count; "you have written it." 
"Well," said Morrel, changing his expression of calmness for one of violence--"well, and if I do intend to turn this pistol against myself, who shall prevent me--who will dare prevent me? All my hopes are blighted, my heart is broken, my life a burden, everything around me is sad and mournful; earth has become distasteful to me, and human voices distract me. It is a mercy to let me die, for if I live I shall lose my reason and become mad. When, sir, I tell you all this with tears of heartfelt anguish, can you reply that I am wrong, can you prevent my putting an end to my miserable existence? Tell me, sir, could you have the courage to do so?" 
"Yes, Morrel," said Monte Cristo, with a calmness which contrasted strangely with the young man's excitement; "yes, I would do so." 
"You?" exclaimed Morrel, with increasing anger and reproach--"you, who have deceived me with false hopes, who have cheered and soothed me with vain promises, when I might, if not have saved her, at least have seen her die in my arms! You, who pretend to understand everything, even the hidden sources of knowledge,--and who enact the part of a guardian angel upon earth, and could not even find an antidote to a poison administered to a young girl! Ah, sir, indeed you would inspire me with pity, were you not hateful in my eyes." 
"Morrel"-- 
"Yes; you tell me to lay aside the mask, and I will do so, be satisfied! When you spoke to me at the cemetery, I answered you--my heart was softened; when you arrived here, I allowed you to enter. But since you abuse my confidence, since you have devised a new torture after I thought I had exhausted them all, then, Count of Monte Cristo my pretended benefactor--then, Count of Monte Cristo, the universal guardian, be satisfied, you shall witness the death of your friend;" and Morrel, with a maniacal laugh, again rushed towards the pistols. 
"And I again repeat, you shall not commit suicide." 
"Prevent me, then!" replied Morrel, with another struggle, which, like the first, failed in releasing him from the count's iron grasp. 
"I will prevent you." 
"And who are you, then, that arrogate to yourself this tyrannical right over free and rational beings?" 
"Who am I?" repeated Monte Cristo. "Listen; I am the only man in the world having the right to say to you, 'Morrel, your father's son shall not die to-day;'" and Monte Cristo, with an expression of majesty and sublimity, advanced with arms folded toward the young man, who, involuntarily overcome by the commanding manner of this man, recoiled a step. 
"Why do you mention my father?" stammered he; "why do you mingle a recollection of him with the affairs of today?" 
"Because I am he who saved your father's life when he wished to destroy himself, as you do to-day--because I am the man who sent the purse to your young sister, and the Pharaon to old Morrel--because I am the Edmond Dantès who nursed you, a child, on my knees." Morrel made another step back, staggering, breathless, crushed; then all his strength give way, and he fell prostrate at the feet of Monte Cristo. Then his admirable nature underwent a complete and sudden revulsion; he arose, rushed out of the room and to the stairs, exclaiming energetically, "Julie, Julie--Emmanuel, Emmanuel!" 
Monte Cristo endeavored also to leave, but Maximilian would have died rather than relax his hold of the handle of the door, which he closed upon the count. Julie, Emmanuel, and some of the servants, ran up in alarm on hearing the cries of Maximilian. Morrel seized their hands, and opening the door exclaimed in a voice choked with sobs, "On your knees--on your knees--he is our benefactor--the saviour of our father! He is"-- 
He would have added "Edmond Dantès," but the count seized his arm and prevented him. Julie threw herself into the arms of the count; Emmanuel embraced him as a guardian angel; Morrel again fell on his knees, and struck the ground with his forehead. Then the iron-hearted man felt his heart swell in his breast; a flame seemed to rush from his throat to his eyes, he bent his head and wept. For a while nothing was heard in the room but a succession of sobs, while the incense from their grateful hearts mounted to heaven. Julie had scarcely recovered from her deep emotion when she rushed out of the room, descended to the next floor, ran into the drawing-room with childlike joy and raised the crystal globe which covered the purse given by the unknown of the Allées de Meillan. Meanwhile, Emmanuel in a broken voice said to the count, "Oh, count, how could you, hearing us so often speak of our unknown benefactor, seeing us pay such homage of gratitude and adoration to his memory,--how could you continue so long without discovering yourself to us? Oh, it was cruel to us, and--dare I say it?--to you also." 
"Listen, my friends," said the count--"I may call you so since we have really been friends for the last eleven years--the discovery of this secret has been occasioned by a great event which you must never know. I wish to bury it during my whole life in my own bosom, but your brother Maximilian wrested it from me by a violence he repents of now, I am sure." Then turning around, and seeing that Morrel, still on his knees, had thrown himself into an arm-chair, be added in a low voice, pressing Emmanuel's hand significantly, "Watch over him." 
"Why so?" asked the young man, surprised. 
"I cannot explain myself; but watch over him." Emmanuel looked around the room and caught sight of the pistols; his eyes rested on the weapons, and he pointed to them. Monte Cristo bent his head. Emmanuel went towards the pistols. "Leave them," said Monte Cristo. Then walking towards Morrel, he took his hand; the tumultuous agitation of the young man was succeeded by a profound stupor. Julie returned, holding the silken purse in her hands, while tears of joy rolled down her cheeks, like dewdrops on the rose. 
"Here is the relic," she said; "do not think it will be less dear to us now we are acquainted with our benefactor!" 
"My child," said Monte Cristo, coloring, "allow me to take back that purse? Since you now know my face, I wish to be remembered alone through the affection I hope you will grant me. 
"Oh," said Julie, pressing the purse to her heart, "no, no, I beseech you do not take it, for some unhappy day you will leave us, will you not?" 
"You have guessed rightly, madame," replied Monte Cristo, smiling; "in a week I shall have left this country, where so many persons who merit the vengeance of heaven lived happily, while my father perished of hunger and grief." While announcing his departure, the count fixed his eyes on Morrel, and remarked that the words, "I shall have left this country," had failed to rouse him from his lethargy. He then saw that he must make another struggle against the grief of his friend, and taking the hands of Emmanuel and Julie, which he pressed within his own, he said with the mild authority of a father, "My kind friends, leave me alone with Maximilian." Julie saw the means offered of carrying off her precious relic, which Monte Cristo had forgotten. She drew her husband to the door. "Let us leave them," she said. The count was alone with Morrel, who remained motionless as a statue. 
"Come," said Monte-Cristo, touching his shoulder with his finger, "are you a man again, Maximilian?" 
"Yes; for I begin to suffer again." 
The count frowned, apparently in gloomy hesitation. 
"Maximilian, Maximilian," he said, "the ideas you yield to are unworthy of a Christian." 
"Oh, do not fear, my friend," said Morrel, raising his head, and smiling with a sweet expression on the count; "I shall no longer attempt my life." 
"Then we are to have no more pistols--no more despair?" 
"No; I have found a better remedy for my grief than either a bullet or a knife." 
"Poor fellow, what is it?" 
"My grief will kill me of itself." 
"My friend," said Monte Cristo, with an expression of melancholy equal to his own, "listen to me. One day, in a moment of despair like yours, since it led to a similar resolution, I also wished to kill myself; one day your father, equally desperate, wished to kill himself too. If any one had said to your father, at the moment he raised the pistol to his head--if any one had told me, when in my prison I pushed back the food I had not tasted for three days--if anyone had said to either of us then, 'Live--the day will come when you will be happy, and will bless life!'--no matter whose voice had spoken, we should have heard him with the smile of doubt, or the anguish of incredulity,--and yet how many times has your father blessed life while embracing you--how often have I myself" -- 
"Ah," exclaimed Morrel, interrupting the count, "you had only lost your liberty, my father had only lost his fortune, but I have lost Valentine." 
"Look at me," said Monte Cristo, with that expression which sometimes made him so eloquent and persuasive--"look at me. There are no tears in my eyes, nor is there fever in my veins, yet I see you suffer--you, Maximilian, whom I love as my own son. Well, does not this tell you that in grief, as in life, there is always something to look forward to beyond? Now, if I entreat, if I order you to live, Morrel, it is in the conviction that one day you will thank me for having preserved your life." 
"Oh, heavens," said the young man, "oh, heavens--what are you saying, count? Take care. But perhaps you have never loved!" 
"Child!" replied the count. 
"I mean, as I love. You see, I have been a soldier ever since I attained manhood. I reached the age of twenty-nine without loving, for none of the feelings I before then experienced merit the apellation of love. Well, at twenty-nine I saw Valentine; for two years I have loved her, for two years I have seen written in her heart, as in a book, all the virtues of a daughter and wife. Count, to possess Valentine would have been a happiness too infinite, too ecstatic, too complete, too divine for this world, since it has been denied me; but without Valentine the earth is desolate." 
"I have told you to hope," said the count. 
"Then have a care, I repeat, for you seek to persuade me, and if you succeed I should lose my reason, for I should hope that I could again behold Valentine." The count smiled. "My friend, my father," said Morrel with excitement, "have a care, I again repeat, for the power you wield over me alarms me. Weigh your words before you speak, for my eyes have already become brighter, and my heart beats strongly; be cautious, or you will make me believe in supernatural agencies. I must obey you, though you bade me call forth the dead or walk upon the water." 
"Hope, my friend," repeated the count. 
"Ah," said Morrel, falling from the height of excitement to the abyss of despair--"ah, you are playing with me, like those good, or rather selfish mothers who soothe their children with honeyed words, because their screams annoy them. No, my friend, I was wrong to caution you; do not fear, I will bury my grief so deep in my heart, I will disguise it so, that you shall not even care to sympathize with me. Adieu, my friend, adieu!" 
"On the contrary," said the count, "after this time you must live with me--you must not leave me, and in a week we shall have left France behind us." 
"And you still bid me hope?" 
"I tell you to hope, because I have a method of curing you." 
"Count, you render me sadder than before, if it be possible. You think the result of this blow has been to produce an ordinary grief, and you would cure it by an ordinary remedy--change of scene." And Morrel dropped his head with disdainful incredulity. "What can I say more?" asked Monte Cristo. "I have confidence in the remedy I propose, and only ask you to permit me to assure you of its efficacy." 
"Count, you prolong my agony." 
"Then," said the count, "your feeble spirit will not even grant me the trial I request? Come--do you know of what the Count of Monte Cristo is capable? do you know that he holds terrestrial beings under his control? nay, that he can almost work a miracle? Well, wait for the miracle I hope to accomplish, or"-- 
"Or?" repeated Morrel. 
"Or, take care, Morrel, lest I call you ungrateful." 
"Have pity on me, count!" 
"I feel so much pity towards you, Maximilian, that--listen to me attentively--if I do not cure you in a month, to the day, to the very hour, mark my words, Morrel, I will place loaded pistols before you, and a cup of the deadliest Italian poison--a poison more sure and prompt than that which has killed Valentine." 
"Will you promise me?" 
"Yes; for I am a man, and have suffered like yourself, and also contemplated suicide; indeed, often since misfortune has left me I have longed for the delights of an eternal sleep." 
"But you are sure you will promise me this?" said Morrel, intoxicated. "I not only promise, but swear it!" said Monte Cristo extending his hand. 
"In a month, then, on your honor, if I am not consoled, you will let me take my life into my own hands, and whatever may happen you will not call me ungrateful?" 
"In a month, to the day, the very hour and the date are sacred, Maximilian. I do not know whether you remember that this is the 5th of September; it is ten years to-day since I saved your father's life, who wished to die." Morrel seized the count's hand and kissed it; the count allowed him to pay the homage he felt due to him. "In a month you will find on the table, at which we shall be then sitting, good pistols and a delicious draught; but, on the other hand, you must promise me not to attempt your life before that time." 
"Oh, I also swear it!" Monte Cristo drew the young man towards him, and pressed him for some time to his heart. "And now," he said, "after to-day, you will come and live with me; you can occupy Haidée's apartment, and my daughter will at least be replaced by my son." 
"Haidée?" said Morrel, "what has become of her?" 
"She departed last night." 
"To leave you?" 
"To wait for me. Hold yourself ready then to join me at the Champs Elysées, and lead me out of this house without any one seeing my departure." Maximilian hung his head, and obeyed with childlike reverence.  
波维里先生确实曾在路上遇到过送瓦朗蒂娜去最后归宿的行列。天空阴霾多云。一阵寒风吹过，树枝上残剩的黄叶，被吹得散落在那塞满马路的人群中间。维尔福先生是一个十足的巴黎人，他认为只有拉雪兹神父墓地才配得上接受一个巴黎家庭成员的遗体，只有在那儿，死者的灵魂才能得到真正的安息。所以他在那儿买下了一块永久性墓地，很快那坟地被他的家属占据了。墓碑的下面刻着“圣·米兰维尔福家族”，因为这是可怜的丽妮——瓦朗蒂娜的母亲——临终时最后的愿望。所以那庄严的送殡行列就从圣·奥诺路出发向拉雪兹神父墓地前进。队伍横越过巴黎市区以后，穿过寺院路，然后离开郊外的马路，到达坟场。打头的是三十辆丧车，五十多辆私家马车跟在后面，在马车后面，跟着五百多个步行的人。最后这一群人都是青年男女，瓦朗蒂娜的死对他们无疑是晴天霹雳；天气虽然阴沉寒冷，仍不能阻止人送那美丽、纯洁、可爱、在这如花之年夭折的姑娘。离开巴黎市区时候，突然一辆由四匹马拉的车疾驶而来，马车里的人是基督山。伯爵从车子里出来，混在步行的人群里。夏多·勒诺看见他，便立刻从自己四轮马车上下来，去和他走在一起。波尚也离开他所乘的那辆轻便马车走过来。伯爵在人丛里仔细地看来看去，他显然在找人。“莫雷尔在哪儿？”他问道，“你们谁知道他在哪儿吗？” 
“我们在丧家吊唁时就已经问过这个问题了，”夏多·勒诺说，“因为我们中间没有见过他。” 
伯爵一声不吭，但继续向四下里瞧着。送殡行列到达坟场了。基督山那敏锐的目光突然向树丛里望去，不一会他焦急不安的神情消失了，因为他看见一个人影在紫杉树间闪过，并认出那个人影就是他要找的人。 
在这个豪华的大都市里的丧葬情形，人家想必都知道。黑压压的人群分散地站在白色的墓道上，天地间一片寂静，只有那围绕墓碑的篱笆竹偶尔的折断声打破寂静，然后神父用抑郁而单调的声调诵经，其中还不时杂着一声女人发出来的啜泣声。基督山注意到的那个人影迅速绕到亚比拉和哀绿伊丝［指法国神学家亚比拉（一○七九—一一四二）和他所恋爱的少女哀绿伊丝。——译注］的坟墓后面，到柩车的马头旁边，与死者的几个仆人一同到达指定的墓穴跟前。人们的注意力都集中在墓穴上。基督山却只注意那个人影。伯爵有两次走出行列，为的是看清他所关切的那个人究竟有没有在衣服底下藏着武器。当殡葬行列停下的时候，可以看清那个人是莫雷尔。黑色礼服的纽扣一直扣到颔下。他脸色苍白，痉挛的手指紧紧地抓住帽子，站到一块可以看清坟墓的高地上，斜靠在一棵树上，看着入穴的每一个细节。一切进行正常。某些不易动情的人象往常一样发表一些演讲——有的对逝者的夭折，表示同情，有的就父亲的伤心侃侃而谈；有些自以为非常聪明的人还说，这个青年女郎曾几次向她的父亲求情，求他宽恕那些即将受法律惩处的罪犯；这样一直讲到他们耗尽他们那些丰美的词藻为止。 
基督山什么也没有听，什么也没有看见，或是，说得准确些，他只注意莫雷尔，莫雷尔那种镇定的态度他那些知道他心事的人看着都忍不住异常担心。 
“看，”波尚指一指莫雷尔，对德布雷说，“他在那儿干什么？” 
“他的脸色真苍白呀！”夏多·勒诺说，不禁打了一个寒颤。 
“他受凉了！”德布雷说。 
“决不是的，”夏多·勒诺慢慢地说，“我想他是心里一定非常难受。他一向是非常多愁善感的。” 
“唉！”德布雷说，“你说过他不认识维尔福小姐呀！怎么会为她伤心呢？” 
“不错，可是，我记得他曾在马尔塞夫夫人家里和维尔福小姐跳过三次舞。您还记得那次舞会吗，伯爵？您在那次跳舞会上那样引人注目。” 
“不，我记不得了，”基督山回答，他根本不知道他们在说什么，——他正全神贯注地注意着莫雷尔，莫雷尔好象激动得呼吸都停止了。“演讲完了，再会，诸位，”伯爵说。他转身走了，但没有人看见他到哪儿去了。葬礼结束了，来宾们纷纷回巴黎去。夏多·勒诺四寻找莫雷尔，当他在寻找伯爵的时候，莫雷尔已经挪了地方，夏多·勒诺再回头已不见了莫雷尔，便去追上德布雷和波尚。 
基督山躲在一座大坟后面等着莫雷尔；莫雷尔走近那座刚建好但已被旁观者和工匠所遗弃的坟墓。他神情茫然地向四周环顾，当他的目光离开基督山所躲藏的那个圆形墓地，基督山已走到离他十来步远的地方，年青人却仍没有发现他。年轻人在墓前跪了下来。伯爵走到莫雷尔身后，伸长脖子，他膝盖弯曲，象是随时都会扑到莫雷尔身上去的，莫雷尔低着头，直到头接触到石板，然后双手抓住栅栏，他喃喃说道：“噢，瓦朗蒂娜哪！” 
这几个字使伯爵的心都碎了，他走上去，扶住那青年人的肩头，说：“是你，亲爱的朋友，我正在找你。” 
基督山本来以为莫雷尔一看到他会痛哭流涕，会对他大发雷霆，但他错了，莫雷尔回过头来，很平静的对他说：“你看见了我在祈祷。” 
伯爵用疑惑的眼光把那年轻人从头到脚打量了一番。然后他似乎比较放心了。“要我用车子送你回巴黎吗？”他问。 
“不，谢谢你。” 
“你要干什么吗？” 
“让我祈祷。” 
伯爵并不反对，他只躲到一边，注视着莫雷尔的一举一动。莫雷尔终于站起来，拂去膝头的灰尘，然后头也不回地走上回巴黎的路。他顺着罗琪里路慢慢向回走。伯爵不乘马车，在他的身后约一百步左右步行尾随着他。马西米兰穿过运河，沿着林荫大道折回了密斯雷路。莫雷尔到家五分钟以后，伯爵便赶到了。尤莉站在花园的进口，全神贯注地看园丁为一棵孟加拉玫瑰接枝。“啊，基督山伯爵！”她喊道。他每次来访问密斯雷路的时候，这个家庭里的每一个成员都会这么欢喜他。 
“马西米兰刚才回来，是吗，夫人？”伯爵问道。 
“是的，我好象看见他进去的，要不要去叫艾曼纽来呀。” 
“对不起，夫人，我必须马上到马西米兰的房间里去，”基督山答道，“我有重要的事情要告诉他。” 
“那么请吧。”她微笑着说，目送他消失在楼梯口。基督山奔上通到马西米兰房间去的楼梯；到了楼梯顶以后，他留神倾听，但没有任何动静。跟许多独家住的老屋一样，这儿的房门上装着玻璃格子。房门闩着，马西米兰把自己关在房间里，玻璃格后面遮着红色的门帘。无法知道他在房间里干什么，伯爵脸都红了，象伯爵这样一个有铁石一般心肠的人是不容易动情的。“我怎么办呢？”他不安地自语。他想了一会儿。“我拉铃吗？不，铃声只会使马西米兰实行他的行动，那时铃声就会由另一种声音来回答。”他浑身发抖，他情急智生，用手臂撞碎了一格玻璃，随后他拨开门帘，看见莫雷尔伏在书桌上写东西，听到玻璃格破碎的声音，他从座位上跳了起来。 
“一千个对不起！”伯爵说，“没有什么，只是我滑了一下，我的手肘不小心拦破了一格玻璃。既然玻璃打破了，来你的房间里对你讲吧。你不必惊惶！”伯爵从那打破的玻璃格里伸进手来，打开了那房门。 
莫雷尔神情不快地向基督山迎上来，但他不是来迎接他，而是要阻止他进来。 
“嘿！”基督山擦着自己的手肘说，“这是你仆人的过错，把你的楼梯擦得这样滑，就象走在玻璃上一样。” 
“你碰伤了吗，阁下？”莫雷尔冷冷地问。 
“我想没有。你在写什么呀？你在写文章吗？” 
“我？” 
“你的手指上染着墨水。” 
“啊，不错，我在写东西。我虽然是一个军人，有的时候却喜欢动动笔。” 
基督山走进房间里，马西米兰无法阻止他了，但他跟在伯爵身后。 
“你在写文章吗？”基督山又用目光逼视着对方。 
“我已经告诉过你了。”莫雷尔说。 
伯爵向四周看了一下。“你的手枪怎么放在写字台上？”基督山指着书桌上的手枪说。 
“我就要出门去旅行了。”莫雷尔答道。 
“我的朋友！”基督山用一种非常友好口吻喊道。 
“阁下！” 
“我的朋友，我亲爱的马西米兰，不要作匆忙的决定，我求求你。” 
“我作匆忙的决定？”莫雷尔耸耸肩说，“出门去旅行一次有什么奇怪呢？” 
“马西米兰，”伯爵说，“让我们放下我们的假面具。你不要再用那种假镇定来骗我，我也不用再对你装出儿戏式的关怀。你当然明白我刚才撞破玻窗，打扰一位朋友，我这所以这么做，正是因为我怀着极度的不安，或者说得更确切些，是怀着一种可怕的确信。莫雷尔，你想自杀！” 
“伯爵！”莫雷尔打了一个寒颤说，“你怎么会有这种想法？” 
“我告诉你，你是想自杀，”伯爵继续说，“这就是证据。” 
他走到写字台前，把莫雷尔遮住的那张纸拿开，把那封信拿在手里。 
莫雷尔冲上来抢那封信，但基督山看出他会这么做，用他有力的手抓住他的手。“你看，你想自杀，”伯爵说，“你已经把这念头写在纸上了。” 
“好吧！”莫雷尔说，他的表情又从疯狂的激动变为平静，——“好吧，即使我想用这支手枪自杀，谁能阻止我？谁敢阻止我？当我说，我生命的全部希望已熄灭，我的心已经死了。我的生命之火熄灭了，周围的一切都让我伤心，地球已变成灰烬，每一个人的声音都伤害我，当我说，让我死是慈悲，假如我活下去，我就会因丧失理智而发疯，阁下，告诉我，——当听了这一番话以后，谁还会对我说‘你错了’。还有谁会来尝试阻止我去死呢！告诉我，阁下，难道你有那种勇气吗？” 
“是的，莫雷尔，”基督山说，他的态度非常坚定，与那年轻人激动异常，成为一个明显的对照，——“是的，我要那样做。” 
“你！”莫雷尔愤怒地喊道，——“你，当我还可以救她，或者可以看着她死在我怀里的时候，你来欺骗我，用空洞的诺言来鼓励和安慰我。你，你假装无所不知，无所不能，你扮演上帝，却不能救一个年轻的姑娘！啊！说老实话，阁下，如果你不是让我看了觉得可怕的话，我简直会觉得你很可怜！” 
“莫雷尔！” 
“你叫我放下假面具，我不改变主意，请放心吧！当你在她的坟前跟我说话的时候，我回答了你，那是因为我的心软了，你到这儿来的时候，我让你进来。既然你得寸进尺，既然你到我这个作为坟墓用的房间里来激怒我，我已经受尽人间痛苦以后，你又为我设计出一种新的苦刑，——那么假装做我的恩人的基督山伯爵呀，人间天使的基督山伯爵呀，你可以满意了，你目睹一位朋友的死吧。”说着，莫雷尔狂笑着扑过去拿那支手枪。 
基督山脸色惨白，但他的眼睛闪闪发光，他用手压住手枪，对狂疯的人说：“我再对你说一遍，你不能自杀。” 
“你还想阻止我，”莫雷尔回答，挣扎着要摆脱伯爵的手，但象第一次一样，他的挣扎徒劳无用。 
“那么你认为你是谁，竟敢用这种暴虐的态度对待自由而理智的人？” 
“我是谁？”基督山重复道，“听着，在这个世界上，只有我有权利可以对你说：‘莫雷尔，你父亲的儿子不应该死在今天。’”基督山两臂交叉，神情庄严地向那年轻人迎上去，他看上去是那么崇高那么神圣，年轻人不由自主地在这种近乎神圣的威严面前屈服了，他后退了一步。 
“你为什么要提到我的父亲？”他结结巴巴地问，“你为什么要把他和今天的事情混在一起！” 
“因为当你的父亲象你今天这样要自杀的时候，阻止了他的，就是我。送钱袋给你的妹妹，送埃及王号给老莫雷尔先生的，就是我。因为我就是那个当你还是一个小孩子的时候就把你抱在膝头上玩的爱德蒙·唐太斯。” 
莫雷尔由于震惊几乎透不过气来，他踉踉跄跄地倒退了一步；他再也支持不住了，大叫一声俯伏到基督山脚下。然后，他又立刻爬起来，冲向房门，在楼梯顶上放开嗓子大喊：“尤莉，尤莉！艾曼纽！艾曼纽！” 
基督山想出来，但马西米兰住门不让伯爵出来，宁死也不肯放松门柄。尤莉、艾曼纽和那个仆人听到马西米兰的喊声，便惊怕失措地奔上来。莫雷尔拉着他们的手，把门推开，用一种呜咽声音喊道：“跪下，跪下！他是我们的恩人！是我们父亲的救命恩人，他是——” 
他本来还想说出“爱德蒙·唐太斯”这个名字，但伯爵抓住他的手臂，阻止了他。尤莉扑到伯爵的怀抱里；艾曼纽热情地拥抱他；莫雷尔又跪下来，用他的额头碰地板。那时，那个意志坚强的人觉得他的心膨胀起来；喉部似乎有一道火焰冲上眼睛；他低下头哭泣起来。一时间，房间里只听见继续啜泣声，尤莉激动异常，她冲出房间，奔到楼下，跑进客厅，揭开水晶罩，取出米兰巷她的恩人送给他的那只钱袋。 
这时，艾曼纽用哽咽的声音对伯爵说：“噢，伯爵，您怎么能这样忍心呢？您常听我们谈起我们的恩人，常常看见我们这样感激他，崇拜他，您怎么忍心对我们隐瞒真相呢？噢，这对我们是太残酷了，而且——我敢这样说吗？——对您自己也太残酷了！” 
“听着，我的朋友，”伯爵说，“我可以这样称呼你，因为你虽然不知道，实际上却已经和我做了十一年的朋友，——这个秘密的泄露，是由于一件你不知道的大事引出来的。上帝作证，我本来希望终生保留这个秘密，但你的内兄玛西米兰用过火的语言逼我讲了出来，他现在一定后悔当时的举动。”他转过头去看着莫雷尔，莫雷尔仍跪在地上，但已把头伏在一张圈椅里，他便含有深意地握一握艾曼纽的手，又低声说，“留心他。” 
“为什么？”艾曼纽惊奇地问。 
“我不能明说，但留心他。” 
艾曼纽向房间里看了看，看见手枪放在桌子上；他的眼光停留在了它上面，他用手指了一指。基督山点了点头。艾曼纽走过去拿手枪。 
“随它放在那儿好了，”基督山说。他向莫雷尔走过去，抓住他的手，那年轻人的心在极度的激动以后陷入了一种麻木状态。尤莉跑回来了，双手捧着那只丝带织成的钱袋，欢喜的泪珠一串串地滚下她的两颊。 
“这是纪念品，”她说，“我不会因为认识了我们的恩人就减少对它的珍视！” 
“我的孩子，”基督山的脸红了，“允许我拿回那只钱袋吧。你们现在既然已经认识我，我只希望你们心里时时能想起我就行了。” 
“噢，”尤莉把钱袋紧紧地搂在怀里说，“不，不，我求求您，不要把它带走，因为在某一日子，您要离开我们的，是吗？” 
“你猜对了，夫人，”基督山微笑着答道，“在一星期之内，我就要离开这个国家了，因为在这里，许多应惩罚的人过着快乐的生活，而我的父亲却在饥愁交迫中去世。” 
当他说要离开的时候，伯爵看看莫雷尔，他发现“我就要离开这个国家”这几个字并不能把他从麻木状态中唤醒。他知道必须用另一种方法来帮他的朋友抑制悲哀，便握住艾曼纽和尤莉的手，用一个只有父亲能有的温和而威严的口吻说：“我的好朋友，让我单独和马西米兰呆一会。” 
尤莉看到基督山不留意那只钱袋，她可以带走她那宝贵的纪念物了，便拉她的丈夫到门口。“我们离开他们吧。”她说。 
房间里只剩下伯爵和莫雷尔了，莫雷尔仍象石像似的一动不动。 
“来，”基督山用手指碰了碰他的肩膀说，“你总算又变成男子汉了，马西米兰？” 
“是的，因为我又开始痛苦了。” 
伯爵皱了皱眉头，犹豫说。“马西米兰，马西米兰，”他说，“你心里的念头不是一个基督徒所应有的。” 
“噢，不必怕，我的朋友，”莫雷尔说，他抬起头来，向伯爵露出一个伤心的微笑，“我不想自杀了。” 
“那么你用不着手枪，也用不着绝望了。” 
“用不着了，要治愈我的悲哀，有一种比子弹或小刀更好的办法。” 
“可怜的人，那是什么？” 
“我的悲哀会使我死去！” 
“我的朋友，”基督山同样忧郁的说，“听我说。以前有一天，我跟你现在一样绝望，我下过象你一样的决心，想自杀，以前有一天，你的父亲在同样绝望的时候，也希望自杀。假如当你的父亲举起手枪准备自杀的时候，当我在监狱里三天不曾吃东西的时候，有人来对他或对我说：“活下去，将来有一天，你会快乐，会赞美生活的！’——不论那些话是谁说的，我们听了总觉得不可思议而且感到难以相信的痛苦，可是，当你父亲在拥抱你的时候，他曾多少次赞美生活呀！我自己也曾多少次——” 
“啊！”莫雷尔打断伯爵的话叹道，“你只丧失了你的自由，家父只丧失了他的财产，但是我——我失去了瓦朗蒂娜。” 
“看看我，莫雷尔，”基督山庄严地说，这种庄严的态度使他看来是这样的伟大，证人没法不信服他，——“看看我，我的眼睛里没有眼泪，我的情绪并不狂热，可是我却眼看着你在痛苦——你，马西米兰，我是把你当作我自己的儿子一样看待的。嗯，这不是在告诉你：悲哀也象生活一样，总是伴随着一些你意想不到的事情吗？现在，假如我求你活下去的话，莫雷尔，那是因为我相信，将来有一天，你会感谢我保全你的生命的。” 
“那青年说，“噢，天哪！你在说什么呀，伯爵？留点神，或许你从来没有恋爱过！” 
“孩子！”伯爵回答。 
“我是指象我这样的恋爱。你看，我成年以后，就是一个军人。我到二十九岁没有恋爱过，在那以前，我所体验的情感没有一种称为爱情。嗯，在二十九岁的时候，我遇见了瓦朗蒂娜，我爱上了她，在两年的期间内，我从她的身上看见了为妻为女的一切美德，就象写在纸上一样，伯爵，拥有了瓦朗镑娜将是一种无限的、空前的幸福，——一种在世界上太大、太完整、太超凡的幸福。既然这个世界不允许我得到这个幸福，伯爵，失掉了瓦朗蒂娜，世界所留给我的就只有绝望和凄凉了。” 
“我告诉你，要抱有希望。”伯爵说。 
“那么，我再说一遍：留点神，因为你想得说服我，假如你成功了，我便会失去理智，因为要劝服我，除非使我想信我还能再得到瓦朗蒂娜。” 
伯爵微笑了一下。 
“我的朋友，我的父亲，”莫雷尔兴奋地喊道：“我第三次再声明：留点神，因为你对我的影响太大了。你在说话以前先想好，因为我的眼睛又有神了，我的心又复活了。留点神，因为你是在让我相信那些神乎其神的事。如果你吩咐我掘起那埋葬睚鲁［传说耶稣使他的女儿复活。——译注］之女的墓石，我就会去做。假如你指示我方向，吩咐我象圣徒那样在大海的波浪上行走，我也会服从你，留神哪，什么都会服从你的。” 
“要抱有希望吧，我的朋友。”伯爵仍旧说。 
“啊，”莫雷尔说，情绪顿时兴奋的高峰跌回到绝望的深谷——“啊，你在逗我，象那些善良而自私的母亲用甜言蜜语哄她们的孩子一样，因为孩子的哭喊使她们感到烦恼。不，我的朋友，我要你留神是不对的。不用怕，我将把我的痛苦埋在我心灵的深处，我会让它成为秘密，甚至连你不必怜悯我。别了，我的朋友，别了！” 
“正相反，”伯爵说．“从此刻起，你必须得和我住在一起，——你一定不能离开我，在一星期之内，我们就要离开法国了。” 
“仍然要我抱有希望吗？” 
“我告诉你应该抱有希望，因为我知道一种方法可以医治你。” 
“伯爵，如果可能的话，你这样只能使我比以前更伤心了。你以为这只是一种普通的打击，你可以用一种普通的方法——改换环境——来医好它。”于是莫雷尔以鄙夷不屑的怀疑摇摇头。 
“我还能说什么呢？”基督山问道。“我对于我的方法很有信心，求你允许我来试一试。” 
“伯爵，你只会使我痛苦拖得更长。” 
“那么”伯爵说，“你的心就那么脆弱，甚至连给我一个尝试的勇气都没有吗？来！你可知道基督山伯爵能力有多大？你可知道他掌握着多少权力？你可知道他多少信心可以从上帝那儿获得奇迹？上帝说，人有信仰，可以移山。嗯，等一等吧，那个奇迹抱有希望，不然——不然，小心哪，莫雷尔，否则要说你忘恩负义了。” 
“可怜可怜我吧，伯爵！” 
“我对你是这样的同情，马西米兰，请听我说，如果我不能在一个月以内医好你，则到那一天，到那个时候，注意我的话，莫雷尔，我就把手枪放在你的面前，另外再给你一杯最厉害的意大利毒药——一种比杀死瓦朗蒂娜的毒药更有效更迅速的毒药。” 
“你答应我了？” 
“是的，因为我是一个男子汉，因为正如我所告诉你的，也曾想过死。真的，自从不幸离开我以后，我时常想到长眠的快乐。” 
“但你一定能答应我这一点吗？”莫雷尔陶醉地说。 
“我不但答应，而且可以发誓！”基督山伸出一只手说。 
“那么，凭你的人格担保，在一个月之内，假如我还不能得到安慰，我自由处理我的生命，而不论我怎样做，你都不会说我忘恩负义了？” 
“一个月，十年前的这个时间和日期是神圣的，马西米兰。我不知道你是否还记得：今天是九月五日，十年前的今天，你的父亲想死，是我救他的命。” 
莫雷尔抓住伯爵的手吻了一下，伯爵任他这样做，他觉得这是他应该得到的。“一个月期满的时候，”基督山继续说，“你将在我们那时所坐的桌子前面看到一支手枪，你可以愉快的去死，但是，你必须答应我这一个月内决不自杀。” 
“噢！我也发誓。” 
基督山把那年轻人紧紧地搂在怀里。“现在，”他说，“过了今天，你就来和我住在一起。你可以住海黛的房间，至少可以由个儿子来代替我的女儿了。 
“海黛？”莫雷尔说，“她怎么了？” 
“她昨天晚上走了。” 
“离开你吗？” 
“因为她要去等着我。所以，你准备一下，到香榭丽舍大街去找我。现在陪我走出去不要让任何人看见我。” 
马西米兰低下头，象一个孩子或圣徒似的照他的吩咐做了。  
Chapter 106 Dividing the Proceeds
THE APARTMENT on the second floor of the house in the Rue Saint-Germain-des-Prés, where Albert de Morcerf had selected a home for his mother, was let to a very mysterious person. This was a man whose face the concièrge himself had never seen, for in the winter his chin was buried in one of the large red handkerchiefs worn by gentlemen's coachmen on a cold night, and in the summer he made a point of always blowing his nose just as he approached the door. Contrary to custom, this gentleman had not been watched, for as the report ran that he was a person of high rank, and one who would allow no impertinent interference, his incognito was strictly respected. 
His visits were tolerably regular, though occasionally he appeared a little before or after his time, but generally, both in summer and winter, he took possession of his apartment about four o'clock, though he never spent the night there. At half-past three in the winter the fire was lighted by the discreet servant, who had the superintendence of the little apartment, and in the summer ices were placed on the table at the same hour. At four o'clock, as we have already stated, the mysterious personage arrived. Twenty minutes afterwards a carriage stopped at the house, a lady alighted in a black or dark blue dress, and always thickly veiled; she passed like a shadow through the lodge, and ran up-stairs without a sound escaping under the touch of her light foot. No one ever asked her where she was going. Her face, therefore, like that of the gentleman, was perfectly unknown to the two concièrges, who were perhaps unequalled throughout the capital for discretion. We need not say she stopped at the second floor. Then she tapped in a peculiar manner at a door, which after being opened to admit her was again fastened, and curiosity penetrated no farther. They used the same precautions in leaving as in entering the house. The lady always left first, and as soon as she had stepped into her carriage, it drove away, sometimes towards the right hand, sometimes to the left; then about twenty minutes afterwards the gentleman would also leave, buried in his cravat or concealed by his handkerchief. 
The day after Monte Cristo had called upon Danglars, the mysterious lodger entered at ten o'clock in the morning instead of four in the afternoon. Almost directly afterwards, without the usual interval of time, a cab arrived, and the veiled lady ran hastily up-stairs. The door opened, but before it could be closed, the lady exclaimed: "Oh, Lucien--oh, my friend!" The concièrge therefore heard for the first time that the lodger's name was Lucien; still, as he was the very perfection of a door-keeper, he made up his mind not to tell his wife. "Well, what is the matter, my dear?" asked the gentleman whose name the lady's agitation revealed; "tell me what is the matter." 
"Oh, Lucien, can I confide in you?" 
"Of course, you know you can do so. But what can be the matter? Your note of this morning has completely bewildered me. This precipitation--this unusual appointment. Come, ease me of my anxiety, or else frighten me at once." 
"Lucien, a great event has happened!" said the lady, glancing inquiringly at Lucien,--"M. Danglars left last night!" 
"Left?--M. Danglars left? Where has he gone?" 
"I do not know." 
"What do you mean? Has he gone intending not to return?" 
"Undoubtedly;--at ten o'clock at night his horses took him to the barrier of Charenton; there a post-chaise was waiting for him--he entered it with his valet de chambre, saying that he was going to Fontainebleau." 
"Then what did you mean"-- 
"Stay--he left a letter for me." 
"A letter?" 
"Yes; read it." And the baroness took from her pocket a letter which she gave to Debray. Debray paused a moment before reading, as if trying to guess its contents, or perhaps while making up his mind how to act, whatever it might contain. No doubt his ideas were arranged in a few minutes, for he began reading the letter which caused so much uneasiness in the heart of the baroness, and which ran as follows:-- 
"Madame and most faithful wife." 
Debray mechanically stopped and looked at the baroness, whose face became covered with blushes. "Read," she said. 
Debray continued:-- 
"When you receive this, you will no longer have a husband. Oh, you need not be alarmed, you will only have lost him as you have lost your daughter; I mean that I shall be travelling on one of the thirty or forty roads leading out of France. I owe you some explanations for my conduct, and as you are a woman that can perfectly understand me, I will give them. Listen, then. I received this morning five millions which I paid away; almost directly afterwards another demand for the same sum was presented to me; I put this creditor off till to-morrow and I intend leaving to-day, to escape that to-morrow, which would be rather too unpleasant for me to endure. You understand this, do you not, my most precious wife? I say you understand this, because you are as conversant with my affairs as I am; indeed, I think you understand them better, since I am ignorant of what has become of a considerable portion of my fortune, once very tolerable, while I am sure, madame, that you know perfectly well. For women have infallible instincts; they can even explain the marvellous by an algebraic calculation they have invented; but I, who only understand my own figures, know nothing more than that one day these figures deceived me. Have you admired the rapidity of my fall? Have you been slightly dazzled at the sudden fusion of my ingots? I confess I have seen nothing but the fire; let us hope you have found some gold among the ashes. With this consoling idea, I leave you, madame, and most prudent wife, without any conscientious reproach for abandoning you; you have friends left, and the ashes I have already mentioned, and above all the liberty I hasten to restore to you. And here, madame, I must add another word of explanation. So long as I hoped you were working for the good of our house and for the fortune of our daughter, I philosophically closed my eyes; but as you have transformed that house into a vast ruin I will not be the foundation of another man's fortune. You were rich when I married you, but little respected. Excuse me for speaking so very candidly, but as this is intended only for ourselves, I do not see why I should weigh my words. I have augmented our fortune, and it has continued to increase during the last fifteen years, till extraordinary and unexpected catastrophes have suddenly overturned it,--without any fault of mine, I can honestly declare. You, madame, have only sought to increase your own, and I am convinced that you have succeeded. I leave you, therefore, as I took you,--rich, but little respected. Adieu! I also intend from this time to work on my own account. Accept my acknowledgments for the example you have set me, and which I intend following. 
"Your very devoted husband, 
"BARON DANGLARS." 
The baroness had watched Debray while he read this long and painful letter, and saw him, notwithstanding his self-control, change color once or twice. When he had ended the perusal, he folded the letter and resumed his pensive attitude. "Well?" asked Madame Danglars, with an anxiety easy to be understood. 
"Well, madame?" unhesitatingly repeated Debray. 
"With what ideas does that letter inspire you?" 
"Oh, it is simple enough, madame; it inspires me with the idea that M. Danglars has left suspiciously." 
"Certainly; but is this all you have to say to me?" 
"I do not understand you," said Debray with freezing coldness. 
"He is gone! Gone, never to return!" 
"Oh, madame, do not think that!" 
"I tell you he will never return. I know his character; he is inflexible in any resolutions formed for his own interests. If he could have made any use of me, he would have taken me with him; he leaves me in Paris, as our separation will conduce to his benefit;--therefore he has gone, and I am free forever," added Madame Danglars, in the same supplicating tone. Debray, instead of answering, allowed her to remain in an attitude of nervous inquiry. "Well?" she said at length, "do you not answer me?" 
"I have but one question to ask you,--what do you intend to do?" 
"I was going to ask you," replied the baroness with a beating heart. 
"Ah, then, you wish to ask advice of me?" 
"Yes; I do wish to ask your advice," said Madame Danglars with anxious expectation. 
"Then if you wish to take my advice," said the young man coldly, "I would recommend you to travel." 
"To travel!" she murmured. 
"Certainly; as M. Danglars says, you are rich, and perfectly free. In my opinion, a withdrawal from Paris is absolutely necessary after the double catastrophe of Mademoiselle Danglars' broken contract and M. Danglars' disappearance. The world will think you abandoned and poor, for the wife of a bankrupt would never be forgiven, were she to keep up an appearance of opulence. You have only to remain in Paris for about a fortnight, telling the world you are abandoned, and relating the details of this desertion to your best friends, who will soon spread the report. Then you can quit your house, leaving your jewels and giving up your jointure, and every one's mouth will be filled with praises of your disinterestedness. They will know you are deserted, and think you also poor, for I alone know your real financial position, and am quite ready to give up my accounts as an honest partner." The dread with which the pale and motionless baroness listened to this, was equalled by the calm indifference with which Debray had spoken. "Deserted?" she repeated; "ah, yes, I am, indeed, deserted! You are right, sir, and no one can doubt my position." These were the only words that this proud and violently enamoured woman could utter in response to Debray. 
"But then you are rich,--very rich, indeed," continued Debray, taking out some papers from his pocket-book, which he spread upon the table. Madame Danglars did not see them; she was engaged in stilling the beatings of her heart, and restraining the tears which were ready to gush forth. At length a sense of dignity prevailed, and if she did not entirely master her agitation, she at least succeeded in preventing the fall of a single tear. "Madame," said Debray, "it is nearly six months since we have been associated. You furnished a principal of 100,000 francs. Our partnership began in the month of April. In May we commenced operations, and in the course of the month gained 450,000 francs. In June the profit amounted to 900,000. In July we added 1,700,000 francs,--it was, you know, the month of the Spanish bonds. In August we lost 300,000 francs at the beginning of the month, but on the 13th we made up for it, and we now find that our accounts, reckoning from the first day of partnership up to yesterday, when I closed them, showed a capital of 2,400,000 francs, that is, 1,200,000 for each of us. Now, madame," said Debray, delivering up his accounts in the methodical manner of a stockbroker, "there are still 80,000 francs, the interest of this money, in my hands." 
"But," said the baroness, "I thought you never put the money out to interest." 
"Excuse me, madame," said Debray coldly, "I had your permission to do so, and I have made use of it. There are, then, 40,000 francs for your share, besides the 100,000 you furnished me to begin with, making in all 1,340,000 francs for your portion. Now, madame, I took the precaution of drawing out your money the day before yesterday; it is not long ago, you see, and I was in continual expectation of being called on to deliver up my accounts. There is your money,--half in bank-notes, the other half in checks payable to bearer. I say there, for as I did not consider my house safe enough, or lawyers sufficiently discreet, and as landed property carries evidence with it, and moreover since you have no right to possess anything independent of your husband, I have kept this sum, now your whole fortune, in a chest concealed under that closet, and for greater security I myself concealed it there. 
"Now, madame," continued Debray, first opening the closet, then the chest;--"now, madame, here are 800 notes of 1,000 francs each, resembling, as you see, a large book bound in iron; to this I add a certificate in the funds of 25,000 francs; then, for the odd cash, making I think about 110,000 francs, here is a check upon my banker, who, not being M. Danglars, will pay you the amount, you may rest assured." Madame Danglars mechanically took the check, the bond, and the heap of bank-notes. This enormous fortune made no great appearance on the table. Madame Danglars, with tearless eyes, but with her breast heaving with concealed emotion, placed the bank-notes in her bag, put the certificate and check into her pocket-book, and then, standing pale and mute, awaited one kind word of consolation. But she waited in vain. 
"Now, madame," said Debray, "you have a splendid fortune, an income of about 60,000 livres a year, which is enormous for a woman who cannot keep an establishment here for a year, at least. You will be able to indulge all your fancies; besides, should you find your income insufficient, you can, for the sake of the past, madame, make use of mine; and I am ready to offer you all I possess, on loan." 
"Thank you, sir--thank you," replied the baroness; "you forget that what you have just paid me is much more than a poor woman requires, who intends for some time, at least, to retire from the world." 
Debray was, for a moment, surprised, but immediately recovering himself, he bowed with an air which seemed to say, "As you please, madame." 
Madame Danglars had until then, perhaps, hoped for something; but when she saw the careless bow of Debray, and the glance by which it was accompanied, together with his significant silence, she raised her head, and without passion or violence or even hesitation, ran down-stairs, disdaining to address a last farewell to one who could thus part from her. "Bah," said Debray, when she had left, "these are fine projects! She will remain at home, read novels, and speculate at cards, since she can no longer do so on the Bourse." Then taking up his account book, he cancelled with the greatest care all the entries of the amounts he had just paid away. "I have 1,060,000 francs remaining," he said. "What a pity Mademoiselle de Villefort is dead! She suited me in every respect, and I would have married her." And he calmly waited until the twenty minutes had elapsed after Madame Danglars' departure before he left the house. During this time he occupied himself in making figures, with his watch by his side. 
Asmodeus--that diabolical personage, who would have been created by every fertile imagination if Le Sage had not acquired the priority in his great masterpiece--would have enjoyed a singular spectacle, if he had lifted up the roof of the little house in the Rue Saint-Germain-des-Prés, while Debray was casting up his figures. Above the room in which Debray had been dividing two millions and a half with Madame Danglars was another, inhabited by persons who have played too prominent a part in the incidents we have related for their appearance not to create some interest. Mercédès and Albert were in that room. Mercédès was much changed within the last few days; not that even in her days of fortune she had ever dressed with the magnificent display which makes us no longer able to recognize a woman when she appears in a plain and simple attire; nor indeed, had she fallen into that state of depression where it is impossible to conceal the garb of misery; no, the change in Mercédès was that her eye no longer sparkled, her lips no longer smiled, and there was now a hesitation in uttering the words which formerly sprang so fluently from her ready wit. 
It was not poverty which had broken her spirit; it was not a want of courage which rendered her poverty burdensome. Mercédès, although deposed from the exalted position she had occupied, lost in the sphere she had now chosen, like a person passing from a room splendidly lighted into utter darkness, appeared like a queen, fallen from her palace to a hovel, and who, reduced to strict necessity, could neither become reconciled to the earthen vessels she was herself forced to place upon the table, nor to the humble pallet which had become her bed. The beautiful Catalane and noble countess had lost both her proud glance and charming smile, because she saw nothing but misery around her; the walls were hung with one of the gray papers which economical landlords choose as not likely to show the dirt; the floor was uncarpeted; the furniture attracted the attention to the poor attempt at luxury; indeed, everything offended eyes accustomed to refinement and elegance. 
Madame de Morcerf had lived there since leaving her house; the continual silence of the spot oppressed her; still, seeing that Albert continually watched her countenance to judge the state of her feelings, she constrained herself to assume a monotonous smile of the lips alone, which, contrasted with the sweet and beaming expression that usually shone from her eyes, seemed like "moonlight on a statue,"--yielding light without warmth. Albert, too, was ill at ease; the remains of luxury prevented him from sinking into his actual position. If he wished to go out without gloves, his hands appeared too white; if he wished to walk through the town, his boots seemed too highly polished. Yet these two noble and intelligent creatures, united by the indissoluble ties of maternal and filial love, had succeeded in tacitly understanding one another, and economizing their stores, and Albert had been able to tell his mother without extorting a change of countenance,--"Mother, we have no more money." 
Mercédès had never known misery; she had often, in her youth, spoken of poverty, but between want and necessity, those synonymous words, there is a wide difference. Amongst the Catalans, Mercédès wished for a thousand things, but still she never really wanted any. So long as the nets were good, they caught fish; and so long as they sold their fish, they were able to buy twine for new nets. And then, shut out from friendship, having but one affection, which could not be mixed up with her ordinary pursuits, she thought of herself--of no one but herself. Upon the little she earned she lived as well as she could; now there were two to be supported, and nothing to live upon. 
Winter approached. Mercédès had no fire in that cold and naked room--she, who was accustomed to stoves which heated the house from the hall to the boudoir; she had not even one little flower--she whose apartment had been a conservatory of costly exotics. But she had her son. Hitherto the excitement of fulfilling a duty had sustained them. Excitement, like enthusiasm, sometimes renders us unconscious to the things of earth. But the excitement had calmed down, and they felt themselves obliged to descend from dreams to reality; after having exhausted the ideal, they found they must talk of the actual. 
"Mother," exclaimed Albert, just as Madame Danglars was descending the stairs, "let us reckon our riches, if you please; I want capital to build my plans upon." 
"Capital--nothing!" replied Mercédès with a mournful smile. 
"No, mother,--capital 3,000 francs. And I have an idea of our leading a delightful life upon this 3,000 francs." 
"Child!" sighed Mercédès. 
"Alas, dear mother," said the young man, "I have unhappily spent too much of your money not to know the value of it. These 3,000 francs are enormous, and I intend building upon this foundation a miraculous certainty for the future." 
"You say this, my dear boy; but do you think we ought to accept these 3,000 francs?" said Mercédès, coloring. 
"I think so," answered Albert in a firm tone. "We will accept them the more readily, since we have them not here; you know they are buried in the garden of the little house in the Allées de Meillan, at Marseilles. With 200 francs we can reach Marseilles." 
"With 200 francs?--are you sure, Albert?" 
"Oh, as for that, I have made inquiries respecting the diligences and steamboats, and my calculations are made. You will take your place in the coupé to Chalons. You see, mother, I treat you handsomely for thirty-five francs." Albert then took a pen, and wrote:-- 
Coupé, thirty-five francs ............................ 35 Frs. 
From Chalons to Lyons you will go on by the steamboat--six francs ......................................... 6 
From Lyons to Avignon (still by steamboat), sixteen francs ........ 16 
From Avignon to Marseilles, seven franc............................ 7 
Expenses on the road, about fifty francs .......................... 50 Total.............................................................. 114 frs. 
"Let us put down 120," added Albert, smiling. "You see I am generous, am I not, mother?" 
"But you, my poor child?" 
"I? do you not see that I reserve eighty francs for myself? A young man does not require luxuries; besides, I know what travelling is." 
"With a post-chaise and valet de chambre?" 
"Any way, mother." 
"Well, be it so. But these 200 francs?" 
"Here they are, and 200 more besides. See, I have sold my watch for 100 francs, and the guard and seals for 300. How fortunate that the ornaments were worth more than the watch. Still the same story of superfluities! Now I think we are rich, since instead of the 114 francs we require for the journey we find ourselves in possession of 250." 
"But we owe something in this house?" 
"Thirty francs; but I pay that out of my 150 francs,--that is understood,--and as I require only eighty francs for my journey, you see I am overwhelmed with luxury. But that is not all. What do you say to this, mother?" 
And Albert took out of a little pocket-book with golden clasps, a remnant of his old fancies, or perhaps a tender souvenir from one of the mysterious and veiled ladies who used to knock at his little door,--Albert took out of this pocket-book a note of 1,000 francs. 
"What is this?" asked Mercédès. 
"A thousand francs." 
"But whence have you obtained them?" "Listen to me, mother, and do not yield too much to agitation." And Albert, rising, kissed his mother on both cheeks, then stood looking at her. "You cannot imagine, mother, how beautiful I think you!" said the young man, impressed with a profound feeling of filial love. "You are, indeed, the most beautiful and most noble woman I ever saw!" 
"Dear child!" said Mercédès, endeavoring in vain to restrain a tear which glistened in the corner of her eye. "Indeed, you only wanted misfortune to change my love for you to admiration. I am not unhappy while I possess my son!" 
"Ah, just so," said Albert; "here begins the trial. Do you know the decision we have come to, mother?" 
"Have we come to any?" 
"Yes; it is decided that you are to live at Marseilles, and that I am to leave for Africa, where I will earn for myself the right to use the name I now bear, instead of the one I have thrown aside." Mercédès sighed. "Well, mother, I yesterday engaged myself as substitute in the Spahis,"* added the young man, lowering his eyes with a certain feeling of shame, for even he was unconscious of the sublimity of his self-abasement. "I thought my body was my own, and that I might sell it. I yesterday took the place of another. I sold myself for more than I thought I was worth," he added, attempting to smile; "I fetched 2,000 francs." 
* The Spahis are French cavalry reserved for service in Africa. 
"Then these 1,000 francs"--said Mercédès, shuddering-- 
"Are the half of the sum, mother; the other will be paid in a year." 
Mercédès raised her eyes to heaven with an expression it would be impossible to describe, and tears, which had hitherto been restrained, now yielded to her emotion, and ran down her cheeks. 
"The price of his blood!" she murmured. 
"Yes, if I am killed," said Albert, laughing. "But I assure you, mother, I have a strong intention of defending my person, and I never felt half so strong an inclination to live as I do now." 
"Merciful heavens!" 
"Besides, mother, why should you make up your mind that I am to be killed? Has Lamoricière, that Ney of the South, been killed? Has Changarnier been killed? Has Bedeau been killed? Has Morrel, whom we know, been killed? Think of your joy, mother, when you see me return with an embroidered uniform! I declare, I expect to look magnificent in it, and chose that regiment only from vanity." Mercédès sighed while endeavoring to smile; the devoted mother felt that she ought not to allow the whole weight of the sacrifice to fall upon her son. "Well, now you understand, mother!" continued Albert; "here are more than 4,000 francs settled on you; upon these you can live at least two years." 
"Do you think so?" said Mercédès. These words were uttered in so mournful a tone that their real meaning did not escape Albert; he felt his heart beat, and taking his mother's hand within his own he said, tenderly,-- 
"Yes, you will live!" 
"I shall live!--then you will not leave me, Albert?" 
"Mother, I must go," said Albert in a firm, calm voice; "you love me too well to wish me to remain useless and idle with you; besides, I have signed." 
"You will obey your own wish and the will of heaven!" 
"Not my own wish, mother, but reason--necessity. Are we not two despairing creatures? What is life to you?--Nothing. What is life to me?--Very little without you, mother; for believe me, but for you I should have ceased to live on the day I doubted my father and renounced his name. Well, I will live, if you promise me still to hope; and if you grant me the care of your future prospects, you will redouble my strength. Then I will go to the governor of Algeria; he has a royal heart, and is essentially a soldier; I will tell him my gloomy story. I will beg him to turn his eyes now and then towards me, and if he keep his word and interest himself for me, in six months I shall be an officer, or dead. If I am an officer, your fortune is certain, for I shall have money enough for both, and, moreover, a name we shall both be proud of, since it will be our own. If I am killed--well then mother, you can also die, and there will be an end of our misfortunes." 
"It is well," replied Mercédès, with her eloquent glance; "you are right, my love; let us prove to those who are watching our actions that we are worthy of compassion." 
"But let us not yield to gloomy apprehensions," said the young man; "I assure you we are, or rather we shall be, very happy. You are a woman at once full of spirit and resignation; I have become simple in my tastes, and am without passion, I hope. Once in service, I shall be rich--once in M. Dantès' house, you will be at rest. Let us strive, I beseech you,--let us strive to be cheerful." 
"Yes, let us strive, for you ought to live, and to be happy, Albert." 
"And so our division is made, mother," said the young man, affecting ease of mind. "We can now part; come, I shall engage your passage." 
"And you, my dear boy?" 
"I shall stay here for a few days longer; we must accustom ourselves to parting. I want recommendations and some information relative to Africa. I will join you again at Marseilles." 
"Well, be it so--let us part," said Mercédès, folding around her shoulders the only shawl she had taken away, and which accidentally happened to be a valuable black cashmere. Albert gathered up his papers hastily, rang the bell to pay the thirty francs he owed to the landlord, and offering his arm to his mother, they descended the stairs. Some one was walking down before them, and this person, hearing the rustling of a silk dress, turned around. "Debray!" muttered Albert. 
"You, Morcerf?" replied the secretary, resting on the stairs. Curiosity had vanquished the desire of preserving his incognito, and he was recognized. It was, indeed, strange in this unknown spot to find the young man whose misfortunes had made so much noise in Paris. 
"Morcerf!" repeated Debray. Then noticing in the dim light the still youthful and veiled figure of Madame de Morcerf:--"Pardon me," he added with a smile, "I leave you, Albert." Albert understood his thoughts. "Mother," he said, turning towards Mercédès, "this is M. Debray, secretary of the minister for the interior, once a friend of mine." 
"How once?" stammered Debray; "what do you mean?" 
"I say so, M. Debray, because I have no friends now, and I ought not to have any. I thank you for having recognized me, sir." Debray stepped forward, and cordially pressed the hand of his interlocutor. "Believe me, dear Albert," he said, with all the emotion he was capable of feeling,--"believe me, I feel deeply for your misfortunes, and if in any way I can serve you, I am yours." 
"Thank you, sir," said Albert, smiling. "In the midst of our misfortunes, we are still rich enough not to require assistance from any one. We are leaving Paris, and when our journey is paid, we shall have 5,000 francs left." The blood mounted to the temples of Debray, who held a million in his pocket-book, and unimaginative as he was he could not help reflecting that the same house had contained two women, one of whom, justly dishonored, had left it poor with 1,500,000 francs under her cloak, while the other, unjustly stricken, but sublime in her misfortune, was yet rich with a few deniers. This parallel disturbed his usual politeness, the philosophy he witnessed appalled him, he muttered a few words of general civility and ran down-stairs. 
That day the minister's clerks and the subordinates had a great deal to put up with from his ill-humor. But that same night, he found himself the possessor of a fine house, situated on the Boulevard de la Madeleine, and an income of 50,000 livres. The next day, just as Debray was signing the deed, that is about five o'clock in the afternoon, Madame de Morcerf, after having affectionately embraced her son, entered the coupé of the diligence, which closed upon her. A man was hidden in Lafitte's banking-house, behind one of the little arched windows which are placed above each desk; he saw Mercédès enter the diligence, and he also saw Albert withdraw. Then he passed his hand across his forehead, which was clouded with doubt. "Alas," he exclaimed, "how can I restore the happiness I have taken away from these poor innocent creatures? God help me!"  
阿尔贝和马尔塞夫夫人在圣·日尔曼选定了一家旅馆，楼上还有一间小套房，一个非常神秘的人租下了这个小套间。 
门房从来不曾见过，因为在冬天，他的下巴用一条大红围巾围着。马车夫在寒冷的夜晚才用，而在夏天，每当他走近门口的时候，总是在擤鼻涕。可是：这位先生并没有被监视，据说他是一个地位很高的人，不允许遭受无礼的干涉的，他的微服秘行是受人尊敬的。他来旅馆的时间是固定的，虽然偶或略有迟早。一般地说，不论冬夏，他约莫在四点钟的时候到他的房间里来，但从不在这儿过夜。在冬天，到三点半钟的时候，管理这个小房间的仆人便来生起炉火；在夏天，那个仆人便把冰块端上去。到四点钟，那位神秘的人物便来了。 
二十分钟以后，一辆马车在门前停下，一个身穿黑衣服或深蓝衣服的贵妇人从车子里下来，象一个幽灵似的经过门房，悄悄地奔上楼梯。从来没有人问她去找谁。所以她的脸，象那位绅士的脸一样，两个门房也完全不知道。在整个巴黎，大概也只有这两个能这样谨慎识礼的门房，她走到二楼就停下。 
然后，她用一种特殊的方式轻轻叩门，她进去以后，门又紧紧地关住。至于他们在房里干什么没人知道。离开那座房子的时候也象进来的时候同样小心。那贵妇人先出去，出去的时候也总是戴着面纱，她跨上马车，不是消失在街的这一头，就是消失街的那一头，约莫二十分钟后，那位绅士也把脸埋在围巾里离去。 
在基督山拜访腾格拉尔的第二天，也就是瓦朗蒂娜出丧的那一天，那神秘的房客在早晨十点钟进来了。几乎同时而不是象往常那样间隔一段时间以后，来了一辆马车，那戴面纱的贵妇人匆匆地从车子上下来奔上楼去。门开了，但在它还没有关以前，那贵妇人就喊了一声道：“噢，吕西安！我的朋友！”门房这才第一次知道那房客的名字是叫吕西安，可是，因为他是一个模范门房，他决定这件事情连老婆都不告诉。 
“嗯，什么事，亲爱的？”他的名字被那贵妇人在仓猝中泄漏出来的那位绅士说，“告诉我，什么事？” 
“噢，吕西安！我能依靠你吗？” 
“当然罗，你是知道的。但是出什么事了呀？你今天早晨的那张便条把我完全弄糊涂了。你写的那样仓促，字迹那样潦草，——快说出来，好让我放心，要不索性吓我一跳。” 
“吕西安，出大事了！”那贵妇人用探询的目光望着吕西安说，“腾格拉尔先生昨天晚上出走了！” 
“出走了，腾格拉尔先生出走了！他到哪儿去了呢？” 
“我不知道。” 
“你是什么意思？你不知道？那么他这一走就不回来了吗？” 
“想必是吧！昨天晚上十点钟，他乘马车到了卡兰登城门，那儿有一辆驿车在等着他，他带着贴身仆人上了车，对他自己的车夫说是到枫丹白露去。” 
“那么你刚才怎么说——” 
“等一等，他留了一封信给我。” 
“一封信？” 
“是的，你念吧。”于是男爵夫人从她的口袋里拿出一封信来交给德布雷。 
德布雷然后开始读信沉思了一会儿，象是在猜测那封信的内容，又象是在考虑，不论那封信的内容如何，也想先考虑一下下一步该怎么做。几分钟后他无疑已拿定了主意，那封使男爵夫人心神不定的信是这样的： 
“我忠实的夫人：” 
德布雷毫不思索地住口，望一望男爵夫人，男爵夫人羞得连眼睛都红了。“念吧。”她说。狄布雷继续念道： 
“当你收到这封信的时候，你已失去你的丈夫了！噢！ 
你不必惊慌，只是象你失去女儿一样；失去他，我的意思是，我正在三四十条从法国出境的大路上。我这样做应该向你解释，你是一个能完全理解这种解释的女人，我现在就说给你听，所以，请看仔细：今天，有人来向我这儿提取五百万的款项，那笔提款支付了，紧接着又有一个人来向我提取一笔同样数目的款项，我请来人明天来取，我今天出走就是为了逃避明天，明天是太不好受了。你能理解是吗，夫人？”我说你能理解的原因是，因为你对于我的财务是象我自己一样熟悉的。甚至我以为你更清楚，因为在我那从前还非常可观的财产中，其中有相当大的一部分我不知道到哪儿去了，而你则不然，夫人，我肯定你知道得清清楚楚。因为女人生来就有万无一失的本能，——她们甚至能用自己发明代数公式来解释不可思议的事情；但是我，只懂得我自己的数字，只要有一天这些数字欺骗我，我就什么都不知道了。你是否奇怪我的失败来得这样迅速吗？我的金条突然融化烧掉，你可曾觉得有点迷乱吗？我承认我只见了火，但愿你能从灰堆中找到一点金子。我带着这个宽慰的念头离开了你，我审慎的夫人，我虽然离开了你，但良心上却并无任何遗弃你的内疚。你有朋友，和那我已经提及过的灰烬，而尤其重要的是我急于归还给你的自由。关于这个，夫人，我必须再写几句解释一下。以前，当我以为你还能增进我们家庭的收益和女儿的幸福的时候，我达观地闭上眼睛，然而你却把那个家庭变成一片废墟，我也不愿意做另一个人发财的垫脚石了。当我要娶你的时候，你很有钱，但却不受人尊重。原谅我的直率，但既然涉及到你我之间的事，我看我似乎并不需要闪烁其辞。 
我增加了我们的财产，十五年来，它持续不断地增加，直到意想不到的灾祸从天而降，以坦白地说，关于这场灾祸，我没有任何过错。你，夫人，你只求增加你自己的财产，你已经成功了。所以，我在离开你的时候，仍让你处于我娶你时的境况，——有钱，但却不受人尊重。别了！从今天起，我也准备要为自己而努力了。你为我做出了榜样，我会照着这个榜样去做的。 
你忠诚的丈夫，——腾格拉尔男爵。” 
当德布雷读这封长信的时候，男爵夫人始终看着他，他虽然竭力控制自己，却仍禁不住变了一两次脸色。读完信以后，他把信叠好，恢复了他那若有所思的神情。 
“怎么样？”腾格拉尔夫人焦急地问，她的焦急心情是容易理解的。 
“怎么样？夫人？”德布雷机械地反问。 
“这封信你有什么想法？” 
“噢，简单得很，夫人，我想腾格拉尔先生走时是有所猜疑的。” 
“当然罗，但你要说的，就这一句话吗？” 
“我不懂你的意思。”德布雷冷冰冰地说。 
“他走了，——走了，永远不回来了！” 
“噢，夫人！别那样想！” 
“我对你说他是决不回来的了。我知道他的个性，凡是对他自己有利的，他是不会改变的。如果我对他还有用，他会带我一起走的。他把我丢在巴黎，那是因为扔下我对他达到自己的目的有利。所以，他一个人走了，我是永远得自由了。” 
腾格拉尔夫人用祈求的表情最后说。 
德布雷并不回答，使她仍处于那种焦急的询问态度。 
“怎么？”她终于说，“你不回答我？” 
“我只想问你一个问题，你打算怎么办？” 
“我正要问你我该怎么办，”男爵夫人心情紧张地说。 
“啊！那么你希望从我这儿得到忠告？” 
“是的，我的确希望你给我忠告。”腾格拉尔夫人急切地说。 
“那末，假如你希望我给您忠告，”那青年冷淡地说，“我就建议你去旅行。” 
“去旅行！”她吃惊地说。 
“当然罗，正如腾格拉尔先生说的，你很有钱，而且是自由的。按我的意见，腾格拉尔小姐婚约的二次破裂，腾格拉尔先生失踪在这双重不幸发生以后，离开巴黎是很有必需的。你必须使外界相信你被遗弃了，而且贫苦无依。一个破产者的妻子如果保持着奢华的外表，人家是无法原谅的。你只须在巴黎逗留两星期，让外界知道你被遗弃了。把这次被遗弃的经过讲给你的朋友听，她们很快就会把消息散布出去。然后你就可以离开了，留下你的首饰，放弃你法定的继承权，每一个人都会赞美你，称赞你洁身自好。他们知道你被遗弃了，会以为你很穷苦，因为只有我一个人知道你的真实经济状况，而且我很愿意把我的账目交给你，做你忠实的合伙人。” 
男爵夫人吓呆了脸色苍白，一动都不动地站着，她听这一番话时的恐惧心情，与德布雷说话时的那种漠不关心的镇定形成截然的对比。“遗弃！”她复述德布雷的话说，“啊，是的，我的确被遗弃了！你说得对，阁下，谁都无法怀疑我的处境。”这个堕入情网的骄傲女人用这几句话来答复德布雷。 
“但你还有钱，非常有钱，”德布雷一面说，一面从他的皮夹里拿出几张纸来，铺在桌子上。腾格拉尔夫人并不看他，——她竭力抑制自己的心跳和那就要涌放出来的眼泪。 
最终，还是自尊心获得胜利；即使她没有完全控制住她激动的心情，至少她没让掉下来眼泪。 
“夫人，”德布雷说，“自从我们合作以来，六个月了。你提供了十万法郎的本钱。我们的合伙是四月开始的。五月，我们开始经营，在一个月中赚了四十五六法郎。六月，利润达九十万。七月，我们又增加了一百七十万法郎。你知道，就是做西班牙公债的那个月。八月，我们在月初亏损三十万法郎，但到十三号便已赚回来。现在，在我们的帐上，——一共赚了二百四十万法郎，——那就是说，我们每人一百二十万。现在，夫人，”德布雷用象一个股票掮客一样一本正经地说，“另外还有八万法郎，是这笔钱的利息。” 
“但是，”男爵夫人说，“我没想到你拿钱出去入利息。” 
“请原谅，夫人，”德布雷冷冷地说，“我这样做是得到过你的允许的，所以，除了你提供的十万法郎以外，你还可以分到四万利息，加起来，你的部份一共是一百三十四法郎。嗯，夫人，为了安全起见，我前天已经把你的钱从银行提出来了。你瞧，两天的时间不算长，如果我迟迟不算账，等人找上门来，我就被人怀疑了。你的钱在那儿，一半现金，一半是支票。我说‘那儿’是因为我的家里不够安全，律师也不够可靠，房地产预订契约，尤其是，你没有权利保存属于你丈夫的任何东西，所以我把这笔钱属于你的全部财产——放在那只衣柜里面的一只钱箱里，为了可靠起见，我亲自把它锁进去。现在，夫人，”德布雷打开衣柜，拿出钱箱打开，继续说，——“现在，夫人，这是八百张一千法郎的钞票，你看，象是一本装订好的画册：此外，还有一笔二万五千法郎的股息，余数，大概还有十一万法郎［原著计算错误。——译注］，这是一张开给我的银行家的支票，他，是会照数付给你的，你大可放心。” 
腾格拉尔夫人机械地接受了支票股息和那堆钞票。这笔庞大的财产在桌子上所占的位置并不多。腾格拉尔夫人欲哭无泪、情绪激动，她把钞票放进她钱袋里，把股息和支票夹入笔记本里，然后，她脸色苍白，一声不响地站着，等待一句安慰话。但她等了一个空。 
“现在，夫人，”德布雷说，“你有了一笔很可观的财产，一笔能使你每年获益八万法郎的收入，这笔收入，对于一个一年内不能在这儿立足的女人来说，够大的了。你以后可以随心所欲，而且，若果发觉你的收入不够用的话，夫人，看过去的面上，你可用我的，我很愿意把我的全部所有都给你，当然是借给你。” 
“谢谢你，阁下，谢谢你，”男爵夫人答道，“你知道，你刚才付给我的那些钱，对于一个准备退隐的可怜女人来说，已经太多了。” 
德布雷一时感到有点儿惊愕，但很快恢复了常态，他鞠了一躬，神色之间象是在说，—— 
“那随便你，夫人。” 
在此之前，腾格拉尔夫人或许还抱着某种希望，但当她看到德布雷那漫不经心的表情，那种姑妄听之的目光，以及那种意味深长的沉默的时候，她昂起头，既不发怒也不发抖，但也毫不犹豫地走出房门，甚至不屑向他告别。 
“唔！”德布雷在她离开以后说，“这些计划很妙呀！她可以呆在家里读读小说，她虽然不再能在证券交易所投机，但却还可以在纸牌上投机。” 
然后，他拿起帐簿，小心地把他刚才付掉的款项一笔笔划去。“我还有一百零六万，”他说。“维尔福小姐死了多可惜呀！她各方面都配得上我的胃口，我本来可以娶她的。”是他平心静气地等腾格拉尔夫人离开二十分钟以后他才离开那座房子。在这期间，他全神贯注地计算数字，把他的表放在一边。 
勒萨日剧中那个魔鬼的角色阿斯摩狄思［勒萨日所作剧本《瘸脚魔鬼》中的人物，魔鬼阿斯狄思。——译注］——如果勒萨日没有把他写进自己的作品里，其他想象力丰富的作家也会创造出他来的——如果在德布雷算帐的时候，揭开圣·日尔曼路那座小房子的屋顶，就会看到一幕奇特的情景。在德布雷和腾格拉尔夫人平分二百五十万的那个房间的隔壁房间里，住着两个熟人，他们在我们以前所讲的事情里占着极重要的地位，而且我们以后还要很关切地讲述他们两个人。那个房间里住着美塞苔丝和阿尔贝。最近几天来，美塞苔丝改变了许多，——这并不是因为她现在穿着平淡朴素的服装，以致我们认不出她了，即使有她有钱的时候，她也从不作华丽的打扮，也并不是由于她穷困潦倒以致无法掩饰穷苦的外貌。不，美塞苔丝的改变是她的眼睛不再发光了，她也不再微笑了，她那以前富于机智的流利的谈吐现在听不见了，她常欲言又止。使她的精神崩溃的，不是贫穷，她并不缺乏勇气忍受贫穷的，美塞苔丝从她以前优越的地位降低到她现在的这种境况，象是一个人从一个灯壁辉煌的宫殿进入一片无边的黑暗，——美塞苔丝象是一位皇后从她的宫殿跌到一间茅舍里，她只能有最低限度的生活必需品，她不能习惯那种放在桌子上的泥碗，也不能习惯用下等草褥来代替床铺。她那个美丽的迦太兰人和高贵的伯爵夫人失掉好高傲的目光和动人的微笑，她在周围所见的，只有穷苦。房东在墙上糊了灰色的纸张，地板上不易显示出来，没有地毯，房中的家具引人注目让人没法把目光从硬充阔气的寒酸相上引开，看惯了精美高雅的东西的眼睛看了这些永远不会感到舒服。 
马尔塞夫夫人自从离开宅邸后，就住在这儿，周围的寂静使她感到郁闷，可是，看到阿尔贝注意着她的脸色想了解她的情绪，她勉强在自己的嘴唇上露出一种单调的微笑，这种微笑没有一丝暖意，与她以前眼睛里光彩四射的样子截然不同。好象是没有温暖的亮光。阿尔贝也忧心忡忡，过去奢侈的习惯使他与目前的情况极不协调。如果他不戴手套出去，他的一双手便显得太白了，如果他想徒步在街上走，他的皮靴似乎太亮了。可是，这两个高贵而聪明的人，在母子之爱的联系之下，得到了无言的谅解，他们不用象朋友之间那样先得经过初步的尝试阶段才能达到开诚相见。开诚坦白在这种情况下是非常重要的。阿尔贝至少不会对他的母亲说：“妈，我们没有钱了。”他至少不会用这种话来使她难过。以前美塞苔丝从不知道穷苦是怎么回事，她在年轻时代常常谈到贫穷，但在“需要”和“必需”这两个同义同之间，她不清楚什么区别。住在迦太兰村的时候，美塞苔丝想得到而得不到的东西也多得很，但好些东西是她从不缺的。只要鱼网不破，他们就能捕鱼；而只要他们的鱼能卖钱，他们就能买线织新网。 
那时候，她没有朋友，只有一个爱人，那时她只须照顾自己。 
她经济状况虽然不是太好，但她还可以尽量宽裕地应付自己的一份开销；现在她手头一无所有，却有两份开销得应付。 
冬天临近。在那个寒冷的房间里，美塞苔丝没有生火，她以前最喜欢享受炉火的温暖，从大厅到寝室都暖烘烘的。现在她甚至连一朵小花都没有，她以前的房间象是一间培植珍贵花卉的温室。她还有儿子。直到那时，一种责任感激起的兴奋支持着他们。兴奋象热情一样，有时会使我们忘记好多难题。一旦兴奋平静下来，他们不得不从梦境回到现实，在说尽了理想以后，必须谈论到实际。 
“妈！”腾格拉尔夫人下楼梯的时候，阿尔贝喊道，“如果感兴趣，我们来算一算我们还有多少钱好吗，我需要一笔钱来实施我的计划。” 
“钱！什么都没有！”美塞苔丝苦笑道。 
“不，妈，三千法郎。我有一个主意，可以凭三千法郎过上愉快的生活。” 
“孩子！”美塞苔丝叹息道。 
“唉，亲爱的妈呀！”那年轻人说，“可惜过去我花了你太多的钱，而不知道钱的重要。这三千法郎是一个大数目，我要用它创建一个充满安宁的神奇的前途。” 
“可以这么说，我亲爱的孩子，但你认为我们应该接受这三千法郎吗？”美塞苔丝红着脸说。 
“我想是的，”阿尔贝用坚决的口气答道。“我们可以接受，因为我们缺钱用，你知道，这零钱就埋在马赛米兰巷一所小房子的花园里。有两百法郎，我们可以到达马赛了。” 
“凭两百法郎？你这么想，阿尔贝。” 
“噢，至于那一点，我已向公共驿车站和轮船公司调查过了，我已经算好了。你可以乘双人驿车到厦龙，你瞧，妈，我待你象一位皇后一样，这笔车费是三十五法郎。” 
阿尔贝于是拿起一支笔写了起来：双人驿车三十五法郎从夏龙到里昂，坐轮船六法郎从里昂到阿维尼翁，仍坐轮船十六法郎从阿维尼翁到马赛七法郎沿余零用五十法郎…总计一百一十四法郎“一百二十吧，”阿尔贝笑着说。“你看，我算得很宽裕了，是不是，妈？” 
“你呢，我可怜的孩子？” 
“我！你没看见我为自己留了八十法郎吗？一个青年是不需要奢侈的，而且，我知道出门是怎么一回事。” 
“可那是乘着私人驿车，带着仆人。” 
“随便怎样都行，妈。” 
“嗯，就算是这样吧。但这两百法郎呢？” 
“这不是？而且另外还多两百。青，我把我的表卖了一百法郎，把表链和坠子卖了三百法郎。多幸运，那些小玩意比表还值钱。这些都是多余的东西！现在，我们很有钱了，因为，你旅途只需要一百一十四法郎，你却可以带着两百五十法郎上路。” 
“但我们还欠这间房子的租金呢！” 
“三十法郎，从我的一百五十法郎偿付好了，我只需要八十法郎的旅费。你看，我是绰绰有余的了，还有呢。你说这怎么样，妈？” 
于是阿尔贝摸出一本嵌金搭扣的小笔记本，——这是他唯一的一件心爱的东西，也许是那些常常来敲他那扇小门的神秘的蒙面女郎送给他的订情信物，——阿尔贝从这本笔记本里抽出一张一千法郎的钞票。 
“这是什么？”美塞苔丝问。 
“一千法郎，妈。噢，这是真的。” 
“你从哪儿得来的？” 
“听我说，妈，别激动。”阿尔贝站起来，他母亲的两鳃上各吻了一下，然后站在那儿望着她。“妈，你不知道你是多么的美！”年轻人怀着深挚的母子情激动地说，“你的确是我生平所见到的最美丽最高贵的女人了！” 
“好孩子！”美塞苔丝说，她竭力抑制不让眼泪掉下来，但终于还是失败了。 
“真的，只要看到你忍受痛苦，我对你的爱就变成崇拜了。” 
“我有了儿子就不会痛苦，”美塞苔丝说，“只要我还有他，我是不会感到痛苦的。” 
“啊！是这样的。”阿尔贝说，现在开始考验了。你知道我们必须实行的协议吗，妈？” 
“我们有什么协议？” 
“有的，我们的协议是：你去住在马赛，而我则动身到非洲去，在那儿，我将不用已经抛弃的那个姓，而用我现在这个姓氏。”美塞苔丝叹了一口气。“嗯，妈呀！我昨天已经去应征加入驻阿尔及利亚的骑兵联队了，”那青年说到这里，便低垂眼睛，感到有点难为情，因为连他自己都不知道他这种自卑的伟大。“我觉得我的身体是我自己的，我有权利卖掉它。我昨天去顶替了一个人的位置。我想不到自己那么值钱，”那青年人竭力想微笑，，”整整两千法郎。” 
“那么，这一千法郎——”美塞苔丝浑身打寒颤说。 
“是那笔款子的一半，妈，其余的在一年之内付清。” 
美塞苔丝带着一种无法形容的表情抬头向天，一直被抑制着的眼泪，现在涌了出来。 
“用血换来的代价。”她难过地说。 
“是的，如果我战死的话，”阿尔贝笑着说，“但我向你保证，妈，我有坚强的意志要保护我的身体，我求生的意志从来还没有象现在这样坚强。” 
“仁慈的上帝啊！” 
“而且，妈，为什么你一定以为我会战死？拉摩利萨可曾被杀吗？姜茄尼可曾被杀吗？皮杜［以上三人均为当时侵略阿尔及利亚等非洲土地的法国将军。——译注］可曾被杀吗？莫雷尔，我们认识的，可曾被杀吗？想想看，妈，当你看到我穿着一套镶花制服回来的时候，你将多么高兴呀！我要说：我觉得前途乐观得很，我选择那个联队只是为了名誉。” 
美塞苔丝竭力想笑，结果却是叹了一口气。这个神圣的母亲觉得她不应该只让儿子肩负重担。 
“嗯！现在你懂了吧，妈！”阿尔贝继续说，“我们有四千多法郎供你花。这笔钱，至少供你生活两年。” 
“你是这样想的吗？”美塞苔丝说。 
这句话说出来是这样的悲伤，阿尔贝理解母亲的心思。他的心在猛跳，他抓住母亲的手，温柔地说：“是的，你会活下去的！” 
“我会活下去！那么你离开我了吗，阿尔贝？” 
“妈，我必须去的，”阿尔贝用一种坚定而平静的声音说，“你很爱我！所以不愿意看见我无所事事在你的身边闲荡，而且，我已经签了约了。” 
“你可以按你自己的意愿行事，我的孩子，而我——我将按上帝的意志行事。” 
“那不是我的意志，妈，是我的理智——。我们难道不是两个绝望的人吗？生命对你有什么意义？没有什么可留恋的。生命对我有什么意义？没有了你，也无可留恋了，相信我，要不是为了你，早在我怀疑我的父亲，抛夺他的姓氏的那一天，我就不会再活了。如果你答应我继续保持希望，我就可以活下去，如果你允许我照顾你未来的生活，你就可以使我的力量增加一倍。那时，我就去见阿尔及利亚总督，他有一颗仁慈的心，而且是一个道地的军人。我将把我悲惨的身世告诉他。我将要求他照顾我，如果他能克守诺言，对我发生了兴趣，那么在六个月之内，若果我不死，我就是一个军官了。如果我成了军官，你的幸福就确定了，因为那时我就有够两个人用的钱了，尤其是，我们将有一个足以引以为自豪的姓氏，因为那是我们自己的姓氏了。如果我被杀了，那么，妈呀，如果你愿意的话，你也可以死了，而我们的不幸也就可以结束了。” 
“很好，”美塞苔丝说，眼里露出高贵而动人的神色。“你说得对，我的宝贝，向那些注意我们的行动的人证明：我们至少是值得同情的。” 
“但我们不要去想那种可怕结果，”那青年说，“我向你保证：我们是说得更切确些，我们将来是快乐的。你是一个对生活充满希望而同时又是乐天安命的女人，我要改掉坏习惯，希望能不动情感。一旦到了部队里，我就会有钱，一旦住进唐太斯先生的房子，你就会得到安宁。让我们奋斗吧，我求求你——让我们用奋斗去寻找快乐吧。” 
“是的，让我们奋斗吧，因为你是应该活下去的，而且是应该得到快乐的，阿尔贝。” 
“那么我们的财产分割就这么定了，妈，”那青年装出满不在乎的样子说，“我们今天就可以出发了，我按我们商定的办法去给你定位子。” 
“你呢，我亲爱的孩子？” 
“我在这儿再住几天，我们必须使自己习惯于分别。我要去弄几封介绍信，还要打听一些关于非洲的消息。我到马赛再去见你。” 
“那么，就这样吧！我们走吧。”美塞苔丝一面说，一面披上围巾，她只带出来这一条围巾，它是一条珍贵的黑色的克什米尔羊毛围巾。阿尔贝匆匆忙忙地收集好他的文件，付清他欠房东的三十法郎，伸手臂扶着他的母亲，走下楼梯。恰好有一个人走在他的前面，这个人听到绸衣服的窸窣声，恰好转过头来。“德布雷！”阿尔贝轻声地说。 
“是你，马尔塞夫，”大臣秘书站在楼梯上答道。好奇心战胜了他那想掩饰真面目的愿望，而且，他已被马尔塞夫认出来了。在这个意想不到的地方遇见那个青年，他的不幸曾在巴黎轰动一时，这的确是够新奇的。 
“马尔塞夫！”德布雷说。然后，在昏暗的光线里注意到马尔塞夫夫人那依旧还很美的身材和那黑色的面纱，他便带着一个微笑说，“原谅我！我走了，阿尔贝。” 
阿尔贝明白他的意思。“妈，”他转过去对美塞苔丝说，“这位是德布雷先生，内政部长的私人秘书，曾经是我们的朋友。” 
“怎么说曾经呢？”德布雷结结巴巴地说，“你是什么意思？” 
“我这样说，德布雷先生，是因为我现在没有朋友了，我应该是没有朋友的了。我感谢你还能认出我。” 
德布雷走上来热情地和对方握手。“相信我，亲爱的阿尔贝，”他尽量用友好热情的口吻说，“——相信我，我对你的不幸深表同情，如果我能够为你效劳的话，我可以听从你的吩咐。” 
“谢谢你，阁下，”阿尔贝微笑着说，“我们虽遭不幸，却还过得去。我们要离开巴黎了，在我们付清车费以后，我们还能剩下五千法郎。” 
德布雷的脸都红了，他的钱袋里装着一百万呢，他虽然不善于想象，但他不禁联想到：就在一会儿以前这座房子里有两个女人，一个是应该遭受耻辱的，但在她的披风底下带着一百五十万还觉得穷，另一个是遭受了不公平的的打击，但她却在忍受她的不幸，虽然身边只有几个钱，却还觉得很富足。这种对比使他以前的那种殷勤的态度，实例所说明的哲理使他迷惑了。他含糊地说了几句客套话，便奔下楼梯。那天，部里的职员，他的下属都成了他的出气筒。但当天晚上，他成了一座座落在玛德伦大道上的漂亮的房子的主人。并且每年有五万里弗的收入。 
第二天，正当德布雷在签署房契的时候，——也就是说在下午五点钟左右，——马尔塞夫夫人满怀热情地拥抱了儿子，跨进公共驿车，车门随后关上了。这时，在拉费德银行一扇拱形小窗口后面，躲着一个人。他看见美茜丝走进驿车，看见驿车开走看见阿尔贝回去，这时他举起手，按在他那布满疑云的额头上。“唉！我从这些可怜的无辜者手中夺来的幸福！”怎样才能把幸福还给他们呢？上帝帮助我吧！” 
Chapter 108 The Judge
 WE REMEMBER that the Abb¨| Busoni remained alone with Noirtier in the chamber of death, and that the old man and the priest were the sole guardians of the young girl's body. Perhaps it was the Christian exhortations of the abb¨|, perhaps his kind charity, perhaps his persuasive words, which had restored the courage of Noirtier, for ever since he had conversed with the priest his violent despair had yielded to a calm resignation which surprised all who knew his excessive affection for Valentine. M. de Villefort had not seen his father since the morning of the death. The whole establishment had been changed; another valet was engaged for himself, a new servant for Noirtier, two women had entered Madame de Villefort's service,--in fact, everywhere, to the conci¨¨rge and coachmen, new faces were presented to the different masters of the house, thus widening the division which had always existed between the members of the same family. 
The assizes, also, were about to begin, and Villefort, shut up in his room, exerted himself with feverish anxiety in drawing up the case against the murderer of Caderousse. This affair, like all those in which the Count of Monte Cristo had interfered, caused a great sensation in Paris. The proofs were certainly not convincing, since they rested upon a few words written by an escaped galley-slave on his death-bed, and who might have been actuated by hatred or revenge in accusing his companion. But the mind of the procureur was made up; he felt assured that Benedetto was guilty, and he hoped by his skill in conducting this aggravated case to flatter his self-love, which was about the only vulnerable point left in his frozen heart. 
The case was therefore prepared owing to the incessant labor of Villefort, who wished it to be the first on the list in the coming assizes. He had been obliged to seclude himself more than ever, to evade the enormous number of applications presented to him for the purpose of obtaining tickets of admission to the court on the day of trial. And then so short a time had elapsed since the death of poor Valentine, and the gloom which overshadowed the house was so recent, that no one wondered to see the father so absorbed in his professional duties, which were the only means he had of dissipating his grief. 
Once only had Villefort seen his father; it was the day after that upon which Bertuccio had paid his second visit to Benedetto, when the latter was to learn his father's name. The magistrate, harassed and fatigued, had descended to the garden of his house, and in a gloomy mood, similar to that in which Tarquin lopped off the tallest poppies, he began knocking off with his cane the long and dying branches of the rose-trees, which, placed along the avenue, seemed like the spectres of the brilliant flowers which had bloomed in the past season. More than once he had reached that part of the garden where the famous boarded gate stood overlooking the deserted enclosure, always returning by the same path, to begin his walk again, at the same pace and with the same gesture, when he accidentally turned his eyes towards the house, whence he heard the noisy play of his son, who had returned from school to spend the Sunday and Monday with his mother. While doing so, he observed M. Noirtier at one of the open windows, where the old man had been placed that he might enjoy the last rays of the sun which yet yielded some heat, and was now shining upon the dying flowers and red leaves of the creeper which twined around the balcony. 
The eye of the old man was riveted upon a spot which Villefort could scarcely distinguish. His glance was so full of hate, of ferocity, and savage impatience, that Villefort turned out of the path he had been pursuing, to see upon what person this dark look was directed. Then he saw beneath a thick clump of linden-trees, which were nearly divested of foliage, Madame de Villefort sitting with a book in her hand, the perusal of which she frequently interrupted to smile upon her son, or to throw back his elastic ball, which he obstinately threw from the drawing-room into the garden. Villefort became pale; he understood the old man's meaning. Noirtier continued to look at the same object, but suddenly his glance was transferred from the wife to the husband, and Villefort himself had to submit to the searching investigation of eyes, which, while changing their direction and even their language, had lost none of their menacing expression. Madame de Villefort, unconscious of the passions that exhausted their fire over her head, at that moment held her son's ball, and was making signs to him to reclaim it with a kiss. Edward begged for a long while, the maternal kiss probably not offering sufficient recompense for the trouble he must take to obtain it; however at length he decided, leaped out of the window into a cluster of heliotropes and daisies, and ran to his mother, his forehead streaming with perspiration. Madame de Villefort wiped his forehead, pressed her lips upon it, and sent him back with the ball in one hand and some bonbons in the other. 
Villefort, drawn by an irresistible attraction, like that of the bird to the serpent, walked towards the house. As he approached it, Noirtier's gaze followed him, and his eyes appeared of such a fiery brightness that Villefort felt them pierce to the depths of his heart. In that earnest look might be read a deep reproach, as well as a terrible menace. Then Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven, as though to remind his son of a forgotten oath. "It is well, sir," replied Villefort from below,--"it is well; have patience but one day longer; what I have said I will do." Noirtier seemed to be calmed by these words, and turned his eyes with indifference to the other side. Villefort violently unbuttoned his great-coat, which seemed to strangle him, and passing his livid hand across his forehead, entered his study. 
The night was cold and still; the family had all retired to rest but Villefort, who alone remained up, and worked till five o'clock in the morning, reviewing the last interrogatories made the night before by the examining magistrates, compiling the depositions of the witnesses, and putting the finishing stroke to the deed of accusation, which was one of the most energetic and best conceived of any he had yet delivered. 
The next day, Monday, was the first sitting of the assizes. The morning dawned dull and gloomy, and Villefort saw the dim gray light shine upon the lines he had traced in red ink. The magistrate had slept for a short time while the lamp sent forth its final struggles; its flickerings awoke him, and he found his fingers as damp and purple as though they had been dipped in blood. He opened the window; a bright yellow streak crossed the sky, and seemed to divide in half the poplars, which stood out in black relief on the horizon. In the clover-fields beyond the chestnut-trees, a lark was mounting up to heaven, while pouring out her clear morning song. The damps of the dew bathed the head of Villefort, and refreshed his memory. "To-day," he said with an effort,--"to-day the man who holds the blade of justice must strike wherever there is guilt." Involuntarily his eyes wandered towards the window of Noirtier's room, where he had seen him the preceding night. The curtain was drawn, and yet the image of his father was so vivid to his mind that he addressed the closed window as though it had been open, and as if through the opening he had beheld the menacing old man. "Yes," he murmured,--"yes, be satisfied." 
His head dropped upon his chest, and in this position he paced his study; then he threw himself, dressed as he was, upon a sofa, less to sleep than to rest his limbs, cramped with cold and study. By degrees every one awoke. Villefort, from his study, heard the successive noises which accompany the life of a house,--the opening and shutting of doors, the ringing of Madame de Villefort's bell, to summon the waiting-maid, mingled with the first shouts of the child, who rose full of the enjoyment of his age. Villefort also rang; his new valet brought him the papers, and with them a cup of chocolate. 
"What are you bringing me?" said he. 
"A cup of chocolate." 
"I did not ask for it. Who has paid me this attention?" 
"My mistress, sir. She said you would have to speak a great deal in the murder case, and that you should take something to keep up your strength;" and the valet placed the cup on the table nearest to the sofa, which was, like all the rest, covered with papers. The valet then left the room. Villefort looked for an instant with a gloomy expression, then, suddenly, taking it up with a nervous motion, he swallowed its contents at one draught. It might have been thought that he hoped the beverage would be mortal, and that he sought for death to deliver him from a duty which he would rather die than fulfil. He then rose, and paced his room with a smile it would have been terrible to witness. The chocolate was inoffensive, for M. de Villefort felt no effects. The breakfast-hour arrived, but M. de Villefort was not at table. The valet re-entered. 
"Madame de Villefort wishes to remind you, sir," he said, "that eleven o'clock has just struck, and that the trial commences at twelve." 
"Well," said Villefort, "what then?" 
"Madame de Villefort is dressed; she is quite ready, and wishes to know if she is to accompany you, sir?" 
"Where to?" 
"To the Palais." 
"What to do?" 
"My mistress wishes much to be present at the trial." 
"Ah," said Villefort, with a startling accent; "does she wish that?"--The man drew back and said, "If you wish to go alone, sir, I will go and tell my mistress." Villefort remained silent for a moment, and dented his pale cheeks with his nails. "Tell your mistress," he at length answered, "that I wish to speak to her, and I beg she will wait for me in her own room." 
"Yes, sir." 
"Then come to dress and shave me." 
"Directly, sir." The valet re-appeared almost instantly, and, having shaved his master, assisted him to dress entirely in black. When he had finished, he said,-- 
"My mistress said she should expect you, sir, as soon as you had finished dressing." 
"I am going to her." And Villefort, with his papers under his arm and hat in hand, directed his steps toward the apartment of his wife. At the door he paused for a moment to wipe his damp, pale brow. He then entered the room. Madame de Villefort was sitting on an ottoman and impatiently turning over the leaves of some newspapers and pamphlets which young Edward, by way of amusing himself, was tearing to pieces before his mother could finish reading them. She was dressed to go out, her bonnet was placed beside her on a chair, and her gloves were on her hands. 
"Ah, here you are, monsieur," she said in her naturally calm voice; "but how pale you are! Have you been working all night? Why did you not come down to breakfast? Well, will you take me, or shall I take Edward?" Madame de Villefort had multiplied her questions in order to gain one answer, but to all her inquiries M. de Villefort remained mute and cold as a statue. "Edward," said Villefort, fixing an imperious glance on the child, "go and play in the drawing-room, my dear; I wish to speak to your mamma." Madame de Villefort shuddered at the sight of that cold countenance, that resolute tone, and the awfully strange preliminaries. Edward raised his head, looked at his mother, and then, finding that she did not confirm the order, began cutting off the heads of his leaden soldiers. 
"Edward," cried M. de Villefort, so harshly that the child started up from the floor, "do you hear me?--Go!" The child, unaccustomed to such treatment, arose, pale and trembling; it would be difficult to say whether his emotion were caused by fear or passion. His father went up to him, took him in his arms, and kissed his forehead. "Go," he said: "go, my child." Edward ran out. M. de Villefort went to the door, which he closed behind the child, and bolted. "Dear me!" said the young woman, endeavoring to read her husband's inmost thoughts, while a smile passed over her countenance which froze the impassibility of Villefort; "what is the matter?" 
"Madame, where do you keep the poison you generally use?" said the magistrate, without any introduction, placing himself between his wife and the door. 
Madame de Villefort must have experienced something of the sensation of a bird which, looking up, sees the murderous trap closing over its head. A hoarse, broken tone, which was neither a cry nor a sigh, escaped from her, while she became deadly pale. "Monsieur," she said, "I--I do not understand you." And, in her first paroxysm of terror, she had raised herself from the sofa, in the next, stronger very likely than the other, she fell down again on the cushions. "I asked you," continued Villefort, in a perfectly calm tone, "where you conceal the poison by the aid of which you have killed my father-in-law, M. de Saint-M¨|ran, my mother-in-law, Madame de Saint-M¨|ran, Barrois, and my daughter Valentine." 
"Ah, sir," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, clasping her hands, "what do you say?" 
"It is not for you to interrogate, but to answer." 
"Is it to the judge or to the husband?" stammered Madame de Villefort. "To the judge--to the judge, madame!" It was terrible to behold the frightful pallor of that woman, the anguish of her look, the trembling of her whole frame. "Ah, sir," she muttered, "ah, sir," and this was all. 
"You do not answer, madame!" exclaimed the terrible interrogator. Then he added, with a smile yet more terrible than his anger, "It is true, then; you do not deny it!" She moved forward. "And you cannot deny it!" added Villefort, extending his hand toward her, as though to seize her in the name of justice. "You have accomplished these different crimes with impudent address, but which could only deceive those whose affections for you blinded them. Since the death of Madame de Saint-M¨|ran, I have known that a poisoner lived in my house. M. d'Avrigny warned me of it. After the death of Barrois my suspicions were directed towards an angel,--those suspicions which, even when there is no crime, are always alive in my heart; but after the death of Valentine, there has been no doubt in my mind, madame, and not only in mine, but in those of others; thus your crime, known by two persons, suspected by many, will soon become public, and, as I told you just now, you no longer speak to the husband, but to the judge." 
The young woman hid her face in her hands. "Oh, sir," she stammered, "I beseech you, do not believe appearances." 
"Are you, then, a coward?" cried Villefort, in a contemptuous voice. "But I have always observed that poisoners were cowards. Can you be a coward,--you who have had the courage to witness the death of two old men and a young girl murdered by you?" 
"Sir! sir!" 
"Can you be a coward?" continued Villefort, with increasing excitement, "you, who could count, one by one, the minutes of four death agonies? You, who have arranged your infernal plans, and removed the beverages with a talent and precision almost miraculous? Have you, then, who have calculated everything with such nicety, have you forgotten to calculate one thing--I mean where the revelation of your crimes will lead you to? Oh, it is impossible--you must have saved some surer, more subtle and deadly poison than any other, that you might escape the punishment that you deserve. You have done this--I hope so, at least." Madame de Villefort stretched out her hands, and fell on her knees. 
"I understand," he said, "you confess; but a confession made to the judges, a confession made at the last moment, extorted when the crime cannot be denied, diminishes not the punishment inflicted on the guilty!" 
"The punishment?" exclaimed Madame de Villefort, "the punishment, monsieur? Twice you have pronounced that word!" 
"Certainly. Did you hope to escape it because you were four times guilty? Did you think the punishment would be withheld because you are the wife of him who pronounces it?--No, madame, no; the scaffold awaits the poisoner, whoever she may be, unless, as I just said, the poisoner has taken the precaution of keeping for herself a few drops of her deadliest potion." Madame de Villefort uttered a wild cry, and a hideous and uncontrollable terror spread over her distorted features. "Oh, do not fear the scaffold, madame," said the magistrate; "I will not dishonor you, since that would be dishonor to myself; no, if you have heard me distinctly, you will understand that you are not to die on the scaffold." 
"No, I do not understand; what do you mean?" stammered the unhappy woman, completely overwhelmed. "I mean that the wife of the first magistrate in the capital shall not, by her infamy, soil an unblemished name; that she shall not, with one blow, dishonor her husband and her child." 
"No, no--oh, no!" 
"Well, madame, it will be a laudable action on your part, and I will thank you for it!" 
"You will thank me--for what?" 
"For what you have just said." 
"What did I say? Oh, my brain whirls; I no longer understand anything. Oh, my God, my God!" And she rose, with her hair dishevelled, and her lips foaming. 
"Have you answered the question I put to you on entering the room?--where do you keep the poison you generally use, madame?" Madame de Villefort raised her arms to heaven, and convulsively struck one hand against the other. "No, no," she vociferated, "no, you cannot wish that!" 
"What I do not wish, madame, is that you should perish on the scaffold. Do you understand?" asked Villefort. 
"Oh, mercy, mercy, monsieur!" 
"What I require is, that justice be done. I am on the earth to punish, madame," he added, with a flaming glance; "any other woman, were it the queen herself, I would send to the executioner; but to you I shall be merciful. To you I will say, 'Have you not, madame, put aside some of the surest, deadliest, most speedy poison?'" 
"Oh, pardon me, sir; let me live!" 
"She is cowardly," said Villefort. 
"Reflect that I am your wife!" 
"You are a poisoner." 
"In the name of heaven!" 
"No!" 
"In the name of the love you once bore me!" 
"No, no!" 
"In the name of our child! Ah, for the sake of our child, let me live!" 
"No, no, no, I tell you; one day, if I allow you to live, you will perhaps kill him, as you have the others!" 
"I?--I kill my boy?" cried the distracted mother, rushing toward Villefort; "I kill my son? Ha, ha, ha!" and a frightful, demoniac laugh finished the sentence, which was lost in a hoarse rattle. Madame de Villefort fell at her husband's feet. He approached her. "Think of it, madame," he said; "if, on my return, justice his not been satisfied, I will denounce you with my own mouth, and arrest you with my own hands!" She listened, panting, overwhelmed, crushed; her eye alone lived, and glared horribly. "Do you understand me?" he said. "I am going down there to pronounce the sentence of death against a murderer. If I find you alive on my return, you shall sleep to-night in the conci¨¨rgerie." 
Madame de Villefort sighed; her nerves gave way, and she sunk on the carpet. The king's attorney seemed to experience a sensation of pity; he looked upon her less severely, and, bowing to her, said slowly, 
"Farewell, madame, farewell!" 
That farewell struck Madame de Villefort like the executioner's knife. She fainted. The procureur went out, after having double-locked the door.  
我们记得，布沙尼长老和诺瓦蒂埃曾留在瓦朗蒂姆的房间里，为那年轻女郎守过灵。也许是长老的劝戒，也许是由于他那种温文慈爱的态度，也许是由于他那种富于说服力的劝戒，总之，诺瓦蒂埃勇气恢复了，因为自从他与神父谈过话以后，他那绝望心情已变为一种宁静的听天由命态度，了解他的人，无不感到惊奇。 
自从瓦朗蒂娜去世的那天，维尔福先生没有去看过他的父亲。整幢房子都变了样。他用了一个新仆人班，诺瓦蒂埃也换了一个新的仆人。侍候维尔福夫人的两个女佣也是新来的。事实上，从门房到车夫，全都是新来的仆人，而自从那座受天诅咒的房子里的主人添了这几个新人以后，他们本来冷淡的关系就冷淡得近乎疏远了。 
法庭再过两三天就要开庭，维尔福把自己关在房间里，以一种狂热的心情准备控告谋害卡德罗斯的凶手材料。这件案子，象其他一切有关基督山伯爵的案子，已轰动了巴黎。证据当然并不确凿，主要证据是监 
里的逃犯所留下的几个字，他有可能因旧恨宿怨，借此来诬告他的同伴。但检察官已下定决心。他确信贝尼代托是有罪的，他想从那种克服困难的胜利中获得一种自私的喜悦来温暖他那冰冷的心。 
维尔福希望把这件谋杀案排为大审中的第一件案子，他不断地工作，一切都已准备就绪。他不得不更严密地隐藏自己，以躲避那无数向他来讨听证的人，可怜的瓦朗蒂娜去世只有几天，笼罩这座屋子的阴郁还这样浓重，这位父亲是严肃地尽自己的责任，这也是他在悲痛中找到的唯一消遣，任何人看到这种情景也会感动的。 
维尔福和他的父亲只见过一次，那是在贝尔图乔第二次访问贝尼代托，贝尼代托知道他父亲的名字的第二天。那位法官疲惫不堪地走进花园，由于他心中已经由于怨恨而下了决定，他象塔根王［罗马的第五朝国王。——译注］截断最高的罂粟花一样，用他的手杖敲断走道两边玫瑰树上垂死的长枝，这些丫枝在以前虽然开出灿烂的花朵，但现在则似乎已象幽灵一样。他以同样的步伐和同样的态度来回地在一条走道上踱步了。他偶尔回头向屋子里望去，因为他听到了儿子喧闹的嘻笑声，他的儿子每逢星期天便从学校里回来，到星期二再离开他的母亲回学校。当维尔福向屋子里望去的时候，正巧看见诺瓦蒂埃先生坐在一扇打开着的窗子后面，在享受落日的余辉。傍晚的太阳还能产生一些暖意，照射在那盘绕在阳台四周的爬墙类植物的枯萎的花上和红色的叶子上。 
老人在看什么，维尔福看不清楚。但他的目光充满着仇恨、残酷和暴躁，维尔福急忙转出他所走的那条小路去看他父亲。他看见：在一大丛几乎落光了叶子的菩提树下，维尔福夫人坐在那儿，手里拿着一本书，她不时停止阅读，向她的儿子微笑一下，或是把他顽皮地从客厅里抛出来的皮球投回去。维尔福的脸色苍白，他明白老人的意思。诺瓦蒂埃继续望维尔福夫人，突然间，老人的眼光从那妻子转移到丈夫的身上用他那一对气势汹汹的眼睛来攻击维尔福。那种眼光虽然已改变了目标和含义，却毫未减少那种威胁的表情。维尔福夫人没想到诺瓦蒂埃会如此恨她，这时她正拿住她儿子的球，向他表示要吻他。爱德华恳求了好一会儿，因为他认为母亲的一吻或许还抵偿不了他取得这一吻的麻烦，但是，他终于答应母亲了，他翻过窗口，穿过一丛金盏草和延命菊，汗流满面地向母亲奔过来。维尔福夫人抹掉他脸上的汗，在他的前额上吻了一下，让他一手拿着球，一手拿着糖果跑回去。 
维尔福被一种不可抗拒的力吸引着，象蛇慑服的小鸟一样，不由自主向屋子走过去。当他向屋子走过去的时候，诺瓦蒂埃的目光始终跟随着他，他眼睛里的怒火象要喷射出来，维尔福觉得那一对眼睛中的怒火已穿透到他心灵的深处。这种急切的目光中所表示的是一种深刻的遣责和一种可怕的威胁。然后，诺瓦蒂埃抬起头望着天，象是在提醒他的儿子，不要忘记了自己的誓言。“好，阁下，”维尔福在下面答道，—— 
“好吧，请再忍耐一天，我说话是算数的。”诺瓦蒂埃听了这几句话似乎平静了，他的眼睛漠然地转到另一个方向。维尔福用力解开那件似乎要窒息他的大衣纽扣，用他那只毫无血色的手按在额上，走进他的书房。夜冷而静；全家人都休息了，只有维尔福一直工作到早晨五点钟，他又重新审阅检察官昨天晚上所录的最后的预审口供，编纂证人的阵述词，终于结束了那份他生平最雄辩有力和最周到的起诉书。 
第二天是星期一，是法庭开庭审判日子。早晨的天气阴沉得很，维尔福看见昏暗的灰白色的光线照到他用红墨水写成起诉书上。。他只在蜡烛垂熄的时候睡了一会儿。烛火毕剥声唤醒了他，他发觉他的手指象浸在血里一样潮湿和青紫。他打开窗户，天边上横贯着一条桔红的晨露，把那在黑暗里显出轮廓的白杨横截为二。在栗子树后面的苜宿园里，一只百灵鸟冲向天空，传来清脆的晨歌。润湿的空气向维尔福迎面扑来，他的记忆又清晰起来。“今天，”他有力地说，—— 
“今天，只要是有罪的地方，那个握着法律之刀的人就必需打击一切罪犯了。”他的眼睛不由自主地转向他昨天傍晚看见诺瓦蒂埃的那个窗口。窗帘垂下，可是，他父亲的样子在他的脑子里是这样的清晰，以致他对那关着的窗户说道，好象它依旧开着，而且依旧还可以看见那愤怒的老人似的。“是的，” 
他低声说，——“是的，放心吧。” 
他的头垂到胸前，就这么垂着头在书房里踱来踱去，然后他倒在一张沙发上，他整夜未睡，现在他想休息一下。他的四肢，因为工作的疲劳，破晓的寒意，使他四肢僵硬。渐渐地，大家都醒来了，维尔福从他的书斋里相继听到了那组成一个家庭生活的声音，——门的开关声，维尔福夫人召唤侍女的铃声，夹杂着孩子起床时和往常一样的欢呼声。维尔福也拉铃，他的仆人给他拿来了报纸和一杯巧克力。 
“你拿给我的是什么？”他说。 
“一杯巧克力。” 
“我并没有要。是谁这样关心我的？” 
“是夫人，先生。她说您在今天审理那件谋杀案上要说许多话，您应该吃些东西来保证您的精力。”于是那跟班就把杯子放在离沙发最近的那张桌子上，桌子上堆满了文件——，然后离开房间。 
维尔福带着的神情阴郁地向那杯子望了一会儿，然后，突然神经质地端起杯子，一口喝干。他的样子让人感到他希望那种饮料会致他于死地，他是在用死推脱他应该履行一种比死更难过的责任。然后他站起来，带着一个令人发怵的微笑在房间里踱来踱去。那杯巧克力并不是毒药，维尔福先生喝了以后并没有不良反应。该进午餐了，但在餐桌前维尔福先生没有让仆人走进他的书房。 
“维尔福夫人想提醒您一声，先生，”他说，“十一点钟已经敲过了，法院是在十二点钟开庭。” 
“嗯！”维尔福说，“还有呢？” 
“维尔福夫人换好衣服，作好了准备，问一下是否要她陪您去，先生？” 
“到哪儿去？” 
“到法院去。” 
“去干什么？” 
“夫人说，她很希望能去旁听。” 
“哼！”维尔福用一种让仆人感到吃惊的口气说，“她想去旁听？” 
仆人往后退了一步说：“先生，如果您希望一个人去，我就去告诉夫人。” 
维尔福沉默片刻，用手指按着他那苍白的脸颊。“告诉夫人，”他终于答道，“我有话要跟她说，请她在她房间里等我。” 
“是，先生。” 
“然后就回来给我穿衣服、刮脸。” 
“马上就来，先生。” 
仆人出去以后，很快赶了回来，给他的主人刮了脸，服侍他穿上庄严的黑色的衣服。当他做完这一切的时候，他就说：“夫人说，希望先生穿好衣服以后就过去。” 
“我这就去。”于是，维尔福带着文件，手里拿着帽子，向他妻子的房间走去。到房门口，他停了一会儿，用手按了按他那潮湿的苍白的额头。然后他走进房间，维尔福夫人正坐在一张长榻上，正在那儿不耐烦地翻阅几张报纸和一些被小爱德华他母亲还未读完以前就撕破了的小册子。她穿着出门的衣服，她的帽子放在身边的一张椅子上，手上戴着手套。 
“啊！你来了，阁下，”她用她那种很自然很平静的声音说，“你的脸色不太好！你又整夜没睡？你为什么不下来用午餐呢？嗯，你带我去呢，还是让我在家里看着爱德华？” 
维尔福夫人问了许多问题，想得到一个答复，但对于她所提出的问题，维尔福先生冷淡得象一尊石像一样。 
“爱德华！”维尔福用一种威严的语气对孩子说，“到客厅里去玩，我的宝贝。我要和你妈妈谈话。” 
维尔福夫人看到那张冷酷的面孔、那种坚决的口气以及那种奇怪的开场白，不禁打了个寒颤。爱德华抬起头来，看看他的母亲，发觉她并没有认可父亲的命令，便开始割他那些小铅笔头。 
“爱德华！”维尔福喊道，他的口气严厉异常，把孩子吓了一跳，“你听到我的话了吗？去！”那孩子不习惯被这样的对待，站起身来，面无血色，——但很难说是因为愤怒或是由于害怕。他的父亲走到他身边，抓住他的胳膀，在他的前额上吻了一下。“去，”他说，“去吧，我的孩子。” 
爱德华跑了出去。等那孩子一出去维尔福关上门，上了门闩。 
“噢，天哪！”那青年女人说，竭力想猜出她丈夫心里想些什么，她的脸上露出一个微笑，但那个微笑却不能软化维尔福冷冰冰的面孔。“出什么事啊？” 
“夫人，你平时用的毒药放在哪儿？”那法官站在他妻子与房中间，单刀直入地说。 
维尔福夫人这时的感觉，想必就是百灵鸟看到鹞鹰在它的头顶上盘旋时的感觉。她发出一声嘶哑的叫声。她的脸色由白变成死灰色。“阁下，”她说，“我——我不明白你的意思。” 
在第一阵恐怖的激发中，她从沙发上站起来，而在第二阵更强烈的恐怖中，她又倒回到沙发上。 
“我问你，”维尔福继续用一种十分平静的口气说，“你用来害死我的岳父圣·梅朗先生、我的岳母圣·梅朗夫人、巴罗斯以及我的女儿瓦朗蒂娜的那种毒药，藏在什么地方？” 
“啊，阁下，”维尔福夫人双手合在胸前喊道，“你在说什么呀？” 
“我不是要你问话，而是要你回答。” 
“回答丈夫呢还是回答法官？”维尔福夫人结结巴巴地问。 
“是回答法官，是回答法官，夫人！” 
那个女人惨白的脸色，痛苦的表情，以及她那种全身颤抖的情形，实在令人可怕。“啊，阁下！”她结结巴巴地说，—— 
“啊，阁下。”她只能说出这几个字。 
“你没有回答，夫人！”那可怕的审问者喊道。然后他露出一个比发怒时更恐怖的微笑说，“那么好，你并不否认！”她不由得全身一震。”而且你无法否认！”维尔福又说，向她伸出一只手，象是要凭法院的名义去捉她似的。“你以卑鄙的手段完成了那几次罪恶的行动，但你只能骗过那些为爱情而盲目了的人。自从圣·梅朗夫人去世的那天起，我就知道我的家里住着一个杀人犯。阿夫里尼先生提醒了我。巴罗斯死后（上帝宽恕我）我疑心过一个天使一样的人！——即使家里没有杀人犯，我的心里也总是存着疑心的。但自从瓦朗蒂娜死后，我脑子里一切不确定的疑念都排除了，不但是我，夫人，而且旁人也是如此。所以，你的罪，有两个人知道，有许多人怀疑，不久便要公开了，正如我刚才告诉你的，你已经不再是对丈夫说话而是在对法官说话了。” 
那年轻女人把她的脸埋在手里。“噢，阁下！”她结结巴巴地说，“我求求你不要被表面现象迷惑。” 
“那末，你是一个懦夫吗？”维尔福用一种鄙视的口气大声说。“我注意到：杀人犯都是懦夫。不过，你也是一个懦夫吗？——，你杀死了两个老人和一个年轻姑娘的而且还有勇气面对他们的死。” 
“阁下！阁下！” 
“你能是一个懦夫吗？”维尔福愈来愈激动地继续说，——“你，你能一分钟一分钟地计算四个人临死时痛苦的时间，你，你曾经熟练而成功地策划你那恶毒的计划调配你的毒药。你把一切事情计算得这样清楚，那么，难道你忘了考虑一件事情，——当你的罪行被揭发的时候，你将落到什么样的下场吗？噢，这是不可能的！你一定藏起了一些最有效、最可靠、最致命的毒药，好使你逃脱那等待着你的惩罚。你这样做了是吧，我至少希望如此。” 
维尔福夫人紧握着双手，跪了下来。 
“我明白，”他说，——“你认罪了，但对法官认罪，在不得不认罪的时候认罪，是不能减轻惩罚的！” 
“惩罚！”维尔福夫人喊道，——“惩罚，阁下！那句话你说了两遍啦！” 
“当然罗。你以为因为你犯了四次罪就可以逃脱吗？你以为因为你的丈夫是检察官，法律就会对你例外吗？不，夫人，不！断头台等待着罪犯，不论她是谁，除非，正如我刚才所说的，那下毒犯事先早有准备，为她自己也留下了最致命的毒药。” 
维尔福夫人发出一声疯狂喊叫，一种可怕的无法控制的恐怖的脸都变了形。 
“噢！不用担心断头台，夫人，”那法官说，“我不会让你名声扫地的，因为那也会使我自己名声扫地。不！假如你懂得我的意思，你就知道你不会死在断头台上。” 
“不！我不懂，你是什么意思？”那不幸的女人结结巴巴地说，她完全被弄糊涂了。 
“我的意思是：首都首席检察官的妻子不会以她的耻辱去玷污一个清白无瑕的姓氏，她不会同时让她的丈夫和她的孩子落到声名狼藉的地步。 
“不会的，噢，不会的！” 
“嗯，夫人，这将对你一个值得赞美的行动，我向你表示感谢。” 
“你感谢我，为了什么？” 
“为了你刚才所说的那句话。” 
“我说了什么话？噢，我吓昏了头了！我什么都不懂了！我的上帝！我的上帝呀！”她头发散乱，口带白沫地站起来。 
“夫人，我进房来的时候问你：‘夫人，你常用的那种毒药放在什么地方？’你已经答复那个问题。” 
维尔福夫人双臂举向天空，然后痉挛地把两手握在一起。 
“不，不！”她呼叫着，——“不，你不能希望看到那个！” 
“我所希望的，夫人，是你不应该在断头台上送命。你懂吗？”维尔福问。 
“噢，发发慈悲吧，发发慈悲吧，阁下！” 
“我所要求的，是伸张正义。我到这个世界上是为了惩恶扬善，夫人，”他眼中冒火。“任何其他女人，即使她是皇后，我也要把她交给刽子手，但对你，我已经心存慈悲了。对你，夫人，你没有保留几滴那种最可靠、最致命、最见效的毒药吗？” 
“噢，饶了我吧，阁下！留我一条命吧！” 
“你是一个杀人犯！” 
“看上帝的面上！” 
“不！” 
“看你我相爱的份上！” 
“不，不行！” 
“看我们孩子的面上！啊，为了我们的孩子，留我一条命吧！” 
“不！不！不！我告诉你，假如我允许你活下去的话，有一天，你或许会象杀死那几个人一样杀死我的孩子。！” 
“我！——我杀死我的孩子！”那迷惑的母亲向维尔福冲过去说，“我杀死我的！哈！哈！哈！”在一阵可怕的魔鬼般的狂笑中结束了她那句话，那种笑声最后变成了嘶哑的啜泣声。 
维尔福夫人双膝跪下。维尔福走到她身边。“记住，夫人，” 
他说，“如果在我回来的时候，正义还没有伸张，我就要亲自来宣布你的罪行，亲自来逮捕你！” 
她喘息着，听他说着，完全糊涂了，只有她的眼睛还显示她是个活物，那一对眼睛里还蕴蓄着一团可怕的火焰。 
“你明白我的意思了？”维尔福说，“我要去法庭要求判一个杀人犯的死刑。如果我回来的时候发现你还活着，那你今天晚上就要去睡在拘留所里了。” 
维尔福夫人呻吟了一声，全身瘫痪了似的倒在了地毯上。 
检察官似乎动了恻隐之心，缓慢地说：“永别了，夫人！” 
“那一声“永别了”象刽子手的刀刺到维尔福夫人身上一样。她昏了过去。检察官锁住房门走出去。 
Chapter 109 The Assizes
 THE BENEDETTO affair, as it was called at the Palais, and by people in general, had produced a tremendous sensation. Frequenting the Café de Paris, the Boulevard de Gand, and the Bois de Boulogne, during his brief career of splendor, the false Cavalcanti had formed a host of acquaintances. The papers had related his various adventures, both as the man of fashion and the galley-slave; and as every one who had been personally acquainted with Prince Andrea Cavalcanti experienced a lively curiosity in his fate, they all determined to spare no trouble in endeavoring to witness the trial of M. Benedetto for the murder of his comrade in chains. In the eyes of many, Benedetto appeared, if not a victim to, at least an instance of, the fallibility of the law. M. Cavalcanti, his father, had been seen in Paris, and it was expected that he would re-appear to claim the illustrious outcast. Many, also, who were not aware of the circumstances attending his withdrawal from Paris, were struck with the worthy appearance, the gentlemanly bearing, and the knowledge of the world displayed by the old patrician, who certainly played the nobleman very well, so long as he said nothing, and made no arithmetical calculations. As for the accused himself, many remembered him as being so amiable, so handsome, and so liberal, that they chose to think him the victim of some conspiracy, since in this world large fortunes frequently excite the malevolence and jealousy of some unknown enemy. Every one, therefore, ran to the court; some to witness the sight, others to comment upon it. From seven o'clock in the morning a crowd was stationed at the iron gates, and an hour before the trial commenced the hall was full of the privileged. Before the entrance of the magistrates, and indeed frequently afterwards, a court of justice, on days when some especial trial is to take place, resembles a drawing-room where many persons recognize each other and converse if they can do so without losing their seats; or, if they are separated by too great a number of lawyers, communicate by signs. 
It was one of the magnificent autumn days which make amends for a short summer; the clouds which M. de Villefort had perceived at sunrise had all disappeared as if by magic, and one of the softest and most brilliant days of September shone forth in all its splendor. 
Beauchamp, one of the kings of the press, and therefore claiming the right of a throne everywhere, was eying everybody through his monocle. He perceived Chateau-Renaud and Debray, who had just gained the good graces of a sergeant-at-arms, and who had persuaded the latter to let them stand before, instead of behind him, as they ought to have done. The worthy sergeant had recognized the minister's secretary and the millionnaire, and, by way of paying extra attention to his noble neighbors, promised to keep their places while they paid a visit to Beauchamp. 
"Well," said Beauchamp, "we shall see our friend!" 
"Yes, indeed!" replied Debray. "That worthy prince. Deuce take those Italian princes!" 
"A man, too, who could boast of Dante for a genealogist, and could reckon back to the Divine Comedy." 
"A nobility of the rope!" said Chateau-Renaud phlegmatically. 
"He will be condemned, will he not?" asked Debray of Beauchamp. 
"My dear fellow, I think we should ask you that question; you know such news much better than we do. Did you see the president at the minister's last night?" 
"Yes." 
"What did he say?" 
"Something which will surprise you." 
"Oh, make haste and tell me, then; it is a long time since that has happened." 
"Well, he told me that Benedetto, who is considered a serpent of subtlety and a giant of cunning, is really but a very commonplace, silly rascal, and altogether unworthy of the experiments that will be made on his phrenological organs after his death." 
"Bah," said Beauchamp, "he played the prince very well." 
"Yes, for you who detest those unhappy princes, Beauchamp, and are always delighted to find fault with them; but not for me, who discover a gentleman by instinct, and who scent out an aristocratic family like a very bloodhound of heraldry." 
"Then you never believed in the principality?" 
"Yes.--in the principality, but not in the prince." 
"Not so bad," said Beauchamp; "still, I assure you, he passed very well with many people; I saw him at the ministers' houses." 
"Ah, yes," said Chateau-Renaud. "The idea of thinking ministers understand anything about princes!" 
"There is something in what you have just said," said Beauchamp, laughing. 
"But," said Debray to Beauchamp, "if I spoke to the president, you must have been with the procureur." 
"It was an impossibility; for the last week M. de Villefort has secluded himself. It is natural enough; this strange chain of domestic afflictions, followed by the no less strange death of his daughter"-- 
"Strange? What do you mean, Beauchamp?" 
"Oh, yes; do you pretend that all this has been unobserved at the minister's?" said Beauchamp, placing his eye-glass in his eye, where he tried to make it remain. 
"My dear sir," said Chateau-Renaud, "allow me to tell you that you do not understand that manoeuvre with the eye-glass half so well as Debray. Give him a lesson, Debray." 
"Stay," said Beauchamp, "surely I am not deceived." 
"What is it?" 
"It is she!" 
"Whom do you mean?" 
"They said she had left." 
"Mademoiselle Eugénie?" said Chateau-Renaud; "has she returned?" 
"No, but her mother." 
"Madame Danglars? Nonsense! Impossible!" said Chateau-Renaud; "only ten days after the flight of her daughter, and three days from the bankruptcy of her husband?" 
Debray colored slightly, and followed with his eyes the direction of Beauchamp's glance. "Come," he said, "it is only a veiled lady, some foreign princess, perhaps the mother of Cavalcanti. But you were just speaking on a very interesting topic, Beauchamp." 
"I?" 
"Yes; you were telling us about the extraordinary death of Valentine." 
"Ah, yes, so I was. But how is it that Madame de Villefort is not here?" 
"Poor, dear woman," said Debray, "she is no doubt occupied in distilling balm for the hospitals, or in making cosmetics for herself or friends. Do you know she spends two or three thousand crowns a year in this amusement? But I wonder she is not here. I should have been pleased to see her, for I like her very much." 
"And I hate her," said Chateau-Renaud. 
"Why?" 
"I do not know. Why do we love? Why do we hate? I detest her, from antipathy." 
"Or, rather, by instinct." 
"Perhaps so. But to return to what you were saying, Beauchamp." 
"Well, do you know why they die so multitudinously at M. de Villefort's?" 
"'Multitudinously' is good," said Chateau-Renaud. 
"My good fellow, you'll find the word in Saint-Simon." 
"But the thing itself is at M. de Villefort's; but let's get back to the subject." 
"Talking of that," said Debray, "Madame was making inquiries about that house, which for the last three months has been hung with black." 
"Who is Madame?" asked Chateau-Renaud. 
"The minister's wife, pardieu!" 
"Oh, your pardon! I never visit ministers; I leave that to the princes." 
"Really, You were only before sparkling, but now you are brilliant; take compassion on us, or, like Jupiter, you will wither us up." 
"I will not speak again," said Chateau-Renaud; "pray have compassion upon me, and do not take up every word I say." 
"Come, let us endeavor to get to the end of our story, Beauchamp; I told you that yesterday Madame made inquiries of me upon the subject; enlighten me, and I will then communicate my information to her." 
"Well, gentlemen, the reason people die so multitudinously (I like the word) at M. de Villefort's is that there is an assassin in the house!" The two young men shuddered, for the same idea had more than once occurred to them. "And who is the assassin;" they asked together. 
"Young Edward!" A burst of laughter from the auditors did not in the least disconcert the speaker, who continued,--"Yes, gentlemen; Edward, the infant phenomenon, who is quite an adept in the art of killing." 
"You are jesting." 
"Not at all. I yesterday engaged a servant, who had just left M. de Villefort--I intend sending him away to-morrow, for he eats so enormously, to make up for the fast imposed upon him by his terror in that house. Well, now listen." 
"We are listening." 
"It appears the dear child has obtained possession of a bottle containing some drug, which he every now and then uses against those who have displeased him. First, M. and Madame de Saint-Méran incurred his displeasure, so he poured out three drops of his elixir--three drops were sufficient; then followed Barrois, the old servant of M. Noirtier, who sometimes rebuffed this little wretch--he therefore received the same quantity of the elixir; the same happened to Valentine, of whom he was jealous; he gave her the same dose as the others, and all was over for her as well as the rest." 
"Why, what nonsense are you telling us?" said Chateau-Renaud. 
"Yes, it is an extraordinary story," said Beauchamp; "is it not?" 
"It is absurd," said Debray. 
"Ah," said Beauchamp, "you doubt me? Well, you can ask my servant, or rather him who will no longer be my servant to-morrow, it was the talk of the house." 
"And this elixir, where is it? what is it?" 
"The child conceals it." 
"But where did he find it?" 
"In his mother's laboratory." 
"Does his mother then, keep poisons in her laboratory?" 
"How can I tell? You are questioning me like a king's attorney. I only repeat what I have been told, and like my informant I can do no more. The poor devil would eat nothing, from fear." 
"It is incredible!" 
"No, my dear fellow, it is not at all incredible. You saw the child pass through the Rue Richelieu last year, who amused himself with killing his brothers and sisters by sticking pins in their ears while they slept. The generation who follow us are very precocious." 
"Come, Beauchamp," said Chateau-Renaud, "I will bet anything you do not believe a word of all you have been telling us." 
"I do not see the Count of Monte Cristo here." 
"He is worn out," said Debray; "besides, he could not well appear in public, since he has been the dupe of the Cavalcanti, who, it appears, presented themselves to him with false letters of credit, and cheated him out of 100,000 francs upon the hypothesis of this principality." 
"By the way, M. de Chateau-Renaud," asked Beauchamp, "how is Morrel?" 
"Ma foi! I have called three times without once seeing him. Still, his sister did not seem uneasy, and told me that though she had not seen him for two or three days, she was sure he was well." 
"Ah, now I think of it, the Count of Monte Cristo cannot appear in the hall," said Beauchamp. 
"Why not?" 
"Because he is an actor in the drama." 
"Has he assassinated any one, then?" "No, on the contrary, they wished to assassinate him. You know that it was in leaving his house that M. de Caderousse was murdered by his friend Benedetto. You know that the famous waistcoat was found in his house, containing the letter which stopped the signature of the marriage-contract. Do you see the waistcoat? There it is, all blood-stained, on the desk, as a testimony of the crime." 
"Ah, very good." 
"Hush, gentlemen, here is the court; let us go back to our places." 
A noise was heard in the hall; the sergeant called his two patrons with an energetic "hem!" and the door-keeper appearing, called out with that shrill voice peculiar to his order, ever since the days of Beaumarchais, "The court, gentlemen!"  
法院里以及一般人口头所说的贝尼代托的案件已经轰动了整个巴黎。由于他时常出现于巴黎咖啡馆、安顿大马路和布洛涅大道上，所以在他短暂的显赫的日子里。这个假卡瓦尔康蒂已结交了一大批相识。报纸上曾报道他狱中的生活和冒充上流绅士时的经历；凡是认识卡瓦尔康蒂王子的人，对他的命运都有一种抑遏不住的好奇心，他们都决定不惜任何代价设法去旁听对贝尼代托案件审判。在许多人眼中，贝尼代托即使不是法律的一个牺牲品，至少也是法律的一个过失。 
他的父亲卡瓦尔康蒂先生曾在巴黎露过面，大家认为他会再来保护这个闻名遐迩的儿子。好些人知道他到基督山伯爵家里时穿的是绿底绣黑青蛙的外套，他们对他那种庄严的姿态和绅士风度曾留下很深刻的印象。的确，只要不张口说话，不计算数字，他扮演一个老贵族实在很出色。至于被告本人，在许多人的记忆中，他非常和蔼、漂亮豪爽，以致认为他可能是一次阴谋的牺牲品，因为在这个世界里，拥有财富常常会引起别人的暗中怨恨和嫉妒。所以，人人都想到法院里去，——有些是去看热闹，有些是去评头论足。从早晨七点钟起，铁门外便已排起了长队，在开庭前一小时，法庭里便已挤满了那些获得特许证的每逢到审判某一件特殊案子的日子，在法官进来以前，有时甚至在法官进来以后，法庭象一个客厅一样，许多互相认识的人打招呼、谈话，而他们中间隔着太多的律师、旁观者和宪兵的时候，他们就用暗号来互相交流。 
这是一个夏季过后的一个秋高气爽的日子。维尔福先生早晨所看见的那些云层都已象耍魔术似地消失了，这是九月里最温和最灿烂的一天。 
波尚正在向四周张望，他是无冕国王，每一个地方都有他的宝座。他看见了夏多·勒诺和德布雷，德布雷这时刚劝服坐在他们前面的一个副警长和他们交换座位。那可敬的副警长，认识部长的秘书和这位新的财主，便答应特别照顾这两位旁听者，允许当他们去同波尚打招呼的时候为他们保留座位。 
“嗯！”波尚说，“我们就要看见我们的朋友啦！” 
“是的，的确！”德布雷答道。“那可敬的王子！那个意大利王子真是见鬼！” 
“他是但丁给他写过家谱，在《神曲》里有案可查呀。” 
“该上绞刑架的贵族！”夏多·勒诺冷冷地说。 
“他会判死刑吗？”德布雷问波尚。 
“亲爱的，我认为那个问题是应该我们来问你呐，这种消息你比我们灵通得多。你昨天晚上在部长的家里见到审判长了吗？” 
“见到了。” 
“他怎么说？” 
“说出来会使你们大吃一惊。” 
“噢，赶快告诉我吧，那么！我有好久都不曾听到惊人的事情了。” 
“嗯，他告诉我说：贝尼代托被人认为是一条狡猾的蛇、一个机警的巨人，实际上他只是一个非常愚蠢的下等流氓，他的脑子结构在死后是不值得加以分析的。” 
“什么！”波尚说，“他扮演王子扮得非常妙呀。” 
“在你看来是这样，你厌恶那些倒霉的亲王，总是很高兴能在他们身上发现过错，但在我则不然，我凭本能就能辨别一位绅士，能象一只研究家谱学的猎犬那样嗅出一个贵族家庭的气息。” 
“那么你从来都不相信他有头衔罗？” 
“相信！相信亲王头衔，但不相信他有王子的风度。” 
“错啊，”德布雷说，“可是，我向你保证，他跟许多人交往得非常好，我曾在部长的家里遇到过他。” 
“啊，是的！”夏多·勒诺说。“你认为部长就能懂得王子的风度吗！” 
“你刚才说的话很妙，夏多·勒诺。”波尚大笑着说。 
“但是，”德布雷对波尚说，如果说我与审判长谈过话，你大概就与检察官谈过话了吧。” 
“那是不可能的事。最近这一星期来，维尔福先生家发生了一连串奇怪的家庭伤心事，还有他女儿奇怪的死去。” 
“奇怪！你是什么意思，波尚？” 
“噢，行了！别装样了，难道部长家里发生的这一切你毫无知觉吗？”波尚说，一面把单眼镜搁到他的眼睛上，竭边想使它不掉下来。 
“我亲爱的阁下，”夏多·勒诺说，“允许我告诉你：对于摆弄单片眼镜，你懂得还不及德布雷的一半呢。教他一教，德布雷。” 
“看，”波尚说，“我不会弄错的呀。” 
“出什么事了？” 
“是她！” 
“她？她是谁呀？” 
“他们说她已离开巴黎了呀。” 
“欧热妮小姐？”夏多·勒诺说，“她回来了吗？” 
“不，是她的母亲。” 
“腾格拉尔夫人？胡说！不可能的，”夏多·勒诺说，”她女儿出走才十天，她丈夫破产才三天，她就到外面来了。” 
德布雷略微红了红脸，顺着波尚所指的方向望去。“噢，” 
他说，“那只是一位戴面纱的贵妇人，一位外国公主，——或许是卡瓦尔康蒂的母亲。但你刚才在谈一个非常有趣的问题，波尚。” 
“我？” 
“是的，你在告诉我们关于瓦朗蒂娜奇特的死。” 
“啊，是的，不错。但维尔福夫人怎么不在这儿呢？” 
“可怜又可爱的女人！”德布雷说，“她无疑是正忙着为医院提炼药水，或为她自己和她的朋友配制美容剂。你们可知道她每年在这种娱乐上要花掉两三千银币吗？我很高兴看见她，因为我非常喜欢她。” 
“我却非常讨厌她。”夏多·勒诺说。 
“为什么？” 
“我不知道。我们为什么会爱？我们为什么会恨？我是天生讨厌她的。” 
“说得更准确些，是出于本能。” 
“或许如此。但还是回到你所说的话题上来吧，波尚。” 
“好！”波尚答道，“诸位，你们想不想知道维尔福家为什么一下子死了那么多人？” 
“多才好呢。”夏多·勒诺说。 
“亲爱的，你可以在圣西门的书里找到那句话。” 
“但事情发生在维尔福先生的家里，所以，我们还是回到事情本身上来吧。” 
“对！”德布雷说，“你承认我一直都在注意着那座房子，最近三个月来，那儿始终挂着黑纱，前天，夫人还对我说起那座房子与瓦朗蒂娜的关系呢。” 
“夫人是谁？”夏多·勒诺问道。 
“当然是部长的太太罗！” 
“噢，对不起！我从来没有拜访过部长，让王子们去做那种事情。” 
“真的，以前你只是漂亮，现在你变得光彩照人了，伯爵，可怜可怜我们吧，不然你就象另外一个朱庇特，把我们都烧死啦。” 
“我不再说话了！”夏多·勒诺说，“真见鬼，别挑剔我所说的每一个字吧。” 
“来，让们来听完你的故事吧，波尚，我告诉你，夫人前天还问到我这件事情。开导我一下吧，让我去告诉她一些消息。” 
“嗯，诸位，维尔福先生家里的人之所以死得那样多，是因为那座屋子里有一个杀人犯！” 
那两个年轻人都打了一个寒颤，因为这种念头他们已不止想到过一次了。 
“那个杀人犯是谁呢？”他们同声问。 
“爱德华！” 
听者所爆发出来的一阵大笑丝毫末使那个说话的人，感到窘迫，他继续说：“是的，诸位，是爱德华，他在杀人的技术方面可称得上是一个老手。” 
“你在开玩笑。” 
“决不。我昨天雇用了一个刚从维尔福先生家逃出来的仆人。我准备明天就打发他走了，他的饭量是这样的大，他要补充他在那座屋子里吓得不敢进食的损失。嗯！听我说。” 
“我们在听着呢。” 
“看来很可能是那可爱的孩子弄到了一只装着某种药水的瓶子，他随时用它来对付他所不喜欢的那些人。最初是圣·梅朗夫人让他厌恶，所以他就把他的药倒出了三滴，——三滴就是够让她丧命了。然后是那勇敢的巴罗斯，诺瓦蒂埃爷爷的老仆人，他不免要触犯那可爱的孩子，这是你们知道的。那可爱的孩子也给了他三滴药。然后就轮到那可怜的瓦朗蒂娜了，她并没有得罪他，但是他嫉妒她，他同样给她倒了三滴药精，而她象其他的人一样，走向了末日。” 
“咦，你讲给我们听的是一个什么鬼故事呀？”夏多·勒诺说。 
“是的，”波尚说，“属于另一个世界上故事，是不是？” 
“荒谬绝伦。”德布雷说。 
“啊！”波尚说，“你怀疑我？嗯，你可以去问我的仆人，或说得更确切些，去问那个明天就不再是我的仆人的那个人，那座屋子里的人都那样说。” 
“而这种药水呢？它在什么地方？它是什么东西？” 
“那孩子把它藏起来了。” 
“但他在哪儿找到的呢？” 
“在他母亲的实验室里。” 
“那么，是他的母亲把毒药放在实验室里的吗？” 
“这叫我怎么回答呢？你简直象一个检察官在审问犯人似的。我只是复述我所听到的话而已。我让你们自己去打听，此外我就无能为力了。那个可怜的家伙前一阵吓得不敢吃东西。” 
“简直让人难以置信！” 
“不，亲爱的，这并没有什么无法理解的，你看见去年黎希街的那个孩子吗？他乘他哥哥姊姊睡着的时候把一枚针戳到他们的耳朵里，弄死了他们，他只是觉得这样好玩。我们的后一代非常早熟的！” 
“来，波尚，”夏多·勒诺说，“我可以打赌，你讲给我们听的这个故事，实际上你自己压根都不相信，是不是！”我没有看见基督山伯爵，他为什么不来？” 
“他是不爱凑热闹的，”德布雷说，“而且，他在这儿露面不大适当，因为他刚让卡瓦尔康蒂敲去了一笔钱，卡瓦尔康蒂大概是拿着假造的介绍信去见他，骗走了他十万法郎。” 
“且慢，夏多·勒诺先生，”波尚说，“莫雷尔出什么事了？” 
“真的！我拜访过他三次，一次都没有见到他。可是，他的妹妹似乎并没有什么不安的样子，她对我说，虽然她也有两三天没有见到他了，但她确信他很好。” 
“啊，现在我明白为什么，基督山伯爵不能在法庭上露面了！”波尚说。 
“为什么不能？” 
“因为他是这幕戏里的一个演员。” 
“那么，难道是他暗杀了谁吗？”德布雷问。 
“不，正巧相反，他是他们想暗杀的目标。你们知道：卡德鲁斯先生是在离开他家的时候被他的朋友贝尼代托杀死的。你们知道：那件曾轰动一时的背心是在伯爵的家里找到的，里面藏着那封阻止签订婚约的信。你们见过那件背心吗？血迹斑斑的，在那张桌子上，充作物证。” 
“啊，好极了！” 
“嘘，诸位，法官来了，让我们回到自己的位子上去吧。” 
法庭里响起一阵骚动声，那位副警长向他的两个被保护人用力地招呼了一声“喂！”司仪出现了，他用博马舍时代以来干他这一职业的人所特具的尖锐的声音喊道：“开庭了，诸位！”
Chapter 110 The Indictment
 THE JUDGES took their places in the midst of the most profound silence; the jury took their seats; M. de Villefort, the object of unusual attention, and we had almost said of general admiration, sat in the arm-chair and cast a tranquil glance around him. Every one looked with astonishment on that grave and severe face, whose calm expression personal griefs had been unable to disturb, and the aspect of a man who was a stranger to all human emotions excited something very like terror. 
"Gendarmes," said the president, "lead in the accused." 
At these words the public attention became more intense, and all eyes were turned towards the door through which Benedetto was to enter. The door soon opened and the accused appeared. The same impression was experienced by all present, and no one was deceived by the expression of his countenance. His features bore no sign of that deep emotion which stops the beating of the heart and blanches the cheek. His hands, gracefully placed, one upon his hat, the other in the opening of his white waistcoat, were not at all tremulous; his eye was calm and even brilliant. Scarcely had he entered the hall when he glanced at the whole body of magistrates and assistants; his eye rested longer on the president, and still more so on the king's attorney. By the side of Andrea was stationed the lawyer who was to conduct his defence, and who had been appointed by the court, for Andrea disdained to pay any attention to those details, to which he appeared to attach no importance. The lawyer was a young man with light hair whose face expressed a hundred times more emotion than that which characterized the prisoner. 
The president called for the indictment, revised as we know, by the clever and implacable pen of Villefort. During the reading of this, which was long, the public attention was continually drawn towards Andrea, who bore the inspection with Spartan unconcern. Villefort had never been so concise and eloquent. The crime was depicted in the most vivid colors; the former life of the prisoner, his transformation, a review of his life from the earliest period, were set forth with all the talent that a knowledge of human life could furnish to a mind like that of the procureur. Benedetto was thus forever condemned in public opinion before the sentence of the law could be pronounced. Andrea paid no attention to the successive charges which were brought against him. M. de Villefort, who examined him attentively, and who no doubt practiced upon him all the psychological studies he was accustomed to use, in vain endeavored to make him lower his eyes, notwithstanding the depth and profundity of his gaze. At length the reading of the indictment was ended. 
"Accused," said the president, "your name and surname?" Andrea arose. "Excuse me, Mr. President," he said, in a clear voice, "but I see you are going to adopt a course of questions through which I cannot follow you. I have an idea, which I will explain by and by, of making an exception to the usual form of accusation. Allow me, then, if you please, to answer in different order, or I will not do so at all." The astonished president looked at the jury, who in turn looked at Villefort. The whole assembly manifested great surprise, but Andrea appeared quite unmoved. "Your age?" said the president; "will you answer that question?" 
"I will answer that question, as well as the rest, Mr. President, but in its turn." 
"Your age?" repeated the president. 
"I am twenty-one years old, or rather I shall be in a few days, as I was born the night of the 27th of September, 1817." 
M. de Villefort, who was busy taking down some notes, raised his head at the mention of this date. "Where were you born?" continued the president. 
"At Auteuil, near Paris." M. de Villefort a second time raised his head, looked at Benedetto as if he had been gazing at the head of Medusa, and became livid. As for Benedetto, he gracefully wiped his lips with a fine cambric pocket-handkerchief. "Your profession?" "First I was a forger," answered Andrea, as calmly as possible; "then I became a thief, and lately have become an assassin." A murmur, or rather storm, of indignation burst from all parts of the assembly. The judges themselves appeared to be stupefied, and the jury manifested tokens of disgust for cynicism so unexpected in a man of fashion. M. de Villefort pressed his hand upon his brow, which, at first pale, had become red and burning; then he suddenly arose and looked around as though he had lost his senses--he wanted air. 
"Are you looking for anything, Mr. Procureur?" asked Benedetto, with his most ingratiating smile. M. de Villefort answered nothing, but sat, or rather threw himself down again upon his chair. "And now, prisoner, will you consent to tell your name?" said the president. "The brutal affectation with which you have enumerated and classified your crimes calls for a severe reprimand on the part of the court, both in the name of morality, and for the respect due to humanity. You appear to consider this a point of honor, and it may be for this reason, that you have delayed acknowledging your name. You wished it to be preceded by all these titles." 
"It is quite wonderful, Mr. President, how entirely you have read my thoughts," said Benedetto, in his softest voice and most polite manner. "This is, indeed, the reason why I begged you to alter the order of the questions." The public astonishment had reached its height. There was no longer any deceit or bravado in the manner of the accused. The audience felt that a startling revelation was to follow this ominous prelude. 
"Well," said the president; "your name?" 
"I cannot tell you my name, since I do not know it; but I know my father's, and can tell it to you." 
A painful giddiness overwhelmed Villefort; great drops of acrid sweat fell from his face upon the papers which he held in his convulsed hand. 
"Repeat your father's name," said the president. Not a whisper, not a breath, was heard in that vast assembly; every one waited anxiously. 
"My father is king's attorney," replied Andrea calmly. 
"King's attorney?" said the president, stupefied, and without noticing the agitation which spread over the face of M. de Villefort; "king's attorney?" 
"Yes; and if you wish to know his name, I will tell it,--he is named Villefort." The explosion, which had been so long restrained from a feeling of respect to the court of justice, now burst forth like thunder from the breasts of all present; the court itself did not seek to restrain the feelings of the audience. The exclamations, the insults addressed to Benedetto, who remained perfectly unconcerned, the energetic gestures, the movement of the gendarmes, the sneers of the scum of the crowd always sure to rise to the surface in case of any disturbance--all this lasted five minutes, before the door-keepers and magistrates were able to restore silence. In the midst of this tumult the voice of the president was heard to exclaim,--"Are you playing with justice, accused, and do you dare set your fellow-citizens an example of disorder which even in these times his never been equalled?" 
Several persons hurried up to M. de Villefort, who sat half bowed over in his chair, offering him consolation, encouragement, and protestations of zeal and sympathy. Order was re-established in the hall, except that a few people still moved about and whispered to one another. A lady, it was said, had just fainted; they had supplied her with a smelling-bottle, and she had recovered. During the scene of tumult, Andrea had turned his smiling face towards the assembly; then, leaning with one hand on the oaken rail of the dock, in the most graceful attitude possible, he said: "Gentlemen, I assure you I had no idea of insulting the court, or of making a useless disturbance in the presence of this honorable assembly. They ask my age; I tell it. They ask where I was born; I answer. They ask my name, I cannot give it, since my parents abandoned me. But though I cannot give my own name, not possessing one, I can tell them my father's. Now I repeat, my father is named M. de Villefort, and I am ready to prove it." 
There was an energy, a conviction, and a sincerity in the manner of the young man, which silenced the tumult. All eyes were turned for a moment towards the procureur, who sat as motionless as though a thunderbolt had changed him into a corpse. "Gentlemen," said Andrea, commanding silence by his voice and manner; "I owe you the proofs and explanations of what I have said." 
"But," said the irritated president, "you called yourself Benedetto, declared yourself an orphan, and claimed Corsica as your country." 
"I said anything I pleased, in order that the solemn declaration I have just made should not be withheld, which otherwise would certainly have been the case. I now repeat that I was born at Auteuil on the night of the 27th of September, 1817, and that I am the son of the procureur, M. de Villefort. Do you wish for any further details? I will give them. I was born in No. 28, Rue de la Fontaine, in a room hung with red damask; my father took me in his arms, telling my mother I was dead, wrapped me in a napkin marked with an H and an N, and carried me into a garden, where he buried me alive." 
A shudder ran through the assembly when they saw that the confidence of the prisoner increased in proportion to the terror of M. de Villefort. "But how have you become acquainted with all these details?" asked the president. 
"I will tell you, Mr. President. A man who had sworn vengeance against my father, and had long watched his opportunity to kill him, had introduced himself that night into the garden in which my father buried me. He was concealed in a thicket; he saw my father bury something in the ground, and stabbed him; then thinking the deposit might contain some treasure he turned up the ground, and found me still living. The man carried me to the foundling asylum, where I was registered under the number 37. Three months afterwards, a woman travelled from Rogliano to Paris to fetch me, and having claimed me as her son, carried me away. Thus, you see, though born in Paris, I was brought up in Corsica." 
There was a moment's silence, during which one could have fancied the hall empty, so profound was the stillness. "Proceed," said the president. 
"Certainly, I might have lived happily amongst those good people, who adored me, but my perverse disposition prevailed over the virtues which my adopted mother endeavored to instil into my heart. I increased in wickedness till I committed crime. One day when I cursed providence for making me so wicked, and ordaining me to such a fate, my adopted father said to me, 'Do not blaspheme, unhappy child, the crime is that of your father, not yours,--of your father, who consigned you to hell if you died, and to misery if a miracle preserved you alive.' After that I ceased to blaspheme, but I cursed my father. That is why I have uttered the words for which you blame me; that is why I have filled this whole assembly with horror. If I have committed an additional crime, punish me, but if you will allow that ever since the day of my birth my fate has been sad, bitter, and lamentable, then pity me." 
"But your mother?" asked the president. 
"My mother thought me dead; she is not guilty. I did not even wish to know her name, nor do I know it." Just then a piercing cry, ending in a sob, burst from the centre of the crowd, who encircled the lady who had before fainted, and who now fell into a violent fit of hysterics. She was carried out of the hall, the thick veil which concealed her face dropped off, and Madame Danglars was recognized. Notwithstanding his shattered nerves, the ringing sensation in his ears, and the madness which turned his brain, Villefort rose as he perceived her. "The proofs, the proofs!" said the president; "remember this tissue of horrors must be supported by the clearest proofs " 
"The proofs?" said Benedetto, laughing; "do you want proofs?" 
"Yes." 
"Well, then, look at M. de Villefort, and then ask me for proofs." 
Every one turned towards the procureur, who, unable to bear the universal gaze now riveted on him alone, advanced staggering into the midst of the tribunal, with his hair dishevelled and his face indented with the mark of his nails. The whole assembly uttered a long murmur of astonishment. "Father," said Benedetto, "I am asked for proofs, do you wish me to give them?" 
"No, no, it is useless," stammered M. de Villefort in a hoarse voice; "no, it is useless!" 
"How useless?" cried the president, "what do you mean?" 
"I mean that I feel it impossible to struggle against this deadly weight which crushes me. Gentlemen, I know I am in the hands of an avenging God! We need no proofs; everything relating to this young man is true." A dull, gloomy silence, like that which precedes some awful phenomenon of nature, pervaded the assembly, who shuddered in dismay. "What, M. de Villefort," cried the president, "do you yield to an hallucination? What, are you no longer in possession of your senses? This strange, unexpected, terrible accusation has disordered your reason. Come, recover." 
The procureur dropped his head; his teeth chattered like those of a man under a violent attack of fever, and yet he was deadly pale. 
"I am in possession of all my senses, sir," he said; "my body alone suffers, as you may suppose. I acknowledge myself guilty of all the young man has brought against me, and from this hour hold myself under the authority of the procureur who will succeed me." 
And as he spoke these words with a hoarse, choking voice, he staggered towards the door, which was mechanically opened by a door-keeper. The whole assembly were dumb with astonishment at the revelation and confession which had produced a catastrophe so different from that which had been expected during the last fortnight by the Parisian world. 
"Well," said Beauchamp, "let them now say that drama is unnatural!" 
"Ma foi!" said Chateau-Renaud, "I would rather end my career like M. de Morcerf; a pistol-shot seems quite delightful compared with this catastrophe." 
"And moreover, it kills," said Beauchamp. 
"And to think that I had an idea of marrying his daughter," said Debray. "She did well to die, poor girl!" 
"The sitting is adjourned, gentlemen," said the president; "fresh inquiries will be made, and the case will be tried next session by another magistrate." As for Andrea, who was calm and more interesting than ever, he left the hall, escorted by gendarmes, who involuntarily paid him some attention. "Well, what do you think of this, my fine fellow?" asked Debray of the sergeant-at-arms, slipping a louis into his hand. "There will be extenuating circumstances," he replied.  
法官在一片肃静中入座，陪审员也纷纷坐下，维尔福先生是大家注意的目标，甚至可以说是大家崇拜的对象，他坐在圈椅里，平静的目光四周环顾一下。每一个人都惊奇地望着那张严肃冷峻的面孔，私人的悲伤并不能从他脸上表现出来，大家看到一个人竟不为人类的喜怒哀乐所动，不禁产生一种恐怖感。 
“审判长说，“带被告。” 
听到这几个字，大家的注意力更集中了，所有的眼睛都盯在了贝尼代托就要进来的那扇门。门开了，被告随即出现了。在场的人都看清了他脸上的表情，他的脸上没有使人心脏停止跳动或使人脸色苍白的那种激动的情绪。他的两只手位置放得很优美，一只手按着帽子，一只手放在背心的开口处，手指没有丝毫的抖动，他的目光平静，甚至是明亮的。走进法庭以后，目光在法官和陪审人员扫过，然后让他的目光停留在审判长和检察官的身上。安德烈的旁边坐着他的律师，因为安德烈自己并未请律师，他的律师是由法院指定的，他似乎认为这是无关重要的小事，毋须为此请律师。那个律师是一个浅黄色头发的青年，他要比被告激动一百倍。 
审判长宣布读起诉书，那份起诉书占用了很长时间，在那个时间，大家的注意力几乎都在安德烈的身上，安德烈以斯巴达人那种不在乎的神气漠视着众人的注意。维尔福的话比任何时候都简洁雄辩。他有声有色地描绘了犯罪的始末：犯人以前的经历，他的变化，从童年起他所犯的罪，这一切，检察官都是竭尽心力才写出来的。单凭这一份起诉书不用等到宣判，大家就认为贝尼代托已经完蛋了。安德烈听着维尔福起诉书中接连提出来的罪名。维尔福先生不时地看他一眼，无疑他在向犯人实施他惯用的心理攻势，但他虽然不时地逼视那被告，却始终都没能使他低头，起诉书终于读完了。 
“被告，”审判长说，“你的姓名？” 
安德烈站起来。“原谅我，审判长阁下，”他用清晰的声音说，“我看您是采用了普通的审判程序，用那种程序，我将无法遵从。我要求——而且不久就可以证明我的要求是正当的——开一个例外。我恳求您允许我在回答的时候遵从一种不同的程序，愿意回答。你提出的所有问题。 
审判长惊奇地看了看陪审官，陪审官则去看检察官。整个法庭因为惊奇而鸦雀无声，但安德烈依旧不动声色。 
“你的年龄？”审判长说，“这个问题你肯回答吗？” 
“这个问题象其他的问题一样，愿意回答，审判长阁下，但却要到适当的时候才答复。” 
“你的年龄？”审判长重复那个问题。 
“我二十一岁，说得确切一些，过几天就要满二十一岁了，因为我是在一八一七年九月二十七日晚上生的。” 
维尔福先生正在忙于记录，听到这个日期，抬起头来。 
“你是在哪儿出生的？”审判长继续问。 
“在巴黎附近的阿都尔。” 
维尔福先生第二次抬起头来，望着贝尼代托，象是看到了墨杜萨的头似的，他的脸上变得毫无血色。贝尼代托，则用上好的白葛布手帕潇洒地抹一抹他的嘴唇。 
“你的职业？” 
“最初我制造假币，”安德烈平静地答道，“然后又偷东西，最近我杀了人。” 
法庭里爆发出愤怒的骚动声。法官们也呆住了，陪审员现出厌恶的表情，想不到一个体面人物竟会如此厚颜无耻。维尔福先生用手按住额头，他的额头最初发白，然后转红，以至于最后热得烫手。然后他突然起来，神情恍惚地四周环顾，他想透一透气。 
“你丢什么东西了吗，检察官阁下？”贝尼代托带着他和蔼可亲的微笑问。维尔福先生并不回答，跌倒在椅子里。 
“现在，被告，你肯讲出你的姓名了吗？”审判长说。“你历数自己的罪名时那种残酷神态，你认罪时的那种骄傲，——不论从法律上讲或从道义上讲，法院方面都将对你进行严厉惩罚，这大概就是你延迟宣布你的姓名的原因吧，你是想把你的姓名作为你引以为自豪的高潮。” 
“真妙，审判长阁下，我的心思您全看透了，贝尼代托用尽量柔和的声音和最礼貌的态度说。“这的确就是我要求您把审问程序改变一下的原因。” 
人们的惊愕已达到了无以复加的地步。被告的态度已不再有欺诈或浮夸的样子。情绪激动的人们预感到必然会从黑暗深处爆发雷声。 
“嗯！”审判长说，“你的姓名？” 
“我无法把我的姓告诉您，因为我不知道自己姓什么，但我知道我父亲的姓名，我可以把那个姓告诉您。” 
一阵痛苦的晕眩使维尔福看不见东西。大滴的汗珠从他的脸上滚落，他颤抖的手抓住稿纸，“那么，说出你父亲的名字来。”审判长说。 
偌大的法庭里鸦鹊无声，每一个人都屏息静气地等待着。 
“我的父亲是检察官。”安德烈平静地回答。 
“检察官？”审判长说，他楞住了，并没有注意到维尔福先生脸上惊慌的神情，“检察官？” 
“是的，假如你想知道他的名字，我可以告诉你，——他叫维尔福。” 
人们的激动情绪被抑制了这么久，现在象雷鸣似地从每一个人的胸膛里爆发出来了，法官无意去制止众人的骚动。人们对面无表情的贝尼代托喊叫、辱骂、讥诮、舞臂挥拳，法警跑来跑去，——这是每一次骚动时必有的现象，这一切继续了五分钟，法官和宪警才使法庭恢复了肃静。在这阵骚乱中，只听到那审判长喊道：“被告，你要戏弄法庭吗？你要在这世风日下的时代，独创一帜，胆敢在你的同胞面前创立一个藐视法庭的先例？” 
有几个人围住那几乎已瘫倒在椅子里的维尔福先生，劝慰他，鼓励他，对他表示关切和同情。法庭里的一切又井然有序，只有一个地方还有一群人在那儿骚动。据说有一位太太昏了过去，他们给她闻了嗅盐，现在已经醒过来了。 
在骚动期间，安德烈始终微笑着看大家，然后，他一只手扶着被告席的橡木栏杆，做出个优美的姿势，说：“诸位，上帝是不允许我侮辱法庭并在这可敬的法庭上造成徒然的骚乱的。他们问我的年龄，我说了。他们问我的出生地，我答复了。他们问我的姓名，我讲不出来，因为我的父母遗弃了我。我讲不出我自己的姓名，因为我根本没有姓名，我却知道我父亲的姓名。现在，我再说一遍，我父亲是维尔福先生，我很愿意来证明这一点是正确的。 
那个年轻人的态度有让人无法质疑的东西，一种信心和一种真挚骚动平静下来了。立刻，所有的眼睛都盯着检察官，检察官一动不动地坐着，象是一具刚遭雷劈的尸体。 
“诸位！”安德烈说，他以他的声音和态度使得全场鸦雀无声，“我对于刚才所说的话，应该向你们出示证据并解释清楚。 
“但是，”审判长恼怒地说，“在预审的时候，你自称是贝尼代托，说你自己是一个孤儿，并声称你的原藉是科西嘉。” 
“那是我随便说说的，目的是为了使我有机会发布刚才那个事实，不然的话，就一定会有人阻止我。我现在再说一遍，我是在一八一七年九月二十七日晚上在阿都尔降生的，我是检察官维尔福先生的儿子。我可以告诉你们详细的情节。我降生的地点是芳丹街二十八号，在一个挂着红色窗帷的房间里。我的父亲抱起我，对我的母亲说我是已经死了，把我包在一块绣有一个‘Ｈ’字和一个‘Ｎ’字样的襁褓里，抱我到后花园，在那儿活埋了我。” 
法庭里的人不禁都打起寒颤，他们看见那犯人的越说越自信，而维尔福先生却越来越惊惶。 
“但你怎么知道这些事的呢？”审判长问。 
“让我来告诉您，审判长阁下。有一个人曾发誓要向我的父亲报仇，他早就在寻找杀死他的机会，那天晚上，他偷偷地爬进我父亲埋我的那个花园。躲在树丛后面，他看见我的父亲把一样东西埋在地里，就在这个时候上去刺了他一刀，然后他以为里面藏着宝贝。所以他开地面，却发觉我还活着。那个人把我抱到育婴堂里，在那儿，我被编为五十七号。三个月以后，他的嫂嫂从洛格里亚诺赶到巴黎来，声称我是她的儿了，把我带走了。所以，我虽然生在巴黎，却是在科西嘉长大的。” 
法庭里一片静寂，这时，外面的人或许会以为法庭里没有人，因为当时里面没有一点声音。 
“说下去！”审判长说。 
“当然罗，”贝尼代托继续说，“抚养我的那些人都很爱我，我本来可以和那些人过很快乐的生活，但我那邪恶的本性超过了我继母灌输在我心里的美德。我愈变愈坏，直到犯罪。有一天，当我在诅咒上帝把我造得这样恶劣，给我注定这样一个不幸命运的时候，我的继父对我说：‘不要亵渎神灵，倒霉的孩子！因为上帝在赐你生命的时候并无恶意。罪孽是你父亲造成的，他连累你生遭孽报，死入地狱。’从那以后，我不再诅咒上帝，而是诅咒我的父亲。因为这个我才说了那些让你们遣责的话，为了这，我才使法庭上充满了恐怖。如果这一番话加重了我的罪名，那么请惩罚我；如果你们相信，自从我落地的那天起，我的命运就悲惨、痛苦和伤心，那么请宽恕我。” 
“但你的母亲呢？”审判长问道。 
“我的母亲以为我死了，她是无罪的。我不知道她的名字。我也不想知道。” 
正当那时曾经昏厥过一次的那个贵妇人发出一声尖锐的喊叫，接着是一阵啜泣，那个贵妇人现在陷入一种剧烈的歇斯底里状态了。当他被扶出法庭的时候，遮住她的面孔的那张厚面纱掉了下来，腾格拉尔夫人的真面目露出来了。维尔福虽然精神恍惚，耳聋脑胀，却还是认出了她，他站了起来。 
“证据！证据呢！”审判长说，“要记得：这种话是必须要有最清楚的证据来证实的。” 
“证据？”贝尼代托大笑着说，“您要证据吗？” 
“是的。” 
“嗯，那么，先请先看看维尔福先生，然后再来向我要证据。” 
每一个人都转过去看检察官，检察官无法忍受那么多人的目光只盯在他一个人身上。他踉踉跄跄地走到法庭中心，头发散乱，脸上布满被指甲抓出的血痕。全场响起一阵持续颇久的低语声。 
“父亲，”贝尼代托说，“他们问我要证据。你希望我给他们吗。” 
“不，不，”维尔福先生用一种嘶哑的声音结结巴巴地说，“不，不必了！” 
“怎么不必呢？”审判长喊道：“你是什么意思？” 
“我的意思是：我觉得我无法和这种落到我身上来的致命的重压抗争，诸位。——我是落到一个复仇之神的手里了！无须证据，这个年轻人说的话都是真的。” 
全场被一种象预示某种恶劣的自然现象那样阴森凄惨的沉寂弥漫着，大家都惊慌地寒颤着。 
“什么！维尔福先生，”审判长喊道，“你难道昏了头吗？什么！你的理智还在吗？你的头脑显然是被一个奇特、可怕、意想不到的污蔑弄糊涂了。来，恢复你的理智吧。” 
检察官低下头，他的牙齿象一个大发寒热的人那样格格地打抖，可是他的脸色却象死人一般毫无血色。 
“我没有丧失理智，阁下，”他说，“你可以看得出：失常的只是我的肉体。那个年轻人所指控我的罪，我全部承认，从现在起，我悉听下任检察官对我的处置。” 
当他用一种嘶哑窒息的声音说完这几句话后，他踉踉跄跄地向门口走去，一个法警机械地打开了那扇门。全场的人都因吃惊而哑口无言，这次开庭审判使半月来轰动巴黎社会的那一连串可怕的事情达到了最高峰。 
“噢，”波尚说，“现在谁会说这幕戏演得不自然？” 
“噢！”夏多·勒诺说，“我情愿象马尔塞夫先生那样用手枪结束他的生命，那总比这场灾祸来得舒服点。” 
“那么他犯了杀人罪了。”波尚说。 
“以前我还想娶他的女儿呢！”德布雷说，“幸亏她死了，可怜的姑娘！” 
“诸位，审问暂停，”审判长说，“本案延期到下次开庭办理。案情当另委法官重新审查。” 
至于安德烈，他仍然很平静，而且比以前更让人感兴趣了，他在法警的护送下离开法庭，法警们也不由自主地对他产生了一些敬意。 
“嗯，你觉得这件事情怎么样，我的好汉？”德布雷问那副警长，并把一块金路易塞到他的手里。 
“可能酌情减刑。”他回答。  
Chapter 111 Expiation
 NOTWITHSTANDING the density of the crowd, M. de Villefort saw it open before him. There is something so awe-inspiring in great afflictions that even in the worst times the first emotion of a crowd has generally been to sympathize with the sufferer in a great catastrophe. Many people have been assassinated in a tumult, but even criminals have rarely been insulted during trial. Thus Villefort passed through the mass of spectators and officers of the Palais, and withdrew. Though he had acknowledged his guilt, he was protected by his grief. There are some situations which men understand by instinct, but which reason is powerless to explain; in such cases the greatest poet is he who gives utterance to the most natural and vehement outburst of sorrow. Those who hear the bitter cry are as much impressed as if they listened to an entire poem, and when the sufferer is sincere they are right in regarding his outburst as sublime. 
It would be difficult to describe the state of stupor in which Villefort left the Palais. Every pulse beat with feverish excitement, every nerve was strained, every vein swollen, and every part of his body seemed to suffer distinctly from the rest, thus multiplying his agony a thousand-fold. He made his way along the corridors through force of habit; he threw aside his magisterial robe, not out of deference to etiquette, but because it was an unbearable burden, a veritable garb of Nessus, insatiate in torture. Having staggered as far as the Rue Dauphiné, he perceived his carriage, awoke his sleeping coachman by opening the door himself, threw himself on the cushions, and pointed towards the Faubourg Saint-Honoré; the carriage drove on. The weight of his fallen fortunes seemed suddenly to crush him; he could not foresee the consequences; he could not contemplate the future with the indifference of the hardened criminal who merely faces a contingency already familiar. God was still in his heart. "God," he murmured, not knowing what he said,--"God--God!" Behind the event that had overwhelmed him he saw the hand of God. The carriage rolled rapidly onward. Villefort, while turning restlessly on the cushions, felt something press against him. He put out his hand to remove the object; it was a fan which Madame de Villefort had left in the carriage; this fan awakened a recollection which darted through his mind like lightning. He thought of his wife. 
"Oh!" he exclaimed, as though a redhot iron were piercing his heart. During the last hour his own crime had alone been presented to his mind; now another object, not less terrible, suddenly presented itself. His wife! He had just acted the inexorable judge with her, he had condemned her to death, and she, crushed by remorse, struck with terror, covered with the shame inspired by the eloquence of his irreproachable virtue,--she, a poor, weak woman, without help or the power of defending herself against his absolute and supreme will,--she might at that very moment, perhaps, be preparing to die! An hour had elapsed since her condemnation; at that moment, doubtless, she was recalling all her crimes to her memory; she was asking pardon for her sins; perhaps she was even writing a letter imploring forgiveness from her virtuous husband--a forgiveness she was purchasing with her death! Villefort again groaned with anguish and despair. "Ah," he exclaimed, "that woman became criminal only from associating with me! I carried the infection of crime with me, and she has caught it as she would the typhus fever, the cholera, the plague! And yet I have punished her--I have dared to tell her--I have--'Repent and die!' But no, she must not die; she shall live, and with me. We will flee from Paris and go as far as the earth reaches. I told her of the scaffold; oh, heavens, I forgot that it awaits me also! How could I pronounce that word? Yes, we will fly; I will confess all to her,--I will tell her daily that I also have committed a crime!--Oh, what an alliance--the tiger and the serpent; worthy wife of such as I am! She must live that my infamy may diminish hers." And Villefort dashed open the window in front of the carriage. 
"Faster, faster!" he cried, in a tone which electrified the coachman. The horses, impelled by fear, flew towards the house. 
"Yes, yes," repeated Villefort, as he approached his home--"yes, that woman must live; she must repent, and educate my son, the sole survivor, with the exception of the indestructible old man, of the wreck of my house. She loves him; it was for his sake she has committed these crimes. We ought never to despair of softening the heart of a mother who loves her child. She will repent, and no one will know that she has been guilty. The events which have taken place in my house, though they now occupy the public mind, will be forgotten in time, or if, indeed, a few enemies should persist in remembering them, why then I will add them to my list of crimes. What will it signify if one, two, or three more are added? My wife and child shall escape from this gulf, carrying treasures with them; she will live and may yet be happy, since her child, in whom all her love is centred, will be with her. I shall have performed a good action, and my heart will be lighter." And the procureur breathed more freely than he had done for some time. 
The carriage stopped at the door of the house. Villefort leaped out of the carriage, and saw that his servants were surprised at his early return; he could read no other expression on their features. Neither of them spoke to him; they merely stood aside to let him pass by, as usual, nothing more. As he passed by M. Noirtier's room, he perceived two figures through the half-open door; but he experienced no curiosity to know who was visiting his father: anxiety carried him on further. 
"Come," he said, as he ascended the stairs leading to his wife's room, "nothing is changed here." He then closed the door of the landing. "No one must disturb us," he said; "I must speak freely to her, accuse myself, and say"--he approached the door, touched the crystal handle, which yielded to his hand. "Not locked," he cried; "that is well." And he entered the little room in which Edward slept; for though the child went to school during the day, his mother could not allow him to be separated from her at night. With a single glance Villefort's eye ran through the room. "Not here," he said; "doubtless she is in her bedroom." He rushed towards the door, found it bolted, and stopped, shuddering. "Hélo?se!" he cried. He fancied he heard the sound of a piece of furniture being removed. "Hélo?se!" he repeated. 
"Who is there?" answered the voice of her he sought. He thought that voice more feeble than usual. 
"Open the door!" cried Villefort. "Open; it is I." But notwithstanding this request, notwithstanding the tone of anguish in which it was uttered, the door remained closed. Villefort burst it open with a violent blow. At the entrance of the room which led to her boudoir, Madame de Villefort was standing erect, pale, her features contracted, and her eyes glaring horribly. "Hélo?se, Hélo?se!" he said, "what is the matter? Speak!" The young woman extended her stiff white hands towards him. "It is done, monsieur," she said with a rattling noise which seemed to tear her throat. "What more do you want?" and she fell full length on the floor. Villefort ran to her and seized her hand, which convulsively clasped a crystal bottle with a golden stopper. Madame de Villefort was dead. Villefort, maddened with horror, stepped back to the threshhold of the door, fixing his eyes on the corpse: "My son!" he exclaimed suddenly, "where is my son?--Edward, Edward!" and he rushed out of the room, still crying, "Edward, Edward!" The name was pronounced in such a tone of anguish that the servants ran up. 
"Where is my son?" asked Villefort; "let him be removed from the house, that he may not see"-- 
"Master Edward is not down-stairs, sir," replied the valet. 
"Then he must be playing in the garden; go and see." 
"No, sir; Madame de Villefort sent for him half an hour ago; he went into her room, and has not been down-stairs since." A cold perspiration burst out on Villefort's brow; his legs trembled, and his thoughts flew about madly in his brain like the wheels of a disordered watch. "In Madame de Villefort's room?" he murmured and slowly returned, with one hand wiping his forehead, and with the other supporting himself against the wall. To enter the room he must again see the body of his unfortunate wife. To call Edward he must reawaken the echo of that room which now appeared like a sepulchre; to speak seemed like violating the silence of the tomb. His tongue was paralyzed in his mouth. 
"Edward!" he stammered--"Edward!" The child did not answer. Where, then, could he be, if he had entered his mother's room and not since returned? He stepped forward. The corpse of Madame de Villefort was stretched across the doorway leading to the room in which Edward must be; those glaring eyes seemed to watch over the threshold, and the lips bore the stamp of a terrible and mysterious irony. Through the open door was visible a portion of the boudoir, containing an upright piano and a blue satin couch. Villefort stepped forward two or three paces, and beheld his child lying--no doubt asleep--on the sofa. The unhappy man uttered an exclamation of joy; a ray of light seemed to penetrate the abyss of despair and darkness. He had only to step over the corpse, enter the boudoir, take the child in his arms, and flee far, far away. 
Villefort was no longer the civilized man; he was a tiger hurt unto death, gnashing his teeth in his wound. He no longer feared realities, but phantoms. He leaped over the corpse as if it had been a burning brazier. He took the child in his arms, embraced him, shook him, called him, but the child made no response. He pressed his burning lips to the cheeks, but they were icy cold and pale; he felt the stiffened limbs; he pressed his hand upon the heart, but it no longer beat,--the child was dead. A folded paper fell from Edward's breast. Villefort, thunderstruck, fell upon his knees; the child dropped from his arms, and rolled on the floor by the side of its mother. He picked up the paper, and, recognizing his wife's writing, ran his eyes rapidly over its contents; it ran as follows:-- 
"You know that I was a good mother, since it was for my son's sake I became criminal. A good mother cannot depart without her son." 
Villefort could not believe his eyes,--he could not believe his reason; he dragged himself towards the child's body, and examined it as a lioness contemplates its dead cub. Then a piercing cry escaped from his breast, and he cried, "Still the hand of God." The presence of the two victims alarmed him; he could not bear solitude shared only by two corpses. Until then he had been sustained by rage, by his strength of mind, by despair, by the supreme agony which led the Titans to scale the heavens, and Ajax to defy the gods. He now arose, his head bowed beneath the weight of grief, and, shaking his damp, dishevelled hair, he who had never felt compassion for any one determined to seek his father, that he might have some one to whom he could relate his misfortunes,--some one by whose side he might weep. He descended the little staircase with which we are acquainted, and entered Noirtier's room. The old man appeared to be listening attentively and as affectionately as his infirmities would allow to the Abbé Busoni, who looked cold and calm, as usual. Villefort, perceiving the abbé, passed his hand across his brow. He recollected the call he had made upon him after the dinner at Auteuil, and then the visit the abbé had himself paid to his house on the day of Valentine's death. "You here, sir!" he exclaimed; "do you, then, never appear but to act as an escort to death?" 
Busoni turned around, and, perceiving the excitement depicted on the magistrate's face, the savage lustre of his eyes, he understood that the revelation had been made at the assizes; but beyond this he was ignorant. "I came to pray over the body of your daughter." 
"And now why are you here?" 
"I come to tell you that you have sufficiently repaid your debt, and that from this moment I will pray to God to forgive you, as I do." 
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Villefort, stepping back fearfully, "surely that is not the voice of the Abbé Busoni!" 
"No!" The abbé threw off his wig, shook his head, and his hair, no longer confined, fell in black masses around his manly face. 
"It is the face of the Count of Monte Cristo!" exclaimed the procureur, with a haggard expression. 
"You are not exactly right, M. Procureur; you must go farther back." 
"That voice, that voice!--where did I first hear it?" 
"You heard it for the first time at Marseilles, twenty-three years ago, the day of your marriage with Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran. Refer to your papers." 
"You are not Busoni?--you are not Monte Cristo? Oh, heavens--you are, then, some secret, implacable, and mortal enemy! I must have wronged you in some way at Marseilles. Oh, woe to me!" 
"Yes; you are now on the right path," said the count, crossing his arms over his broad chest; "search--search!" 
"But what have I done to you?" exclaimed Villefort, whose mind was balancing between reason and insanity, in that cloud which is neither a dream nor reality; "what have I done to you? Tell me, then! Speak!" 
"You condemned me to a horrible, tedious death; you killed my father; you deprived me of liberty, of love, and happiness." 
"Who are you, then? Who are you?" 
"I am the spectre of a wretch you buried in the dungeons of the Chateau d'If. God gave that spectre the form of the Count of Monte Cristo when he at length issued from his tomb, enriched him with gold and diamonds, and led him to you!" 
"Ah, I recognize you--I recognize you!" exclaimed the king's attorney; "you are"-- 
"I am Edmond Dantès!" 
"You are Edmond Dantès," cried Villefort, seizing the count by the wrist; "then come here!" And up the stairs he dragged Monte Cristo; who, ignorant of what had happened, followed him in astonishment, foreseeing some new catastrophe. "There, Edmond Dantès!" he said, pointing to the bodies of his wife and child, "see, are you well avenged?" Monte Cristo became pale at this horrible sight; he felt that he had passed beyond the bounds of vengeance, and that he could no longer say, "God is for and with me." With an expression of indescribable anguish he threw himself upon the body of the child, reopened its eyes, felt its pulse, and then rushed with him into Valentine's room, of which he double-locked the door. "My child," cried Villefort, "he carries away the body of my child! Oh, curses, woe, death to you!" and he tried to follow Monte Cristo; but as though in a dream he was transfixed to the spot,--his eyes glared as though they were starting through the sockets; he griped the flesh on his chest until his nails were stained with blood; the veins of his temples swelled and boiled as though they would burst their narrow boundary, and deluge his brain with living fire. This lasted several minutes, until the frightful overturn of reason was accomplished; then uttering a loud cry followed by a burst of laughter, he rushed down the stairs. 
A quarter of an hour afterwards the door of Valentine's room opened, and Monte Cristo reappeared. Pale, with a dull eye and heavy heart, all the noble features of that face, usually so calm and serene, were overcast by grief. In his arms he held the child, whom no skill had been able to recall to life. Bending on one knee, he placed it reverently by the side of its mother, with its head upon her breast. Then, rising, he went out, and meeting a servant on the stairs, he asked, "Where is M. de Villefort?" 
The servant, instead of answering, pointed to the garden. Monte Cristo ran down the steps, and advancing towards the spot designated beheld Villefort, encircled by his servants, with a spade in his hand, and digging the earth with fury. "It is not here!" he cried. "It is not here!" And then he moved farther on, and began again to dig. 
Monte Cristo approached him, and said in a low voice, with an expression almost humble, "Sir, you have indeed lost a son; but"-- 
Villefort interrupted him; he had neither listened nor heard. "Oh, I will find it," he cried; "you may pretend he is not here, but I will find him, though I dig forever!" Monte Cristo drew back in horror. "Oh," he said, "he is mad!" And as though he feared that the walls of the accursed house would crumble around him, he rushed into the street, for the first time doubting whether he had the right to do as he had done. "Oh, enough of this,--enough of this," he cried; "let me save the last." On entering his house, he met Morrel, who wandered about like a ghost awaiting the heavenly mandate for return to the tomb. "Prepare yourself, Maximilian," he said with a smile; "we leave Paris to-morrow." 
"Have you nothing more to do there?" asked Morrel. 
"No," replied Monte Cristo; "God grant I may not have done too much already." 
The next day they indeed left, accompanied only by Baptistin. Haidée had taken away Ali, and Bertuccio remained with Noirtier.  
维尔福先生看见稠密的人群在他的前面闪开着一条路。 
极度的惨痛会使别人产生一种敬畏，即使在历史中最不幸的时期，群众第一个反应总是对一场大难中的受苦者表示同情。 
有许多人会在一场动乱中被杀死，但罪犯在接受审判时，却极少受到侮辱。所以维尔福安全地从法院里的旁听者和军警面前走过。他虽然已认罪，有他的悲哀作保护。在这种情况下，人们不是用理智来判断，而是凭本能行事；在这样的情况下，最伟大的人就是那种最富有感情和最自然的人。大家把他们的表情当作一种完美的语言，而且有理由以此为满足，尤其是当那种语言符合实际情况的时候。维尔福离开法院时的那种恍惚迷离的状态是难于形容的。一种极度的亢奋，每一条神经都紧张，每一条血管都鼓起来，他身体的每一部分似乎都受着痛苦的宰割，这使他的痛苦增加了一千倍。他凭着习惯走出法庭，他抛开他法官的长袍，——并不是因为理应如此，而是因为他的肩膀不胜重压，象是披着一件饱含痛苦的尼苏斯的衬衫一样［尼苏斯是希腊神话中半人半马的怪物，因诱拐大力士赫克里斯之妻被赫克里斯以毒箭射死。赫之妻遵尼苏斯的遗言，把丈夫的衬衣用这怪物的血浸过，赫克里斯穿上后因此中毒，苦恼不堪，卒致自杀。——译注］。他踉踉跄跄地走到道宾路，看见他的马车，停在那里，亲自打开车门，摇醒那瞌睡的车夫，然后摔倒在车座上，停在那里，他向圣·奥诺路指了一指，马车便开始行驶了。他这场灾祸好象全部重量似乎都压在他的头上。那种重量把他压垮了。他并没有看到后果，也没有考虑，他只能直觉地感到它们的重压。他不能象一个惯于杀人的冷酷的凶手那样理智地分析他的处境。他灵魂的深处想到了上帝，——“上帝呀！”他呆呆地说，其实他并不清楚自己在说些什么，“上帝呀！上帝呀！”在这将临的灾祸后面，他看见上帝。马车急速地行驶着。在车垫上不停地晃动着的维尔福觉察背后有一样东西顶住他。他伸手去拿开那样东西，那原来是维尔福夫人在车子里的一把扇子。这把扇子象黑暗中的闪电那样唤起他的回忆，——他想起了他的妻子。 
“噢！”他喊道，象是一块烧红的铁在烙他的心一样。在过去这一小时内，他只想到他自己的罪恶。现在，另一个可怕的东西突然呈现在头脑里。他的妻子！他曾以一个铁面无私的法官的身份对待她，他曾宣判她死刑，而她，受着悔恨恐怖的煎熬，受着他义正词严的雄辩所激起的羞耻心的煎熬。 
她，一个无力抵抗法律的可怜的弱女子，——她这时也许正在那儿准备死！自从她被宣判有罪以来，已过去一个钟头了。 
在这个时候，她无疑地正在回忆她所犯的种种罪行，她也许正在要求饶恕她的罪行，或许她在写信给他丈夫，求她那道德高尚的丈夫饶恕她，维尔福又惨痛和绝望地呻吟了一声。 
“啊！”他叹道，“那个女人只是因为跟我结合才会变成罪犯！我身上带着犯罪的细菌，她只是受了传染，象传染到伤寒、霍乱和瘟疫一样！可是，我却惩罚她！我竟敢对她说：‘忏悔吧，死吧！’噢，不！不！她可以活下去。她可以跟我。我们可以逃走，离开法国，逃到世界的尽头。我对她提到断头台！万能的上帝！我怎么竟敢对她说那句话！噢，断头台也在等着我呢！是的，我们将远走高飞，我将向她承认一切，我将天天告诉她，我也犯罪！噢，真是老虎和赤练蛇的结合！噢，真配做我的妻子！她一定不能死，我的耻辱也许会减轻她的内疚。”于是维尔福猛力打开车厢前面的窗口。“快点！快点！” 
他喊道，他喊叫时的口吻使那车夫感到象触了电一样。马被赶得惊恐万分，飞一般地跑回家去。 
“是的，是的，”在途中，维尔福反复念叨，“是的，那个女人不能死，应该让她忏悔，抚养我的儿子，我那可怜的孩子，在我不幸的家里，除了那生命力特别顽强的老人以外，就只剩下他一个人了。她爱这孩子，她是为他才变成一个罪人的。一个母亲只要还爱她的孩子，她的心就不会坏到无可挽回的地步。她会忏悔的。谁都不会知道她犯过罪，那些罪恶是在我的家里发生的，虽然现在大家已经怀疑，但过些时候就会忘记，如果还有仇人记得，唉，上帝来惩罚我吧！我再多加两三重罪也没什么关系？我的妻子可以带着孩子和珠宝逃走。她可以活下去，也许还可以活得很幸福，因为她把爱都倾注在孩子身上，我的心就可以好受一些了。”于是检察官觉得他的呼吸也比较畅通了。 
马车在宅邸院子里停住。维尔福从车子里出来，他看出仆人们都很惊奇他回来得这样早。除此之外他在他们的脸上再看不出别的表情。没有人跟他说话，象往常一样他们站在一边让他过去。当他经过诺瓦蒂埃先生房间时，他从那半开着的门里看见了两个人影，但他不想知道是谁在拜访他的父亲，他匆匆地继续向前走。 
“啊，没事”，当他走上通向妻子房间去的楼梯时，他说，“没事一切都是老样子。”他随手关拢楼梯口的门。“不能让人来打扰我们，”他想，“我必须毫不顾忌地告诉她，在她面前认罪，把一切都告诉她”。他走到门口，握住那水晶门柄，门却自行打开了。“门没关！”他自言自语地说，“很好。”他走进爱德华睡觉的那个小房间，孩子白天到学校去上学，晚上和母亲住在一起。他忙向房间里看了看。“不在这儿，”他说，“她在自己的房间里。”他冲到门口，门关着。他站在那儿浑身打哆嗦。“爱萝绮丝！”他喊道。他好象听到家具移动的声音。“爱萝绮丝！”他再喊。 
“是谁？”他要找的女人问道。他觉得那个声音比往常微弱得多。 
“开门！”维尔福喊道，“开门，是我。” 
不管他的怎样请求，不管他的口气让人听上去多么痛苦，门却依旧关着。维尔福一脚把门踹开。在门口里面，维尔福夫人直挺挺地站着，她的脸色苍白，五官收缩。恐怖地望着他。“爱萝绮丝！爱萝绮丝！”他说，“你怎么啦？说呀！” 
那年轻女子向他伸出一只僵硬而苍白的手。我按你的要求做了，阁下！”她声音嘶哑，喉咙好象随时都可能被撕裂。 
“你还要怎样呢？”说着她摔倒在地板上。 
维尔福奔过去抓住她的手，痉挛的那只手里握着一只金盖子的水晶瓶。维尔福夫人自杀了。维尔福吓疯了，他退回到门口，两眼盯住那尸体。“我的儿子呢！”他突然喊道，“我的儿子在哪儿？爱德华！爱德华！”他冲出房间，疯狂地喊着，“爱德华！爱德华！”他的声音不胜悲恸，仆人们听到喊声都跑了上来。 
“我的儿子在哪儿？”维尔福问道，“带他离开这座房子，不要让他看见——” 
“爱德华少爷不在楼下，先生。”仆人答道。 
“那么他可能在花园里玩，去看看。” 
“不，先生，夫人在半小时前派人来找他，他到夫人的房间里去了，以后就没有下楼来过。” 
维尔福的额头上直冒冷汗，他的双腿发抖，各种不祥的念头在他的脑子里乱转。“在维尔福夫人的房间里？”他喃喃地说，妻子的房间，在里面他不能来看不幸的妻子的尸体。要喊爱德华，他一定会在那变成坟墓的房间里造成回音。似乎不应该说话打破坟墓的宁静。维尔福觉得自己的舌头已经麻木了。“爱德华！”他口吃地说，“爱德华！”没有回音。如果他到母亲的房间里没有再出来，他又会可能在哪儿呢？他踮着脚走过去。维尔福夫人的尸体横躺在门口，爱德华一定在房间里面。那个尸体似乎在看守房门，眼睛瞪着，脸上分明带着一种可怕的、神秘的、讥讽的微笑。从那打开着的门向里过去，可以看见一架直立钢琴和一张蓝缎的睡榻。维尔福向前走了两三步，看见他的孩子躺在沙发上，睡着了。他发出一声欢喜的喊叫，好象透入那绝望黑暗的深渊。他只要跨过那尸体，走进房间，抱起他的孩子，带他远走高飞就行了。 
维尔福已不再是那个精明近于深谋远虑的上层人物了，现在他是一只受伤将死的老虎，他的牙齿已被最后的痛苦磨碎了。他不怕现实，他只怕鬼。他跨过尸体，好象那是能把他吞噬的一只火炉。他把那孩子抱在自己的怀里，搂着他，摇他，喊他，但那孩子并不回答。他嘴唇去亲那孩子的脸颊，孩子是冰冷惨白的。他感到他的四肢僵硬，他把手放在他的胸膛上，心脏已不再跳动了，孩子死了。一张叠着的纸从爱德华的胸口上落下来。维尔福如同五雷轰顶，双腿一软跪下来，孩子从他麻木的手上滑下来，滚到他母亲的身边。维尔福拾起那张纸，那是妻子的笔迹，他迫不急待地看了起来。 
“你知道我是一个好母亲，为了我儿子不惜让自己变成一个罪人。一个好母亲是不能和她的儿子分离的。” 
维尔福无法相信他的眼睛，无法相信他的理智。他向孩子的尸体爬过去，象一只母狮看着它死掉的小狮子一样。悲痛欲绝地喊道，“上帝啊！”他说，“上帝永在啊！”那两具死尸吓坏了他，他不能忍受两具尸体来填充寂静。直到那时，他被一中绝望和悲痛支持着。悲痛力大无比，而绝望使他产生了一种异乎寻常的勇气。现在，他站起来，但他的头低着，悲哀压得他抬不起头来。他甩了甩那被冷汗润湿的头发，决定去找他的父亲，他从没对任何人表示过怜悯，但现在他要找一个人来听他诉苦，他要找一个来听他哭泣。他走下楼梯，走进诺瓦蒂埃的房间。那老人正用他所能够表现出的最亲热的表情在倾听布沙尼神甫说话，布沙尼神甫仍象往常一样冷淡平静。维尔福一看见那长老，便把手按在前额上。他记得他曾在阿都尔那次晚宴后去拜访过他，也记得长老曾在瓦朗蒂娜去世的那天到这座房子里来过。“你在这儿，阁下！”他叹道，“你怎么总是伴随死神一起来呢？” 
布沙尼转过身来，看着检察官变了形的脸和他眼睛里那种野蛮的凶光，他知道开庭的那出戏已经收场了，但他当然不知道发生了别的事情。“我以前曾来为你的女儿祈祷过。”他答道。 
“但你今天来做什么？” 
“我来告诉你：你的债已经偿还得够了，从此刻起，我将祈祷上帝象我一样的宽恕你。” 
“上帝呀！”维尔福神情慌张的喊道，“你不是布沙尼神甫！” 
“是的，我不是，”长老拉掉他的头发，摇一遥头，他的黑发披散到他那英俊的面孔两旁。 
“你是基督山伯爵！”检察官带着惊呆的神情喊道。 
“你说得并不全对，检察官阁下，再仔细想一想。” 
“你是在马赛第一次听到我的声音的，在二十三年以前，你与圣·梅朗小姐举行婚礼的那一天。好好想一想吧。” 
“你不是布沙尼？你不是基督山？你就是那个躲在幕后与我不共戴天的死对头！我在马赛的时候一定得罪过你。哦，该我倒霉！” 
“是的，你说得对，”伯爵把双手交叉在宽阔的胸前，说，“想想吧，仔细想想吧！” 
“但我怎样得罪了你？”维尔福喊道，他的脑子正在那既非幻梦也非现实的境地徘徊在理智和疯狂之间，——“我怎样得罪了你？告诉我吧！说呀！” 
“你是谁，那么你是谁？” 
“我是被你埋在伊夫堡黑牢里的一个可怜的人的阴魂。那个阴魂终于已从他的坟墓里爬了出来，上帝赐他一个基督山的面具，给他许多金珠宝贝，使你直到今天才能认出他。” 
“啊！我认出你了！我认出你了！”检察官喊道，“你是——” 
“我是爱德蒙·唐太斯！” 
“你是爱德蒙·唐太斯！”维尔福抓住伯爵的手腕喊道，“那么到这儿来。”于是他拉着基督山往楼上走。伯爵不知道发生了什么事情，只是他的心里也料到发生了某种新的灾难。 
“看吧，爱德蒙·唐太斯！”他指着他妻子和孩子的尸体说，“看！你的仇报了吗？” 
基督山看到这令人毛骨悚然的情景，他的脸色变得苍白；他把报复的权利用得过了头，他已没有权利说“上帝助我，上帝与我同在。那句话了。他带着一种无法形容的悲哀的表情扑到那孩子的尸体上，拨开他的眼睛，摸一摸他的脉搏，然后抱着他冲进瓦朗蒂娜的房间，把门关上了。 
“我的孩子！”维尔福喊道，“他抢走了我的孩子！噢，你这坏蛋，你不得好死！”他想去追基督山，但象是在做梦一样，他的脚一步也动不得。他拚命睁大眼睛，眼珠象是要从眼眶里突出来似的。指甲扎进了胸膛上，被血染红了；他太阳穴上的血管胀得象要爆裂开来似的，他头脑发热。几分钟，他已经没有了理智，接着，他大叫一声，爆发出一阵大笑，冲下楼梯去了。 
一刻钟以后，瓦朗蒂娜的房间门开了，基督山走出来。他的眼光迟钝，脸上毫无血色，他那表情一向宁静高贵的脸由于悲哀而神色大变，他的臂弯里抱着那个已经无法起死回生的孩子。他单腿跪下，虔敬地把他放在他母亲的旁边，然后他走出房间在楼梯上遇到一个仆人，“维尔福先生在哪儿？”他问仆人。 
那个仆人没吭声，指了指花园。基督山走下楼梯，向仆人所指的那个方向走过去，看见维尔福被他的仆人围在中间，他的手里拿着一把铲子，正在疯狂地挖着泥土。“这儿没有！” 
他喊道。于是他再向前面走几步，重新再挖。 
基督山走到他的身边，低声说：“阁下，你的确失去了一个儿子，但是——” 
维尔福打断他的话，他听不懂，也根本听不到。“噢，我会找到他的！”他喊道，“你们都哄我，说他不在这儿，我会找到他的，一定得找下去！” 
基督山恐慌地往后退去。“噢！”他说，“他疯啦！”象是怕那座受天诅咒的房子的墙壁会突然倒塌似的，他跑到街上，第一次他开始怀疑自己究竟有没有权利做他所做的那些事情。“噢，够啦，——够啦，”他喊道，“快去把最后的一个救出来吧。” 
一回到家，他就遇到莫雷尔正象一个幽灵似的在他的客厅里来回徘徊。“准备一下吧，马西米兰。”伯爵带着微笑说，“我们明天离开巴黎。” 
“你在这儿没有别的事要干？”莫雷尔问。 
“没有了，”基督山答道，“上帝宽恕我，也许我已经做得太过分了！” 
Chapter 112 The Departure
 THE RECENT event formed the theme of conversation throughout all Paris. Emmanuel and his wife conversed with natural astonishment in their little apartment in the Rue Meslay upon the three successive, sudden, and most unexpected catastrophes of Morcerf, Danglars, and Villefort. Maximilian, who was paying them a visit, listened to their conversation, or rather was present at it, plunged in his accustomed state of apathy. "Indeed," said Julie, "might we not almost fancy, Emmanuel, that those people, so rich, so happy but yesterday, had forgotten in their prosperity that an evil genius--like the wicked fairies in Perrault's stories who present themselves unbidden at a wedding or baptism--hovered over them, and appeared all at once to revenge himself for their fatal neglect?" 
"What a dire misfortune!" said Emmanuel, thinking of Morcerf and Danglars. 
"What dreadful sufferings!" said Julie, remembering Valentine, but whom, with a delicacy natural to women, she did not name before her brother. 
"If the Supreme Being has directed the fatal blow," said Emmanuel, "it must be that he in his great goodness has perceived nothing in the past lives of these people to merit mitigation of their awful punishment." 
"Do you not form a very rash judgment, Emmanuel?" said Julie. "When my father, with a pistol in his hand, was once on the point of committing suicide, had any one then said, 'This man deserves his misery,' would not that person have been deceived?" 
"Yes; but your father was not allowed to fall. A being was commissioned to arrest the fatal hand of death about to descend on him." 
Emmanuel had scarcely uttered these words when the sound of the bell was heard, the well-known signal given by the porter that a visitor had arrived. Nearly at the same instant the door was opened and the Count of Monte Cristo appeared on the threshold. The young people uttered a cry of joy, while Maximilian raised his head, but let it fall again immediately. "Maximilian," said the count, without appearing to notice the different impressions which his presence produced on the little circle, "I come to seek you." 
"To seek me?" repeated Morrel, as if awakening from a dream. 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "has it not been agreed that I should take you with me, and did I not tell you yesterday to prepare for departure?" 
"I am ready," said Maximilian; "I came expressly to wish them farewell." 
"Whither are you going, count?" asked Julie. 
"In the first instance to Marseilles, madame." 
"To Marseilles!" exclaimed the young couple. 
"Yes, and I take your brother with me." 
"Oh, count." said Julie, "will you restore him to us cured of his melancholy?"--Morrel turned away to conceal the confusion of his countenance. 
"You perceive, then, that he is not happy?" said the count. "Yes," replied the young woman; "and fear much that he finds our home but a dull one." 
"I will undertake to divert him," replied the count. 
"I am ready to accompany you, sir," said Maximilian. "Adieu, my kind friends! Emmanuel--Julie--farewell!" 
"How farewell?" exclaimed Julie; "do you leave us thus, so suddenly, without any preparations for your journey, without even a passport?" 
"Needless delays but increase the grief of parting," said Monte Cristo, "and Maximilian has doubtless provided himself with everything requisite; at least, I advised him to do so." 
"I have a passport, and my clothes are ready packed," said Morrel in his tranquil but mournful manner. 
"Good," said Monte Cristo, smiling; "in these prompt arrangements we recognize the order of a well-disciplined soldier." 
"And you leave us," said Julie, "at a moment's warning? you do not give us a day--no, not even an hour before your departure?" 
"My carriage is at the door, madame, and I must be in Rome in five days." 
"But does Maximilian go to Rome?" exclaimed Emmanuel. 
"I am going wherever it may please the count to take me," said Morrel, with a smile full of grief; "I am under his orders for the next month." 
"Oh, heavens, how strangely he expresses himself, count!" said Julie. 
"Maximilian goes with me," said the count, in his kindest and most persuasive manner; "therefore do not make yourself uneasy on your brother's account." 
"Once more farewell, my dear sister; Emmanuel, adieu!" Morrel repeated. 
"His carelessness and indifference touch me to the heart," said Julie. "Oh, Maximilian, Maximilian, you are certainly concealing something from us." 
"Pshaw!" said Monte Cristo, "you will see him return to you gay, smiling, and joyful." 
Maximilian cast a look of disdain, almost of anger, on the count. 
"We must leave you," said Monte Cristo. 
"Before you quit us, count," said Julie, "will you permit us to express to you all that the other day"-- 
"Madame," interrupted the count, taking her two hands in his, "all that you could say in words would never express what I read in your eyes; the thoughts of your heart are fully understood by mine. Like benefactors in romances, I should have left you without seeing you again, but that would have been a virtue beyond my strength, because I am a weak and vain man, fond of the tender, kind, and thankful glances of my fellow-creatures. On the eve of departure I carry my egotism so far as to say, 'Do not forget me, my kind friends, for probably you will never see me again.'" 
"Never see you again?" exclaimed Emmanuel, while two large tears rolled down Julie's cheeks, "never behold you again? It is not a man, then, but some angel that leaves us, and this angel is on the point of returning to heaven after having appeared on earth to do good." 
"Say not so," quickly returned Monte Cristo--"say not so, my friends; angels never err, celestial beings remain where they wish to be. Fate is not more powerful than they; it is they who, on the contrary, overcome fate. No, Emmanuel, I am but a man, and your admiration is as unmerited as your words are sacrilegious." And pressing his lips on the hand of Julie, who rushed into his arms, he extended his other hand to Emmanuel; then tearing himself from this abode of peace and happiness, he made a sign to Maximilian, who followed him passively, with the indifference which had been perceptible in him ever since the death of Valentine had so stunned him. "Restore my brother to peace and happiness," whispered Julie to Monte Cristo. And the count pressed her hand in reply, as he had done eleven years before on the staircase leading to Morrel's study. 
"You still confide, then, in Sinbad the Sailor?" asked he, smiling. 
"Oh, yes," was the ready answer. 
"Well, then, sleep in peace, and put your trust in heaven." As we have before said, the postchaise was waiting; four powerful horses were already pawing the ground with impatience, while Ali, apparently just arrived from a long walk, was standing at the foot of the steps, his face bathed in perspiration. "Well," asked the count in Arabic, "have you been to see the old man?" Ali made a sign in the affirmative. 
"And have you placed the letter before him, as I ordered you to do?" 
The slave respectfully signalized that he had. "And what did he say, or rather do?" Ali placed himself in the light, so that his master might see him distinctly, and then imitating in his intelligent manner the countenance of the old man, he closed his eyes, as Noirtier was in the custom of doing when saying "Yes." 
"Good; he accepts," said Monte Cristo. "Now let us go." 
These words had scarcely escaped him, when the carriage was on its way, and the feet of the horses struck a shower of sparks from the pavement. Maximilian settled himself in his corner without uttering a word. Half an hour had passed when the carriage stopped suddenly; the count had just pulled the silken check-string, which was fastened to Ali's finger. The Nubian immediately descended and opened the carriage door. It was a lovely starlight night--they had just reached the top of the hill Villejuif, from whence Paris appears like a sombre sea tossing its millions of phosphoric waves into light--waves indeed more noisy, more passionate, more changeable, more furious, more greedy, than those of the tempestuous ocean,--waves which never rest as those of the sea sometimes do,--waves ever dashing, ever foaming, ever ingulfing what falls within their grasp. The count stood alone, and at a sign from his hand, the carriage went on for a short distance. With folded arms, he gazed for some time upon the great city. When he had fixed his piercing look on this modern Babylon, which equally engages the contemplation of the religious enthusiast, the materialist, and the scoffer,--"Great city," murmured he, inclining his head, and joining his hands as if in prayer, "less than six months have elapsed since first I entered thy gates. I believe that the Spirit of God led my steps to thee and that he also enables me to quit thee in triumph; the secret cause of my presence within thy walls I have confided alone to him who only has had the power to read my heart. God only knows that I retire from thee without pride or hatred, but not without many regrets; he only knows that the power confided to me has never been made subservient to my personal good or to any useless cause. Oh, great city, it is in thy palpitating bosom that I have found that which I sought; like a patient miner, I have dug deep into thy very entrails to root out evil thence. Now my work is accomplished, my mission is terminated, now thou canst neither afford me pain nor pleasure. Adieu, Paris, adieu!" 
His look wandered over the vast plain like that of some genius of the night; he passed his hand over his brow, got into the carriage, the door was closed on him, and the vehicle quickly disappeared down the other side of the hill in a whirlwind of noise and dust. 
Ten leagues were passed and not a single word was uttered. 
Morrel was dreaming, and Monte Cristo was looking at the dreamer. 
"Morrel," said the count to him at length, "do you repent having followed me?" 
"No, count; but to leave Paris"-- 
"If I thought happiness might await you in Paris, Morrel, I would have left you there." 
"Valentine reposes within the walls of Paris, and to leave Paris is like losing her a second time." 
"Maximilian," said the count, "the friends that we have lost do not repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep in our hearts, and it has been thus ordained that we may always be accompanied by them. I have two friends, who in this way never depart from me; the one who gave me being, and the other who conferred knowledge and intelligence on me. Their spirits live in me. I consult them when doubtful, and if I ever do any good, it is due to their beneficent counsels. Listen to the voice of your heart, Morrel, and ask it whether you ought to preserve this melancholy exterior towards me." 
"My friend," said Maximilian, "the voice of my heart is very sorrowful, and promises me nothing but misfortune." 
"It is the way of weakened minds to see everything through a black cloud. The soul forms its own horizons; your soul is darkened, and consequently the sky of the future appears stormy and unpromising." 
"That may possibly be true," said Maximilian, and he again subsided into his thoughtful mood. 
The journey was performed with that marvellous rapidity which the unlimited power of the count ever commanded. Towns fled from them like shadows on their path, and trees shaken by the first winds of autumn seemed like giants madly rushing on to meet them, and retreating as rapidly when once reached. The following morning they arrived at Chalons, where the count's steamboat waited for them. Without the loss of an instant, the carriage was placed on board and the two travellers embarked without delay. The boat was built for speed; her two paddle-wheels were like two wings with which she skimmed the water like a bird. Morrel was not insensible to that sensation of delight which is generally experienced in passing rapidly through the air, and the wind which occasionally raised the hair from his forehead seemed on the point of dispelling momentarily the clouds collected there. 
As the distance increased between the travellers and Paris, almost superhuman serenity appeared to surround the count; he might have been taken for an exile about to revisit his native land. Ere long Marseilles presented herself to view,--Marseilles, white, fervid, full of life and energy,--Marseilles, the younger sister of Tyre and Carthage, the successor to them in the empire of the Mediterranean,--Marseilles, old, yet always young. Powerful memories were stirred within them by the sight of the round tower, Fort Saint-Nicolas, the City Hall designed by Puget, the port with its brick quays, where they had both played in childhood, and it was with one accord that they stopped on the Cannebiere. A vessel was setting sail for Algiers, on board of which the bustle usually attending departure prevailed. The passengers and their relations crowded on the deck, friends taking a tender but sorrowful leave of each other, some weeping, others noisy in their grief, the whole forming a spectacle that might be exciting even to those who witnessed similar sights daily, but which had no power to disturb the current of thought that had taken possession of the mind of Maximilian from the moment he had set foot on the broad pavement of the quay. 
"Here," said he, leaning heavily on the arm of Monte Cristo,--"here is the spot where my father stopped, when the Pharaon entered the port; it was here that the good old man, whom you saved from death and dishonor, threw himself into my arms. I yet feel his warm tears on my face, and his were not the only tears shed, for many who witnessed our meeting wept also." Monte Cristo gently smiled and said,--"I was there;" at the same time pointing to the corner of a street. As he spoke, and in the very direction he indicated, a groan, expressive of bitter grief, was heard, and a woman was seen waving her hand to a passenger on board the vessel about to sail. Monte Cristo looked at her with an emotion that must have been remarked by Morrel had not his eyes been fixed on the vessel. 
"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed Morrel, "I do not deceive myself--that young man who is waving his hat, that youth in the uniform of a lieutenant, is Albert de Morcerf!" 
"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I recognized him." 
"How so?--you were looking the other way." the count smiled, as he was in the habit of doing when he did not want to make any reply, and he again turned towards the veiled woman, who soon disappeared at the corner of the street. Turning to his friend,--"Dear Maximilian," said the count, "have you nothing to do in this land?" 
"I have to weep over the grave of my father," replied Morrel in a broken voice. 
"Well, then, go,--wait for me there, and I will soon join you." 
"You leave me, then?" "Yes; I also have a pious visit to pay." 
Morrel allowed his hand to fall into that which the count extended to him; then with an inexpressibly sorrowful inclination of the head he quitted the count and bent his steps to the east of the city. Monte Cristo remained on the same spot until Maximilian was out of sight; he then walked slowly towards the Allées de Meillan to seek out a small house with which our readers were made familiar at the beginning of this story. It yet stood, under the shade of the fine avenue of lime-trees, which forms one of the most frequent walks of the idlers of Marseilles, covered by an immense vine, which spreads its aged and blackened branches over the stone front, burnt yellow by the ardent sun of the south. Two stone steps worn away by the friction of many feet led to the door, which was made of three planks; the door had never been painted or varnished, so great cracks yawned in it during the dry season to close again when the rains came on. The house, with all its crumbling antiquity and apparent misery, was yet cheerful and picturesque, and was the same that old Dantès formerly inhabited--the only difference being that the old man occupied merely the garret, while the whole house was now placed at the command of Mercédès by the count. 
The woman whom the count had seen leave the ship with so much regret entered this house; she had scarcely closed the door after her when Monte Cristo appeared at the corner of a street, so that he found and lost her again almost at the same instant. The worn out steps were old acquaintances of his; he knew better than any one else how to open that weather-beaten door with the large headed nail which served to raise the latch within. He entered without knocking, or giving any other intimation of his presence, as if he had been a friend or the master of the place. At the end of a passage paved with bricks, was a little garden, bathed in sunshine, and rich in warmth and light. In this garden Mercédès had found, at the place indicated by the count, the sum of money which he, through a sense of delicacy, had described as having been placed there twenty-four years previously. The trees of the garden were easily seen from the steps of the street-door. Monte Cristo, on stepping into the house, heard a sigh that was almost a deep sob; he looked in the direction whence it came, and there under an arbor of Virginia jessamine, with its thick foliage and beautiful long purple flowers, he saw Mercédès seated, with her head bowed, and weeping bitterly. She had raised her veil, and with her face hidden by her hands was giving free scope to the sighs and tears which had been so long restrained by the presence of her son. Monte Cristo advanced a few steps, which were heard on the gravel. Mercédès raised her head, and uttered a cry of terror on beholding a man before her. 
"Madame," said the count, "it is no longer in my power to restore you to happiness, but I offer you consolation; will you deign to accept it as coming from a friend?" 
"I am, indeed, most wretched," replied Mercédès. "Alone in the world, I had but my son, and he has left me!" 
"He possesses a noble heart, madame," replied the count, "and he has acted rightly. He feels that every man owes a tribute to his country; some contribute their talents, others their industry; these devote their blood, those their nightly labors, to the same cause. Had he remained with you, his life must have become a hateful burden, nor would he have participated in your griefs. He will increase in strength and honor by struggling with adversity, which he will convert into prosperity. Leave him to build up the future for you, and I venture to say you will confide it to safe hands." 
"Oh," replied the wretched woman, mournfully shaking her head, "the prosperity of which you speak, and which, from the bottom of my heart, I pray God in his mercy to grant him, I can never enjoy. The bitter cup of adversity has been drained by me to the very dregs, and I feel that the grave is not far distant. You have acted kindly, count, in bringing me back to the place where I have enjoyed so much bliss. I ought to meet death on the same spot where happiness was once all my own." 
"Alas," said Monte Cristo, "your words sear and embitter my heart, the more so as you have every reason to hate me. I have been the cause of all your misfortunes; but why do you pity, instead of blaming me? You render me still more unhappy--" 
"Hate you, blame you--you, Edmond! Hate, reproach, the man that has spared my son's life! For was it not your fatal and sanguinary intention to destroy that son of whom M. de Morcerf was so proud? Oh, look at me closely, and discover if you can even the semblance of a reproach in me." The count looked up and fixed his eyes on Mercédès, who arose partly from her seat and extended both her hands towards him. "Oh, look at me," continued she, with a feeling of profound melancholy, "my eyes no longer dazzle by their brilliancy, for the time has long fled since I used to smile on Edmond Dantès, who anxiously looked out for me from the window of yonder garret, then inhabited by his old father. Years of grief have created an abyss between those days and the present. I neither reproach you nor hate you, my friend. Oh, no, Edmond, it is myself that I blame, myself that I hate! Oh, miserable creature that I am!" cried she, clasping her hands, and raising her eyes to heaven. "I once possessed piety, innocence, and love, the three ingredients of the happiness of angels, and now what am I?" Monte Cristo approached her, and silently took her hand. "No," said she, withdrawing it gently--"no, my friend, touch me not. You have spared me, yet of all those who have fallen under your vengeance I was the most guilty. They were influenced by hatred, by avarice, and by self-love; but I was base, and for want of courage acted against my judgment. Nay, do not press my hand, Edmond; you are thinking, I am sure, of some kind speech to console me, but do not utter it to me, reserve it for others more worthy of your kindness. See" (and she exposed her face completely to view)--"see, misfortune has silvered my hair, my eyes have shed so many tears that they are encircled by a rim of purple, and my brow is wrinkled. You, Edmond, on the contrary,--you are still young, handsome, dignified; it is because you have had faith; because you have had strength, because you have had trust in God, and God has sustained you. But as for me, I have been a coward; I have denied God and he has abandoned me." 
Mercédès burst into tears; her woman's heart was breaking under its load of memories. Monte Cristo took her hand and imprinted a kiss on it; but she herself felt that it was a kiss of no greater warmth than he would have bestowed on the hand of some marble statue of a saint. "It often happens," continued she, "that a first fault destroys the prospects of a whole life. I believed you dead; why did I survive you? What good has it done me to mourn for you eternally in the secret recesses of my heart?--only to make a woman of thirty-nine look like a woman of fifty. Why, having recognized you, and I the only one to do so--why was I able to save my son alone? Ought I not also to have rescued the man that I had accepted for a husband, guilty though he were? Yet I let him die! What do I say? Oh, merciful heavens, was I not accessory to his death by my supine insensibility, by my contempt for him, not remembering, or not willing to remember, that it was for my sake he had become a traitor and a perjurer? In what am I benefited by accompanying my son so far, since I now abandon him, and allow him to depart alone to the baneful climate of Africa? Oh, I have been base, cowardly, I tell you; I have abjured my affections, and like all renegades I am of evil omen to those who surround me!" 
"No, Mercédès," said Monte Cristo, "no; you judge yourself with too much severity. You are a noble-minded woman, and it was your grief that disarmed me. Still I was but an agent, led on by an invisible and offended Deity, who chose not to withhold the fatal blow that I was destined to hurl. I take that God to witness, at whose feet I have prostrated myself daily for the last ten years, that I would have sacrificed my life to you, and with my life the projects that were indissolubly linked with it. But--and I say it with some pride, Mercédès--God needed me, and I lived. Examine the past and the present, and endeavor to dive into futurity, and then say whether I am not a divine instrument. The most dreadful misfortunes, the most frightful sufferings, the abandonment of all those who loved me, the persecution of those who did not know me, formed the trials of my youth; when suddenly, from captivity, solitude, misery, I was restored to light and liberty, and became the possessor of a fortune so brilliant, so unbounded, so unheard-of, that I must have been blind not to be conscious that God had endowed me with it to work out his own great designs. From that time I looked upon this fortune as something confided to me for an especial purpose. Not a thought was given to a life which you once, Mercédès, had the power to render blissful; not one hour of peaceful calm was mine; but I felt myself driven on like an exterminating angel. Like adventurous captains about to embark on some enterprise full of danger, I laid in my provisions, I loaded my weapons, I collected every means of attack and defence; I inured my body to the most violent exercises, my soul to the bitterest trials; I taught my arm to slay, my eyes to behold excruciating sufferings, and my mouth to smile at the most horrid spectacles. Good-natured, confiding, and forgiving as I had been, I became revengeful, cunning, and wicked, or rather, immovable as fate. Then I launched out into the path that was opened to me. I overcame every obstacle, and reached the goal; but woe to those who stood in my pathway!" 
"Enough," said Mercédès; "enough, Edmond! Believe me, that she who alone recognized you has been the only one to comprehend you; and had she crossed your path, and you had crushed her like glass, still, Edmond, still she must have admired you! Like the gulf between me and the past, there is an abyss between you, Edmond, and the rest of mankind; and I tell you freely that the comparison I draw between you and other men will ever be one of my greatest tortures. No, there is nothing in the world to resemble you in worth and goodness! But we must say farewell, Edmond, and let us part." 
"Before I leave you, Mercédès, have you no request to make?" said the count. 
"I desire but one thing in this world, Edmond,--the happiness of my son." 
"Pray to the Almighty to spare his life, and I will take upon myself to promote his happiness." 
"Thank you, Edmond." 
"But have you no request to make for yourself, Mercédès?" 
"For myself I want nothing. I live, as it were, between two graves. One is that of Edmond Dantès, lost to me long, long since. He had my love! That word ill becomes my faded lip now, but it is a memory dear to my heart, and one that I would not lose for all that the world contains. The other grave is that of the man who met his death from the hand of Edmond Dantès. I approve of the deed, but I must pray for the dead." 
"Your son shall be happy, Mercédès," repeated the count. 
"Then I shall enjoy as much happiness as this world can possibly confer." 
"But what are your intentions?" 
"To say that I shall live here, like the Mercédès of other times, gaining my bread by labor, would not be true, nor would you believe me. I have no longer the strength to do anything but to spend my days in prayer. However, I shall have no occasion to work, for the little sum of money buried by you, and which I found in the place you mentioned, will be sufficient to maintain me. Rumor will probably be busy respecting me, my occupations, my manner of living--that will signify but little." 
"Mercédès," said the count, "I do not say it to blame you, but you made an unnecessary sacrifice in relinquishing the whole of the fortune amassed by M. de Morcerf; half of it at least by right belonged to you, in virtue of your vigilance and economy." 
"I perceive what you are intending to propose to me; but I cannot accept it, Edmond--my son would not permit it." 
"Nothing shall be done without the full approbation of Albert de Morcerf. I will make myself acquainted with his intentions and will submit to them. But if he be willing to accept my offers, will you oppose them?" 
"You well know, Edmond, that I am no longer a reasoning creature; I have no will, unless it be the will never to decide. I have been so overwhelmed by the many storms that have broken over my head, that I am become passive in the hands of the Almighty, like a sparrow in the talons of an eagle. I live, because it is not ordained for me to die. If succor be sent to me, I will accept it." 
"Ah, madame," said Monte Cristo, "you should not talk thus! It is not so we should evince our resignation to the will of heaven; on the contrary, we are all free agents." 
"Alas!" exclaimed Mercédès, "if it were so, if I possessed free-will, but without the power to render that will efficacious, it would drive me to despair." Monte Cristo dropped his head and shrank from the vehemence of her grief. "Will you not even say you will see me again?" he asked. 
"On the contrary, we shall meet again," said Mercédès, pointing to heaven with solemnity. "I tell you so to prove to you that I still hope." And after pressing her own trembling hand upon that of the count, Mercédès rushed up the stairs and disappeared. Monte Cristo slowly left the house and turned towards the quay. But Mercédès did not witness his departure, although she was seated at the little window of the room which had been occupied by old Dantès. Her eyes were straining to see the ship which was carrying her son over the vast sea; but still her voice involuntarily murmured softly, "Edmond, Edmond, Edmond!"  
最近发生的几件事成了整个巴黎谈论的话题。艾曼纽和他的妻子，这时就在他们密斯雷路的小房子里颇感兴趣地谈论那些事件。他们在把马尔塞夫、腾格拉尔和维尔福那三件接连而来的灾难作对比。去拜访他们的马西米兰没精打彩地听着他们的谈话，木然地坐在一旁。 
“真的，”尤莉说，“我们简直要这样想了，艾曼纽，这些人，在富有、快乐的时候，却忘记了有一个凶神在他们的头上盘旋，而那凶神，象贝洛音话里那些奸恶的小妖精一样，因为没有被邀请去参加婚礼或受洗典礼，不肯受忽视，突然出来为他自己复仇了。” 
“意想不到的灾难！”艾曼纽说，他想到了马尔塞夫和腾格拉尔。 
“多么难以忍受的痛苦呀！”尤莉说，他想到了瓦朗蒂娜，但凭着一个女人的知觉，她没有在她哥哥的面前提起她。 
“如果是上帝在惩罚他们的话，”艾曼纽说，“那是因为至高无上的上帝发现他们过去的生活里找不到值得减轻他们的痛苦的事情，那是因为他们命中注定要受到惩罚的。” 
“你这个判断是不是下得卤莽了一点，艾曼纽？”尤莉说。 
“当我的父亲拿着手枪想自杀的时候，假如那时有人说，‘这个人是理应受苦的。’那个人岂不是大错特错了吗？” 
“是的，但上帝没有让我们的父亲去死呀，正如他不许亚伯拉罕献出他的儿子一样。上帝对那位老人，象对我们一样，派了一位天使来捉住了死神的翅膀。” 
艾曼纽刚说出这几句话，铃声响了，——这是门房的信号，表示有客人来访。接着，房门打开了，基督山伯爵出现在门口。那对青年夫妇发出一声欢呼，马西米兰抬起头，但立刻又垂了下去。 
“马西米兰，”伯爵说，象是并未注意到自己的来访在主人身上引起的不同反应似的，“我是来找你的。” 
“来找我？”莫雷尔把他的话复述了一遍，象是刚从一场梦里醒来。 
“是的，”基督山说，“不是说定由我带着你一起走的吗？你做好准备起程的了吗？” 
“我准备好了，”马西米兰说，“我是特地来向他们告别的。” 
“您到哪儿去，伯爵？”尤莉问道。 
“首先到马赛，夫人。” 
“到马赛去！”那对青年夫妇喊道。 
“是的，我要带你们的哥哥一起去。” 
“噢，伯爵！”尤莉说，“你可以医好他的抑郁症吗？ 
莫雷尔转过脸去，掩饰他狼狈的表情。 
“那么你们觉得他并不快乐吗？”伯爵说。 
“是的，”那年轻女子答道，“我很担心，他会不会认为我们的家庭是一个没有乐趣的家庭？” 
“我没有改变他的。”伯爵答道。 
“我马上可以陪你去，阁下。”马西米兰说。“别了，我的朋友们！艾曼纽！尤莉！别了！” 
“怎么，别了？”尤莉喊道，“你难道就这样离开我们，不作任何准备，连护照都没有？” 
“时间拖长只会增加分离的悲痛，”基督山说，“一切必需的东西马西米兰毫无疑问都已经准备好了，——至少，我这样提醒过他。” 
“我有护照了，箱子也收拾好了。”莫雷尔用他的那种宁静而哀伤的口气说。 
“好！”基督山微笑着说，“由此可见一个训练有素的军人做事就是利索。” 
“您这就要走了，马上就离开了吗？”尤莉说，“您就不能多呆一天，哪怕再多呆一个钟头啊！” 
“我的车子在门口等着，夫人，我必须在五天之内赶到罗马。” 
“马西米兰也到罗马去吗？”艾曼纽喊道。 
“他带我去哪儿我就到哪儿去，”莫雷尔带着忧郁的笑容，“在此后这一个月内，我是属于他的。” 
“噢，天哪，他的话说得多么奇怪，伯爵。”尤莉说。 
“马西米兰陪着我去，”伯爵用他那种慈爱的和最有说服力的语气说，“所以你们不必为你们的哥哥担心。” 
“别了，我亲爱的妹妹，别了，艾曼纽！”莫雷尔又说。 
“看他那种漫不经心的样子我的心都碎了，”尤莉说。“噢，马西米兰，马西米兰，你一定对我隐瞒了什么事。” 
“嗯！”基督山说，“不久你们将看到他高高兴兴，脸带笑容地回来。” 
马西米兰向伯爵轻蔑地、几乎是愤怒的看了一眼。 
“我们出发吧。”基督山说。 
“在您离开我们以前，伯爵，”尤莉说，“许我们向您表示，将来有一天——” 
“夫人，”伯爵打断她的话，把她的双手合在他自己的手里，说，“你所能讲的话，决抵不上我在你的眼睛里所读到的意思，我完全明白你的意思。作为传奇小说里的恩人我本该不辞而别的，可我做不到，因为我是一个软弱的有虚荣心的人，也喜欢我的同类给我温柔、慈爱和感激的眼光。现在我要走了，请允许我自负地对你们说，别忘记我，我的朋友们，因为你们大概永远再也见不到我了。” 
“永远见不到你！”艾曼纽喊道，两滴大泪珠则滚下顺着尤莉的脸颊滚下来，——永远也见不到你！那么，离开我们的不是一个人而是一位天使了。这位天使到人世间来做了好事以后，便又要回到天上去了。” 
“别那么说，”基督山急忙答道，——“别那么说，我的朋友们。天使是不会做错事情的。天使可以随心所欲地行事。他们的力量胜过命运。不，艾曼纽，我只是一个人，你的赞扬不当，你的话是亵渎神明的。”于是他吻了吻尤莉的手，尤莉扑到他的怀里，他伸出手握了握艾曼纽的手，然后依依不舍地离开这座房子，离开这和平幸福的家庭。他向马西米兰作了手势，驯服地跟他出来，他脸色漠然毫无丧情。瓦朗蒂娜逝世以来，他一直都是这样子。 
“请让我哥哥恢复安宁和快乐。”尤莉低声对基督山说。伯爵捏一捏她的手，算是回答，象十一年以前他在莫雷尔的书斋门前楼梯口上握她的手时一模一样。 
“那么，你还信得过水手辛巴德吗？”他微笑着问道。 
“噢，是的！” 
“噢，那么，放心安睡，一切托付给上帝好了。” 
正如我们前面所说的，马车已等在门口。四匹强壮的马在不耐烦地蹬踏着地面，在台阶前，站着那满头大汗的阿里，他显然刚赶了大路回来。 
“噢，”伯爵用阿拉伯语问道，“你到那位老人家那里去过了吗？” 
阿里做了一个肯定的表示。 
“你按照我的吩咐，让他看了那封信？” 
“他怎么说？说得更准确些，他说什么？” 
阿里走到光线下面，使他的主人可以清晰地看到他的脸，模仿诺瓦蒂埃说“对”时的面部表情，闭拢双眼。 
“很好！他答应了，”基督山说，“我们走吧。” 
他话音刚落，车子便开动了，马蹄在石板路上溅起夹着尘埃的火花。马西米兰一言不发，坐在车厢的角落里。半小时以后，车子突然停住了，原来伯爵把那条从车子里通出去绑在阿里手指上的丝带拉了一下。那个努比亚人立刻下来，打开车门。这是一个繁星满天的夜晚，他们已到达维儿殊山的山顶上，从山上望出去，巴黎象是一片黑色的海，上面闪烁着磷光，象那些银光闪烁的海浪一样，——但这些浪头闪烁比那些海洋里翻腾不息的波浪更喧闹、更激奋、更多变、更凶猛、也更贪婪。这些浪头永远吐着白沫、永不停息的。伯爵独自立在那儿，他挥挥手，车子又向前走了几步。他把两臂交叉在胸前，沉思了一会儿，他的脑子象一座熔炉，曾铸造出种种激动世界的念头。当他那锐利的目光注视着这个为热心的宗教家、唯物主义者所同样注意的现代巴比伦的时候，他低垂着头，合拢手，象做祈祷似地说道：“伟大的城市呀，自从我第一次闯进你的大门到现在，还不到半年。我这次到这里来，其中的原因，我只向天主透露过，只有他才有力量看穿我的心思。只有上帝知道：我离开你的时候，既没有带走骄傲也没有带走仇恨，但却带走了遗憾。只有上帝知道：他所交给我的权力，我并没有用来满足我的私欲或作任何无意义的举动。噢，伟大的城市呀！在你那跳动的胸膛里，我找到了我要找的东西，象一个耐心的矿工一样，我在你的体内挖掘，铲除了其中的祸害。现在我的工作完成了，我的使命结束了，现在你不能再给我痛苦或欢乐了。别了，巴黎！别了！” 
他的目光象一个夜间的精灵一样在那广大的平原上留连着，他把手放在额头上走进马车，关上车门，车子便在一阵尘沙和响声中消失在山的那一边了。 
车行了六哩路，没有人说一句话。莫雷尔在梦想，基督山则一直望着他。 
“莫雷尔，”伯爵终于对他说，“你后悔跟我来吗？” 
“不，伯爵，但离开巴黎——” 
“如果我以为巴黎会让你快乐，莫雷尔，我就会把你留在那儿的。” 
“瓦朗蒂娜安息在巴黎，离开巴黎就象是第二次再失去她一样。” 
“马西米兰，”伯爵说，“我们失去的朋友不是安息在大地的胸膛里而是深深地埋在我们的心底。上帝是这样安排的，他们永远陪伴着我们。我就有这样两个朋友——一个给了我这个身体，一个给了我智慧。他们的精神活在我的身上。我每当有疑问的时候就与他们商量，如果我做了什么好事的话，我就归功于他们的忠告。听听你心里的声音吧，莫雷尔。你问问它，究竟你是否应该继续给我看一个忧郁的面孔。” 
“我的朋友，”马西米兰说，“我心里的声音非常悲哀，我只听到不幸。” 
“这是神经衰弱的缘故，一切东西看上去都象是隔着一层黑纱似的。灵魂有它自己的视线，你的灵魂被遮住了，所以你看到的未来是黑暗险恶的。” 
“或许真是那样。”马西米兰说，他又回到梦思的状态中。 
伯爵的无限本领使旅程完成得惊人地迅速，在他们所经的路上，市镇象影子似的向后飞去，那被初秋的风的吹得左右摇摆的树木，巨人般地向他们疯狂地迎面冲来，但一冲到面前便又急速地后退。第二天早上，他们到达夏龙，那儿，伯爵的汽船已在等待他们。马车立刻被拉上甲板，两位旅客也立即登船。那艘汽船是特造的快艇，它那两只划水轮象翅膀一样，船象鸟儿似的在水面上滑行。莫雷尔感到了这种在空中急速穿过的快感，风吹起他前额的头发，似乎暂时驱散了那凝聚在他额头上的愁云。两位旅客与巴黎之间距离愈来愈远，伯爵的身上也愈呈现出一种超乎人类所能有的宁静的气氛，象是一个流亡多年的人回到阔别多年的故乡似的。不久，马赛进入眼帘了，——那充满着生命活力的马赛，那繁衍着泰尔和迦太兰族后裔的马赛，那随着时间的推移愈来愈精力充沛的马赛。一看到那圆塔、圣·尼古拉堡和那砖块砌成的码头，记忆便搅动了他们的内心，当他们还是小孩子的时候，曾在这些地方玩耍过。他们怀着同样的心绪踏上卡尼般丽街。 
一艘大船正在升帆待发，准备开赴阿尔及尔，船上洋溢着一片起程前常有的那种匆忙喧闹。乘客和他们的亲友们群集在码头上，朋友们互相亲切而伤心地告别，有的哭泣，有的诉说着告别的话，形成了一种令人感动的场面，即使那些每天看到同样情形的人也不会无动于衷，但这却不能使马西米兰从他那奔腾的思潮里唤醒过来。 
“这儿，”他无力地扶着基督山手臂说，——“就在这个地方，我的父亲曾站着看埃及王号进港，就在这个地方，你救了他。脱离了死境和耻辱的父亲扑入我的怀里。我现在还觉得我的脸上沾着他那温热的眼泪，但那时并不只有他一个人流泪，许多旁观的人也都哭了。” 
基督山温和地微笑着说：“我那时站在那个地方，”他指着一个街角。当他说话的时候，就在他所指的那个方向，传来一声痛苦伤心的呻吟，一个女人正在向即将起锚的船上的一个旅客挥手。要不是莫雷尔的眼光这时的注意力集中在船上，他一定会注意到基督山看见那个女人时那种激动的情绪。 
“噢，天哪！”莫雷尔喊道，“我没有弄错！那个在挥帽子的青年人，那个穿制服的年轻人，是阿尔贝·马尔塞夫！” 
“是的，”基督山说，“我也认出他了。” 
“怎么会呢？你在看着他对面的方向呀。” 
伯爵微笑了一下，当他不想回答的时候，他总是这样微笑的，他把眼光回到那蒙面的女人身上，那女人不久便消失在街角上。伯爵回过头来对他的朋友说：“亲爱的马西米兰，你在这儿没有什么事情要做吗？” 
“我得到我父亲的坟上去一趟。”莫雷尔用一种哽咽的声音说。 
“那么去吧，在那儿等我，我很快来找你。” 
“那么你现在要离开我了？” 
“是的，我也要去访问一个人。” 
莫雷尔把手放在伯爵伸过来的手里，然后低垂着头悲伤地离开伯爵，向城东走去。基督山仍站在老地方，一直等到马西米兰走出他的视线，然后他慢慢地向梅朗巷走过去，去找一所小房子，那所小房子，想必读者们已对它相当熟悉了。 
它坐落在无事的马赛人最爱到这儿来散步的大道的后面，一棵极大的葡萄树的年老发黑的枝条伏在那被南方灼热的太阳晒得发黄的墙上。两级被鞋底磨光的石头台阶通向由三块木板所拼成的门，那扇门，从来没上过油漆，早已露出裂缝，只在每年夏季到来的时候才因潮湿合成一块。这座房子外表虽然很破，但却有它美丽动人的地方。它和老唐太斯以前住在这儿的时候并没有两样，但老人只住阁楼，而伯爵现在则已把整幢房子都交给美塞苔丝掌管。 
伯爵看见郁郁不欢地离开码头的那个女人走进这座房子，她刚走进去，关上门，基督山便在街角上出现，所以他几乎刚看见她便又失去了她的踪迹。那磨损的石阶是他的老相识，他比谁都清楚，用一枚大头钉就要以拨开里面的插销来打开那扇风雨剥蚀的门。他进去的时候不敲门也没有任何其他表示，好象他是主人的亲密的朋友或房东一样。在一条砖块铺成的甬道尽头有一个小花园浴在阳光里，在这个小花园里，美塞苔丝曾根据伯爵的指示找到他二十四年以前埋下的那笔钱。站在门口的阶沿上就可以看见花园里的树木。伯爵在踏进那座房子的时候听见一声好象啜泣一样的叹息；他循望过去，那儿，在一个素馨木架成的凉棚底下，在浓密的枝叶和紫色的细长花朵的下面，他看见美塞苔丝正在垂头哭泣。她已揭起面纱，她的脸埋在手里，独对苍天之际，她自由地发泄着在她儿子面前抑制了这么久的叹息和眼泪。基督山向前走了几步，小石子在他的脚底下发出的声音使美塞苔丝抬起头来，看见一个男人站在她的面前，她惊恐地大叫。 
“夫人，”伯爵说，“我已经没有办法使你快乐了，但我还可以给你安慰，你肯把我当朋友看待，并接受我的安慰吗？” 
“我的确薄命，”美塞苔丝答道。——“孤零零地活在世界上。我只有一个儿子，而他已经离我远去了！” 
“他有一颗高贵的心，夫人，”伯爵答道，“他做得很对。他觉得每一个人都应该对他的国家有所贡献，有人贡献他们的天才，有人贡献他们的勤勉，有人献出了他们的血，有人献出了他们的才智，都是为了同样的目的。如果他留在你的身边，他的生命一定会变得毫无意义，他将无法分担你的忧虑。与厄运抗争，他将增加他的精力并提高他的名誉，把逆境变为顺境。让他去为你们创造美好的未来吧。因为我敢向你保证他会得到细心的照料的。” 
“噢！”那可怜的女人悲戚地摇摇头，“你所说的那种顺境，我从心坎里祈祷上帝赐给他，但我不能享受了。我已万念俱灰，我觉得坟墓已离我不远了。你是个好心人，伯爵，把我带回我曾经快乐过的地方。人是应该死在他曾经有过快乐的那个地方的。” 
“唉！”基督山说，“你的话让我心痛，尤其是你有理由恨我，——你的一切不幸都是我造或的。但你为什么要怜悯我呢？你使我更难堪，如果——” 
“恨你，责备你，——你？爱德蒙？憎恨责备那个饶恕我儿子的生命的人？你本来发誓，要毁灭马尔塞夫先生非常引以自傲的那个儿子，但您没有那么做。” 
伯爵看着美塞苔丝，她站起身，向他伸出双手。 
“噢，看着我！”她带着一种非常哀戚的神情继续说，“我的眼睛已没有光彩了，以前，我到这儿来，向那在他父亲所住的阁楼窗口等待我的爱德蒙·唐太斯微笑，但那是很久以前的事了。岁月随着痛苦流逝。在那些日子与现在之间造成了一道深渊。咒你，爱德蒙！恨你，我的朋友！不，我应责备的是我自己，我所恨的是我自己！噢，我这可怜的人哪！” 
她紧握着双手，抬头向天喊道。“我受了怎样的罚呀！——那让天使快乐的三个因素，我曾一度拥有虔敬、纯洁和爱——而我现在变成了一个可怜虫，居然怀疑上帝的仁慈了！” 
基督山走过去，默默地握住她的一只手。 
“不，”她轻轻地抽回那只手说，——“不，我的朋友，不要碰我。你饶恕了我，但在遭你报复的那些人之中，我是罪孽最深的人。他们或是出于仇恨，或是出于贪欲，或是出于私爱，但我却下贱，缺乏勇气，竟违背自己的判断行事。不，不要握我的手，爱德蒙，你想说一些亲切的话，我看得出的，但别说了。留给别人吧，我是不配再接受那种话的了。瞧，” 
她抬起头，让他看到她的脸，“瞧，不幸已使我白了头，我曾流过那样多的眼泪，没有了光彩，我的额头出现了皱纹。你，爱德蒙，却恰恰相反，你依旧还年轻、漂亮、威风，那是因为你从未怀疑过上帝的仁慈，上帝支持你经过了历次风险。” 
当美塞苔丝说话的时候，泪珠成串成串地滚下她的脸颊。 
记忆使她的痛苦更清晰，那可怜的女人的心碎了。基督山拿起她的手，恭敬地吻了一下，但她觉得那是一个没有温情的吻，象是他在吻一个圣女的大理石像的手一样。“人的一生是命中注定的，”她继续说，“一次过失就会失去终生的幸福。我相信你已经死了，本来也该去死？我在心里为你哀悼对我有什么好处呢？只是使一个三十九岁的女人看来象一个五十岁的老太婆而已。为什么，只有我一个人认出你，而我却只能救我的儿子一个人呢？我也应该拯救那个虽然有罪但却已被我接受为丈夫的那个人？可是我却听任他去死！我说什么呀？噢，仁慈的上帝！他的死不是我促成的吗？因为我因循麻木，瞧不起他，不愿意记得他是为了我的缘故才犯下变节叛卖的罪行。我陪我的儿子来了这儿，有什么用呢？既然我现在又失去了他，让他独自去受非洲恶毒的气候。噢，我告诉你，我曾是个下贱懦怯的女人，我背弃我的爱情，象所有背叛教义的人一样，我把不幸带给了我周围的人！” 
“不，美塞苔丝，”基督山说，“不，你把自己说得太坏了。你是一位高尚纯洁的女性，是你的悲痛软化了我的心。可是，我只是一个使者，指使我的是一位看不见的恼怒的上帝，他无意使我那已经开始的惩罚半途而废。我以那位过去十年来我每天俯伏在他脚上的上帝作证，我本来愿意为你牺牲我的生命，和那与我的生命不可分割的种种计划。但是，——我可以很自傲地说，美塞苔丝——上帝需要我，为了上帝活下来了。请审视我的过去与现在，并猜测将来，然后再说我究竟是否只是神的工具。不幸、痛苦、被人遗弃、受人迫害，这一切构成了我青年时代的苦难。然后，突然地，从囚禁、孤独、痛苦中，重新获得了光明和自由，拥有了一大笔闻所未闻的财产，假如那时我不明白是上帝要我用那笔财产来执行他伟大的计划，我一定是瞎了眼睛了。从那时起，我就把这笔财产看成上帝的神圣托付。从那时起，我就没有再想过那种即使象你这样可怜的女人有时也能享到甜蜜生命的。这不曾得到一小时的安静，——一次都没有。我觉得自己象是一片要去烧毁那些命中注定该毁灭的城市的火云，被驱赶着在天空中飞行。象那些富于冒险精神的船长要去进行某种充满危险的航程一样，我作了种种准备，在枪膛里装上子弹，拟定各种进攻和防守的方案，我用最剧烈的运动锻炼我的身体，用最痛苦考验磨炼我的灵魂。我训练手臂使它习惯于杀人，训练我的眼睛习惯于看人受折磨，训练我的嘴巴对最可怖的情景微笑。我的本性虽然善良、坦率和宽大，但我却能变成了狡猾、奸诈、有仇必报，——或说得更确切一些，变得象命运一样的冷酷无情。然后我踏上展现在我面前的征途。我克服了种种障碍，达到我的目标，那些企图挡住我道路的人却遭了殃！” 
“够了！”美塞苔丝说，“够了，爱德蒙！相信我，只有那个一开始就认识你的是了解你的，即使她曾挡住你的路，即使你曾把她象一块脆玻璃那样踩得粉碎，可是，爱德蒙，可是她依旧还是崇拜你！象我与过去之间存在着一条鸿沟一样，你与其他的人之间，也存在着一道深渊。我可以担白地告诉你，把我心目中你和其他男子比较，这是使我痛苦的主要原因。不，世界上再没有象你那样可敬和善良的人了，现在让我们告别吧，爱德蒙，让我们分手吧。” 
“在我离开你以前，美塞苔丝，你没有任何要求了吗？”伯爵说。 
“我在这个世上存有一个希望，爱德蒙，——希望我儿子能够幸福。” 
“请祈祷上帝保佑他，我可以努力让他幸福。” 
“谢谢，谢谢，爱德蒙！” 
“但对你自己难道毫无所求吗，美塞苔丝？” 
“我自己什么都不需要，我象是生活在两座坟墓之间。一座是爱德蒙·唐太斯的，我是在很久很久以前失去他的。我爱他。这句话从我这褪色的嘴唇上说出来并不动听，但它是我心里珍藏的一个宝贵记忆，即使用世界上一切的东西来交换，我也不愿意失去它。另外那座坟墓是死在爱德蒙手里的那个人的，我并不惋惜他死，但我必须为死者祈祷。” 
“你的儿子会幸福的，夫人。”伯爵说。 
“那么我还能够得到一些安慰了。” 
“但你准备怎么样呢？” 
“说我在这儿能象以前的美塞苔丝那样凭劳动换取面包，那当然不是真话，说了你也不会相信。我除了祈祷以外，已经不能再做别的事情了。但是，我也没有必要工作，你埋下的那一笔钱，我已经找到了，那笔钱已足够维持我的生活。关于我的谣言大概会很多，猜测我的职业，谈论我的生活态度，只要有上帝作证，那没有了什么关系。” 
“美塞苔丝，”伯爵说，“我说这句话并不是来责备你，但你放弃马尔塞夫先生的全部财产是一种不必要的牺牲。其中至少有一半是理应是属于你的，那是精心操持那个家应得的。我不能接受，爱德蒙。我的儿子不答应的。我知道你要向我建议什么。” 
“一切当然应该得到阿尔贝·马尔塞夫的完全认可。”我将亲自去征询他的意见。如果他愿意接受我的建议，你会反对吗？” 
“你很清楚，爱德蒙，我已经不再是一个理智的人了，没有了意志，已经不能决定了。我已被那冲到我头上来的惊涛骇浪弄糊涂了，我已变得听天由命、听任上帝的摆布，象是大鹰扑下的燕子一样。我活着，只是因为我命中注定还不应该死。假如上帝来援救我，我是肯接受的。” 
“啊，夫人，”基督山说，“我们不是这样崇拜上帝的。上帝的本意是要我们了解他，辩明他的真意，为了这个原因，他给了我们自由意志的。” 
“噢！”美塞苔丝喊道，“别对我说那句话！难道我应该相信上帝给了我自由的意志，我能用它来把我自己从绝望中解救出来吗？” 
基督山低下头，在她那样沉痛的悲哀面前不禁有点畏缩。 
“你不愿意和我说一声再见吗？”他问道，并向她伸出手。 
“当然，我要对你说再见，”美塞苔丝说，并庄严地指着天。“我对你说这两个字，就是向你表示：我还怀着希望。”于是，美塞苔丝用她那颤抖的手和伯爵的手握了握以后，便冲上楼去。 
基督山慢慢地离开那所房子，向码头走去。美塞苔丝虽然坐在以前老唐太斯所住的那个房间的小窗前面，却并没有看到他离开了。她正在极目了望大海上那艘载着她儿子的船，但她却仍不由自主地用温柔的声音轻轻地说：“爱德蒙！爱德蒙！爱德蒙！”  
Chapter 113 The Past
 THE COUNT departed with a sad heart from the house in which he had left Mercédès, probably never to behold her again. Since the death of little Edward a great change had taken place in Monte Cristo. Having reached the summit of his vengeance by a long and tortuous path, he saw an abyss of doubt yawning before him. More than this, the conversation which had just taken place between Mercédès and himself had awakened so many recollections in his heart that he felt it necessary to combat with them. A man of the count's temperament could not long indulge in that melancholy which can exist in common minds, but which destroys superior ones. He thought he must have made an error in his calculations if he now found cause to blame himself. 
"I cannot have deceived myself," he said; "I must look upon the past in a false light. What!" he continued, "can I have been following a false path?--can the end which I proposed be a mistaken end?--can one hour have sufficed to prove to an architect that the work upon which he founded all his hopes was an impossible, if not a sacrilegious, undertaking? I cannot reconcile myself to this idea--it would madden me. The reason why I am now dissatisfied is that I have not a clear appreciation of the past. The past, like the country through which we walk, becomes indistinct as we advance. My position is like that of a person wounded in a dream; he feels the wound, though he cannot recollect when he received it. Come, then, thou regenerate man, thou extravagant prodigal, thou awakened sleeper, thou all-powerful visionary, thou invincible millionaire,--once again review thy past life of starvation and wretchedness, revisit the scenes where fate and misfortune conducted, and where despair received thee. Too many diamonds, too much gold and splendor, are now reflected by the mirror in which Monte Cristo seeks to behold Dantès. Hide thy diamonds, bury thy gold, shroud thy splendor, exchange riches for poverty, liberty for a prison, a living body for a corpse!" As he thus reasoned, Monte Cristo walked down the Rue de la Caisserie. It was the same through which, twenty-four years ago, he had been conducted by a silent and nocturnal guard; the houses, to-day so smiling and animated, were on that night dark, mute, and closed. "And yet they were the same," murmured Monte Cristo, "only now it is broad daylight instead of night; it is the sun which brightens the place, and makes it appear so cheerful." 
He proceeded towards the quay by the Rue Saint-Laurent, and advanced to the Consigne; it was the point where he had embarked. A pleasure-boat with striped awning was going by. Monte Cristo called the owner, who immediately rowed up to him with the eagerness of a boatman hoping for a good fare. The weather was magnificent, and the excursion a treat. 
The sun, red and flaming, was sinking into the embrace of the welcoming ocean. The sea, smooth as crystal, was now and then disturbed by the leaping of fish, which were pursued by some unseen enemy and sought for safety in another element; while on the extreme verge of the horizon might be seen the fishermen's boats, white and graceful as the sea-gull, or the merchant vessels bound for Corsica or Spain. 
But notwithstanding the serene sky, the gracefully formed boats, and the golden light in which the whole scene was bathed, the Count of Monte Cristo, wrapped in his cloak, could think only of this terrible voyage, the details of which were one by one recalled to his memory. The solitary light burning at the Catalans; that first sight of the Chateau d'If, which told him whither they were leading him; the struggle with the gendarmes when he wished to throw himself overboard; his despair when he found himself vanquished, and the sensation when the muzzle of the carbine touched his forehead--all these were brought before him in vivid and frightful reality. Like the streams which the heat of the summer has dried up, and which after the autumnal storms gradually begin oozing drop by drop, so did the count feel his heart gradually fill with the bitterness which formerly nearly overwhelmed Edmond Dantès. Clear sky, swift-flitting boats, and brilliant sunshine disappeared; the heavens were hung with black, and the gigantic structure of the Chateau d'If seemed like the phantom of a mortal enemy. As they reached the shore, the count instinctively shrunk to the extreme end of the boat, and the owner was obliged to call out, in his sweetest tone of voice, "Sir, we are at the landing." 
Monte Cristo remembered that on that very spot, on the same rock, he had been violently dragged by the guards, who forced him to ascend the slope at the points of their bayonets. The journey had seemed very long to Dantès, but Monte Cristo found it equally short. Each stroke of the oar seemed to awaken a new throng of ideas, which sprang up with the flying spray of the sea. 
There had been no prisoners confined in the Chateau d'If since the revolution of July; it was only inhabited by a guard, kept there for the prevention of smuggling. A concièrge waited at the door to exhibit to visitors this monument of curiosity, once a scene of terror. The count inquired whether any of the ancient jailers were still there; but they had all been pensioned, or had passed on to some other employment. The concièrge who attended him had only been there since 1830. He visited his own dungeon. He again beheld the dull light vainly endeavoring to penetrate the narrow opening. His eyes rested upon the spot where had stood his bed, since then removed, and behind the bed the new stones indicated where the breach made by the Abbé Faria had been. Monte Cristo felt his limbs tremble; he seated himself upon a log of wood. 
"Are there any stories connected with this prison besides the one relating to the poisoning of Mirabeau?" asked the count; "are there any traditions respecting these dismal abodes,--in which it is difficult to believe men can ever have imprisoned their fellow-creatures?" 
"Yes, sir; indeed, the jailer Antoine told me one connected with this very dungeon." 
Monte Cristo shuddered; Antoine had been his jailer. He had almost forgotten his name and face, but at the mention of the name he recalled his person as he used to see it, the face encircled by a beard, wearing the brown jacket, the bunch of keys, the jingling of which he still seemed to hear. The count turned around, and fancied he saw him in the corridor, rendered still darker by the torch carried by the concièrge. "Would you like to hear the story, sir?" 
"Yes; relate it," said Monte Cristo, pressing his hand to his heart to still its violent beatings; he felt afraid of hearing his own history. 
"This dungeon," said the concièrge, "was, it appears, some time ago occupied by a very dangerous prisoner, the more so since he was full of industry. Another person was confined in the Chateau at the same time, but he was not wicked, he was only a poor mad priest." 
"Ah, indeed?--mad!" repeated Monte Cristo; "and what was his mania?" 
"He offered millions to any one who would set him at liberty." 
Monte Cristo raised his eyes, but he could not see the heavens; there was a stone veil between him and the firmament. He thought that there had been no less thick a veil before the eyes of those to whom Faria offered the treasures. "Could the prisoners see each other?" he asked. 
"Oh, no, sir, it was expressly forbidden; but they eluded the vigilance of the guards, and made a passage from one dungeon to the other." 
"And which of them made this passage?" 
"Oh, it must have been the young man, certainly, for he was strong and industrious, while the abbé was aged and weak; besides, his mind was too vacillating to allow him to carry out an idea." 
"Blind fools!" murmured the count. 
"However, be that as it may, the young man made a tunnel, how or by what means no one knows; but he made it, and there is the evidence yet remaining of his work. Do you see it?" and the man held the torch to the wall. 
"Ah, yes; I see," said the count, in a voice hoarse from emotion. 
"The result was that the two men communicated with one another; how long they did so, nobody knows. One day the old man fell ill and died. Now guess what the young one did?" 
"Tell me." 
"He carried off the corpse, which he placed in his own bed with its face to the wall; then he entered the empty dungeon, closed the entrance, and slipped into the sack which had contained the dead body. Did you ever hear of such an idea?" Monte Cristo closed his eyes, and seemed again to experience all the sensations he had felt when the coarse canvas, yet moist with the cold dews of death, had touched his face. The jailer continued: "Now this was his project. He fancied that they buried the dead at the Chateau d'If, and imagining they would not expend much labor on the grave of a prisoner, he calculated on raising the earth with his shoulders, but unfortunately their arrangements at the Chateau frustrated his projects. They never buried the dead; they merely attached a heavy cannon-ball to the feet, and then threw them into the sea. This is what was done. The young man was thrown from the top of the rock; the corpse was found on the bed next day, and the whole truth was guessed, for the men who performed the office then mentioned what they had not dared to speak of before, that at the moment the corpse was thrown into the deep, they heard a shriek, which was almost immediately stifled by the water in which it disappeared." The count breathed with difficulty; the cold drops ran down his forehead, and his heart was full of anguish. 
"No," he muttered, "the doubt I felt was but the commencement of forgetfulness; but here the wound reopens, and the heart again thirsts for vengeance. And the prisoner," he continued aloud, "was he ever heard of afterwards?" 
"Oh, no; of course not. You can understand that one of two things must have happened; he must either have fallen flat, in which case the blow, from a height of ninety feet, must have killed him instantly, or he must have fallen upright, and then the weight would have dragged him to the bottom, where he remained--poor fellow!" 
"Then you pity him?" said the count. 
"Ma foi, yes; though he was in his own element." 
"What do you mean?" 
"The report was that he had been a naval officer, who had been confined for plotting with the Bonapartists." 
"Great is truth," muttered the count, "fire cannot burn, nor water drown it! Thus the poor sailor lives in the recollection of those who narrate his history; his terrible story is recited in the chimney-corner, and a shudder is felt at the description of his transit through the air to be swallowed by the deep." Then, the count added aloud, "Was his name ever known?" 
"Oh, yes; but only as No. 34." 
"Oh, Villefort, Villefort," murmured the count, "this scene must often have haunted thy sleepless hours!" 
"Do you wish to see anything more, sir?" said the concièrge. 
"Yes, especially if you will show me the poor abbé's room." 
"Ah--No. 27." 
"Yes; No. 27." repeated the count, who seemed to hear the voice of the abbé answering him in those very words through the wall when asked his name. 
"Come, sir." 
"Wait," said Monte Cristo, "I wish to take one final glance around this room." 
"This is fortunate," said the guide; "I have forgotten the other key." 
"Go and fetch it." 
"I will leave you the torch, sir." 
"No, take it away; I can see in the dark." 
"Why, you are like No. 34. They said he was so accustomed to darkness that he could see a pin in the darkest corner of his dungeon." 
"He spent fourteen years to arrive at that," muttered the count. 
The guide carried away the torch. The count had spoken correctly. Scarcely had a few seconds elapsed, ere he saw everything as distinctly as by daylight. Then he looked around him, and really recognized his dungeon. 
"Yes," he said, "there is the stone upon which I used to sit; there is the impression made by my shoulders on the wall; there is the mark of my blood made when one day I dashed my head against the wall. Oh, those figures, how well I remember them! I made them one day to calculate the age of my father, that I might know whether I should find him still living, and that of Mercédès, to know if I should find her still free. After finishing that calculation, I had a minute's hope. I did not reckon upon hunger and infidelity!" and a bitter laugh escaped the count. He saw in fancy the burial of his father, and the marriage of Mercédès. On the other side of the dungeon he perceived an inscription, the white letters of which were still visible on the green wall. "'O God,'" he read, "'preserve my memory!' Oh, yes," he cried, "that was my only prayer at last; I no longer begged for liberty, but memory; I dreaded to become mad and forgetful. O God, thou hast preserved my memory; I thank thee, I thank thee!" At this moment the light of the torch was reflected on the wall; the guide was coming; Monte Cristo went to meet him. 
"Follow me, sir;" and without ascending the stairs the guide conducted him by a subterraneous passage to another entrance. There, again, Monte Cristo was assailed by a multitude of thoughts. The first thing that met his eye was the meridian, drawn by the abbé on the wall, by which he calculated the time; then he saw the remains of the bed on which the poor prisoner had died. The sight of this, instead of exciting the anguish experienced by the count in the dungeon, filled his heart with a soft and grateful sentiment, and tears fell from his eyes. 
"This is where the mad abbé was kept, sir, and that is where the young man entered; "and the guide pointed to the opening, which had remained unclosed. "From the appearance of the stone," he continued, "a learned gentleman discovered that the prisoners might have communicated together for ten years. Poor things! Those must have been ten weary years." 
Dantès took some louis from his pocket, and gave them to the man who had twice unconsciously pitied him. The guide took them, thinking them merely a few pieces of little value; but the light of the torch revealed their true worth. "Sir," he said, "you have made a mistake; you have given me gold." 
"I know it." The concièrge looked upon the count with surprise. "Sir," he cried, scarcely able to believe his good fortune--"sir, I cannot understand your generosity!" 
"Oh, it is very simple, my good fellow; I have been a sailor, and your story touched me more than it would others." 
"Then, sir, since you are so liberal, I ought to offer you something." 
"What have you to offer to me, my friend? Shells? Straw-work? Thank you!" 
"No, sir, neither of those; something connected with this story." 
"Really? What is it?" 
"Listen," said the guide; "I said to myself, 'Something is always left in a cell inhabited by one prisoner for fifteen years,' so I began to sound the wall." 
"Ah," cried Monte Cristo, remembering the abbé's two hiding-places. 
"After some search, I found that the floor gave a hollow sound near the head of the bed, and at the hearth." 
"Yes," said the count, "yes." 
"I raised the stones, and found"-- 
"A rope-ladder and some tools?" 
"How do you know that?" asked the guide in astonishment. 
"I do not know--I only guess it, because that sort of thing is generally found in prisoners' cells." 
"Yes, sir, a rope-ladder and tools." 
"And have you them yet?" 
"No, sir; I sold them to visitors, who considered them great curiosities; but I have still something left." 
"What is it?" asked the count, impatiently. 
"A sort of book, written upon strips of cloth." 
"Go and fetch it, my good fellow; and if it be what I hope, you will do well." 
"I will run for it, sir;" and the guide went out. Then the count knelt down by the side of the bed, which death had converted into an altar. "Oh, second father," he exclaimed, "thou who hast given me liberty, knowledge, riches; thou who, like beings of a superior order to ourselves, couldst understand the science of good and evil; if in the depths of the tomb there still remain something within us which can respond to the voice of those who are left on earth; if after death the soul ever revisit the places where we have lived and suffered,--then, noble heart, sublime soul, then I conjure thee by the paternal love thou didst bear me, by the filial obedience I vowed to thee, grant me some sign, some revelation! Remove from me the remains of doubt, which, if it change not to conviction, must become remorse!" The count bowed his head, and clasped his hands together. 
"Here, sir," said a voice behind him. 
Monte Cristo shuddered, and arose. The concièrge held out the strips of cloth upon which the Abbé Faria had spread the riches of his mind. The manuscript was the great work by the Abbé Faria upon the kingdoms of Italy. The count seized it hastily, his eyes immediately fell upon the epigraph, and he read, "'Thou shalt tear out the dragons' teeth, and shall trample the lions under foot, saith the Lord.'" 
"Ah," he exclaimed, "here is my answer. Thanks, father, thanks." And feeling in his pocket, he took thence a small pocket-book, which contained ten bank-notes, each of 1,000 francs. 
"Here," he said, "take this pocket-book." 
"Do you give it to me?" 
"Yes; but only on condition that you will not open it till I am gone;" and placing in his breast the treasure he had just found, which was more valuable to him than the richest jewel, he rushed out of the corridor, and reaching his boat, cried, "To Marseilles!" Then, as he departed, he fixed his eyes upon the gloomy prison. "Woe," he cried, "to those who confined me in that wretched prison; and woe to those who forgot that I was there!" As he repassed the Catalans, the count turned around and burying his head in his cloak murmured the name of a woman. The victory was complete; twice he had overcome his doubts. The name he pronounced, in a voice of tenderness, amounting almost to love, was that of Haidée. 
On landing, the count turned towards the cemetery, where he felt sure of finding Morrel. He, too, ten years ago, had piously sought out a tomb, and sought it vainly. He, who returned to France with millions, had been unable to find the grave of his father, who had perished from hunger. Morrel had indeed placed a cross over the spot, but it had fallen down and the grave-digger had burnt it, as he did all the old wood in the churchyard. The worthy merchant had been more fortunate. Dying in the arms of his children, he had been by them laid by the side of his wife, who had preceded him in eternity by two years. Two large slabs of marble, on which were inscribed their names, were placed on either side of a little enclosure, railed in, and shaded by four cypress-trees. Morrel was leaning against one of these, mechanically fixing his eyes on the graves. His grief was so profound that he was nearly unconscious. "Maximilian," said the count, "you should not look on the graves, but there;" and he pointed upwards. 
"The dead are everywhere," said Morrel; "did you not yourself tell me so as we left Paris?" 
"Maximilian," said the count, "you asked me during the journey to allow you to remain some days at Marseilles. Do you still wish to do so?" 
"I have no wishes, count; only I fancy I could pass the time less painfully here than anywhere else." 
"So much the better, for I must leave you; but I carry your word with me, do I not?" 
"Ah, count, I shall forget it." 
"No, you will not forget it, because you are a man of honor, Morrel, because you have taken an oath, and are about to do so again." 
"Oh, count, have pity upon me. I am so unhappy." 
"I have known a man much more unfortunate than you, Morrel." 
"Impossible!" 
"Alas," said Monte Cristo, "it is the infirmity of our nature always to believe ourselves much more unhappy than those who groan by our sides!" 
"What can be more wretched than the man who has lost all he loved and desired in the world?" 
"Listen, Morrel, and pay attention to what I am about to tell you. I knew a man who like you had fixed all his hopes of happiness upon a woman. He was young, he had an old father whom he loved, a betrothed bride whom he adored. He was about to marry her, when one of the caprices of fate,--which would almost make us doubt the goodness of providence, if that providence did not afterwards reveal itself by proving that all is but a means of conducting to an end,--one of those caprices deprived him of his mistress, of the future of which he had dreamed (for in his blindness he forgot he could only read the present), and cast him into a dungeon." 
"Ah," said Morrel, "one quits a dungeon in a week, a month, or a year." 
"He remained there fourteen years, Morrel," said the count, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder. Maximilian shuddered. 
"Fourteen years!" he muttered--"Fourteen years!" repeated the count. "During that time he had many moments of despair. He also, Morrel, like you, considered himself the unhappiest of men." 
"Well?" asked Morrel. 
"Well, at the height of his despair God assisted him through human means. At first, perhaps, he did not recognize the infinite mercy of the Lord, but at last he took patience and waited. One day he miraculously left the prison, transformed, rich, powerful. His first cry was for his father; but that father was dead." 
"My father, too, is dead," said Morrel. 
"Yes; but your father died in your arms, happy, respected, rich, and full of years; his father died poor, despairing, almost doubtful of providence; and when his son sought his grave ten years afterwards, his tomb had disappeared, and no one could say, 'There sleeps the father you so well loved.'" 
"Oh!" exclaimed Morrel. 
"He was, then, a more unhappy son than you, Morrel, for he could not even find his father's grave." 
"But then he had the woman he loved still remaining?" 
"You are deceived, Morrel, that woman"-- 
"She was dead?" 
"Worse than that, she was faithless, and had married one of the persecutors of her betrothed. You see, then, Morrel, that he was a more unhappy lover than you." 
"And has he found consolation?" 
"He has at least found peace." 
"And does he ever expect to be happy?" 
"He hopes so, Maximilian." The young man's head fell on his breast. 
"You have my promise," he said, after a minute's pause, extending his hand to Monte Cristo. "Only remember"-- 
"On the 5th of October, Morrel, I shall expect you at the Island of Monte Cristo. On the 4th a yacht will wait for you in the port of Bastia, it will be called the Eurus. You will give your name to the captain, who will bring you to me. It is understood--is it not?" 
"But, count, do you remember that the 5th of October"-- 
"Child," replied the count, "not to know the value of a man's word! I have told you twenty times that if you wish to die on that day, I will assist you. Morrel, farewell!" 
"Do you leave me?" 
"Yes; I have business in Italy. I leave you alone with your misfortunes, and with hope, Maximilian." 
"When do you leave?" 
"Immediately; the steamer waits, and in an hour I shall be far from you. Will you accompany me to the harbor, Maximilian?" 
"I am entirely yours, count." Morrel accompanied the count to the harbor. The white steam was ascending like a plume of feathers from the black chimney. The steamer soon disappeared, and in an hour afterwards, as the count had said, was scarcely distinguishable in the horizon amidst the fogs of the night.  
伯爵心情悲伤地离开那座他和美塞苔丝分手的小屋，或许他永远也见不到她了。自从小爱德华去世以来，基督山的心情发生了大变化。当他经过一条艰苦漫长的道路达到复仇的高峰以后，他在高峰的那一边看到了怀疑的深谷。尤其是，他与美塞苔丝刚才的那一番谈话在他心里唤醒了的许多许多的回忆，他觉得他有必要与那些回忆搏斗。象伯爵这样性格刚毅的人是不会长期沉浸在这种抑郁状态里的。那种抑郁状态或许可以刺激普通的头脑，促使它们产生一些新思想，但对于一个出类拔萃的人是有害的。他想，既然他现在几乎到了责备自己的地步，那么他以前的策划一定有错误了。 
“我不能这样自欺，”他说，“我没有把以前看清楚，为什么！”他继续说，“难道在过去的十年内，我走的道路是错误的吗？难道我预计的竟是一个错误的结果？难道一小时的时间就足以向一位建筑师证明：他那寄托着全部希望的工程，即使不是不可能，至少却是违反上帝旨意的吗？我不能接受这种想法，它会使我发疯的。我现在之所以不满意，是因为我对于往事没有一个清楚的了解。象我们所经过的地方一样，我们走得愈远，它便愈模糊。我的情况象是一个在梦里受伤的人，虽然感觉到受了伤，但却记不得是在什么时候受的伤。那么，来吧，你这个获得再生的人，你这个豪侈的阔佬，你这个醒来的梦游者，你这个万能的幻想家，你这个无敌的百万富翁！再来回忆一下你过去那种饥饿痛苦的生活吧。再去访问一下那逼迫你、或不幸引导你、或绝望接受人的地方吧。在现在这面基督山想认出唐太斯的镜子里，看到的是钻石、黄金和华丽的服饰。藏起你的钻石，埋掉你的黄金，遮住你华丽的服饰，变富为穷，自由人变为罪犯，由一个重生的人变回到尸体上吧！” 
基督山一面这样沉思默想，一面顺着凯塞立街走。二十四年以前，他在夜里被一言不发的宪兵押走的时候，也是走的这条街。那些房子，今天虽充满欢乐富有生气，那天晚上却黑乎乎、静悄悄的，门户紧闭着。”可是，它们还是以前的那些房子，”基督山对自己说，“只是现在不是黑夜而是大白天，是太阳照亮了这个地方，让它看来使人这样高兴。” 
他顺着圣·洛朗街向码头走过去，走到灯塔那儿，这是他登船的地方。一艘装着条纹布篷的游艇正巧经过这里。基督山向船老板招呼了一下，船老板便立刻带着一个船夫和希望做一笔好生意时那种急切的心情向他划拢来。 
天气好极了，正宜于出游。鲜红的、光芒四射的太阳正在向水里沉下去，渐渐被水吞没。海面光滑得象玻璃一样，只是偶尔被一条为了躲避敌人的追捕跳出海面来寻求安全的鱼暂时扰乱了它的宁静；从地平线远望，那些船象海鸥一样白，那样姿态优美，可以看见回到马地古去的渔艇和开赴科西嘉或西班牙的商船。 
但虽然睛朗的天气有美丽的船只，和那笼罩着一切的金色的光芒，紧裹在大氅里的基督山却只想到那次可怕的航程。 
过去的一切都一一在他的记忆里复活了。迦太兰村那盏孤独的灯光；初见伊夫堡猛然觉悟到他们要带他到那儿去时的那种感觉，当他想逃走时与宪兵的那一场挣扎；马枪枪口触到他额头时那种冷冰冰的感觉，——这一切都在他眼前成了生动而可怕的现实。象那些被夏天的炎热所蒸干、但在多雨的秋天又渐渐贮积起流水的小溪一样，伯爵也觉得他的心里渐渐地充满了以前几乎压毁爱德蒙·唐太斯的那种痛苦。他再也看不见那晴朗的天空，那美丽的船只，那沐浴在金色阳光下的迷人的景色：天空中似乎布满乌云，庞大的伊夫堡象是一个死鬼的幽灵。当他们抵岸的时候，伯爵不由自主地退到船尾，船夫不得不用迫切催促的口气说：“先生，我们到岸啦。” 
基督山记得：就在这个地方，就在这块礁石上，他曾被士兵凶暴地拖上去，用刺刀顶着他的腰走上那个斜坡。当初唐太斯眼前漫长的路程；现在基督山却觉得它非常短。每一桨都唤醒了许多记忆，往事象海的泡沫一样浮升了起来。 
自从七月革命以来，伊夫堡里便不再关犯人。这儿现在只住着一队缉私队。一个看守在门口站着，等待引导访客去参观这个恐怖的遗迹。伯爵虽然知道这些事实，但当他走进那个拱形的门廊，走上那座黑洞洞的楼梯，向导应他的要求领他到黑牢里去的时候，他的脸色还是变成了惨白色，他的心里在一阵阵发冷。他问旧时的狱卒还有没有留下来的；但他们不是退休，就是转业去做另外的行当了。带他参观的那个向导是一八三○年来的。向导把他带到了当年他自己的那间黑牢。他又看见了那从那狭窗口透进来的微弱的光线。他又看见了当年放床的那个地方。但那张床早已搬走了，床后的墙脚下有几块新的石头，这是以前法利亚长老所掘的那条地道的出口，基督山感到他的四肢发抖，他拉过一个木凳坐了下来。 
“除了毒死米拉波［米拉波伯爵（一七四九—一七九一），法国大革命时代的政治家，在伊夫堡被他的政敌用毒药毒死。——译注］的故事以外，在这座监狱里还发生过什么故事没有啊？”伯爵问道，“这些阴森可怕的地方竟关押过我们的同类，简直不可思议，关于这些房间可有什么传说吗？” 
“有的，先生，狱卒安多尼对我讲过一个关于这间黑牢的故事。” 
基督山打了一个哆嗦，安多尼就是看管他的狱卒。他几乎已经忘掉他的名和长相了，但一听到他的名字，他便想起了他，——他那满是络腮胡子的脸，棕色的短褂和钥匙串。伯爵似乎现在还能听到那种玎玲当啷的响声，他回过头去，在那条被火把映得更显阴森的地道里，他好象又见到了那个狱卒。 
“您想听那个故事吗，先生？” 
“是的，讲吧。”基督山说，用把手压在胸膛上，按着怦怦直跳的心，他觉得怕听自己的往事。 
“这间黑牢，”向导说，“以前曾住过一个非常可怕的犯人，可怕的是因为他富于心计。当时堡里还关着另外一个人；但那个人并不坏，他只是一个可怜的疯长老。” 
“啊，真的？是疯子吗？”基督山说，“他为什么会疯？” 
“他老是说，谁放他出去，他就给谁几百万块钱。” 
基督山抬头向上望，但看不见天空，在他和苍穹之间，隔着一道石墙。他想，在得到法利亚的宝藏的那些人的眼睛和宝库之间，也有一道厚厚的墙啊。 
“犯人可以互相见面的吗？”他问道。 
“噢，不，先生，这是被明文禁止的，但他们逃过了看守的监视，在两个黑牢之间挖一条地道。” 
“这条地道是谁挖的呢？” 
“噢，那一定是那个年轻人干的，当然罗，他身体强壮，而长老则已年老衰弱。而且，他疯疯癫癫的，决想不出这个办法。” 
“睁眼的瞎子！”伯爵低声说道。 
“但是，不管它吧，那个年轻人挖了一条地道，至于如何挖的，用什么工具挖的，谁都不知道，但他总算是挖成了，那边还有新砌的石头为证明。您看见了吗？” 
“啊，是的，我看见了。”伯爵说，他的声音因激动而变嘶哑了。 
“结果是：两个人相互可以来往了，他们来往了多久，谁都不知道。有一天，那长老生病死了。您猜那年轻人怎么做的？” 
“怎么做的？” 
“他搬走那具尸体，把它放在自己的床上，使它面向墙壁；然后他走进长老的黑牢里，把进口塞住，钻进装尸体的那只布袋里。您想到过这样的计策吗？” 
基督山闭上眼睛，似乎又体验到冰冷的粗布碰到他面孔时的万种感触。那导游继续讲道：“他的计划是这样的：他以为他们是把死人埋在伊夫堡，认为他们不会给犯人买棺材，所以可以用他的肩胛顶开泥土。但不幸的是伊夫堡规定。他们从不埋葬死人，只是给死人脚上绑上一颗很重的铁球，然后把它抛到海里。结果是：那个年轻人从悬岩顶上被抛了下去。第二天，床上发现了长老的尸体，真相大白了，抛尸体的那两个人说出了他们当时曾听到尖声的喊叫，但尸体一沉到水里，那喊声便听不到了。” 
伯爵呼吸困难，大滴的冷汗从他的额头上滚下来，他的心被痛苦填满了。“不，”他喃喃地说道，“我所感到的怀疑动摇只是健忘的结果，现在，伤口又被撕裂开了，心里又渴望着报复了。而那个犯人，”伯爵提高了嗓门说，“此后听到他的消息吗？” 
“噢，没有，当然没有。您知道，下面这两种情形他必定得遭遇一种，——他不是平跌下去便是竖跌下去，如果从五十尺的高度平跌下去，他立刻会摔死，如果竖跌下去，则脚上的铁球就会拉他到海底，他就永远留在那儿了，可怜的人！” 
“那么你怜悯他吗？”伯爵说。 
“我当然怜悯他，虽然他也是自作孽。” 
“你是什么意思？” 
“据说他本来是一个海军军官，因为参加拿破仑党才坐牢的。” 
“的确！”伯爵重又自言自语道，“你是死里逃生的！那可怜的水手只活在讲述他故事的那些人记忆里。他那可怕的经历被人当作故事在屋角里传述着，当向导讲到他从空中被大海吞噬的时候，便使人颤栗发抖。”随后伯爵提高了声音又说，“你可知道他的名字吗？” 
“噢，只知道是三十四号。” 
“噢，维尔福，维尔福！”伯爵轻轻地说，“当你无法入眠的时候，我的灵魂一定常常使你想到这件事情！” 
“您还想看什么吗，先生？”向导说。 
“是的，如果你可以领我去看一下那可怜的长老房间的话。” 
“啊！二十七号。” 
“是的，二十七号。”伯爵复述一遍向导的话，他似乎听到长老的声音隔着墙壁在说。 
“来，先生。” 
“等一等，”基督山说，“我想再看一看这个房间。” 
“好的，”向导说，“我碰巧忘了带这个房间的钥匙。” 
“再回去拿吧。” 
“我把火把留给您，先生。” 
“不，带走吧，我能够在黑暗里看东西。” 
“咦，您就象那三十四号一样。他们说，他是那样习惯于黑暗，竟能在他的黑牢最黑暗的角落里看出一枚针。” 
“他需要十年时间才能练就那种功夫。”伯爵心里这样自语。 
向导拿着火把走了，伯爵说得很对。在几秒钟以后，他对一切都看得象在白天看时一样的清晰。他向四周看看，完全看清了他曾呆过的黑牢。 
“是的，”他说，“那是我常坐的石头，那墙上是我的肩膀留下的印记，那是我以头撞壁时所留下的痕迹。噢，那些数字！我记得清楚呀！这是我有一天用它来计算我父亲和美塞苔丝的年龄的，想知道当我出去的时候，父亲是否还活着，美塞苔丝是不是依然年轻，那次计算以后，我曾有过短暂的希望。我却没有计算到饥饿和背叛！”于是伯爵发出一声苦笑。 
他在幻想中看到了他父亲的丧事和美塞苔丝的婚礼。在黑牢的另一面墙上，他看出一片刻划的痕迹，绿色的墙上依旧还可以看出那些白字。那些字是这样的，“噢，上帝呀，”他念道，“保留我的记忆吧！” 
“噢，是的！”他喊道，“那是我临终时的祈祷，我那时不再祈求自由，而祈求记忆。我怕自己会发疯，忘了一切。噢，上帝呀，您保全了我的记忆！我感谢您！我感谢您！” 
这当儿，墙上映出火把的光，向导走过来了。基督山向他迎上去。 
“跟我来，先生。”向导说，他不上楼梯，领着伯爵从一条地道走到另一间黑牢的门口。到了那儿，另一些纪念又冲到伯爵脑子里。他的眼睛首先看到的是长老画在墙上、用来计算时间的子午线，然后他又看到那可怜的长老死时所躺的那张破床。这些东西不但没有激起伯爵在他自己的牢里的那种悲哀，反而使他的心里充满了一种柔和的感激的心情，他的眼睛里禁不注流下泪来。 
“疯长老就曾关在那儿的，先生，这是那年轻人进来的地方，”向导指着那仍未填塞的洞口。“根据那块石头的外表，” 
他继续说，“一位有学问的专家考证出那两个犯人大概已经互相往来了十年。可怜的人！那十年时间一定很难过的。” 
唐太斯从口袋里摸出几块金路易，交给那个虽不认识他但却已两次对他表示同情的向导。向导接过来，心里以为那只几块银币，但火把的火使他看清了它们的真实价值。“先生，”他说，“您弄错啦，您给我的是金洋。” 
“我知道。” 
向导吃惊地望着伯爵。“先生，”他喊道，简直无法相信他的好运，“您的慷慨我无法理解！” 
“噢，非常简单，我的好人，我也曾当过水手，你的故事在我听来比别人更感动。” 
“那么，先生，既然您这样慷慨，我也应该送你一样东西。” 
“你有什么东西送给我，我的朋友？贝壳吗？麦杆纺织的东西吗？谢谢你！” 
“不，先生。不是那些，——是一样和这个故事有关的东西。” 
“真的？”伯爵急切地问道，“是什么？” 
“听我说，”向导说，“我想，‘在一个犯人住了十五年的牢房里，总是留有一些东西的。’所以我就开始敲墙壁。” 
“呀！”基督山喊道，想起了长老藏东西的那两个地方。 
“找了一些时候以后，我发觉床头和壁炉底下听来象是空的。” 
“是的，”伯爵说，“是的。” 
“我翻开石板，找到了——” 
“一条绳梯和一些工具？” 
“您怎么知道的？”向导惊奇地问道。 
“我并不知道，我只是这样猜测，因为牢房里所发现的大多是那一类的东西。” 
“是的，先生，是一条绳梯和一些工具。” 
“你还留着吗？” 
“不，先生，我把它卖给游客了，他们认为那是件很稀奇的东西，但我还留着一件东西。” 
“是什么？”伯爵着急地问。 
“象是一本书，写在布条子上的。” 
“去把它拿来，我的好人，可能那是我感兴趣的东西，你放心好了。” 
“我这就去拿，先生。”那向导出去了。 
伯爵于是在那张死神使它变成了一座祭台的床前跪下来。“噢，我的再生之父呀！”他叹道，“您给了我自由、知识和财富，您，象天上的神一样，能分辨善恶，——如果死人和那些活人之间还能互相沟通的话，如果人死后的灵魂还能重访我们曾经生活和受苦的地方——那么，高贵的心呀！崇高的灵魂呀！那么，我求求您，为着您给我的父爱，为着我对您的服从，赐我一些征兆，赐我一些启示吧！除去我心中剩余的怀疑吧，那种怀疑如果不变成满足，也会变成悔恨的。” 
伯爵低下头，两手合在一起。 
“拿来了，先生。”背后传来向导的声音。 
基督山打了一个寒颤，站起身来。向导递给他一卷布片，那些布片是法利亚长老的知识宝藏，这是法利亚长老论建立意太利统一王国的那篇文章的原稿。伯爵急忙拿过来，他的眼光落到题铭上，他读道，“主说：‘你将拔掉龙的牙齿，将狮子踩在你的脚下。’” 
“啊！”他喊道，“这就是回答。谢谢您，我的父亲，谢谢您！”他伸手从口袋里摸出一只夹着十张一千法郎钞票的小皮夹。“喏，”他说，“这个皮夹送给你。” 
“送给我？” 
“是的，但有一个条件：你得等我走了以后才能打开来看，”于是，把他刚才找到的那卷布条藏在怀里——在他看来，它比最值钱的珠宝还更珍贵——他跑出地道，跳上船，喊道：“回马赛！”然后，他回头用眼睛盯住那座阴森森的牢狱。“该死，”他喊道，“那些关我到那座痛苦的监狱里去的人！该死，那些忘记我曾在那里的人！” 
当他经过迦太兰村的时候，伯爵把头埋在大衣里，轻声呼唤一个女人的名字。他两次消除了疑虑。他用一种温柔的几乎近于爱恋的声音所呼唤的那个名字，是海黛。 
上岸以后，伯爵向坟地走去，他相信在那儿一定可以找到莫雷尔。十年以前，他也曾虔敬地去找一座坟墓，但他枉费了一番心思。他带着千百万钱财回法国来的他，却没找到他那饿死的父亲的坟墓。老莫雷尔的确在那个地方插过一个十字架，但十字架早已倒了，掘坟的人已经把它烧毁，象他们的坟场里所有腐朽的木头十字架一样。而那可敬的商人就比较幸运了。他是在他儿女的怀抱里去世的；他们把他埋在先他两年逝世的妻子身边。两块大理石上分别刻着他们的名字，竖在一片小坟地的两边，四周围着栏杆，种着四棵柏树。 
莫雷尔正靠在一棵柏树上，两眼直盯着坟墓。他悲痛欲绝，几乎失去了知觉。 
“马西米兰，”伯爵说，“你不应该看坟墓，而应该看那儿。”他以手指天。 
“死者是无所不在的，”莫雷尔说，“我们离开巴黎的时候，你是这样告诉过我吗？” 
“马西米兰，”伯爵说，“你在途中要求我让你在马赛住几天。你现在还这样想吗？ 
“我什么都不想，伯爵，我只是想，我在这里可以比别处少一点儿痛苦。 
“那也好，因为我必须得离开你了，但我还带着你的诺言呢，是不是？” 
“啊，伯爵，我会忘了它的。” 
“不，你不会忘记的，你要莫雷尔，因为你是一个讲信用的人，因为你曾经发过誓，而且你要重发一遍誓。” 
“噢，伯爵，可怜可怜我吧！我是这样不幸。” 
“我知道有一个人比你更不幸，莫雷尔。” 
“不可能的！” 
“唉！”基督山说，“这是我们人类的可怜的骄傲，每一个人都以为他自己比那在他身旁哭泣呻吟的人更痛苦。” 
“一个人丧失了他在世界上一切所爱所希望的东西，谁还会比他更痛苦？” 
“听着，莫雷尔，注意听。我认识一个人，他也象你一样，曾把他全部幸福的希望寄托在一个女人身上。他很年轻，有一个他所爱的老父，一个他的所恋慕的未婚妻。他们快要结婚了，但那时，命中一场使我们几乎要怀疑上帝公正的波折，夺去了他的爱人，夺去了他所梦想的未来，他被关了一间黑牢里。” 
“啊！”莫雷尔说，：黑牢里的人迟早是可以出来的。” 
“他在那儿住了十四年，莫雷尔。”伯爵把手放在那青年的肩头上说。 
马西米兰打了一个寒颤。“十四年？”他自言自语地说。 
“十四年！”伯爵重复说，“在那个期间，他有过许多绝望的时候。也象你一样，认为自己是最不幸的人，想要自杀。” 
“是吗？”莫雷尔问道。 
“是的，在他绝望到顶点的时候，上帝显灵了，——因为上帝已不再创造奇迹了。在一开始，他大概并没有在那个人身上显示出无穷的仁慈，因为蒙着泪水的眼睛看不清东西，最后，他接受了忍耐和等待。有一天，他神奇地离开了那座死牢，变成为有钱有势的人。他首先去找他的父亲，但他的父亲已经死了。” 
“我的父亲也死了。”莫雷尔说。 
“是的，但你的父亲是在你的怀抱里去世的，他有钱，受人尊敬，享受过快乐，享足了天年。他的父亲却死在穷苦、绝望、怀疑之中。当他的儿子在十年以后来找他的坟墓时候，他的坟墓无法辩认了，没有一个人能说，那儿躺着你深爱的父亲！” 
“上帝啊！”莫雷尔叹道。 
“所以他是一个比你更不幸的人，莫雷尔，因为他甚至连他父亲的坟墓都找不到了！” 
“但他至少还有他所爱的那个女人。” 
“你错了，莫雷尔，那个女人——” 
“她死了吗？” 
“比那更糟——她忘情负义，嫁给一个迫害她未婚夫的人了。所以，你看，莫雷尔，他是一个比你更不幸的情人。” 
“他得到上帝的安慰了吗？” 
“上帝至少给了他安宁。” 
“他还希望再得到快乐吗？” 
“他一直在追求着马西米兰。” 
年轻人把头垂到他的胸前。“你牢记我的诺言吧，”他沉思了一下，把手伸向基督山说，“只是记得——” 
“十月五日，莫雷尔，我在基督山岛上等你。在四日那天，一艘游艇会在巴斯蒂亚港等你，船名叫欧罗斯号。你把你的名字告诉船长，他就会带你来见我了。就这样约定了，是不是？” 
“说定了，伯爵，我会照你的话做的，但你记得住十月五日——” 
“孩子！”伯爵答道，“你不知道一个男子汉的承诺意味着什么！我对你讲过二十遍啦，假如你想在那一天死，我可以帮你的忙。莫雷尔，再见了！” 
“你要离开我了吗？” 
“是的，我在意大利有事情要办。我让你自己在这儿和不幸奋斗，独自和上帝派来迎他的选民的神鹰搏斗。甘密蒂的故事［希腊神话：甘密蒂是弗烈琪亚地方一个美丽而孤苦伶仃的牧羊童子，有一天，宇宙大神经过，看出他是一个可造之材，便激太阳神化为神鹰，飞到牧场上，把它抓到奥林匹斯山，叫他充当众神的司酒童子。——译注］不是一个神话，马西米兰，它是一个比喻。” 
“你什么时候走？” 
“立刻就走，汽船已经在那儿等着了，一个钟头以后，我就离开你很远啦。你可以陪我到港口去吗，马西米兰？” 
“我悉听你的吩咐，伯爵。” 
莫雷尔把伯爵送到港口，黑色的烟囱里已经冒出象鹅绒似的白色水蒸气。汽船不久就开航了，一小时后，正如伯爵所说的，烟囱里冒出的白烟消失在地平线上，与夜雾融在一起，分辩不清。
Chapter 114 Peppino
 AT THE same time that the steamer disappeared behind Cape Morgion, a man travelling post on the road from Florence to Rome had just passed the little town of Aquapendente. He was travelling fast enough to cover a great deal of ground without exciting suspicion. This man was dressed in a greatcoat, or rather a surtout, a little worse for the journey, but which exhibited the ribbon of the Legion of Honor still fresh and brilliant, a decoration which also ornamented the under coat. He might be recognized, not only by these signs, but also from the accent with which he spoke to the postilion, as a Frenchman. Another proof that he was a native of the universal country was apparent in the fact of his knowing no other Italian words than the terms used in music, and which like the "goddam" of Figaro, served all possible linguistic requirements. 
"Allegro!" he called out to the postilions at every ascent. "Moderato!" he cried as they descended. And heaven knows there are hills enough between Rome and Florence by the way of Aquapendente! These two words greatly amused the men to whom they were addressed. On reaching La Storta, the point from whence Rome is first visible, the traveller evinced none of the enthusiastic curiosity which usually leads strangers to stand up and endeavor to catch sight of the dome of St. Peter's, which may be seen long before any other object is distinguishable. No, he merely drew a pocketbook from his pocket, and took from it a paper folded in four, and after having examined it in a manner almost reverential, he said--"Good! I have it still!" 
The carriage entered by the Porto del Popolo, turned to the left, and stopped at the H?tel d'Espagne. Old Pastrini, our former acquaintance, received the traveller at the door, hat in hand. The traveller alighted, ordered a good dinner, and inquired the address of the house of Thomson & French, which was immediately given to him, as it was one of the most celebrated in Rome. It was situated in the Via dei Banchi, near St. Peter's. In Rome, as everywhere else, the arrival of a post-chaise is an event. Ten young descendants of Marius and the Gracchi, barefooted and out at elbows, with one hand resting on the hip and the other gracefully curved above the head, stared at the traveller, the post-chaise, and the horses; to these were added about fifty little vagabonds from the Papal States, who earned a pittance by diving into the Tiber at high water from the bridge of St. Angelo. Now, as these street Arabs of Rome, more fortunate than those of Paris, understand every language, more especially the French, they heard the traveller order an apartment, a dinner, and finally inquire the way to the house of Thomson & French. The result was that when the new-comer left the hotel with the cicerone, a man detached himself from the rest of the idlers, and without having been seen by the traveller, and appearing to excite no attention from the guide, followed the stranger with as much skill as a Parisian police agent would have used. 
The Frenchman had been so impatient to reach the house of Thomson & French that he would not wait for the horses to be harnessed, but left word for the carriage to overtake him on the road, or to wait for him at the bankers' door. He reached it before the carriage arrived. The Frenchman entered, leaving in the anteroom his guide, who immediately entered into conversation with two or three of the industrious idlers who are always to be found in Rome at the doors of banking-houses, churches, museums, or theatres. With the Frenchman, the man who had followed him entered too; the Frenchman knocked at the inner door, and entered the first room; his shadow did the same. 
"Messrs. Thomson & French?" inquired the stranger. 
An attendant arose at a sign from a confidential clerk at the first desk. "Whom shall I announce?" said the attendant. 
"Baron Danglars." 
"Follow me," said the man. A door opened, through which the attendant and the baron disappeared. The man who had followed Danglars sat down on a bench. The clerk continued to write for the next five minutes; the man preserved profound silence, and remained perfectly motionless. Then the pen of the clerk ceased to move over the paper; he raised his head, and appearing to be perfectly sure of privacy,--"Ah, ha," he said, "here you are, Peppino!" 
"Yes," was the laconic reply. "You have found out that there is something worth having about this large gentleman?" 
"There is no great merit due to me, for we were informed of it." 
"You know his business here, then." 
"Pardieu! he has come to draw, but I don't know how much!" 
"You will know presently, my friend." 
"Very well, only do not give me false information as you did the other day." 
"What do you mean?--of whom do you speak? Was it the Englishman who carried off 3,000 crowns from here the other day?" 
"No; he really had 3,000 crowns, and we found them. I mean the Russian prince, who you said had 30,000 livres, and we only found 22,000." 
"You must have searched badly." 
"Luigi Vampa himself searched." 
"Indeed? But you must let me make my observations, or the Frenchman will transact his business without my knowing the sum." Peppino nodded, and taking a rosary from his pocket began to mutter a few prayers while the clerk disappeared through the same door by which Danglars and the attendant had gone out. At the expiration of ten minutes the clerk returned with a beaming countenance. "Well?" asked Peppino of his friend. 
"Joy, joy--the sum is large!" 
"Five or six millions, is it not?" 
"Yes, you know the amount." 
"On the receipt of the Count of Monte Cristo?" 
"Why, how came you to be so well acquainted with all this?" 
"I told you we were informed beforehand." 
"Then why do you apply to me?" 
"That I may be sure I have the right man." 
"Yes, it is indeed he. Five millions--a pretty sum, eh, Peppino?" 
"Hush--here is our man!" The clerk seized his pen, and Peppino his beads; one was writing and the other praying when the door opened. Danglars looked radiant with joy; the banker accompanied him to the door. Peppino followed Danglars. 
According to the arrangements, the carriage was waiting at the door. The guide held the door open. Guides are useful people, who will turn their hands to anything. Danglars leaped into the carriage like a young man of twenty. The cicerone reclosed the door, and sprang up by the side of the coachman. Peppino mounted the seat behind. 
"Will your excellency visit St. Peter's?" asked the cicerone. 
"I did not come to Rome to see," said Danglars aloud; then he added softly, with an avaricious smile, "I came to touch!" and he rapped his pocket-book, in which he had just placed a letter. 
"Then your excellency is going"-- 
"To the hotel." 
"Casa Pastrini!" said the cicerone to the coachman, and the carriage drove rapidly on. Ten minutes afterwards the baron entered his apartment, and Peppino stationed himself on the bench outside the door of the hotel, after having whispered something in the ear of one of the descendants of Marius and the Gracchi whom we noticed at the beginning of the chapter, who immediately ran down the road leading to the Capitol at his fullest speed. Danglars was tired and sleepy; he therefore went to bed, placing his pocketbook under his pillow. Peppino had a little spare time, so he had a game of mora with the facchini, lost three crowns, and then to console himself drank a bottle of Orvieto. 
The next morning Danglars awoke late, though he went to bed so early; he had not slept well for five or six nights, even if he had slept at all. He breakfasted heartily, and caring little, as he said, for the beauties of the Eternal City, ordered post-horses at noon. But Danglars had not reckoned upon the formalities of the police and the idleness of the posting-master. The horses only arrived at two o'clock, and the cicerone did not bring the passport till three. All these preparations had collected a number of idlers round the door of Signor Pastrini's; the descendants of Marius and the Gracchi were also not wanting. The baron walked triumphantly through the crowd, who for the sake of gain styled him "your excellency." As Danglars had hitherto contented himself with being called a baron, he felt rather flattered at the title of excellency, and distributed a dozen silver coins among the beggars, who were ready, for twelve more, to call him "your highness." 
"Which road?" asked the postilion in Italian. "The Ancona road," replied the baron. Signor Pastrini interpreted the question and answer, and the horses galloped off. Danglars intended travelling to Venice, where he would receive one part of his fortune, and then proceeding to Vienna, where he would find the rest, he meant to take up his residence in the latter town, which he had been told was a city of pleasure. 
He had scarcely advanced three leagues out of Rome when daylight began to disappear. Danglars had not intended starting so late, or he would have remained; he put his head out and asked the postilion how long it would be before they reached the next town. 
"Non capisco" (do not understand), was the reply. 
Danglars bent his head, which he meant to imply, "Very well." 
The carriage again moved on. 
"I will stop at the first posting-house," said Danglars to himself. 
He still felt the same self-satisfaction which he had experienced the previous evening, and which had procured him so good a night's rest. He was luxuriously stretched in a good English calash, with double springs; he was drawn by four good horses, at full gallop; he knew the relay to be at a distance of seven leagues. What subject of meditation could present itself to the banker, so fortunately become bankrupt? 
Danglars thought for ten minutes about his wife in Paris; another ten minutes about his daughter travelling with Mademoiselle d'Armilly; the same period was given to his creditors, and the manner in which he intended spending their money; and then, having no subject left for contemplation, he shut his eyes, and fell asleep. Now and then a jolt more violent than the rest caused him to open his eyes; then he felt that he was still being carried with great rapidity over the same country, thickly strewn with broken aqueducts, which looked like granite giants petrified while running a race. But the night was cold, dull, and rainy, and it was much more pleasant for a traveller to remain in the warm carriage than to put his head out of the window to make inquiries of a postilion whose only answer was "Non capisco." 
Danglars therefore continued to sleep, saying to himself that he would be sure to awake at the posting-house. The carriage stopped. Danglars fancied that they had reached the long-desired point; he opened his eyes and looked through the window, expecting to find himself in the midst of some town, or at least village; but he saw nothing except what seemed like a ruin, where three or four men went and came like shadows. Danglars waited a moment, expecting the postilion to come and demand payment with the termination of his stage. He intended taking advantage of the opportunity to make fresh inquiries of the new conductor; but the horses were unharnessed, and others put in their places, without any one claiming money from the traveller. Danglars, astonished, opened the door; but a strong hand pushed him back, and the carriage rolled on. The baron was completely roused. "Eh?" he said to the postilion, "eh, mio caro?" 
This was another little piece of Italian the baron had learned from hearing his daughter sing Italian duets with Cavalcanti. But mio caro did not reply. Danglars then opened the window. 
"Come, my friend," he said, thrusting his hand through the opening, "where are we going?" 
"Dentro la testa!" answered a solemn and imperious voice, accompanied by a menacing gesture. Danglars thought dentro la testa meant, "Put in your head!" He was making rapid progress in Italian. He obeyed, not without some uneasiness, which, momentarily increasing, caused his mind, instead of being as unoccupied as it was when he began his journey, to fill with ideas which were very likely to keep a traveller awake, more especially one in such a situation as Danglars. His eyes acquired that quality which in the first moment of strong emotion enables them to see distinctly, and which afterwards fails from being too much taxed. Before we are alarmed, we see correctly; when we are alarmed, we see double; and when we have been alarmed, we see nothing but trouble. Danglars observed a man in a cloak galloping at the right hand of the carriage. 
"Some gendarme!" he exclaimed. "Can I have been intercepted by French telegrams to the pontifical authorities?" He resolved to end his anxiety. "Where are you taking me?" he asked. "Dentro la testa," replied the same voice, with the same menacing accent. 
Danglars turned to the left; another man on horseback was galloping on that side. "Decidedly," said Danglars, with the perspiration on his forehead, "I must be under arrest." And he threw himself back in the calash, not this time to sleep, but to think. Directly afterwards the moon rose. He then saw the great aqueducts, those stone phantoms which he had before remarked, only then they were on the right hand, now they were on the left. He understood that they had described a circle, and were bringing him back to Rome. "Oh, unfortunate!" he cried, "they must have obtained my arrest." The carriage continued to roll on with frightful speed. An hour of terror elapsed, for every spot they passed showed that they were on the road back. At length he saw a dark mass, against which it seemed as if the carriage was about to dash; but the vehicle turned to one side, leaving the barrier behind and Danglars saw that it was one of the ramparts encircling Rome. 
"Mon dieu!" cried Danglars, "we are not returning to Rome; then it is not justice which is pursuing me! Gracious heavens; another idea presents itself--what if they should be"-- 
His hair stood on end. He remembered those interesting stories, so little believed in Paris, respecting Roman bandits; he remembered the adventures that Albert de Morcerf had related when it was intended that he should marry Mademoiselle Eugénie. "They are robbers, perhaps," he muttered. Just then the carriage rolled on something harder than gravel road. Danglars hazarded a look on both sides of the road, and perceived monuments of a singular form, and his mind now recalled all the details Morcerf had related, and comparing them with his own situation, he felt sure that he must be on the Appian Way. On the left, in a sort of valley, he perceived a circular excavation. It was Caracalla's circus. On a word from the man who rode at the side of the carriage, it stopped. At the same time the door was opened. 
"Scendi!" exclaimed a commanding voice. Danglars instantly descended; although he did not yet speak Italian, he understood it very well. More dead than alive, he looked around him. Four men surrounded him, besides the postilion. 
"Di quà," said one of the men, descending a little path leading out of the Appian Way. Danglars followed his guide without opposition, and had no occasion to turn around to see whether the three others were following him. Still it appeared as though they were stationed at equal distances from one another, like sentinels. After walking for about ten minutes, during which Danglars did not exchange a single word with his guide, he found himself between a hillock and a clump of high weeds; three men, standing silent, formed a triangle, of which he was the centre. He wished to speak, but his tongue refused to move. 
"Avanti!" said the same sharp and imperative voice. 
This time Danglars had double reason to understand, for if the word and gesture had not explained the speaker's meaning, it was clearly expressed by the man walking behind him, who pushed him so rudely that he struck against the guide. This guide was our friend Peppino, who dashed into the thicket of high weeds, through a path which none but lizards or polecats could have imagined to be an open road. Peppino stopped before a pit overhung by thick hedges; the pit, half open, afforded a passage to the young man, who disappeared like the evil spirits in the fairy tales. The voice and gesture of the man who followed Danglars ordered him to do the same. There was no longer any doubt, the bankrupt was in the hands of Roman banditti. Danglars acquitted himself like a man placed between two dangerous positions, and who is rendered brave by fear. Notwithstanding his large stomach, certainly not intended to penetrate the fissures of the Campagna, he slid down like Peppino, and closing his eyes fell upon his feet. As he touched the ground, he opened his eyes. The path was wide, but dark. Peppino, who cared little for being recognized now that he was in his own territories, struck a light and lit a torch. Two other men descended after Danglars forming the rearguard, and pushing Danglars whenever he happened to stop, they came by a gentle declivity to the intersection of two corridors. The walls were hollowed out in sepulchres, one above the other, and which seemed in contrast with the white stones to open their large dark eyes, like those which we see on the faces of the dead. A sentinel struck the rings of his carbine against his left hand. "Who comes there?" he cried. 
"A friend, a friend!" said Peppino; "but where is the captain?" 
"There," said the sentinel, pointing over his shoulder to a spacious crypt, hollowed out of the rock, the lights from which shone into the passage through the large arched openings. "Fine spoil, captain, fine spoil!" said Peppino in Italian, and taking Danglars by the collar of his coat he dragged him to an opening resembling a door, through which they entered the apartment which the captain appeared to have made his dwelling-place. 
"Is this the man?" asked the captain, who was attentively reading Plutarch's Life of Alexander. 
"Himself, captain--himself." 
"Very well, show him to me." At this rather impertinent order, Peppino raised his torch to the face of Danglars, who hastily withdrew that he might not have his eyelashes burnt. His agitated features presented the appearance of pale and hideous terror. "The man is tired," said the captain, "conduct him to his bed." 
"Oh," murmured Danglars," that bed is probably one of the coffins hollowed in the wall, and the sleep I shall enjoy will be death from one of the poniards I see glistening in the darkness." 
From their beds of dried leaves or wolf-skins at the back of the chamber now arose the companions of the man who had been found by Albert de Morcerf reading C?sar's Commentaries, and by Danglars studying the Life of Alexander. The banker uttered a groan and followed his guide; he neither supplicated nor exclaimed. He no longer possessed strength, will, power, or feeling; he followed where they led him. At length he found himself at the foot of a staircase, and he mechanically lifted his foot five or six times. Then a low door was opened before him, and bending his head to avoid striking his forehead he entered a small room cut out of the rock. The cell was clean, though empty, and dry, though situated at an immeasurable distance under the earth. A bed of dried grass covered with goat-skins was placed in one corner. Danglars brightened up on beholding it, fancying that it gave some promise of safety. "Oh, God be praised," he said; "it is a real bed!" 
"Ecco!" said the guide, and pushing Danglars into the cell, he closed the door upon him. 
A bolt grated and Danglars was a prisoner. If there had been no bolt, it would have been impossible for him to pass through the midst of the garrison who held the catacombs of St. Sebastian, encamped round a master whom our readers must have recognized as the famous Luigi Vampa. Danglars, too, had recognized the bandit, whose existence he would not believe when Albert de Morcerf mentioned him in Paris; and not only did he recognize him, but the cell in which Albert had been confined, and which was probably kept for the accommodation of strangers. These recollections were dwelt upon with some pleasure by Danglars, and restored him to some degree of tranquillity. Since the bandits had not despatched him at once, he felt that they would not kill him at all. They had arrested him for the purpose of robbery, and as he had only a few louis about him, he doubted not he would be ransomed. He remembered that Morcerf had been taxed at 4,000 crowns, and as he considered himself of much greater importance than Morcerf he fixed his own price at 8,000 crowns. Eight thousand crowns amounted to 48,000 livres; he would then have about 5,050,000 francs left. With this sum he could manage to keep out of difficulties. Therefore, tolerably secure in being able to extricate himself from his position, provided he were not rated at the unreasonable sum of 5,050,000 francs, he stretched himself on his bed, and after turning over two or three times, fell asleep with the tranquillity of the hero whose life Luigi Vampa was studying.  
在那艘汽船消失在摩琴岬后面的同时，一个人乘着驿车从佛罗伦萨赶往罗马的人，经过阿瓜本特小镇。他的驿车赶得相当快，但还没有快到会令人发生怀疑的程度。这人穿着一件外套，确切地说，是一件紧身长外套，穿了这种衣服旅行是不十分舒服的，但它却把鲜明灿烂的荣誉团军官的缎带显示出来，他外套下面的上装上佩着一枚勋章，这两个标志以及他对车夫讲话时的口音都可以看出他是一个法国人。另外还有一点可以证明他是来自这个世界语言［这时指法语当时流行于欧洲各国。——译注］的国家的，就是，他只知道乐谱上用作术语的那几个意大利字，象费加罗老说“ｇｏｄｄａｍ”［法国最流行的外国字之一；十五世纪时，法国人叫英国人为ｇｏｄｄａｍ。——译注］一样，这些字能代替特殊语言的一切奥妙。 
当马车上坡的时候，他就对车夫大喊“Ａｌｌｅｇｒｏ”［意大利语，音乐术语：“急调，加快！”——译注］当他下坡的时候，他就喊“Ｍｏｄｅｒａｔｏ！”［意大利语，音乐术语：“不疾不徐，稍慢！”——译注］凡是走过那条路的人，都知道佛罗伦萨经阿瓜本特到罗马，途中有许多的上坡和下坡！这两个字使听话的人感到极其有趣。车到勒斯多塔，罗马业已在望，一般旅客到这里总会表露出强烈的好奇心，站起来去看那最先闯入眼帘的圣·彼得教堂的圆顶，但这位旅客却没有这种好奇心。他只是从口袋里摸出一只皮夹，从皮夹里抽出一张折成两叠的纸片，用一种恭敬的态度把它察看了一遍以后，说：“好！它还在我身边呢。” 
马车从波波罗门进城。向左转，在爱斯巴旅馆门口停下来。我们的老相识派里尼老板恭恭敬敬地在门口迎接那位旅客。那位旅客下车，吩咐给他预备一顿丰盛的午餐，然后便打听汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的地址。当然一问就知道了，因为汤姆生·弗伦奇银行是罗马最有名的银行之一，它就在圣·彼得教堂附近的银行街上。罗马，象在其他各地一样，来一辆驿车是一件大事。十几个年轻的闲汉，示脚露肘，一手叉腰，一手有模有样地放到后脑勺上，凝视着那旅客、驿车和马；此外还有五十个左右游手好闲的二流子，他们是从教皇统治下的各省来的，因为教皇重征人头税，要从圣·安琪罗桥抽水灌入梯伯河［梯伯河经意大利中部诸省，该河比海平面高出二百四十四尺。——译注］，所以无力纳税的人民只能让他们的孩子流浪出来乞讨为生。但罗马的闲汉和流民比巴黎的幸运，他们懂得各国语言，尤其是法语，他们听到那旅客吩咐要一个房间，一顿午餐，后来又打听汤姆生·弗伦奇银行的地址。结果是：当那位客带着一个向导离开旅馆的时候，一个闲汉离开他的同伴，象巴黎警局的密探那样巧妙地跟着那旅客，未被那旅客发现，也未被向导注意。 
那个法国人是急于要到汤姆生·弗伦奇银行去，以致他也不等驾马，只是留话给车夫，叫车夫驾好马以后追上来，或到银行门口去等他。他比马车先到银行。那法国人走进银行把向导留在外厅里，向导便立刻和两三个职业闲汉拉起话来。 
在罗马的银行、教堂、废墟、博物馆和剧院门口，总是有这些职业闲汉在那儿的，跟踪法国人的那个家伙也走进银行。那法国人敲一敲内门，走进第一个房间，跟踪他的闲汉也这样做。 
“经理先生在吗？”那旅客问道。 
坐在第一张写字台前的一个重要职员打了一个手势，一个仆役便站起身来。“您是哪一位？”那仆役问。 
“腾格拉尔男爵。” 
“请跟我来！”那个人说。 
一扇门开了，那仆役和男爵都消失到门里面。那个跟腾格拉尔来的人在一条长凳上坐下来。以后的五分钟内，那职员继续写字，凳子上的那个人也保持着沉默，一动不动地坐在那儿。然后，当那职员停笔的时候，他抬起头来，向四下看一看，确定房间里只有两个人，便说：“啊，啊！你来啦，庇皮诺！” 
“是的。”回答很简单。 
“你认为这个人有值得探听的事情吗？” 
“我没有多少事情要打听，因为我们已经得到情报了。” 
“那么你知道他到这儿干什么来的罗？” 
“当然，他是来提款的，但我不知道数目。” 
“你不久就可以知道的了，我的朋友。” 
“好极了，你大概还是象前次那样，给我错误的消息。” 
“你是什么意思？你指哪一个人？是不久以前从这儿拿走三万艾居的那个英国人吗？” 
“不，他真的有三万艾居，我们找到了。我是指那个俄国王子，你说他有三万里弗，而我们却只找到两万四千。” 
“你一定搜得不仔细。” 
“是罗吉·万帕亲自搜查的。” 
“如果那样，他大概是还了债——” 
“一个俄国人还肯还债！” 
“——不然就是花掉了一部分。” 
“那倒是可能的。” 
“一定是的，你必须让我去听一听，不然，那个法国人在我还知道数目以前就要办完手续了。” 
庇皮诺点点头，从他的口袋里拿出一串念珠来，开始低声地祈祷，而那职员则走进了腾格拉尔和仆役进去的那间房子十分钟以后，那职员满面光彩地回来了。 
“怎么样？”庇皮诺问他的朋友。 
“小心，小心！数目很大。” 
“五六百万，是不是？” 
“是的，你知道那数目了吗？” 
“记在基督山伯爵大人的账上？” 
“你认识伯爵吗？” 
“那笔钱，他们给他开立户头，任他在罗马、威尼斯和维也纳提取？” 
“正是如此！”那职员喊道，“你怎么打听得这样清楚呢？” 
“我告诉过你，我们是事先就得到情报了。” 
“那么你为什么要来问我呢？” 
“我要确定我有没有认错了人。” 
“是的，的确是他！五百万，——一笔很可观的数目，是吗，庇皮诺？” 
“是的。” 
“嘘！我们的人来啦！” 
那职员抓起他的笔，庇皮诺抓起他的念珠。门开的时候，一个在写字，一个在祈祷。腾格拉尔满面喜色，银行经理一直陪他到门口。庇皮诺跟着腾格拉尔出去。约定马车等在门口。导游拉开车门，他们很能干，什么事情可以派到他的用场。腾格拉尔跳进车子。动作轻捷得象个小伙子，导游关上车门，跳上去坐在车夫旁边。庇皮诺跳上车坐在车厢外的后座上。 
“大人是要到圣·彼得教堂去吗？”导游问道。 
“去做什么呀？” 
“当然是去观光啦！” 
“我不是到罗马来观光的，”腾格拉尔大声说，然后，他又带着一个贪婪的微笑轻轻地说，“我是来取钱的！”于是他拍一拍他的皮夹，皮夹里刚才已装进一份信用卡。 
“那么大人是到——” 
“到旅馆去。” 
“到派时尼旅馆去！”导游对车夫说，马车疾驶而去。十分钟后，男爵回到他的房间，庇皮诺则在旅馆门外的长凳上坐下来，他与本章开始时提及的那些闲汉中的一个，咬耳说了几句话，那个闲汉便立刻顺着通到朱庇特殿的那条路飞一般地跑去。腾格拉尔觉得疲乏而满足，睡意很浓，他上了床，把他的皮夹塞在枕头底下。庇皮诺闲得无事，便和闲汉们玩骰子，输了三个艾居，为了安慰自己，喝了一瓶奥维多酒。 
腾格拉尔虽然睡得很早，但第二天早晨却醒得很迟，他有五六夜没有睡好了。有时甚至根本没有睡觉时间。他美美地吃了早餐，然后，正如他所说的，因为对这“不朽之城”的美景并不关心，便吩咐车夫在中午给他备好马车。但腾格拉尔可没有计算到警察局的手续会如此麻烦，驿站站长又是如此的懒惰。驿马到两点钟才来，去代领护照的向导直到三点钟才到。而备好的马车在派里尼老板的门口早吸引了一群游手好闲的人。这些人之中当然有不少职业闲汉。男爵得意洋洋地穿过这些看热闹的人，有不少为了想得些赏钱，那些闲汉便齐声唤他“大人。”在那以前，腾格拉尔一向以被称为男爵自满。大人这个称呼使他有点受宠若惊，便撒了十几个铜板给那群人，那群人为了再多得十几个铜板，立刻改称他为“殿下”。 
“走哪一条路？”车夫用意大利语问。 
“去安科纳省的那条路。”男爵回答。 
派里尼老板翻译了这一问一答，马便疾驶而去。腾格拉尔准备先到威尼斯，在那儿提出一部分钱，然后赴维也纳，休息几天以后，他准备在维也纳住下来，因为他听说那是一个可以寻欢作乐的好地方。 
他离开罗马不到十哩路，天色便晴起来了。腾格拉尔没想到起程会这么晚，要不是这样，他宁愿在罗马多留一夜的。 
他伸出头去，问车夫要多久才能到达一个市镇。 
车夫用意大利语回答，“ＮｏｎＣａｐｉｓｃｏ”［意大利语：“听不懂。——译注］腾格拉尔点一点头，意思是说：“好极了。” 
马车继续向前走。“我到第一个驿站就停车。”腾格拉尔心想。昨天晚上，他美美地睡了一宿，他现在还能感受到那种舒适惬意的余味。他现在舒舒服服地躺在一辆华丽的英国马车里，身下有双重弹簧座垫，由四匹好马拉着车子疾驶。他知道离前面的驿站只有二十哩路了。一个这样幸运地破产的银行家，他的脑子里究竟在想什么呢？ 
腾格拉尔想到了他那在巴黎的太太，大约过了十分钟，他又想起了和亚密莱小姐一同出门的女儿，大约又过了十分钟，他的债权人以及他将来如何花他们的钱十分钟以后，他没有东西可想了，便闭上眼睛睡了。时而，一下比较猛烈的颠簸使他睁开眼睛，于是他感觉得到车子依旧载着他在依稀相似的罗马郊外急速地前进，沿途布满着残存的高架引水桥［罗马水道是罗马著名的古代建筑，最早的筑于公元前三世纪，一般都是用巨石和砖砌成的引水渠道。——译注］，远看象化为花岗石的巨人挡住他们的去路。但这天晚上天气很冷，天空阴暗，而且下着雨，一个旅客坐在温暖的车厢里，在比问一个只会回答“Ｎａｐｉｓｃｏ”的车夫要舒服得多。腾格拉尔继续睡觉，心想反正到达驿站的时候他一定会醒来的。 
马车停了。腾格拉尔以为他们到达了那盼望以久的地点。 
他张开眼睛向窗外望出去，以为他已到了一个市镇或至少到了一个村庄里，但他看见的却是一座象废墟一样的东西，有三四个人象幽灵似的在那儿走来走去。腾格拉尔等了一会儿，心想车夫既已赶完他那一段路，一定会来向他要钱，他就可以借那个机会向新车夫问话。但马已经解辔了，另外几匹马换了上去，可是却始终没有人来向他要钱。腾格拉尔惊奇地推开车门；但一只强有力的手把他推回来，车子又开始行驶了。男爵目瞪口呆，完全醒了。“喂！”他对车夫说，“喂，ｍｉｏｃａｒｏ［意大利语：亲爱的。——译注］！”这两个意大利字，男爵也是在听他的女儿和卡瓦尔康蒂对唱时学来的；但ｍｉｏｃａｒｏ并没有带来回答。腾格拉尔于是把窗打开。 
“喂，我的朋友，”他把头伸到窗外说，“我们是到哪儿去呀？” 
“Ｄｅｎｔｒｏｌａｔｅｓｔａ！”［意大利语：“头缩进去！”——译注］一个庄严而专横的声音喊着并伴随着一个恫吓的手势。 
腾格拉尔明白了，Ｄｅｎｔｒｏｌａｔｅｓｔａ的意思是“把头缩回去！”由此可见他的意大利语进步神速。他服从了，但心里却七上八下，而且那种不安与时俱增。他的脑子不再象开始旅行时那样无忧无虑、他的脑子里现在已充满了种种念头。这些念头无疑使他情绪激动、头脑清醒。但后来由于紧张过分又糊涂了。在我们未曾惊慌的时候，我们对外界的一切看得很清楚，当我们惊慌的时候，外界的一切在我们眼中都有了双重意义，而当我们已经吓慌了的时候，我们除了麻烦以外，便什么都看不见了。腾格拉尔看见一个披着披风的人骑着马在车子的右边疾驰。“宪兵！”他喊道。“难道当局已把我的情形发急报给教皇当局了？”他决定要解除这个疑团。“你们带我到哪儿去？”他问道。 
“Ｄｅｎｔｒｏｌａｔｅｓｔａ！”以前那个声音又气势汹汹的回答。 
腾格拉尔朝车厢左边，转过身去，他看见右边也有一个人骑着马在疾驰。“一定是的了！”腾格拉尔说，额头上直冒出汗来，“我准是被捕了。”于是他便往背垫上一靠，但这一次可不是睡觉而是动脑筋了。不久，月亮升起来了。他看见了那庞大的引水渠架，就是他以前看见过的那些花岗石的鬼怪；只是以前它们在他的右边，而现在则已在他的左边。他知道他们已掉转车头。正在把他带回到罗马去。“噢，倒霉！” 
他喊道，“他们一定已弄到了我的引渡权。”马车继续快驰。一小时就在这样的担惊受怕中过去了，他们所经过的每一个地点都在提醒这个逃亡者他们是在走回头路。终于，他看见一片黑压庄的庞然大物，看来马车一定会撞在那个东西上；但车子一转弯，那个庞然大物便已落在后面了，那原来是环绕在罗马四周的一个城垒。 
“噢，噢！”腾格拉尔喊道，“我们不是回罗马，那么，并不是法院派人来追我，我仁慈的上帝！”另外一个念头浮上他的脑海，“但如果他们竟是——” 
他的头发竖了起来。他想起了那些在巴黎很少有人相信的关于罗马强盗的有趣的故事。他想起了阿尔贝·马尔塞夫在与欧热妮小姐的婚约未破裂前讲述的那一番冒险。“他们或许是强盗！”他自言自语地说。正当那时，车子驶上了一条比碎石路更硬的路面。腾格拉尔大着胆子向路的两边望了一望，看见两边都是一式的纪念碑，马尔塞夫那场冒险的种种细节在他的头脑里面盘桓着，他确信自己已被带上了阿匹爱氏路上，在一块象山谷似的地方，他看见有一个圆形凹陷的建筑物。那是卡拉卡勒竞技场。车子右边那个骑马的人一声令下马车便停住了。同时，车子左侧的门打开了。 
“Ｓｃｅｎｄｉ！”［意大利语：“跟着来。”——译注］一个命令式的声音喊道。腾格拉尔本能地下车，他虽然不会说意大利语，他却已经懂得这个字。半死不活的男爵向四周看了一看。除车夫以外的四个人把他围了起来。 
“Ｄｉｑｕａ，”［意大利语：“下来！”——译注］其中有一个人一面说，一面带头走下一条离开阿匹爱氏路的岔道。腾格拉尔一声不吭地跟在他的身后，并不反抗，无须回头，另外那三个人一定跟在他的后面。可是，他似乎觉得每隔一段的距离就站着一个人，象哨兵似的。 
这样走了大约十分钟，在这期间，腾格拉尔没有和他前面的人说一句话，最后，他发现自己已在一座小丘和一丛长得很高的杂草之间；三个人默默地站成一个三角形，而他是那个三角形的中心。他想说话但他的舌头却不听使唤。 
“Ａｖａｎｔｉ！”［意大利语：向前走。”——译注］是那个严厉和专横的声音说。 
这一次，腾格拉尔更明白了，他不但听懂了话，而且也领会了动作的含义，因为他身后的那个人非常粗鲁地把他一推，他差点撞到在前面带路的那个人身上，这个人就是我们的朋友庇皮诺，他扎进杂草丛中，沿着一条只有蜥蜴或黄鼠狼才认为是一条大道的小径向前走去。在一块小树掩遮下的岩石前面他停了下来，那块岩石半开半掩，刚好可容一个人钻进去，那个小伙子一转身便象童话里的妖精似地不见了。腾格拉尔后面的那个人吩咐他也照样做。现在他已经毫不怀疑了，他已经落入罗马强盗手里。腾格拉尔象是一个身临险境进退维谷，却又被恐惧激起了勇气的人那样，他执行了命令，象庇皮诺那样钻了进去。尽管他的肚子给他带来了很多不便。 
他闭上眼睛。直到他的脚触到地面的时候，才张开眼来。里面的路很宽，但却很黑。庇皮诺划火点燃了一支火把，他现在已到了自己的地方，不再怕被人认出了。另外那两个人也紧随着腾格拉尔下来，做他的后卫。腾格拉尔一停步，他们就推着他向前走。他们顺着一条平缓的下坡路走到一处阴森可怖的十字路口。墙上挖着一格格装棺材的墓穴，衬托着白石的墙头，就象是骷髅上黑洞洞的大眼睛一样。 
一个哨兵把他的步枪拍的一声转到左手。“谁？”他喊道。 
“自己人，自己人！”庇皮诺说，“队长在哪儿？” 
“在那边！”哨兵用手向背后面一指；那儿的一个大厅象是岩石挖出来的，大厅里的灯光透过拱形的大门廊照入隧道。 
“好买卖，队长，好买卖！”庇皮诺用意大利语说，他抓住腾格拉尔的衣领，拖着他向门洞走，拖他穿过门洞进入大厅，看来队长就在那里。 
“是这个人吗？”队长问道，他正在聚精会神地读普罗塔克的《亚历山大传》。 
“是的，队长，就是他。” 
“好极了，让我看看他。” 
听到这一声很不客气的命令，庇皮诺便把火把举起来直逼到腾格拉尔的脸上，腾格拉尔吓得忙向后退，以免烧焦眼睫毛。他脸色苍白满是惊恐之色。 
“这个人累了，”队长说，带他上床去睡吧。” 
“上帝，”腾格拉尔暗暗地说，“他所说的床大概是墙壁空洞里的棺材，而我所能享受的睡眠，大概就是由那在黑影里闪闪发光的匕首所造成的长眠了。” 
就是当年阿尔贝·马尔塞夫发现他在读《凯撒历史回忆录》的那个人，这位腾格拉尔发现他在研究《亚历山大传》的首领的话，他的话惊醒了他的同伴，他们从大厅四角用枯叶或狼皮铺成的床上坐起来。那位银行家发出一声呻吟，跟着领他的人向前走，他既未恳求也未哀叫。因为他已经没有精力、意志、没有感觉；不论他们领他到什么地方去，他就会乖乖地跟着走。最后他发觉自己已到了一座楼梯脚下，他机械地抬起腿，向上走了五六步。一扇矮门在他的面前打开了，他低下头，以免撞伤额角，走进一个用岩石挖成的小地室。这回地窖虽然未加粉饰，却很清洁，虽然深埋在地下，却很干燥。地窖的一个角落里有一张干草做的床，上面铺着羊皮。腾格拉尔一看见那张床，眼睛顿时发光了，他认为那是一种安全的象征。“噢，赞美上帝！”他说，这是一张真的床！” 
“Ｅｃｃｏ！”［意大利语：“到了！”——译注］那向导说，他把腾格拉尔往地窖里一推，随手把门关上。 
门闩格拉一响，腾格拉尔变成一个俘虏了。而且，即使没有门闩，他也不可能从这警卫森严的圣·西伯斯坦陵墓里逃出去。至于这群强盗的首领，我们的读者一定已认出那是鼎鼎大名的罗吉·万帕。腾格拉尔也认出了他；当阿尔贝·马尔塞夫在巴黎讲到这个强盗的时候，腾格拉尔不相信他的存在，但现在，他不但认出他，而且也认出了这个曾关过阿尔贝的地窖，这个地方大概是特地留给外客用的。这些记忆给腾格拉尔带来了几分欢喜，使他的心情平静了些。那些强盗既然不想立刻结果他的性命，那么他认为他们根本不想杀他。他们捉他来的目的是为了要钱，既然他身边只带着几块金路易，他相信他们一定会放他出去，他记得马尔塞夫的赎款好象是四千艾居。因为他自认为自己比马尔塞夫重要很多，他把自己的赎款定为八千艾居。八千艾居相当于四万八千里弗；而他现在却有五百零五万法郎在身边。凭着这笔款子，他一定可以使自己恢复自由。他从来没有听说过绑票的赎款有高达五百零五万法郎的，所以，他相信自己不必破费很多钱就可以离开这个地方。他躺到床上，在翻了两三次身以后，便象罗吉·万帕所读的那本书中的主角那样宁静地睡着了。  
Chapter 116 The Pardon
 THE NEXT DAY Danglars was again hungry; certainly the air of that dungeon was very provocative of appetite. The prisoner expected that he would be at no expense that day, for like an economical man he had concealed half of his fowl and a piece of the bread in the corner of his cell. But he had no sooner eaten than he felt thirsty; he had forgotten that. He struggled against his thirst till his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth; then, no longer able to resist, he called out. The sentinel opened the door; it was a new face. He thought it would be better to transact business with his old acquaintance, so he sent for Peppino. "Here I am, your excellency," said Peppino, with an eagerness which Danglars thought favorable to him. "What do you want?" 
"Something to drink." 
"Your excellency knows that wine is beyond all price near Rome." 
"Then give me water," cried Danglars, endeavoring to parry the blow. 
"Oh, water is even more scarce than wine, your excellency,--there has been such a drought." 
"Come," thought Danglars, "it is the same old story." And while he smiled as he attempted to regard the affair as a joke, he felt his temples get moist with perspiration. 
"Come, my friend," said Danglars, seeing that he made no impression on Peppino, "you will not refuse me a glass of wine?" 
"I have already told you that we do not sell at retail." 
"Well, then, let me have a bottle of the least expensive." 
"They are all the same price." 
"And what is that?" 
"Twenty-five thousand francs a bottle." 
"Tell me," cried Danglars, in a tone whose bitterness Harpagon* alone has been capable of revealing--"tell the that you wish to despoil me of all; it will be sooner over than devouring me piecemeal." 
* The miser in Molière's comedy of "L'Avare."--Ed. 
"It is possible such may be the master's intention." 
"The master?--who is he?" 
"The person to whom you were conducted yesterday." 
"Where is he?" 
"Here." 
"Let me see him." 
"Certainly." And the next moment Luigi Vampa appeared before Danglars. 
"You sent for me?" he said to the prisoner. 
"Are you, sir, the chief of the people who brought me here?" 
"Yes, your excellency. What then?" 
"How much do you require for my ransom?" 
"Merely the 5,000,000 you have about you." Danglars felt a dreadful spasm dart through his heart. "But this is all I have left in the world," he said, "out of an immense fortune. If you deprive me of that, take away my life also." 
"We are forbidden to shed your blood." 
"And by whom are you forbidden?" 
"By him we obey." 
"You do, then, obey some one?" 
"Yes, a chief." 
"I thought you said you were the chief?" 
"So I am of these men; but there is another over me." 
"And did your superior order you to treat me in this way?" 
"Yes." 
"But my purse will be exhausted." 
"Probably." 
"Come," said Danglars, "will you take a million?" 
"No." 
"Two millions?--three?--four? Come, four? I will give them to you on condition that you let me go." 
"Why do you offer me 4,000,000 for what is worth 5,000,000? This is a kind of usury, banker, that I do not understand." 
"Take all, then--take all, I tell you, and kill me!" 
"Come, come, calm yourself. You will excite your blood, and that would produce an appetite it would require a million a day to satisfy. Be more economical." 
"But when I have no more money left to pay you?" asked the infuriated Danglars. 
"Then you must suffer hunger." 
"Suffer hunger?" said Danglars, becoming pale. 
"Most likely," replied Vampa coolly. 
"But you say you do not wish to kill me?" 
"No." 
"And yet you will let me perish with hunger?" 
"Ah, that is a different thing." 
"Well, then, wretches," cried Danglars, "I will defy your infamous calculations--I would rather die at once! You may torture, torment, kill me, but you shall not have my signature again!" 
"As your excellency pleases," said Vampa, as he left the cell. Danglars, raving, threw himself on the goat-skin. Who could these men be? Who was the invisible chief? What could be his intentions towards him? And why, when every one else was allowed to be ransomed, might he not also be? Oh, yes; certainly a speedy, violent death would be a fine means of deceiving these remorseless enemies, who appeared to pursue him with such incomprehensible vengeance. But to die? For the first time in his life, Danglars contemplated death with a mixture of dread and desire; the time had come when the implacable spectre, which exists in the mind of every human creature, arrested his attention and called out with every pulsation of his heart, "Thou shalt die!" 
Danglars resembled a timid animal excited in the chase; first it flies, then despairs, and at last, by the very force of desperation, sometimes succeeds in eluding its pursuers. Danglars meditated an escape; but the walls were solid rock, a man was sitting reading at the only outlet to the cell, and behind that man shapes armed with guns continually passed. His resolution not to sign lasted two days, after which he offered a million for some food. They sent him a magnificent supper, and took his million. 
From this time the prisoner resolved to suffer no longer, but to have everything he wanted. At the end of twelve days, after having made a splendid dinner, he reckoned his accounts, and found that he had only 50,000 francs left. Then a strange reaction took place; he who had just abandoned 5,000,000 endeavored to save the 50,000 francs he had left, and sooner than give them up he resolved to enter again upon a life of privation--he was deluded by the hopefulness that is a premonition of madness. He who for so long a time had forgotten God, began to think that miracles were possible--that the accursed cavern might be discovered by the officers of the Papal States, who would release him; that then he would have 50,000 remaining, which would be sufficient to save him from starvation; and finally he prayed that this sum might be preserved to him, and as he prayed he wept. Three days passed thus, during which his prayers were frequent, if not heartfelt. Sometimes he was delirious, and fancied he saw an old man stretched on a pallet; he, also, was dying of hunger. 
On the fourth, he was no longer a man, but a living corpse. He had picked up every crumb that had been left from his former meals, and was beginning to eat the matting which covered the floor of his cell. Then he entreated Peppino, as he would a guardian angel, to give him food; he offered him 1,000 francs for a mouthful of bread. But Peppino did not answer. On the fifth day he dragged himself to the door of the cell. 
"Are you not a Christian?" he said, falling on his knees. "Do you wish to assassinate a man who, in the eyes of heaven, is a brother? Oh, my former friends, my former friends!" he murmured, and fell with his face to the ground. Then rising in despair, he exclaimed, "The chief, the chief!" 
"Here I am," said Vampa, instantly appearing; "what do you want?" 
"Take my last gold," muttered Danglars, holding out his pocket-book, "and let me live here; I ask no more for liberty--I only ask to live!" 
"Then you suffer a great deal?" 
"Oh, yes, yes, cruelly!" 
"Still, there have been men who suffered more than you." 
"I do not think so." 
"Yes; those who have died of hunger." 
Danglars thought of the old man whom, in his hours of delirium, he had seen groaning on his bed. He struck his forehead on the ground and groaned. "Yes," he said, "there have been some who have suffered more than I have, but then they must have been martyrs at least." 
"Do you repent?" asked a deep, solemn voice, which caused Danglars' hair to stand on end. His feeble eyes endeavored to distinguish objects, and behind the bandit he saw a man enveloped in a cloak, half lost in the shadow of a stone column. 
"Of what must I repent?" stammered Danglars. 
"Of the evil you have done," said the voice. 
"Oh, yes; oh, yes, I do indeed repent." And he struck his breast with his emaciated fist. 
"Then I forgive you," said the man, dropping his cloak, and advancing to the light. 
"The Count of Monte Cristo!" said Danglars, more pale from terror than he had been just before from hunger and misery. 
"You are mistaken--I am not the Count of Monte Cristo." 
"Then who are you?" 
"I am he whom you sold and dishonored--I am he whose betrothed you prostituted--I am he upon whom you trampled that you might raise yourself to fortune--I am he whose father you condemned to die of hunger--I am he whom you also condemned to starvation, and who yet forgives you, because he hopes to be forgiven--I am Edmond Dantès!" Danglars uttered a cry, and fell prostrate. "Rise," said the count, "your life is safe; the same good fortune has not happened to your accomplices--one is mad, the other dead. Keep the 50,000 francs you have left--I give them to you. The 5,000,000 you stole from the hospitals has been restored to them by an unknown hand. And now eat and drink; I will entertain you to-night. Vampa, when this man is satisfied, let him be free." Danglars remained prostrate while the count withdrew; when he raised his head he saw disappearing down the passage nothing but a shadow, before which the bandits bowed. According to the count's directions, Danglars was waited on by Vampa, who brought him the best wine and fruits of Italy; then, having conducted him to the road, and pointed to the post-chaise, left him leaning against a tree. He remained there all night, not knowing where he was. When daylight dawned he saw that he was near a stream; he was thirsty, and dragged himself towards it. As he stooped down to drink, he saw that his hair had become entirely white.  
第二天，腾格拉尔又饿了，那间黑牢的空气不知为什么会让人这么开胃。那囚徒本来打算他这天不必再破费，因为，象任何一个会打经济算盘的人一样，他在地窖的角落里藏起了半只鸡和一块面包。但刚吃完东西，他就觉得口渴了，那可是在他的意料这外的。但他一直坚持到他的舌头粘在上颚上，然后，他再也不能坚持下去了，他大喊起来。守卫的打开门，那是一张新面孔。他觉得还是与他的相识做交易比较好一些，便要他去叫庇皮诺。 
“我来啦，大人，”庇皮诺带着急切的表情说，腾格拉尔认为这种急切的表情对他有利的。“您要什么？” 
“要一些喝的东西。” 
“大人知道罗马附近的酒可是贵得很哪。” 
“那么给我水吧。”腾格拉尔喊道，极力想避开那个打击。 
“哦，水甚至比酒更珍贵，今年的天气是这样的旱。” 
“得了，”腾格拉尔说，“看来我们又要兜那个老圈子啦。” 
他的脸上带着微笑，希望把这件事情当作一次玩笑，但他额角上却已经汗涔涔地了。“来，我的朋友，”看到他的话并没有在庇皮诺身上引起什么反应，他又说，“你不会拒绝给我一杯酒的吧？” 
“我已经告诉过大人了，”庇皮诺严肃地答道，“我们是不零卖的。” 
“嗯，那么，给我一瓶最便宜的吧。” 
“都是一样的价钱。” 
“要多少？” 
“两万五千法郎一瓶。” 
“说吧，”腾格拉尔用痛苦的口吻喊道，“就说你们要敲诈得我一文不名，那比这样零零碎碎的宰割我还更痛快些。” 
“没准儿这正是头儿的意思。” 
“头儿！他是谁？” 
“就是前天带您去见的那个人。” 
“他在哪儿？” 
“就在这儿。” 
“让我见见他。” 
“当然可以。” 
一会儿，罗吉·万帕便出现在腾格拉尔的面前了。 
“阁下，你就是带我到这儿来的那些人的首领吗？” 
“是的，大人。” 
“你要我付多少赎金？” 
“哦，说实话，就是您带在身边的那五百万。” 
腾格拉尔的心里感到一阵可怕的剧痛。“以前我虽有大笔的财产，”他说，“现在却只剩下这一笔钱了。如果你把这笔钱都拿走，就同时拿了我的命吧。” 
“我们不准备使您流血。” 
“谁给你们下的命令？” 
“我们所服从的那个人。” 
“那么你也服从那个人的吗？” 
“是的，是一位首领。” 
“我听说，你就是首领，但另有一个人是我的首领。” 
“而那位首领，——他可是也听谁指挥的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“他听谁的指挥？” 
“上帝。” 
腾格拉尔想了一会儿。“我不懂你的意思。”他说。 
“有可能。” 
“是你的首领要你这样对待我的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“他的目的是什么？” 
“我一点都不知道。” 
“我的钱包都要被掏空了呀。” 
“大概会的。” 
“好，”腾格拉尔说，“给你一百万怎么样？” 
“不行。” 
“两百万呢？三百万？四百万？来，四百万哪？条件是你放我走。” 
“值五百万的东西您为什么只给我四百万呢？银行家阁下，您这么杀价我买在不懂。” 
“都拿去吧，那么统统都拿去吧，我告诉你，连我也杀了吧！” 
“好了，好好，别生气。这样会刺激你的血液循环，使血液循环的加速，这样会产生一个每天需要一百万才满足的胃口。您还是经济一点儿吧。” 
“但到我没有钱付给你们的时候，又怎么样呢？”腾格拉尔绝望地问。 
“那时您必须挨饿。” 
“挨饿？”腾格拉尔说，他的脸色发白起来。 
“大概会的。”万帕冷冷地回答。 
“但你不是说你不想杀死我的吗？” 
“是的。” 
“可是你怎么又想让我饿死？” 
“那是另一回事了。” 
“那么，你们这些混蛋！”腾格拉尔喊道，“我决不会让你们的阴谋得逞！我情愿马上就死！你们可以拷打我、虐待我、杀死我，但你们再也得不到我的签字了！” 
“悉听尊便。”万帕说着就离开了地窖。 
腾格拉尔狂怒地把自己往羊皮床上一搁。这些家伙是些什么人呢？那个躲在幕后的首领是谁呢？为什么旁人都可以出了赎金就释放，惟有他却不能这么办呢？噢，是的，这些残酷的敌人既然用这无法理解的手段来迫害他，那么，迅速的突然的死去，可算是一种报复他们的好方法。死？在腾格拉尔的一生中，这大概是他第一次带着恐惧和希望的矛盾想到死。这时，他的目光停留在一个毫不留情的幽灵身上，这个幽灵深藏在每个人的内心中，而且随着每次的心跳一遍遍地说道：“你要死了！” 
腾格拉尔象一头被围捕的野兽。野兽在被追逐的时候，最初是飞逃，然后是绝望，最后，凭着绝望所刺激出来的力量，有时也能绝处逢生。腾格拉尔寻思着逃脱的方法，但四壁都是实心岩石，地窖惟一的出口处有一个人坐在那儿看书，那个人的后面还不断地有带枪的人经过。他那不签字的决心持续了两天，两天以后，他出了一百万买食物。他们送来一顿丰美的晚餐，拿走一百万法郎的支票。 
从这时起，那不幸的囚犯干脆听天由命了。他已受了这样多的痛苦，他决定不让自己再受苦，什么要求他都肯答应了，在他象有钱的时候那样大吃大喝地享受了十二天以后，他算一算账，发觉他只剩下五万法郎了。于是这个囚犯发生了一种奇怪的反应。为了保住剩下的五万法郎。他宁愿再去受饥饿的折磨也不肯放弃那笔钱。有一线濒于疯狂的希望在他眼前闪烁。早就把上帝抛在脑后的他，这时又想起了上帝。上帝有时会创造奇迹的，教皇的巡官或许会发现这个该死的洞窟，把他释放出去，那时他就还可以用剩下五万法郎，保证他此后不致挨饿。他祈祷上帝让他保存这笔钱，他一面祈祷一面哭泣。三天就这样过去了，在这三天里面，即使他的心里并没有想到上帝，但他的嘴巴上总老是挂着上帝的名字。有时他神志昏迷，好象看见一个老人躺在一张破床上，那个老人也已饿得奄奄一息了。 
到第四天，他已饿得不成人形而是一具活尸了。他捡完了以前进餐时掉在地上的每一颗面包屑，开始嚼起干草来了。 
然后他恳求庇皮诺，象恳求一个守护神似的向他讨东西吃，他出一千法郎向他换一小块面包。但庇皮诺不理他。到第五天，他挣扎着摸到地窖的门口。 
“你难道不是一个基督徒吗？”他支撑着起来说：“你们忍心看着一个在上帝面前与你同是兄弟的人死去吗？我的朋友，我当年的朋友呀！”他喃喃地说，脸贴到地上。然后他绝望地站起来，喊道，“首领！首领！” 
“我在这儿，”万帕立刻出现，说，“您想要什么？” 
“把我最后的一个金币拿去吧！”腾格拉尔递出他的皮夹，结结巴巴地说，“让我住在这个洞里吧。我不再要自由了，我只要求让我活下去！” 
“那么您真的感到痛苦了？” 
“哦，是的，是的，我痛苦极了！” 
“可是，还有人比您受过更大的痛苦。” 
“我不相信。” 
“有的，想想那些活活饿死的人。” 
腾格拉尔想到了他在昏迷状态时所见的那个躺在床上呻吟的老人。他以额撞地，也呻吟起来。“是的，”他说，“虽有人比我痛苦，但他们至少是殉道而死的。” 
“你忏悔了吗？”一个庄严低沉的声音问道。腾格拉尔听了吓得头发根都直竖起来。他睁大衰弱的眼睛竭力想看清眼前的东西，在那强盗的后面，他看见一个人裹着披风站在石柱的影阴里。 
“我忏悔什么呢？”腾格拉尔结结巴巴地说。 
“忏悔你所做过的坏事。”那个声音说。 
“噢，是的！我忏悔了！我忏悔了！”腾格拉尔说，他用他那瘦削的拳头捶着他的胸膛。 
“那么我宽恕你。”那人说着就摔下他的披风，走到亮光里。 
“基督山伯爵！”腾格拉尔说，饥饿和痛苦使他的脸色苍白，恐惧更使他面如土色了。 
“你弄错了，我不是基督山伯爵！” 
“那末你是谁呢？” 
“我就是那个被你诬陷、出卖和污蔑的人。我的未婚妻被你害得过着屈辱的生活。我横遭你的践踏，被你作为升官发财的垫脚石，我的父亲被你害得活活饿死，——我本来也想让你死于饥饿。可是我宽恕了你，因为我也需要宽恕。我就是爱德蒙·唐太斯。” 
腾格拉尔大叫一声，摔倒在地上缩成一团。 
“起来吧，”伯爵说，“你的生命是安全的。你的那两个同伴可没有你这样幸运，一个疯了，一个死了。留着剩下的那五万法郎吧，我送给你了。你从医院里骗来的那五百万，已经送回给他们了。现在你可以好好地吃一顿。今天晚上你是我的客人。万帕，这个人吃饱以后，就把他放了。” 
伯爵离开的时候腾格拉尔仍然倒在地上，当他抬起头来的时候，只看见一个人影在甬道里消失了，甬道两旁的强盗都对他鞠躬。万帕遵照伯爵的指示，款待了腾格拉尔一顿，让他享受意大利最好的酒和美食，然后，用他的马车带他离开，把他放在路上，他靠着一棵树干。在树下呆了一整夜，不知道自己身在何处。天亮的时候，他发现自己在一条小溪附近；他口渴了，踉踉跄跄地走到小溪边。当他俯下身来饮水的时候，他发现自己的头发已完全白了。  
Chapter 117 The Fifth of October
 IT WAS about six o'clock in the evening; an opal-colored light, through which an autumnal sun shed its golden rays, descended on the blue ocean. The heat of the day had gradually decreased, and a light breeze arose, seeming like the respiration of nature on awakening from the burning siesta of the south. A delicious zephyr played along the coasts of the Mediterranean, and wafted from shore to shore the sweet perfume of plants, mingled with the fresh smell of the sea. 
A light yacht, chaste and elegant in its form, was gliding amidst the first dews of night over the immense lake, extending from Gibraltar to the Dardanelles, and from Tunis to Venice. The vessel resembled a swan with its wings opened towards the wind, gliding on the water. It advanced swiftly and gracefully, leaving behind it a glittering stretch of foam. By degrees the sun disappeared behind the western horizon; but as though to prove the truth of the fanciful ideas in heathen mythology, its indiscreet rays reappeared on the summit of every wave, as if the god of fire had just sunk upon the bosom of Amphitrite, who in vain endeavored to hide her lover beneath her azure mantle. The yacht moved rapidly on, though there did not appear to be sufficient wind to ruffle the curls on the head of a young girl. Standing on the prow was a tall man, of a dark complexion, who saw with dilating eyes that they were approaching a dark mass of land in the shape of a cone, which rose from the midst of the waves like the hat of a Catalan. "Is that Monte Cristo?" asked the traveller, to whose orders the yacht was for the time submitted, in a melancholy voice. 
"Yes, your excellency," said the captain, "we have reached it." 
"We have reached it!" repeated the traveller in an accent of indescribable sadness. Then he added, in a low tone, "Yes; that is the haven." And then he again plunged into a train of thought, the character of which was better revealed by a sad smile, than it would have been by tears. A few minutes afterwards a flash of light, which was extinguished instantly, was seen on the land, and the sound of firearms reached the yacht. 
"Your excellency," said the captain, "that was the land signal, will you answer yourself?" 
"What signal?" The captain pointed towards the island, up the side of which ascended a volume of smoke, increasing as it rose. "Ah, yes," he said, as if awaking from a dream. "Give it to me." 
The captain gave him a loaded carbine; the traveller slowly raised it, and fired in the air. Ten minutes afterwards, the sails were furled, and they cast anchor about a hundred fathoms from the little harbor. The gig was already lowered, and in it were four oarsmen and a coxswain. The traveller descended, and instead of sitting down at the stern of the boat, which had been decorated with a blue carpet for his accommodation, stood up with his arms crossed. The rowers waited, their oars half lifted out of the water, like birds drying their wings. 
"Give way," said the traveller. The eight oars fell into the sea simultaneously without splashing a drop of water, and the boat, yielding to the impulsion, glided forward. In an instant they found themselves in a little harbor, formed in a natural creek; the boat grounded on the fine sand. 
"Will your excellency be so good as to mount the shoulders of two of our men, they will carry you ashore?" The young man answered this invitation with a gesture of indifference, and stepped out of the boat; the sea immediately rose to his waist. "Ah, your excellency," murmured the pilot, "you should not have done so; our master will scold us for it." The young man continued to advance, following the sailors, who chose a firm footing. Thirty strides brought them to dry land; the young man stamped on the ground to shake off the wet, and looked around for some one to show him his road, for it was quite dark. Just as he turned, a hand rested on his shoulder, and a voice which made him shudder exclaimed,-- 
"Good-evening, Maximilian; you are punctual, thank you!" 
"Ah, is it you, count?" said the young man, in an almost joyful accent, pressing Monte Cristo's hand with both his own. 
"Yes; you see I am as exact as you are. But you are dripping, my dear fellow; you must change your clothes, as Calypso said to Telemachus. Come, I have a habitation prepared for you in which you will soon forget fatigue and cold." Monte Cristo perceived that the young man had turned around; indeed, Morrel saw with surprise that the men who had brought him had left without being paid, or uttering a word. Already the sound of their oars might be heard as they returned to the yacht. 
"Oh, yes," said the count, "you are looking for the sailors." 
"Yes, I paid them nothing, and yet they are gone." 
"Never mind that, Maximilian," said Monte Cristo, smiling. "I have made an agreement with the navy, that the access to my island shall be free of all charge. I have made a bargain." Morrel looked at the count with surprise. "Count," he said, "you are not the same here as in Paris." 
"How so?" 
"Here you laugh." The count's brow became clouded. "You are right to recall me to myself, Maximilian," he said; "I was delighted to see you again, and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting." 
"Oh, no, no, count," cried Maximilian, seizing the count's hands, "pray laugh; be happy, and prove to me, by your indifference, that life is endurable to sufferers. Oh, how charitable, kind, and good you are; you affect this gayety to inspire me with courage." 
"You are wrong, Morrel; I was really happy." 
"Then you forget me, so much the better." 
"How so?" 
"Yes; for as the gladiator said to the emperor, when he entered the arena, 'He who is about to die salutes you.'" 
"Then you are not consoled?" asked the count, surprised. 
"Oh," exclaimed Morrel, with a glance full of bitter reproach, "do you think it possible that I could be?" 
"Listen," said the count. "Do you understand the meaning of my words? You cannot take me for a commonplace man, a mere rattle, emitting a vague and senseless noise. When I ask you if you are consoled, I speak to you as a man for whom the human heart has no secrets. Well, Morrel, let us both examine the depths of your heart. Do you still feel the same feverish impatience of grief which made you start like a wounded lion? Have you still that devouring thirst which can only be appeased in the grave? Are you still actuated by the regret which drags the living to the pursuit of death; or are you only suffering from the prostration of fatigue and the weariness of hope deferred? Has the loss of memory rendered it impossible for you to weep? Oh, my dear friend, if this be the case,--if you can no longer weep, if your frozen heart be dead, if you put all your trust in God, then, Maximilian, you are consoled--do not complain." 
"Count," said Morrel, in a firm and at the same time soft voice, "listen to me, as to a man whose thoughts are raised to heaven, though he remains on earth; I come to die in the arms of a friend. Certainly, there are people whom I love. I love my sister Julie,--I love her husband Emmanuel; but I require a strong mind to smile on my last moments. My sister would be bathed in tears and fainting; I could not bear to see her suffer. Emmanuel would tear the weapon from my hand, and alarm the house with his cries. You, count, who are more than mortal, will, I am sure, lead me to death by a pleasant path, will you not?" 
"My friend," said the count, "I have still one doubt,--are you weak enough to pride yourself upon your sufferings?" 
"No, indeed,--I am calm," said Morrel, giving his hand to the count; "my pulse does not beat slower or faster than usual. No, I feel that I have reached the goal, and I will go no farther. You told me to wait and hope; do you know what you did, unfortunate adviser? I waited a month, or rather I suffered for a month! I did hope (man is a poor wretched creature), I did hope. What I cannot tell,--something wonderful, an absurdity, a miracle,--of what nature he alone can tell who has mingled with our reason that folly we call hope. Yes, I did wait--yes, I did hope, count, and during this quarter of an hour we have been talking together, you have unconsciously wounded, tortured my heart, for every word you have uttered proved that there was no hope for me. Oh, count, I shall sleep calmly, deliciously in the arms of death." Morrel uttered these words with an energy which made the count shudder. "My friend," continued Morrel, "you named the fifth of October as the end of the period of waiting,--to-day is the fifth of October," he took out his watch, "it is now nine o'clock,--I have yet three hours to live." 
"Be it so," said the count, "come." Morrel mechanically followed the count, and they had entered the grotto before he perceived it. He felt a carpet under his feet, a door opened, perfumes surrounded him, and a brilliant light dazzled his eyes. Morrel hesitated to advance; he dreaded the enervating effect of all that he saw. Monte Cristo drew him in gently. "Why should we not spend the last three hours remaining to us of life, like those ancient Romans, who when condemned by Nero, their emperor and heir, sat down at a table covered with flowers, and gently glided into death, amid the perfume of heliotropes and roses?" Morrel smiled. "As you please," he said; "death is always death,--that is forgetfulness, repose, exclusion from life, and therefore from grief." He sat down, and Monte Cristo placed himself opposite to him. They were in the marvellous dining-room before described, where the statues had baskets on their heads always filled with fruits and flowers. Morrel had looked carelessly around, and had probably noticed nothing. 
"Let us talk like men," he said, looking at the count. 
"Go on!" 
"Count," said Morrel, "you are the epitome of all human knowledge, and you seem like a being descended from a wiser and more advanced world than ours." 
"There is something true in what you say," said the count, with that smile which made him so handsome; "I have descended from a planet called grief." 
"I believe all you tell me without questioning its meaning; for instance, you told me to live, and I did live; you told me to hope, and I almost did so. I am almost inclined to ask you, as though you had experienced death, 'is it painful to die?'" 
Monte Cristo looked upon Morrel with indescribable tenderness. "Yes," he said, "yes, doubtless it is painful, if you violently break the outer covering which obstinately begs for life. If you plunge a dagger into your flesh, if you insinuate a bullet into your brain, which the least shock disorders,--then certainly, you will suffer pain, and you will repent quitting a life for a repose you have bought at so dear a price." 
"Yes; I know that there is a secret of luxury and pain in death, as well as in life; the only thing is to understand it." "You have spoken truly, Maximilian; according to the care we bestow upon it, death is either a friend who rocks us gently as a nurse, or an enemy who violently drags the soul from the body. Some day, when the world is much older, and when mankind will be masters of all the destructive powers in nature, to serve for the general good of humanity; when mankind, as you were just saying, have discovered the secrets of death, then that death will become as sweet and voluptuous as a slumber in the arms of your beloved." 
"And if you wished to die, you would choose this death, count?" 
"Yes." 
Morrel extended his hand. "Now I understand," he said, "why you had me brought here to this desolate spot, in the midst of the ocean, to this subterranean palace; it was because you loved me, was it not, count? It was because you loved me well enough to give me one of those sweet means of death of which we were speaking; a death without agony, a death which allows me to fade away while pronouncing Valentine's name and pressing your hand." 
"Yes, you have guessed rightly, Morrel," said the count, "that is what I intended." 
"Thanks; the idea that tomorrow I shall no longer suffer, is sweet to my heart." 
"Do you then regret nothing?" 
"No," replied Morrel. 
"Not even me?" asked the count with deep emotion. Morrel's clear eye was for the moment clouded, then it shone with unusual lustre, and a large tear rolled down his cheek. 
"What," said the count, "do you still regret anything in the world, and yet die?" 
"Oh, I entreat you," exclaimed Morrel in a low voice, "do not speak another word, count; do not prolong my punishment." The count fancied that he was yielding, and this belief revived the horrible doubt that had overwhelmed him at the Chateau d'If. "I am endeavoring," he thought, "to make this man happy; I look upon this restitution as a weight thrown into the scale to balance the evil I have wrought. Now, supposing I am deceived, supposing this man has not been unhappy enough to merit happiness. Alas, what would become of me who can only atone for evil by doing good?" Then he said aloud: "Listen, Morrel, I see your grief is great, but still you do not like to risk your soul." Morrel smiled sadly. "Count," he said, "I swear to you my soul is no longer my own." 
"Maximilian, you know I have no relation in the world. I have accustomed myself to regard you as my son: well, then, to save my son, I will sacrifice my life, nay, even my fortune." 
"What do you mean?" 
"I mean, that you wish to quit life because you do not understand all the enjoyments which are the fruits of a large fortune. Morrel, I possess nearly a hundred millions and I give them to you; with such a fortune you can attain every wish. Are you ambitions? Every career is open to you. Overturn the world, change its character, yield to mad ideas, be even criminal--but live." 
"Count, I have your word," said Morrel coldly; then taking out his watch, he added, "It is half-past eleven." 
"Morrel, can you intend it in my house, under my very eyes?" 
"Then let me go," said Maximilian, "or I shall think you did not love me for my own sake, but for yours; "and he arose. 
"It is well," said Monte Cristo whose countenance brightened at these words; "you wish--you are inflexible. Yes, as you said, you are indeed wretched and a miracle alone can cure you. Sit down, Morrel, and wait." 
Morrel obeyed; the count arose, and unlocking a closet with a key suspended from his gold chain, took from it a little silver casket, beautifully carved and chased, the corners of which represented four bending figures, similar to the Caryatides, the forms of women, symbols of the angels aspiring to heaven. He placed the casket on the table; then opening it took out a little golden box, the top of which flew open when touched by a secret spring. This box contained an unctuous substance partly solid, of which it was impossible to discover the color, owing to the reflection of the polished gold, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, which ornamented the box. It was a mixed mass of blue, red, and gold. The count took out a small quantity of this with a gilt spoon, and offered it to Morrel, fixing a long steadfast glance upon him. It was then observable that the substance was greenish. 
"This is what you asked for," he said, "and what I promised to give you." 
"I thank you from the depths of my heart," said the young man, taking the spoon from the hands of Monte Cristo. The count took another spoon, and again dipped it into the golden box. "What are you going to do, my friend?" asked Morrel, arresting his hand. 
"Well, the fact is, Morrel, I was thinking that I too am weary of life, and since an opportunity presents itself"-- 
"Stay!" said the young man. "You who love, and are beloved; you, who have faith and hope,--oh, do not follow my example. In your case it would be a crime. Adieu, my noble and generous friend, adieu; I will go and tell Valentine what you have done for me." And slowly, though without any hesitation, only waiting to press the count's hand fervently, he swallowed the mysterious substance offered by Monte Cristo. Then they were both silent. Ali, mute and attentive, brought the pipes and coffee, and disappeared. By degrees, the light of the lamps gradually faded in the hands of the marble statues which held them, and the perfumes appeared less powerful to Morrel. Seated opposite to him, Monte Cristo watched him in the shadow, and Morrel saw nothing but the bright eyes of the count. An overpowering sadness took possession of the young man, his hands relaxed their hold, the objects in the room gradually lost their form and color, and his disturbed vision seemed to perceive doors and curtains open in the walls. 
"Friend," he cried, "I feel that I am dying; thanks!" He made a last effort to extend his hand, but it fell powerless beside him. Then it appeared to him that Monte Cristo smiled, not with the strange and fearful expression which had sometimes revealed to him the secrets of his heart, but with the benevolent kindness of a father for a child. At the same time the count appeared to increase in stature, his form, nearly double its usual height, stood out in relief against the red tapestry, his black hair was thrown back, and he stood in the attitude of an avenging angel. Morrel, overpowered, turned around in the arm-chair; a delicious torpor permeated every vein. A change of ideas presented themselves to his brain, like a new design on the kaleidoscope. Enervated, prostrate, and breathless, he became unconscious of outward objects; he seemed to be entering that vague delirium preceding death. He wished once again to press the count's hand, but his own was immovable. He wished to articulate a last farewell, but his tongue lay motionless and heavy in his throat, like a stone at the mouth of a sepulchre. Involuntarily his languid eyes closed, and still through his eyelashes a well-known form seemed to move amid the obscurity with which he thought himself enveloped. 
The count had just opened a door. Immediately a brilliant light from the next room, or rather from the palace adjoining, shone upon the room in which he was gently gliding into his last sleep. Then he saw a woman of marvellous beauty appear on the threshold of the door separating the two rooms. Pale, and sweetly smiling, she looked like an angel of mercy conjuring the angel of vengeance. "Is it heaven that opens before me?" thought the dying man; "that angel resembles the one I have lost." Monte Cristo pointed out Morrel to the young woman, who advanced towards him with clasped hands and a smile upon her lips. 
"Valentine, Valentine!" he mentally ejaculated; but his lips uttered no sound, and as though all his strength were centred in that internal emotion, he sighed and closed his eyes. Valentine rushed towards him; his lips again moved. 
"He is calling you," said the count; "he to whom you have confided your destiny--he from whom death would have separated you, calls you to him. Happily, I vanquished death. Henceforth, Valentine, you will never again be separated on earth, since he has rushed into death to find you. Without me, you would both have died. May God accept my atonement in the preservation of these two existences!" 
Valentine seized the count's hand, and in her irresistible impulse of joy carried it to her lips. 
"Oh, thank me again!" said the count; "tell me till you are weary, that I have restored you to happiness; you do not know how much I require this assurance." 
"Oh, yes, yes, I thank you with all my heart," said Valentine; "and if you doubt the sincerity of my gratitude, oh, then, ask Haidée! ask my beloved sister Haidée, who ever since our departure from France, has caused me to wait patiently for this happy day, while talking to me of you." 
"You then love Haidée?" asked Monte Cristo with an emotion he in vain endeavored to dissimulate. 
"Oh, yes, with all my soul." 
"Well, then, listen, Valentine," said the count; "I have a favor to ask of you." 
"Of me? Oh, am I happy enough for that?" 
"Yes; you have called Haidée your sister,--let her become so indeed, Valentine; render her all the gratitude you fancy that you owe to me; protect her, for" (the count's voice was thick with emotion) "henceforth she will be alone in the world." 
"Alone in the world!" repeated a voice behind the count, "and why?" 
Monte Cristo turned around; Haidée was standing pale, motionless, looking at the count with an expression of fearful amazement. 
"Because to-morrow, Haidée, you will be free; you will then assume your proper position in society, for I will not allow my destiny to overshadow yours. Daughter of a prince, I restore to you the riches and name of your father." 
Haidée became pale, and lifting her transparent hands to heaven, exclaimed in a voice stifled with tears, "Then you leave me, my lord?" 
"Haidée, Haidée, you are young and beautiful; forget even my name, and be happy." 
"It is well," said Haidée; "your order shall be executed, my lord; I will forget even your name, and be happy." And she stepped back to retire. 
"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, who was supporting the head of Morrel on her shoulder, "do you not see how pale she is? Do you not see how she suffers?" 
Haidée answered with a heartrending expression, "Why should he understand this, my sister? He is my master, and I am his slave; he has the right to notice nothing." 
The count shuddered at the tones of a voice which penetrated the inmost recesses of his heart; his eyes met those of the young girl and he could not bear their brilliancy. "Oh, heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "can my suspicions be correct? Haidée, would it please you not to leave me?" 
"I am young," gently replied Haidée; "I love the life you have made so sweet to me, and I should be sorry to die." 
"You mean, then, that if I leave you, Haidée"-- 
"I should die; yes, my lord." 
"Do you then love me?" 
"Oh, Valentine, he asks if I love him. Valentine, tell him if you love Maximilian." The count felt his heart dilate and throb; he opened his arms, and Haidée, uttering a cry, sprang into them. "Oh, yes," she cried, "I do love you! I love you as one loves a father, brother, husband! I love you as my life, for you are the best, the noblest of created beings!" 
"Let it be, then, as you wish, sweet angel; God has sustained me in my struggle with my enemies, and has given me this reward; he will not let me end my triumph in suffering; I wished to punish myself, but he has pardoned me. Love me then, Haidée! Who knows? perhaps your love will make me forget all that I do not wish to remember." 
"What do you mean, my lord?" 
"I mean that one word from you has enlightened me more than twenty years of slow experience; I have but you in the world, Haidée; through you I again take hold on life, through you I shall suffer, through you rejoice." 
"Do you hear him, Valentine?" exclaimed Haidée; "he says that through me he will suffer--through me, who would yield my life for his." The count withdrew for a moment. "Have I discovered the truth?" he said; "but whether it be for recompense or punishment, I accept my fate. Come, Haidée, come!" and throwing his arm around the young girl's waist, he pressed the hand of Valentine, and disappeared. 
An hour had nearly passed, during which Valentine, breathless and motionless, watched steadfastly over Morrel. At length she felt his heart beat, a faint breath played upon his lips, a slight shudder, announcing the return of life, passed through the young man's frame. At length his eyes opened, but they were at first fixed and expressionless; then sight returned, and with it feeling and grief. "Oh," he cried, in an accent of despair, "the count has deceived me; I am yet living; "and extending his hand towards the table, he seized a knife. 
"Dearest," exclaimed Valentine, with her adorable smile, "awake, and look at me!" Morrel uttered a loud exclamation, and frantic, doubtful, dazzled, as though by a celestial vision, he fell upon his knees. 
The next morning at daybreak, Valentine and Morrel were walking arm-in-arm on the sea-shore, Valentine relating how Monte Cristo had appeared in her room, explained everything, revealed the crime, and, finally, how he had saved her life by enabling her to simulate death. They had found the door of the grotto opened, and gone forth; on the azure dome of heaven still glittered a few remaining stars. Morrel soon perceived a man standing among the rocks, apparently awaiting a sign from them to advance, and pointed him out to Valentine. "Ah, it is Jacopo," she said, "the captain of the yacht; "and she beckoned him towards them. 
"Do you wish to speak to us?" asked Morrel. 
"I have a letter to give you from the count." 
"From the count!" murmured the two young people. 
"Yes; read it." Morrel opened the letter, and read:-- 
"MY DEAR MAXIMILIAN,-- 
"There is a felucca for you at anchor. Jacopo will carry you to Leghorn, where Monsieur Noirtier awaits his granddaughter, whom he wishes to bless before you lead her to the altar. All that is in this grotto, my friend, my house in the Champs Elysées, and my Chateau at Tréport, are the marriage gifts bestowed by Edmond Dantès upon the son of his old master, Morrel. Mademoiselle de Villefort will share them with you; for I entreat her to give to the poor the immense fortune reverting to her from her father, now a madman, and her brother who died last September with his mother. Tell the angel who will watch over your future destiny, Morrel, to pray sometimes for a man, who like Satan thought himself for an instant equal to God, but who now acknowledges with Christian humility that God alone possesses supreme power and infinite wisdom. Perhaps those prayers may soften the remorse he feels in his heart. As for you, Morrel, this is the secret of my conduct towards you. There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of living. 
"Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words,--'Wait and hope.' Your friend, 
"EDMOND DANTèS, COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO." 
During the perusal of this letter, which informed Valentine for the first time of the madness of her father and the death of her brother, she became pale, a heavy sigh escaped from her bosom, and tears, not the less painful because they were silent, ran down her cheeks; her happiness cost her very dear. Morrel looked around uneasily. "But," he said, "the count's generosity is too overwhelming; Valentine will be satisfied with my humble fortune. Where is the count, friend? Lead me to him." Jacopo pointed towards the horizon. "What do you mean?" asked Valentine. "Where is the count?--where is Haidée?" 
"Look!" said Jacopo. 
The eyes of both were fixed upon the spot indicated by the sailor, and on the blue line separating the sky from the Mediterranean Sea, they perceived a large white sail. "Gone," said Morrel; "gone!--adieu, my friend--adieu, my father!" 
"Gone," murmured Valentine; "adieu, my sweet Haidée--adieu, my sister!" 
"Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?" said Morrel with tearful eyes. 
"Darling," replied Valentine, "has not the count just told us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words?--'Wait and hope.'" 
傍晚六点钟左右；乳白色的晕雾笼罩到蔚蓝的海面上；透过这片晕雾，秋天的太阳把它那金色的光芒撒在蔚蓝的海面上，白天的炎热已渐渐消退了，微风拂过海面，象是大自然午睡醒来后呼出的气息一样；一阵爽神的微风吹拂着地中海的海岸，把夹杂着清新的海的气息的花草香味到处播送。 
在这片从直布罗陀到达达尼尔，从突尼斯到威尼斯的浩瀚无垠的大海上，一艘整洁、漂亮、轻捷的游艇正在黄昏的轻雾中穿行。犹如一只迎风展翅的天鹅，平稳地在水面上滑行。它迅速而优美地在它的后面留下一道发光的水痕。渐渐地，太阳消失在西方的地平线上了：但象是要证实神话家的幻想似的，尚未收尽的余辉象火焰一般跳动在每一个波浪的浪尖上，似乎告诉人们海神安费德丽蒂把火神拥在怀抱里，她虽然竭力要把她的爱人掩藏在她那蔚蓝的大毯子底下，却始终掩饰不住。海面上的风虽然还不够吹乱一个少女头上的鬈发，但那艘游艇却行进得非常快。船头上站着一个身材高大、肤色浅黑的男子，他大睁着的眼睛看着他们渐渐接近的一片乌压压的陆地，那块陆地矗立在万顷波涛之中，象是一顶硕大无朋的迦太兰人的圆锥形的帽子。 
“这就是基督山岛吗？”这位旅客用一种低沉的充满抑郁的声音问道。这艘游艇看上去是按照他的吩咐行驶的。 
“是的，大人，”船长说，“我们到了！” 
“我们到了！那旅客用一种无法形容的悲哀的声音把这句话复述了遍。然后他又低声说，“是的，就是那个港口。”于是他又带着一个比流泪更伤心的微笑再陷入一连串的思索里。几分钟以后，只见岛上闪过一道转瞬即逝的亮光，一声枪响几乎同时传到游艇上。 
“大人，”船长说，“岛上发信号了，您要亲自回答吗？” 
“什么信号？” 
船长向这座岛指了一指，岛边升起一缕渐渐向上扩大的轻烟。 
“啊，是的，”他说，象是从一场梦里醒来似的。“拿给我。” 
船长给他一支实弹的马枪；旅客把它慢慢地举起来，向空放了一枪。十分钟以后，水手收起帆，在离小港口外五百尺的地方抛下锚。小艇已经放到水上，艇里有四个船夫和一个舵手。那旅客走下小艇，小艇的船尾上铺着一块蓝色的毡毯供他坐垫，但他并没有坐下来，却兀自把手叉在胸前。船夫们等待着，他们的桨半举在水面外，象是海鸟在晾干它们的翅膀似的。 
“走吧，”那旅客说。八条桨一齐插入水里，没有溅起一滴水花，小船迅速地向前滑去。一会儿，他们已到了一个天然形成的小港里；船底触到沙滩不动了。 
“大人请骑在这两个人的肩头上让他们送您上岸去。”那青年作了一个不在乎的姿势答复这种邀请，自己跨到水里，水齐及他的腰。 
“啊，大人！”舵手轻声地说，“您不应该这样的，主人会责怪我们的。” 
那青年继续跟着前面的水手向前走。走了大约三十步以后，他们登上陆地了。那青年在干硬的地面上蹬了蹬脚使劲向四下里望着，他想找一个人为他引路，因为这时天色已经完全黑了。正当他转过身去的时候，一只手落到他的肩头上，同时有个声音把他吓了一跳。 
“您好，马西米兰！你很守时，谢谢你！” 
“啊！是你吗，伯爵？”那青年人用一种几乎可说很欢喜的声音说，双手紧紧地握住基督山的手。 
“是的，你瞧，我也象你一样的守约。但你身上还在滴水，我亲爱的朋友，我得象凯丽普索对德勒马克［典出荷马名著《奥德赛》：凯丽普索是住在奥癸其亚岛上的女神，德勒马克船破落海，被救起，收留在她的岛上。——译注］所说的那样对你说，你得换换衣服了。来，我为你准备了一个住处，你在那儿，不久就会忘掉疲劳和寒冷了。” 
基督山发现那年轻人又转过身去，象在等什么人。莫雷尔很奇怪那些带他来的人竟一言不发，不要报酬就走了。原来他们已经在回到游艇上去了，他可以听到他们的划桨声。 
“啊，对了，”伯爵说，“你在找那些水手吗？” 
“是的，我还没付给他们钱，他们就走了。” 
“别去管这事了，马西米兰，”基督山微笑着说，“我曾和航海业中的人约定：凡是到我的岛上来的旅客，一切费用都不收。用文明国家的说法，我与他们之间是有‘协定’的。” 
马西米兰惊讶地望着伯爵。“伯爵”，他说，“你跟在巴黎时不一样了。” 
“为什么呢？” 
“在这儿，你笑了。” 
伯爵的脸色又变得阴郁起来。”你说得很对，马西米兰，你提醒我回到现实中，”他说，“我很高兴再看见你，可忘记了所有的快乐都是过眼云烟。” 
“噢，不，不，伯爵！”马西米兰抓住伯爵的双手喊道，“请笑吧。你应该快乐，你应该幸福，应该用你的谈笑自若的态度来证明：生命只有在这些受苦的人才是一个累赘。噢，你是多么善良，多么仁慈呀！你是为了鼓励我才装出高兴的样子。” 
“你错了，莫雷尔，我刚才是真的很高兴。” 
“那么你是忘了，那样也好。” 
“为什么这么说？” 
“是的，正如古罗马的斗士在走进角斗场以前对罗马皇帝所说的那样，我也要对你说：去赴死的人来向你致敬了。’” 
“你的痛苦还没有减轻吗？”伯爵带着一种奇特的神色问道。 
“哦！”莫雷尔的眼光中充满苦涩，“你难道真的以为我能够吗？” 
“请听我说，”伯爵说，“你明白我的意思吗？你不能把我看作一个普通人，看作一个只会喋喋不休地说些废话的人。当我问你是否感到痛苦已减轻的时候，我是作为一个能洞悉人的心底秘密的人的资格来对你说的。嗯，莫雷尔，让我们一同来深入你的心灵，来对它作一番探索吧，难道使你身躯象受伤狮子一样跳动的痛苦仍然那么强烈？难道你仍然渴望到坟墓里去熄灭你的痛苦吗？难道那种迫使你舍生求死的悔恨依然存在吗？难道是勇气耗尽，烦恼要把希望之光抑止？难道你丧失记忆使你不能哭泣了？噢，亲爱的朋友，如果你把一切都托付给上帝的话，——那么，马西米兰，你是已经得到上帝的宽慰，别再抱怨了。” 
“伯爵，”莫雷尔用坚定而平静的口气说，“且听我说，我的肉体虽然还在人间，但我的思想却已升到天上。我之所以到你这儿来，是因为希望自己死在一个朋友的怀抱里。世界上的确还有几个我所爱的人。我爱我的妹妹，我爱她的丈夫。但我需要有人对我张开坚定的臂膀，在我临终的时候能微笑地对着我。我的妹妹会满脸泪痕地昏过去，我会因为她的痛苦而痛苦。艾曼纽会阻止我的行动，还会嚷得全家人都知道，只有你，伯爵，你不是凡人，如果你没有肉体的话，我会把你称为神的，你甚至可以温和亲切地把我领到死神的门口，是不是？” 
“我的朋友，”伯爵说，“我还有一点疑虑——你是不是因为太软弱了，才这么以炫耀自己的痛苦来作为自己的骄傲？” 
“不，真的，我很平静，”莫雷尔一面说，一面伸出一只手给伯爵，“我的脉搏既不比平时快也不比平时慢。不，我只觉得我已经走到了路的尽头，没法再往前走了。你要我等待，要我希望，您知道您让我付了多大的代价吗？你这位不幸的智者。我已经等了一个月，这就是说，我被痛苦折磨了一个月！我希望过（人是一种可怜的动物）我希望过——希望什么？我说不出来，——一件神奇的事情，一件荒唐的事情，一件奇迹。只有上帝才知道那是什么，上帝把希望的那种念头和我们的理智掺杂在一起。是的，我等待过，是的，我希望过，伯爵，在我们谈话的这一刻钟里，你也许并没有意识到你一次又一次地刺痛了我的心，——因为你所说的每一个字都在向我证明我没有希望了。噢，伯爵！请让我宁静地、愉快地走进死神的怀抱里吧！”莫雷尔说这几个字的时候情绪非常激动，伯爵看了禁不住打了一个寒颤。“我的朋友，”莫雷尔继续说，“你把十月五日作为最后的期限，今天是十月五日了。”他掏出怀表。’现在是九点钟，我还有三小时。” 
“那好吧，”伯爵说，“请跟我来。” 
莫雷尔机械地跟着伯爵走，不知不觉之中，他们走进了一个岩洞。他感到脚下铺着地毯，一扇门开了，馥郁的香气包围了他，一片灿烂的灯光照花了他的眼睛。莫雷尔停住脚步，不敢再往前走，他怕他所见的一切会软化他的意志。基督山轻轻地拉了他一把。他说，“古代的罗马人被他们的皇帝尼罗王判处死刑的时候，他们就在堆满着鲜花的桌子前面坐下来，吸着玫瑰和紫堇花的香气从容赴死，我们何不学学那些罗马人，象他们那样来消磨剩下的三小时呢？” 
  
莫雷尔微笑了一下。“随便你好了，”他说，“总归是要死，是忘却，是休息，是生命的超脱，也是痛苦的超脱。”他坐下来，基督山坐在他的对面。他们是在我们以前所描写过的那间神奇的餐厅里，在那儿，石像头上所顶的篮子里，永远盛满着水果和鲜花。 
莫雷尔茫然地注视着这一切，大概什么都没有看见。“让我们象男子汉那样地谈一谈吧。”他望着伯爵说。 
“请说吧！”伯爵答道。 
“伯爵！”莫雷尔说，“在你身上集中了人类的全部知识，你给我的印象，好象是从一个比我们这个世界进步的世界里过来的。” 
“你说的话有点道理，”伯爵带着那种使他非常英俊的忧郁的微笑说，“我是从一个名叫痛苦的星球上下来的。” 
“你对我说的一切，我都相信，甚至不去追问它的含意。所以，你要我活下去，我就活下来了，你要求我要抱有希望，我几乎也抱有希望了。所以伯爵我把你当作一个已经死过一回的人，我冒昧地问一句了，死是不是痛苦的？” 
基督山带着无法形容的怜爱望着莫雷尔。“是的，”他说，——“是的，当然很痛苦，你用暴力把那执着地求生的躯壳毁掉，那当然非常痛苦。如果你用一把匕首插进你的肉里，如果你把在窗口乱窜的子弹射进你那略受震动就会痛苦万分的大脑，你当然会痛苦，你会在一种可憎的方式下抛弃生命，痛苦绝望的代价比这样昂贵的安息要好得多。” 
“是的，”莫雷尔说，“我明白，死和生一样，也有它痛苦和快乐的秘密。只是一般人不知道罢了。” 
“你说得很对，马西米兰。死，按照我们处理它的方法的好坏，可以成为一个朋友象护士轻轻地拍我们入睡一样，也可以成为一个敌人，象一个粗暴地把灵魂从肉体里拖出来的敌人一样，将来有一天，当人类再生活上上千年，当人类能够控制大自然的一切毁灭性的力量来造福人类的时候，象你刚才所说的那样，当人类已发现死的秘密的时候，那时，死亡就会象睡在心爱的人的怀抱里一样甜蜜而愉快。 
“如果你想死的时候，你是会这样地去死的，是不是，伯爵？” 
“是的。” 
莫雷尔伸出他的手。“现在我明白了。”他说，“现在我明白你为什么要带我到大海中的这个孤岛、到这个地下宫殿来的原因了，那是因为你爱我，是不是，伯爵？因为你爱我极深，所以让我甜蜜、愉快地死去，感不到任何痛苦，而且允许握着你的双手，呼唤着瓦朗蒂娜的名字，慢慢死去。” 
“是的，你猜对了，莫雷尔，”伯爵说，“那确是我的本意。” 
“谢谢！想到明天我就可以不再痛苦，我的心里感到很甜蜜。” 
“那么你什么都不挂念了？” 
“没有什么可牵挂的了。” 
“甚至对我也不牵挂吗？”伯爵非常动情地问道。 
莫雷尔那对明亮的眼睛暂黯淡了一下，但很快又恢复了那种不寻常的光泽，一滴眼泪顺着他的脸颊滚落下来。 
“什么！”伯爵说，’难道当你在这个世界上还有所挂念的时候，你还想死吗？” 
“哦，我求求你！”莫雷尔用低沉的虚弱的声音喊道，“别再说了，伯爵，别再延长我的痛苦了！” 
伯爵以为他要死的决心动摇了，这种信念使他在伊夫堡一度已经被克服的可怕的怀疑又复活了。“我正在极力要使这个人快乐，”他想道，“我要让他快乐，以此来补偿我给他带来的痛苦，现在，万一我算错了呢，万一这个人的不幸还不够重，还不配享受我即将给他的幸福呢？偏偏只有在让他幸福以后我才能忘记我给他带来的痛苦。”我该怎么办，于是他大声说，“听着，莫雷尔，我看你的确很痛苦，但你依旧相信上帝，大概是不愿意以灵魂解脱来冒险的［按基督教教义，人的生命是上帝赋予的，人没有权利可以消灭自己的生命。所以自杀的人灵魂不能得到解脱。——译注］。” 
莫雷尔戚然地笑了一下。“伯爵，”他说，“我不会多愁善感地做样子，我的灵魂早已不属于我了。” 
“马西米兰，你知道我在这个世界上没有任何亲人。我一向把你当作我儿子。为了救我的儿子，我连生命都能牺牲，更何况财产呢。” 
“你是什么意思？” 
“我的意思是：你之所以想结束生命，是因为你不懂得拥有一笔大财产可以取得一切享乐。莫雷尔，我的财产差不多有一亿，我把它都给你。有了这样的一笔财产，你就可以无往而不利，任凭自己。你有雄心吗？每一种事业你都可以干。任凭自己去干吧！不要紧——只要活下去。” 
“伯爵，你已经答应过我的了，”莫雷尔冷冷地说，他掏出怀表说，“已经十一点半了。” 
“莫雷尔，你忍心在我的家里，让我亲眼看着你去死吗？” 
“那么请让我走吧，”马西米兰说，“不然，我就要以为你爱我，不是为了我而是为了你自己了。”说着他站起身来。 
“很好，”基督山说，他的脸上顿时现出光彩，“你执意要死。是的，正如你自己所说的，你的确痛苦万分，只有奇迹才能治愈你的痛苦。坐下，莫雷尔，再等一会儿。” 
莫雷尔照他说的做了。伯爵站起身来，用一只悬在他的金链上的钥匙打开一只碗柜，从碗柜里取出一只雕镶得很精致的银质小箱子，箱子的四个角雕镂着四个仰面弯着身子的女人，象征着要飞上天堂去的天使。他把这只银箱放在桌子上，然后打开箱子，取出一只小小的金匣，一按暗纽，匣盖便自动开启了。匣里装着一种稠腻的胶冻，因为匣上装饰着金子、翡翠、红宝石和蓝宝石，映得匣里五彩缤纷，所以看不清这种胶冻的颜色。伯爵用一只镀金的银匙把这种东西舀了一小匙递给莫雷尔，并用坚定的目光盯住他。这时可以看出那种东西是淡绿色的。 
“就是你要的东西，”他说，“也就是我答应给你的东西。” 
“我从我的心坎里感谢你。”年轻人从伯爵手里接过那只银匙说。 
基督山另外又拿了一只银匙浸到金匣里。 
“你要干什么，我的朋友？”莫雷尔抓住他地手问道。 
“莫雷尔，”他微笑着说，“愿上帝宽恕我！我也象你一样的厌倦了生命，既然有这样一个机会。” 
“慢来！”那青年人说。“你，这个世界上有你爱的别人，别人也爱着你，你是有信心和希望的。哦，别跟我一样，在你，这是一种罪。永别了，我的高尚而慷慨的朋友，永别了，我会把你为我所做的一切去告诉瓦朗蒂娜。” 
于是，他一面按住伯爵的手，一面慢慢地，但却毫不犹豫地吞下了基督山给他的那种神秘的东西。然后两个人都沉默了。哑巴阿里小心地拿来烟管和咖啡以后便退了出去。渐渐地，石像手里的那几盏灯渐渐地变暗了，莫雷尔觉得房间里的香气似乎也没有以前那样强烈了。基督山坐在他对面的阴影里看着他，莫雷尔只看见伯爵那一对发光的眼睛。一阵巨大的忧伤向年轻人袭来，他的手渐渐放松，房间里的东西渐渐丧失了它们的形状和色彩，昏昏沉沉地，他似乎看见墙上出现了门和门帘。 
“朋友，”他喊道，“我觉得我是在死了，谢谢！”他努力想伸出他的手，但那只手却无力地垂落在他的身边。这时，他似乎觉得基督山在那儿微笑，不是看透他心里的秘密时那种奇怪可怕的微笑，而是象一位父亲对一个婴孩的那种慈爱的微笑。同时，伯爵在他的眼睛里变得高大起来，几乎比平常高大了一倍，呈现在红色的帷幕上，他那乌黑的头发掠到后面，他巍巍然地站在那儿，象是一位将在末日审判时惩办恶人的天使一样。莫雷尔软弱无力地倒在圈椅里，一种惬意的麻木感渗入到每一条血管理，他的脑子里呈现出变幻莫测的念头，象是万花筒里的图案一样。他软弱无力地、失去了对外界事物的知觉。他似乎已进入临死以前那种漠然的昏迷状态里了。他希望再紧握一次伯爵的手，但他的手却丝毫不能动弹。他希望同伯爵作最后的告别，但他的舌头笨拙地堵住了他的喉咙，象是一尊雕像嘴巴里的石块一样。他那倦息的眼睛不由自主地闭上了。可是，从他的垂下的眼睑里望出去，他依稀看见一个人影移动，尽管他觉得周围一片昏暗，他还是认出了这个人影是伯爵，他刚去打开了一扇门。 
隔壁的房间说得更准确些，是一座神奇的宫殿，立刻有一片灿烂的灯光射进莫雷尔所在大厅的门口。她脸色苍白，带着甜蜜的微笑，象是一位赶走复仇天使的慈爱天使一样，“莫非是天国的大门已经为我打开了吗？”那个垂死的人想道，“那位天使真象是我失去的那位姑娘啊，”基督山向那青年女子示意到莫雷尔奄奄待毙的那张圈椅旁边来。她合拢双手，脸上带着一个微笑向他走过去。 
“瓦朗蒂娜！瓦朗蒂娜！”莫雷尔从灵魂的深处喊道，但他的嘴里却发不出一点声音来。他的全部精力似乎都已集中到内心的激情上去了他叹息了一声，闭上了眼睛。瓦朗蒂娜向他冲过去，他的嘴唇还在翕动。 
“他在喊你，”伯爵说，——“你把你的命运寄托在他的身上，死神却想把你们拆开。幸亏我在那儿。我战胜了死神。瓦朗蒂娜，从此以后，你们在人世间永远再不分离了，因为他为了找你已经勇敢地经过死亡了。要是没有我，你们都已死了，我使你们两个重新团圆。愿上帝把我所救的两条性命记在我的账上” 
瓦朗蒂娜抓住伯爵的手，带着一种无法抑制的喜悦的冲动把那只手捧到她的嘴唇上吻着。 
“哦，再谢谢我吧！”伯爵说，“请你不厌其烦地告诉我：是我恢复了你们的幸福，你不知道我多么需要能确信这一点啊！” 
“哦，是的，是的，我真心诚意地感谢你！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“假如你怀疑我这种感激的诚意，那么去找海黛吧！去问问我那亲爱的姐姐海黛吧，自从我们离开法国以来，她就一直和我在讲你，让我耐心地等待今天这个幸福的日子。” 
“那么，你爱海黛！”基督山用一种抑制不住的的激动的情绪问。 
“哦，是的！我一心一意地爱她。” 
“哦，那么！听着，瓦朗蒂娜，”伯爵说，“我想求你做件事。” 
“我？天哪，我能有这样的殊荣吗？” 
“是的，你刚才称呼海黛叫姐姐。让她真的做你的姐姐吧，瓦朗蒂娜，把你对我的全部感激都给他。请和莫雷尔好好保护她，因为，“伯爵的声音因激动而哽咽了，，“从此以后，她在这个世界上就孤苦伶仃一个人了。” 
“孤苦伶仃的一个人！”伯爵身后的一个声音复述说。“为什么呢？” 
基督山转过身去，海黛脸色苍白而冷峻不动地站在那儿，带着一种惊讶奇怪的表情望着伯爵。 
“因为明天，海黛，你就自由了，可以在社会上取得你应有的地位，你是位公主。你是一位王子的女儿！我要把你父亲的财富和名誉都还给你。” 
海黛的脸色更惨白，她把她那两只洁白的手举向天空，含着泪用嘶哑的声音喊道：“那么你要离开我了，大人？” 
“海黛！海黛！你还年轻，你很美，忘掉我的名字，去过幸福的生活吧！” 
“很好，”海黛说，“你的命令是应该服从的大人。我将忘掉你的名字，去过幸福的生活。”她向后退一步，准备离去。 
“哦，天呀！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，她这时已靠在莫雷尔的身旁，让他的头靠在她的肩上，“你难道看不见她的脸色是多么的苍白吗？你看不见她有多么痛苦吗？” 
海黛带着一种令人心碎的表情答道：“你为什么希望他明白我是否痛苦呢？我的妹妹？他是我的主人，而我是他的奴隶，他有权力看不到这些的。” 
伯爵听着这拨动他最隐秘的心弦的声音，当他的目光与姑娘的目光相对他感到自己承受不住那耀眼的光芒了。“哦，上帝，”他喊道，“你让我在心里隐约想过的事情难道是真的？海黛，你真的觉得留在我身边很幸福吗？” 
“我还年轻，”海黛温柔地答道，“我爱这个你给我安排得这样甜蜜的生活，我不想去死。” 
“那么你的意思是，如果我离开你，海黛——” 
“是的，我就会死，大人。” 
“那么你爱我吗？” 
“噢，瓦朗蒂娜！他问我是否爱他。瓦朗蒂娜，告诉他你是否爱马西米兰。” 
伯爵觉得他的心在胀大，在狂跳，他张开两臂，海黛高叫一声，扑进他怀里。“噢，是的！”她喊道，“我爱你！我爱你象人家爱一位父亲、兄弟和丈夫一样！我爱你，就象爱生命，爱上帝一样。因为你是世界上最好，最崇高的人。” 
“那么，愿一切都如你所希望的，我的天使呀，上帝激励我与敌人奋斗，给了我胜利又不肯让我以苦修生活来结束我的胜利，我曾想惩罚我自己，但上帝宽恕了我！那么爱我吧，海黛！有谁知道呢？也许你的爱会使我忘记那一切该忘记的事情。” 
“你是什么意思，大人？” 
“我的意思是：你的一句话比二十年漫长的经验给了我更多的启示，这个世界里我只有你了，海黛。因为你，我又将重新开始生活，有了你，我就又可以感受痛苦和幸福了。” 
“你听到他说的话吗，瓦朗蒂娜？”海黛喊道，“他说，有了我他又可以感到痛苦——可我，为了他是宁愿献出自己的生命的。” 
伯爵静静地想了一会儿。“难道我已发现了真理了吗？”他说，“但不论这究竟是补偿或是惩罚，总之，我接受了我的命运。来吧，海黛，来吧！”于是他搂住那姑娘的腰，和瓦朗蒂娜握了握手，便走开了。 
又过了大约一小时内，瓦朗蒂娜焦急地默不作声地凝视着莫雷尔，终于，她觉得他的心跳动了，他的嘴里吐出一丝微弱的气息，这气息宣布生命又回到年轻人的肌体里了。不含任何表情的，然后渐渐恢复视觉了，随着视觉的恢复，烦恼又来了。“哦”，他绝望地喊道，“伯爵骗了我，我还活着。” 
于是他伸手到桌子上，抓起一把小刀。 
“亲爱的！”瓦朗蒂娜带着可爱的微笑喊道，“醒一醒看看我呀。” 
莫雷尔发出一声大叫，他如痴如狂充满疑惑、象是看到了天堂的景象，感到头晕目眩似的跪了下去。 
第二天早晨，在天色破晓的时候，瓦朗蒂娜和莫雷尔手挽着手的海边散步，瓦朗蒂娜把一切都告诉了莫雷尔。最后，以及怎么奇迹般让她知道事情的真相，他如何揭露那桩罪行，将她救活，而别人则都认为她死了。 
他们刚才是发现了岩洞的门开着，从洞门里出来的，此刻最后的几颗夜星依旧在那淡青色的晨空上烁烁地发光。这时莫雷尔看见一个人站在岩石堆中，那个人象在等待他们招呼，他把那个人指给瓦朗蒂娜看。 
“啊！那是贾可布，”她说、“是游船的船长。”于是她招手叫他走过来。 
“你有事和我们说话吗？莫雷尔问道。 
“伯爵有一封信要给你们。” 
“伯爵的信？”他们俩都惊异地说。 
“是的，请看吧。” 
莫雷尔拆开信念道：—— 
“我亲爱的马西米兰，——岛边为你们停着一只小帆船。贾可布会带你们到里窝去，那里诺瓦蒂埃先生正在等着他的孙女儿，他希望在他领他的孙女到圣坛前去以前，能先为你们祝福，我的朋友，这个洞里的一切，我在香榭丽舍大道的房子，以及我在黎港的别墅，都是爱德蒙·唐太斯送给莫雷尔船主的儿子的结婚礼物。也请维尔福小姐接受其中的一半，因为，她的父亲现在已成了一个疯子，她的弟弟已在九月间和他的母亲一同去世，我想请她把她从她父亲和她弟弟那儿继承来的那笔财产捐赠给穷人。莫雷尔，告诉那位你将终生眷顾的天使，请她时时为一个人祈祷，那个人，象撒旦一样，一度曾自以为可与上帝匹敌；但现在，他已带着基督徒的自卑承认只有上帝拥有至高无上的权力和无穷的智慧。或许那些祈祷可以减轻他心里所感到的内疚。至于你，莫雷尔，我对你说一句知心话。世界上既无所谓快乐或也无所谓痛苦；只有一种状况与另一种状况的比较，如此而已。只有体验过不幸的人才能体会最大的快乐。莫雷尔，我们必须体验过死的痛苦，才能体会到生的快乐。 
所以，我心爱的孩子们，享受生命的快乐吧！永远不要忘记，直至上帝揭露人的未来图景的那一天以前，人类的一切智慧就包含在这四个字里面：‘等待’和‘希望’。 
你的朋友基督山伯爵爱德蒙·唐太斯。” 
看了这封信，瓦朗蒂娜才知道她父亲的疯和她弟弟的死，在读这封信的时候，她的脸色变得苍白，从胸膛里发出一声悲痛的叹息，悄无声息但也同样令人心碎的泪珠从她的脸颊上滚下来，她的幸福是付出了昂贵的代价的。 
莫雷尔不安地向四周张望。“但是，”他说，“伯爵太慷慨啦，哪怕我只有微薄的财产，瓦朗蒂娜也会很满足的。伯爵在哪儿，朋友？领我去见他。” 
贾可布伸手指着远方的地平线。 
“你是什么意思？”瓦朗蒂娜问道，“伯爵在哪儿？海黛在哪儿？” 
“瞧！”贾可布说。 
两个年轻人的眼睛向水手所指的地方望去，在远处海天相接的地方，他们看见一小片白色的帆，小得象海鸟的翅膀。 
“他走了！”莫雷尔说，“他走了！别了，我的朋友！别了，我的父亲！” 
“他走了！”瓦朗蒂娜也低声地说，“别了，我的朋友！别了，我的姐姐！” 
“有谁知道，我们是否还能再见到他呢？”莫雷尔含着眼泪说。 
“我的朋友，”瓦朗蒂娜答道，“伯爵刚才不是告诉我们了吗？人类的一切智慧是包含在这四个字里面的：‘等待’和‘希望’！” 
（全书完）