English
Thedayfollowingthatonwhichtheconversationwehaverelatedtookplace,theCountofMonteCristosetoutforAuteuil,accompaniedbyAliandseveralattendants,andalsotakingwithhimsomehorseswhosequalitieshewasdesirousofascertaining.
Hewasinducedtoundertakethisjourney,ofwhichthedaybeforehehadnoteventhoughtandwhichhadnotoccurredtoAndreaeither,bythearrivalofBertucciofromNormandywithintelligencerespectingthehouseandsloop.
Thehousewasready,andthesloopwhichhadarrivedaweekbeforelayatanchorinasmallcreekwithhercrewofsixmen,whohadobservedalltherequisiteformalitiesandwerereadyagaintoputtosea.
ThecountpraisedBertuccio’szeal,andorderedhimtoprepareforaspeedydeparture,ashisstayinFrancewouldnotbeprolongedmorethanamonth.
“Now,”saidhe,“ImayrequiretogoinonenightfromParistoTreport;leteightfreshhorsesbeinreadinessontheroad,whichwillenablemetogofiftyleaguesintenhours.”
“Yourhighnesshadalreadyexpressedthatwish,”saidBertuccio,“andthehorsesareready.
Ihaveboughtthem,andstationedthemmyselfatthemostdesirableposts,thatis,invillages,wherenoonegenerallystops.”
“That’swell,”saidMonteCristo;“Iremainhereadayortwo—arrangeaccordingly.”
AsBertucciowasleavingtheroomtogivetherequisiteorders,Baptistinopenedthedoor:heheldaletteronasilverwaiter.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”askedthecount,seeinghimcoveredwithdust;“Ididnotsendforyou,Ithink?”
Baptistin,withoutanswering,approachedthecount,andpresentedtheletter.“Importantandurgent,”saidhe.Thecountopenedtheletter,andread:—
“M.deMonteCristoisapprisedthatthisnightamanwillenterhishouseintheChamps–Elyseeswiththeintentionofcarryingoffsomepaperssupposedtobeinthesecretaryinthedressing–room.
Thecount’swell–knowncouragewillrenderunnecessarytheaidofthepolice,whoseinterferencemightseriouslyaffecthimwhosendsthisadvice.
Thecount,byanyopeningfromthebedroom,orbyconcealinghimselfinthedressing–room,wouldbeabletodefendhispropertyhimself.
Manyattendantsorapparentprecautionswouldpreventthevillainfromtheattempt,andM.deMonteCristowouldlosetheopportunityofdiscoveringanenemywhomchancehasrevealedtohimwhonowsendsthiswarningtothecount,—awarninghemightnotbeabletosendanothertime,ifthisfirstattemptshouldfailandanotherbemade.”
Thecount’sfirstideawasthatthiswasanartifice—agrossdeception,todrawhisattentionfromaminordangerinordertoexposehimtoagreater.
Hewasonthepointofsendingthelettertothecommissaryofpolice,notwithstandingtheadviceofhisanonymousfriend,orperhapsbecauseofthatadvice,whensuddenlytheideaoccurredtohimthatitmightbesomepersonalenemy,whomhealoneshouldrecognizeandoverwhom,ifsuchwerethecase,healonewouldgainanyadvantage,asFiesco[*]haddoneovertheMoorwhowouldhavekilledhim.
WeknowtheCount’svigorousanddaringmind,denyinganythingtobeimpossible,withthatenergywhichmarksthegreatman.
Fromhispastlife,fromhisresolutiontoshrinkfromnothing,thecounthadacquiredaninconceivablerelishforthecontestsinwhichhehadengaged,sometimesagainstnature,thatistosay,againstGod,andsometimesagainsttheworld,thatis,againstthedevil.
“Theydonotwantmypapers,”saidMonteCristo,“theywanttokillme;theyarenorobbers,butassassins.
Iwillnotallowtheprefectofpolicetointerferewithmyprivateaffairs.
Iamrichenough,forsooth,todistributehisauthorityonthisoccasion.”
ThecountrecalledBaptistin,whohadlefttheroomafterdeliveringtheletter.
“ReturntoParis,”saidhe;“assembletheservantswhoremainthere.IwantallmyhouseholdatAuteuil.”
*TheGenoeseconspirator.
“Butwillnooneremaininthehouse,mylord?”askedBaptistin.
“Yes,theporter.”
“Mylordwillrememberthatthelodgeisatadistancefromthehouse.”
“Well?”
“Thehousemightbestrippedwithouthishearingtheleastnoise.”
“Bywhom?”
“Bythieves.”
“Youareafool,M.Baptistin.Thievesmightstripthehouse—itwouldannoymelessthantobedisobeyed.”Baptistinbowed.
“Youunderstandme?”saidthecount.“Bringyourcomradeshere,oneandall;butleteverythingremainasusual,onlyclosetheshuttersofthegroundfloor.”
“Andthoseofthesecondfloor?”
“Youknowtheyareneverclosed.Go!”
Thecountsignifiedhisintentionofdiningalone,andthatnoonebutAlishouldattendhim.
Havingdinedwithhisusualtranquillityandmoderation,thecount,makingasignaltoAlitofollowhim,wentoutbytheside–gateandonreachingtheBoisdeBoulogneturned,apparentlywithoutdesigntowardsParisandattwilight;foundhimselfoppositehishouseintheChamps–Elysees.
Allwasdark;onesolitary,feeblelightwasburningintheporter’slodge,aboutfortypacesdistantfromthehouse,asBaptistinhadsaid.
MonteCristoleanedagainstatree,andwiththatscrutinizingglancewhichwassorarelydeceived,lookedupanddowntheavenue,examinedthepassers–by,andcarefullylookeddowntheneighboringstreets,toseethatnoonewasconcealed.
Tenminutespassedthus,andhewasconvincedthatnoonewaswatchinghim.
Hehastenedtotheside–doorwithAli,enteredhurriedly,andbytheservants’staircase,ofwhichhehadthekey,gainedhisbedroomwithoutopeningordisarrangingasinglecurtain,withouteventheporterhavingtheslightestsuspicionthatthehouse,whichhesupposedempty,containeditschiefoccupant.
Arrivedinhisbedroom,thecountmotionedtoAlitostop;thenhepassedintothedressing–room,whichheexamined.
Everythingappearedasusual—theprecioussecretaryinitsplace,andthekeyinthesecretary.
Hedoublelockedit,tookthekey,returnedtothebedroomdoor,removedthedoublestapleofthebolt,andwentin.
MeanwhileAlihadprocuredthearmsthecountrequired—namely,ashortcarbineandapairofdouble–barrelledpistols,withwhichassureanaimmightbetakenaswithasingle–barrelledone.
Thusarmed,thecountheldthelivesoffivemeninhishands.Itwasabouthalf–pastnine.
ThecountandAliateinhasteacrustofbreadanddrankaglassofSpanishwine;thenMonteCristoslippedasideoneofthemovablepanels,whichenabledhimtoseeintotheadjoiningroom.
Hehadwithinhisreachhispistolsandcarbine,andAli,standingnearhim,heldoneofthesmallArabianhatchets,whoseformhasnotvariedsincetheCrusades.
Throughoneofthewindowsofthebedroom,onalinewiththatinthedressing–room,thecountcouldseeintothestreet.
Twohourspassedthus.Itwasintenselydark;stillAli,thankstohiswildnature,andthecount,thanksdoubtlesstohislongconfinement,coulddistinguishinthedarknesstheslightestmovementofthetrees.
Thelittlelightinthelodgehadlongbeenextinct.
Itmightbeexpectedthattheattack,ifindeedanattackwasprojected,wouldbemadefromthestaircaseofthegroundfloor,andnotfromawindow;inMonteCristo’sopinion,thevillainssoughthislife,nothismoney.
Itwouldbehisbedroomtheywouldattack,andtheymustreachitbythebackstaircase,orbythewindowinthedressing–room.
TheclockoftheInvalidesstruckaquartertotwelve;thewestwindboreonitsmoistenedguststhedolefulvibrationofthethreestrokes.
Asthelaststrokediedaway,thecountthoughtheheardaslightnoiseinthedressing–room;thisfirstsound,orratherthisfirstgrinding,wasfollowedbyasecond,thenathird;atthefourth,thecountknewwhattoexpect.
Afirmandwell–practisedhandwasengagedincuttingthefoursidesofapaneofglasswithadiamond.
Thecountfelthisheartbeatmorerapidly.
Inuredasmenmaybetodanger,forewarnedastheymaybeofperil,theyunderstand,bytheflutteringoftheheartandtheshudderingoftheframe,theenormousdifferencebetweenadreamandareality,betweentheprojectandtheexecution.
However,MonteCristoonlymadeasigntoappriseAli,who,understandingthatdangerwasapproachingfromtheotherside,drewnearertohismaster.
MonteCristowaseagertoascertainthestrengthandnumberofhisenemies.
Thewindowwhencethenoiseproceededwasoppositetheopeningbywhichthecountcouldseeintothedressing–room.
Hefixedhiseyesonthatwindow—hedistinguishedashadowinthedarkness;thenoneofthepanesbecamequiteopaque,asifasheetofpaperwerestuckontheoutside,thenthesquarecrackedwithoutfalling.
Throughtheopeninganarmwaspassedtofindthefastening,thenasecond;thewindowturnedonitshinges,andamanentered.Hewasalone.
“That’sadaringrascal,”whisperedthecount.
AtthatmomentAlitouchedhimslightlyontheshoulder.
Heturned;Alipointedtothewindowoftheroominwhichtheywere,facingthestreet.“Isee!”
saidhe,“therearetwoofthem;onedoestheworkwhiletheotherstandsguard.”
HemadeasigntoAlinottolosesightofthemaninthestreet,andturnedtotheoneinthedressing–room.
Theglass–cutterhadentered,andwasfeelinghisway,hisarmsstretchedoutbeforehim.
Atlastheappearedtohavemadehimselffamiliarwithhissurroundings.
Thereweretwodoors;heboltedthemboth.
Whenhedrewneartothebedroomdoor,MonteCristoexpectedthathewascomingin,andraisedoneofhispistols;buthesimplyheardthesoundoftheboltsslidingintheircopperrings.Itwasonlyaprecaution.
Thenocturnalvisitor,ignorantofthefactthatthecounthadremovedthestaples,mightnowthinkhimselfathome,andpursuehispurposewithfullsecurity.
Aloneandfreetoactashewished,themanthendrewfromhispocketsomethingwhichthecountcouldnotdiscern,placeditonastand,thenwentstraighttothesecretary,feltthelock,andcontrarytohisexpectationfoundthatthekeywasmissing.
Buttheglass–cutterwasaprudentmanwhohadprovidedforallemergencies.
Thecountsoonheardtherattlingofabunchofskeletonkeys,suchasthelocksmithbringswhencalledtoforcealock,andwhichthievescallnightingales,doubtlessfromthemusicoftheirnightlysongwhentheygrindagainstthebolt.
“Ah,ha,”whisperedMonteCristowithasmileofdisappointment,“heisonlyathief.”
Butthemaninthedarkcouldnotfindtherightkey.
Hereachedtheinstrumenthehadplacedonthestand,touchedaspring,andimmediatelyapalelight,justbrightenoughtorenderobjectsdistinct,wasreflectedonhishandsandcountenance.
“Byheavens,”exclaimedMonteCristo,startingback,“itis”—
Aliraisedhishatchet.“Don’tstir,”whisperedMonteCristo,“andputdownyourhatchet;weshallrequirenoarms.”
Thenheaddedsomewordsinalowtone,fortheexclamationwhichsurprisehaddrawnfromthecount,faintasithadbeen,hadstartledthemanwhoremainedintheposeoftheoldknife–grinder.
Itwasanorderthecounthadjustgiven,forimmediatelyAliwentnoiselessly,andreturned,bearingablackdressandathree–corneredhat.
MeanwhileMonteCristohadrapidlytakenoffhisgreat–coat,waistcoat,andshirt,andonemightdistinguishbytheglimmeringthroughtheopenpanelthatheworeaplianttunicofsteelmail,ofwhichthelastinFrance,wheredaggersarenolongerdreaded,waswornbyKingLouisXVI.,whofearedthedaggerathisbreast,andwhoseheadwascleftwithahatchet.
Thetunicsoondisappearedunderalongcassock,asdidhishairunderapriest’swig;thethree–corneredhatoverthiseffectuallytransformedthecountintoanabbe.
Theman,hearingnothingmore,stooderect,andwhileMonteCristowascompletinghisdisguisehadadvancedstraighttothesecretary,whoselockwasbeginningtocrackunderhisnightingale.
“Tryagain,”whisperedthecount,whodependedonthesecretspring,whichwasunknowntothepicklock,cleverashemightbe—”tryagain,youhaveafewminutes’workthere.”Andheadvancedtothewindow.
Themanwhomhehadseenseatedonafencehadgotdown,andwasstillpacingthestreet;but,strangeasitappeared,hecarednotforthosewhomightpassfromtheavenueoftheChamps–ElyseesorbytheFaubourgSt.Honore;hisattentionwasengrossedwithwhatwaspassingatthecount’s,andhisonlyaimappearedtobetodiscerneverymovementinthedressing–room.
MonteCristosuddenlystruckhisfingeronhisforeheadandasmilepassedoverhislips;thendrawingneartoAli,hewhispered,—
“Remainhere,concealedinthedark,andwhatevernoiseyouhear,whateverpasses,onlycomeinorshowyourselfifIcallyou.”Alibowedintokenofstrictobedience.
MonteCristothendrewalightedtaperfromacloset,andwhenthethiefwasdeeplyengagedwithhislock,silentlyopenedthedoor,takingcarethatthelightshouldshinedirectlyonhisface.
Thedooropenedsoquietlythatthethiefheardnosound;but,tohisastonishment,theroomwassuddenlyilluminated.Heturned.
“Ah,good–evening,mydearM.Caderousse,”saidMonteCristo;“whatareyoudoinghere,atsuchanhour?”
“TheAbbeBusoni!”exclaimedCaderousse;and,notknowinghowthisstrangeapparitioncouldhaveenteredwhenhehadboltedthedoors,heletfallhisbunchofkeys,andremainedmotionlessandstupefied.
ThecountplacedhimselfbetweenCaderousseandthewindow,thuscuttingofffromthethiefhisonlychanceofretreat.“TheAbbeBusoni!”
repeatedCaderousse,fixinghishaggardgazeonthecount.
“Yes,undoubtedly,theAbbeBusonihimself,”repliedMonteCristo.
“AndIamverygladyourecognizeme,dearM.Caderousse;itprovesyouhaveagoodmemory,foritmustbeabouttenyearssincewelastmet.”
ThiscalmnessofBusoni,combinedwithhisironyandboldness,staggeredCaderousse.
“Theabbe,theabbe!”murmuredhe,clinchinghisfists,andhisteethchattering.
“SoyouwouldrobtheCountofMonteCristo?”continuedthefalseabbe.
“Reverendsir,”murmuredCaderousse,seekingtoregainthewindow,whichthecountpitilesslyblocked—”reverendsir,Idon’tknow—believeme—Itakemyoath”—
“Apaneofglassout,”continuedthecount,“adarklantern,abunchoffalsekeys,asecretaryhalfforced—itistolerablyevident”—
Caderoussewaschoking;helookedaroundforsomecornertohidein,somewayofescape.
“Come,come,”continuedthecount,“Iseeyouarestillthesame,—anassassin.”
“Reverendsir,sinceyouknoweverything,youknowitwasnotI—itwasLaCarconte;thatwasprovedatthetrial,sinceIwasonlycondemnedtothegalleys.”
“Isyourtime,then,expired,sinceIfindyouinafairwaytoreturnthere?”
“No,reverendsir;Ihavebeenliberatedbysomeone.”
“Thatsomeonehasdonesocietyagreatkindness.”
“Ah,”saidCaderousse,“Ihadpromised”—
“Andyouarebreakingyourpromise!”interruptedMonteCristo.
“Alas,yes!”saidCaderousseveryuneasily.
“Abadrelapse,thatwillleadyou,ifImistakenot,tothePlacedeGreve.Somuchtheworse,somuchtheworse—diavolo,astheysayinmycountry.”
“Reverendsir,Iamimpelled”—
“Everycriminalsaysthesamething.”
“Poverty”—
“Pshaw!”saidBusonidisdainfully;“povertymaymakeamanbeg,stealaloafofbreadatabaker’sdoor,butnotcausehimtoopenasecretaryinahousesupposedtobeinhabited.
AndwhenthejewellerJohanneshadjustpaidyou40,000.
francsforthediamondIhadgivenyou,andyoukilledhimtogetthediamondandthemoneyboth,wasthatalsopoverty?”
“Pardon,reverendsir,”saidCaderousse;“youhavesavedmylifeonce,savemeagain!”
“Thatisbutpoorencouragement.”
“Areyoualone,reverendsir,orhaveyoutheresoldiersreadytoseizeme?”
“Iamalone,”saidtheabbe,“andIwillagainhavepityonyou,andwillletyouescape,attheriskofthefreshmiseriesmyweaknessmayleadto,ifyoutellmethetruth.”
“Ah,reverendsir,”criedCaderousse,claspinghishands,anddrawingnearertoMonteCristo,“Imayindeedsayyouaremydeliverer!”
“Youmeantosayyouhavebeenfreedfromconfinement?”
“Yes,thatistrue,reverendsir.”
“Whowasyourliberator?”
“AnEnglishman.”
“Whatwashisname?”
“LordWilmore.”
“Iknowhim;Ishallknowifyoulie.”
“Ah,reverendsir,Itellyouthesimpletruth.”
“WasthisEnglishmanprotectingyou?”
“No,notme,butayoungCorsican,mycompanion.”
“WhatwasthisyoungCorsican’sname?”
“Benedetto.”
“IsthathisChristianname?”
“Hehadnoother;hewasafoundling.”
“Thenthisyoungmanescapedwithyou?”
“Hedid.”
“Inwhatway?”
“WewereworkingatSt.Mandrier,nearToulon.DoyouknowSt.Mandrier?”
“Ido.”
“Inthehourofrest,betweennoonandoneo’clock”—
“Galley–slaveshavinganapafterdinner!Wemaywellpitythepoorfellows!”saidtheabbe.
“Nay,”saidCaderousse,“onecan’talwayswork—oneisnotadog.”
“Somuchthebetterforthedogs,”saidMonteCristo.
“Whiletherestslept,then,wewentawayashortdistance;weseveredourfetterswithafiletheEnglishmanhadgivenus,andswamaway.”
“AndwhatisbecomeofthisBenedetto?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Yououghttoknow.”
“No,intruth;wepartedatHyeres.”And,togivemoreweighttohisprotestation,Caderousseadvancedanothersteptowardstheabbe,whoremainedmotionlessinhisplace,ascalmasever,andpursuinghisinterrogation.
“Youlie,”saidtheAbbeBusoni,withatoneofirresistibleauthority.
“Reverendsir!”
“Youlie!Thismanisstillyourfriend,andyou,perhaps,makeuseofhimasyouraccomplice.”
“Oh,reverendsir!”
“SinceyouleftToulonwhathaveyoulivedon?Answerme!”
“OnwhatIcouldget.”
“Youlie,”repeatedtheabbeathirdtime,withastillmoreimperativetone.Caderousse,terrified,lookedatthecount.“Youhavelivedonthemoneyhehasgivenyou.”
“True,”saidCaderousse;“Benedettohasbecomethesonofagreatlord.”
“Howcanhebethesonofagreatlord?”
“Anaturalson.”
“Andwhatisthatgreatlord’sname?”
“TheCountofMonteCristo,theverysameinwhosehouseweare.”
“Benedettothecount’sson?”repliedMonteCristo,astonishedinhisturn.
“Well,Ishouldthinkso,sincethecounthasfoundhimafalsefather—sincethecountgiveshimfourthousandfrancsamonth,andleaveshim500,000francsinhiswill.”
“Ah,yes,”saidthefactitiousabbe,whobegantounderstand;“andwhatnamedoestheyoungmanbearmeanwhile?”
“AndreaCavalcanti.”
“Isit,then,thatyoungmanwhommyfriendtheCountofMonteCristohasreceivedintohishouse,andwhoisgoingtomarryMademoiselleDanglars?”
“Exactly.”
“Andyousufferthat,youwretch—you,whoknowhislifeandhiscrime?”
“WhyshouldIstandinacomrade’sway?”saidCaderousse.
“Youareright;itisnotyouwhoshouldappriseM.Danglars,itisI.”
“Donotdoso,reverendsir.”
“Whynot?”
“Becauseyouwouldbringustoruin.”
“AndyouthinkthattosavesuchvillainsasyouIwillbecomeanabettoroftheirplot,anaccompliceintheircrimes?”
“Reverendsir,”saidCaderousse,drawingstillnearer.
“Iwillexposeall.”
“Towhom?”
“ToM.Danglars.”
“Byheaven!”criedCaderousse,drawingfromhiswaistcoatanopenknife,andstrikingthecountinthebreast,“youshalldisclosenothing,reverendsir!”
ToCaderousse’sgreatastonishment,theknife,insteadofpiercingthecount’sbreast,flewbackblunted.
Atthesamemomentthecountseizedwithhislefthandtheassassin’swrist,andwrungitwithsuchstrengththattheknifefellfromhisstiffenedfingers,andCaderousseutteredacryofpain.
Butthecount,disregardinghiscry,continuedtowringthebandit’swrist,until,hisarmbeingdislocated,hefellfirstonhisknees,thenflatonthefloor.
Thecountthenplacedhisfootonhishead,saying,“Iknownotwhatrestrainsmefromcrushingthyskull,rascal.”
“Ah,mercy—mercy!”criedCaderousse.Thecountwithdrewhisfoot.“Rise!”saidhe.Caderousserose.
“Whatawristyouhave,reverendsir!”saidCaderousse,strokinghisarm,allbruisedbythefleshypincerswhichhadheldit;“whatawrist!”
“Silence!Godgivesmestrengthtoovercomeawildbeastlikeyou;inthenameofthatGodIact,—rememberthat,wretch,—andtosparetheeatthismomentisstillservinghim.”
“Oh!”saidCaderousse,groaningwithpain.
“Takethispenandpaper,andwritewhatIdictate.”
“Idon’tknowhowtowrite,reverendsir.”
“Youlie!Takethispen,andwrite!”Caderousse,awedbythesuperiorpoweroftheabbe,satdownandwrote:—
Sir,—Themanwhomyouarereceivingatyourhouse,andtowhomyouintendtomarryyourdaughter,isafelonwhoescapedwithmefromconfinementatToulon.HewasNo.59,andINo.58.
HewascalledBenedetto,butheisignorantofhisrealname,havingneverknownhisparents.
“Signit!”continuedthecount.
“Butwouldyouruinme?”
“IfIsoughtyourruin,fool,Ishoulddragyoutothefirstguard–house;besides,whenthatnoteisdelivered,inallprobabilityyouwillhavenomoretofear.Signit,then!”
Caderoussesignedit.“Theaddress,‘TomonsieurtheBaronDanglars,banker,RuedelaChausseed’Antin.’”Caderoussewrotetheaddress.Theabbetookthenote.“Now,”saidhe,“thatsuffices—begone!”
“Whichway?”
“Thewayyoucame.”
“Youwishmetogetoutatthatwindow?”
“Yougotinverywell.”
“Oh,youhavesomedesignagainstme,reverendsir.”
“Idiot!whatdesigncanIhave?”
“Why,then,notletmeoutbythedoor?”
“Whatwouldbetheadvantageofwakingtheporter?”—
“Ah,reverendsir,tellme,doyouwishmedead?”
“IwishwhatGodwills.”
“ButswearthatyouwillnotstrikemeasIgodown.”
“Cowardlyfool!”
“Whatdoyouintenddoingwithme?”
“IaskyouwhatcanIdo?Ihavetriedtomakeyouahappyman,andyouhaveturnedoutamurderer.”
“Oh,monsieur,”saidCaderousse,“makeonemoreattempt—trymeoncemore!”
“Iwill,”saidthecount.“Listen—youknowifImaybereliedon.”
“Yes,”saidCaderousse.
“Ifyouarrivesafelyathome”—
“WhathaveItofear,exceptfromyou?”
“Ifyoureachyourhomesafely,leaveParis,leaveFrance,andwhereveryoumaybe,solongasyouconductyourselfwell,Iwillsendyouasmallannuity;for,ifyoureturnhomesafely,then”—
“Then?”askedCaderousse,shuddering.
“ThenIshallbelieveGodhasforgivenyou,andIwillforgiveyoutoo.”
“AstrueasIamaChristian,”stammeredCaderousse,“youwillmakemedieoffright!”
“Nowbegone,”saidthecount,pointingtothewindow.
Caderousse,scarcelyyetrelyingonthispromise,puthislegsoutofthewindowandstoodontheladder.
“Nowgodown,”saidtheabbe,foldinghisarms.
Understandinghehadnothingmoretofearfromhim,Caderoussebegantogodown.
Thenthecountbroughtthetapertothewindow,thatitmightbeseenintheChamps–Elyseesthatamanwasgettingoutofthewindowwhileanotherheldalight.
“Whatareyoudoing,reverendsir?Supposeawatchmanshouldpass?”Andheblewoutthelight.
Hethendescended,butitwasonlywhenhefelthisfoottouchthegroundthathewassatisfiedofhissafety.
MonteCristoreturnedtohisbedroom,and,glancingrapidlyfromthegardentothestreet,hesawfirstCaderousse,whoafterwalkingtotheendofthegarden,fixedhisladderagainstthewallatadifferentpartfromwherehecamein.
Thecountthenlookingoverintothestreet,sawthemanwhoappearedtobewaitingruninthesamedirection,andplacehimselfagainsttheangleofthewallwhereCaderoussewouldcomeover.
Caderousseclimbedtheladderslowly,andlookedoverthecopingtoseeifthestreetwasquiet.Noonecouldbeseenorheard.TheclockoftheInvalidesstruckone.
ThenCaderoussesatastridethecoping,anddrawinguphisladderpasseditoverthewall;thenhebegantodescend,orrathertoslidedownbythetwostanchions,whichhedidwithaneasewhichprovedhowaccustomedhewastotheexercise.But,oncestarted,hecouldnotstop.
Invaindidheseeamanstartfromtheshadowwhenhewashalfwaydown—invaindidheseeanarmraisedashetouchedtheground.
Beforehecoulddefendhimselfthatarmstruckhimsoviolentlyinthebackthatheletgotheladder,crying,“Help!”
Asecondblowstruckhimalmostimmediatelyintheside,andhefell,calling,“Help,murder!”
Then,asherolledontheground,hisadversaryseizedhimbythehair,andstruckhimathirdblowinthechest.
ThistimeCaderousseendeavoredtocallagain,buthecouldonlyutteragroan,andheshudderedasthebloodflowedfromhisthreewounds.
Theassassin,findingthathenolongercriedout,liftedhisheadupbythehair;hiseyeswereclosed,andthemouthwasdistorted.
Themurderer,supposinghimdead,letfallhisheadanddisappeared.
ThenCaderousse,feelingthathewasleavinghim,raisedhimselfonhiselbow,andwithadyingvoicecriedwithgreateffort,“Murder!Iamdying!Help,reverendsir,—help!”
Thismournfulappealpiercedthedarkness.Thedooroftheback–staircaseopened,thentheside–gateofthegarden,andAliandhismasterwereonthespotwithlights.
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