English
Thenextmorningdawneddullandcloudy.
Duringthenighttheundertakershadexecutedtheirmelancholyoffice,andwrappedthecorpseinthewinding–sheet,which,whatevermaybesaidabouttheequalityofdeath,isatleastalastproofoftheluxurysopleasinginlife.
Thiswinding–sheetwasnothingmorethanabeautifulpieceofcambric,whichtheyounggirlhadboughtafortnightbefore.
Duringtheeveningtwomen,engagedforthepurpose,hadcarriedNoirtierfromValentine’sroomintohisown,andcontrarytoallexpectationtherewasnodifficultyinwithdrawinghimfromhischild.
TheAbbeBusonihadwatchedtilldaylight,andthenleftwithoutcallinganyone.
D’Avrignyreturnedabouteighto’clockinthemorning;hemetVillefortonhiswaytoNoirtier’sroom,andaccompaniedhimtoseehowtheoldmanhadslept.
Theyfoundhiminthelargearm–chair,whichservedhimforabed,enjoyingacalm,nay,almostasmilingsleep.
Theybothstoodinamazementatthedoor.
“See,”saidd’AvrignytoVillefort,“natureknowshowtoalleviatethedeepestsorrow.NoonecansaythatM.Noirtierdidnotlovehischild,andyethesleeps.”
“Yes,youareright,”repliedVillefort,surprised;“hesleeps,indeed!Andthisisthemorestrange,sincetheleastcontradictionkeepshimawakeallnight.”
“Griefhasstunnedhim,”repliedd’Avrigny;andtheybothreturnedthoughtfullytotheprocureur’sstudy.
“See,Ihavenotslept,”saidVillefort,showinghisundisturbedbed;“griefdoesnotstunme.
Ihavenotbeeninbedfortwonights;butthenlookatmydesk;seewhatIhavewrittenduringthesetwodaysandnights.
Ihavefilledthosepapers,andhavemadeouttheaccusationagainsttheassassinBenedetto.
Oh,work,work,—mypassion,myjoy,mydelight,—itisfortheetoalleviatemysorrows!”
andheconvulsivelygraspedthehandofd’Avrigny.
“Doyourequiremyservicesnow?”askedd’Avrigny.
“No,”saidVillefort;“onlyreturnagainateleveno’clock;attwelvethe—the—oh,heavens,mypoor,poorchild!”andtheprocureuragainbecomingaman,lifteduphiseyesandgroaned.
“Shallyoubepresentinthereceptionroom?”
“No;Ihaveacousinwhohasundertakenthissadoffice.
Ishallwork,doctor—whenIworkIforgeteverything.”
And,indeed,nosoonerhadthedoctorlefttheroom,thanhewasagainabsorbedinstudy.
Onthedoorstepsd’AvrignymetthecousinwhomVilleforthadmentioned,apersonageasinsignificantinourstoryasintheworldheoccupied—oneofthosebeingsdesignedfromtheirbirthtomakethemselvesusefultoothers.
Hewaspunctual,dressedinblack,withcrapearoundhishat,andpresentedhimselfathiscousin’swithafacemadeupfortheoccasion,andwhichhecouldalterasmightberequired.
Attwelveo’clockthemourning–coachesrolledintothepavedcourt,andtheRueduFaubourgSaint–Honorewasfilledwithacrowdofidlers,equallypleasedtowitnessthefestivitiesorthemourningoftherich,andwhorushwiththesameaviditytoafuneralprocessionastothemarriageofaduchess.
Graduallythereception–roomfilled,andsomeofouroldfriendsmadetheirappearance—wemeanDebray,Chateau–Renaud,andBeauchamp,accompaniedbyalltheleadingmenofthedayatthebar,inliterature,orthearmy,forM.deVillefortmovedinthefirstParisiancircles,lessowingtohissocialpositionthantohispersonalmerit.
Thecousinstandingatthedoorusheredintheguests,anditwasratherarelieftotheindifferenttoseeapersonasunmovedasthemselves,andwhodidnotexactamournfulfaceorforcetears,aswouldhavebeenthecasewithafather,abrother,oralover.
Thosewhowereacquaintedsoonformedintolittlegroups.
OneofthemwasmadeofDebray,Chateau–Renaud,andBeauchamp.
“Poorgirl,”saidDebray,liketherest,payinganinvoluntarytributetothesadevent,—”poorgirl,soyoung,sorich,sobeautiful!
Couldyouhaveimaginedthisscene,Chateau–Renaud,whenwesawher,atthemostthreeweeksago,abouttosignthatcontract?”
“Indeed,no,”saidChateau–Renaud—”Didyouknowher?”
“IspoketoheronceortwiceatMadamedeMorcerf’s,amongtherest;sheappearedtomecharming,thoughrathermelancholy.Whereisherstepmother?Doyouknow?”
“Sheisspendingthedaywiththewifeoftheworthygentlemanwhoisreceivingus.”
“Whoishe?”
“Whomdoyoumean?”
“Thegentlemanwhoreceivesus?Isheadeputy?”
“Oh,no.Iamcondemnedtowitnessthosegentlemeneveryday,”saidBeauchamp;“butheisperfectlyunknowntome.”
“Haveyoumentionedthisdeathinyourpaper?”
“Ithasbeenmentioned,butthearticleisnotmine;indeed,IdoubtifitwillpleaseM.Villefort,foritsaysthatiffoursuccessivedeathshadhappenedanywhereelsethaninthehouseoftheking’sattorney,hewouldhaveinterestedhimselfsomewhatmoreaboutit.”
“Still,”saidChateau–Renaud,“Dr.d’Avrigny,whoattendsmymother,declaresheisindespairaboutit.Butwhomareyouseeking,Debray?”
“IamseekingtheCountofMonteCristo”saidtheyoungman.
“Imethimontheboulevard,onmywayhere,”saidBeauchamp.“IthinkheisabouttoleaveParis;hewasgoingtohisbanker.”
“Hisbanker?Danglarsishisbanker,ishenot?”askedChateau–RenaudofDebray.
“Ibelieveso,”repliedthesecretarywithslightuneasiness.“ButMonteCristoisnottheonlyoneImisshere;IdonotseeMorrel.”
“Morrel?Dotheyknowhim?”askedChateau–Renaud.“IthinkhehasonlybeenintroducedtoMadamedeVillefort.”
“Still,heoughttohavebeenhere,”saidDebray;“Iwonderwhatwillbetalkedaboutto–night;thisfuneralisthenewsoftheday.
Buthush,herecomesourministerofjustice;hewillfeelobligedtomakesomelittlespeechtothecousin,”andthethreeyoungmendrewneartolisten.
BeauchamptoldthetruthwhenhesaidthatonhiswaytothefuneralhehadmetMonteCristo,whowasdirectinghisstepstowardstheRuedelaChaussed’Antin,toM.Danglars’.
Thebankersawthecarriageofthecountenterthecourtyard,andadvancedtomeethimwithasad,thoughaffablesmile.
“Well,”saidhe,extendinghishandtoMonteCristo,“Isupposeyouhavecometosympathizewithme,forindeedmisfortunehastakenpossessionofmyhouse.
WhenIperceivedyou,IwasjustaskingmyselfwhetherIhadnotwishedharmtowardsthosepoorMorcerfs,whichwouldhavejustifiedtheproverbof‘Hewhowishesmisfortunestohappentoothersexperiencesthemhimself.’
Well,onmywordofhonor,Ianswered,‘No!’
IwishednoilltoMorcerf;hewasalittleproud,perhaps,foramanwholikemyselfhasrisenfromnothing;butweallhaveourfaults.
Doyouknow,count,thatpersonsofourtimeoflife—notthatyoubelongtotheclass,youarestillayoungman,—butasIwassaying,personsofourtimeoflifehavebeenveryunfortunatethisyear.
Forexample,lookatthepuritanicalprocureur,whohasjustlosthisdaughter,andinfactnearlyallhisfamily,insosingularamanner;Morcerfdishonoredanddead;andthenmyselfcoveredwithridiculethroughthevillanyofBenedetto;besides”—
“Besideswhat?”askedtheCount.
“Alas,doyounotknow?”
“Whatnewcalamity?”
“Mydaughter”—
“MademoiselleDanglars?”
“Eugeniehasleftus!”
“Goodheavens,whatareyoutellingme?”
“Thetruth,mydearcount.Oh,howhappyyoumustbeinnothavingeitherwifeorchildren!”
“Doyouthinkso?”
“IndeedIdo.”
“AndsoMademoiselleDanglars”—
“Shecouldnotenduretheinsultofferedtousbythatwretch,sosheaskedpermissiontotravel.”
“Andisshegone?”
“Theothernightsheleft.”
“WithMadameDanglars?”
“No,witharelation.Butstill,wehavequitelostourdearEugenie;forIdoubtwhetherherpridewilleverallowhertoreturntoFrance.”
“Still,baron,”saidMonteCristo,“familygriefs,orindeedanyotherafflictionwhichwouldcrushamanwhosechildwashisonlytreasure,areendurabletoamillionaire.
Philosophersmaywellsay,andpracticalmenwillalwayssupporttheopinion,thatmoneymitigatesmanytrials;andifyouadmittheefficacyofthissovereignbalm,yououghttobeveryeasilyconsoled—you,thekingoffinance,thefocusofimmeasurablepower.”
Danglarslookedathimaskance,asthoughtoascertainwhetherhespokeseriously.“Yes,”heanswered,“ifafortunebringsconsolation,Ioughttobeconsoled;Iamrich.”
“Sorich,dearsir,thatyourfortuneresemblesthepyramids;ifyouwishedtodemolishthemyoucouldnot,andifitwerepossible,youwouldnotdare!”
Danglarssmiledatthegood–naturedpleasantryofthecount.
“Thatremindsme,”hesaid,“thatwhenyouenteredIwasonthepointofsigningfivelittlebonds;Ihavealreadysignedtwo:willyouallowmetodothesametotheothers?”
“Praydoso.”
Therewasamoment’ssilence,duringwhichthenoiseofthebanker’spenwasaloneheard,whileMonteCristoexaminedthegiltmouldingsontheceiling.
“AretheySpanish,Haitian,orNeapolitanbonds?”saidMonteCristo.
“No,”saidDanglars,smiling,“theyarebondsonthebankofFrance,payabletobearer.
Stay,count,”headded,“you,whomaybecalledtheemperor,ifIclaimthetitleofkingoffinance,haveyoumanypiecesofpaperofthissize,eachworthamillion?”
Thecounttookintohishandsthepapers,whichDanglarshadsoproudlypresentedtohim,andread:—
“TotheGovernoroftheBank.Pleasepaytomyorder,fromthefunddepositedbyme,thesumofamillion,andchargethesametomyaccount.
“BaronDanglars.”
“One,two,three,four,five,”saidMonteCristo;“fivemillions—whywhataCroesusyouare!”
“ThisishowItransactbusiness,”saidDanglars.
“Itisreallywonderful,”saidthecount;“aboveall,if,asIsuppose,itispayableatsight.”
“Itis,indeed,saidDanglars.
“Itisafinethingtohavesuchcredit;really,itisonlyinFrancethesethingsaredone.Fivemillionsonfivelittlescrapsofpaper!—itmustbeseentobebelieved.”
“Youdonotdoubtit?”
“No!”
“Yousaysowithanaccent—stay,youshallbeconvinced;takemyclerktothebank,andyouwillseehimleaveitwithanorderontheTreasuryforthesamesum.”
“No,”saidMonteCristofoldingthefivenotes,“mostdecidedlynot;thethingissocurious,Iwillmaketheexperimentmyself.Iamcreditedonyouforsixmillions.
Ihavedrawnninehundredthousandfrancs,youthereforestillowemefivemillionsandahundredthousandfrancs.
IwilltakethefivescrapsofpaperthatInowholdasbonds,withyoursignaturealone,andhereisareceiptinfullforthesixmillionsbetweenus.
Ihadprepareditbeforehand,forIammuchinwantofmoneyto–day.”
AndMonteCristoplacedthebondsinhispocketwithonehand,whilewiththeotherheheldoutthereceipttoDanglars.
Ifathunderbolthadfallenatthebanker’sfeet,hecouldnothaveexperiencedgreaterterror.
“What,”hestammered,“doyoumeantokeepthatmoney?Excuseme,excuseme,butIowethismoneytothecharityfund,—adepositwhichIpromisedtopaythismorning.”
“Oh,well,then,”saidMonteCristo,“Iamnotparticularaboutthesefivenotes,paymeinadifferentform;Iwished,fromcuriosity,totakethese,thatImightbeabletosaythatwithoutanyadviceorpreparationthehouseofDanglarshadpaidmefivemillionswithoutaminute’sdelay;itwouldhavebeenremarkable.
Buthereareyourbonds;paymedifferently;”andheheldthebondstowardsDanglars,whoseizedthemlikeavultureextendingitsclawstowithholdthefoodthatisbeingwrestedfromitsgrasp.
Suddenlyherallied,madeaviolentefforttorestrainhimself,andthenasmilegraduallywidenedthefeaturesofhisdisturbedcountenance.
“Certainly,”hesaid,“yourreceiptismoney.”
“Ohdear,yes;andifyouwereatRome,thehouseofThomson&Frenchwouldmakenomoredifficultyaboutpayingthemoneyonmyreceiptthanyouhavejustdone.”
“Pardonme,count,pardonme.”
“ThenImaykeepthismoney?”
“Yes,”saidDanglars,whiletheperspirationstartedfromtherootsofhishair.“Yes,keepit—keepit.”
MonteCristoreplacedthenotesinhispocketwiththatindescribableexpressionwhichseemedtosay,“Come,reflect;ifyourepentthereisstilltime.”
“No,”saidDanglars,“no,decidedlyno;keepmysignatures.
Butyouknownonearesoformalasbankersintransactingbusiness;Iintendedthismoneyforthecharityfund,andIseemedtoberobbingthemifIdidnotpaythemwiththeseprecisebonds.
Howabsurd—asifonecrownwerenotasgoodasanother.
Excuseme;”andhebegantolaughloudly,butnervously.
“Certainly,Iexcuseyou,”saidMonteCristograciously,“andpocketthem.”Andheplacedthebondsinhispocket–book.
“But,”saidDanglars,“thereisstillasumofonehundredthousandfrancs?”
“Oh,amerenothing,”saidMonteCristo.“Thebalancewouldcometoaboutthatsum;butkeepit,andweshallbequits.”
“Count.”saidDanglars,“areyouspeakingseriously?”
“Ineverjokewithbankers,”saidMonteCristoinafreezingmanner,whichrepelledimpertinence;andheturnedtothedoor,justasthevaletdechambreannounced,—”M.deBoville,receiver–generalofthecharities.”
“Mafoi,”saidMonteCristo;“IthinkIarrivedjustintimetoobtainyoursignatures,ortheywouldhavebeendisputedwithme.”
Danglarsagainbecamepale,andhastenedtoconductthecountout.
MonteCristoexchangedaceremoniousbowwithM.deBoville,whowasstandinginthewaiting–room,andwhowasintroducedintoDanglars’roomassoonasthecounthadleft.
Thecount’ssadfacewasilluminedbyafaintsmile,ashenoticedtheportfoliowhichthereceiver–generalheldinhishand.
Atthedoorhefoundhiscarriage,andwasimmediatelydriventothebank.
MeanwhileDanglars,repressingallemotion,advancedtomeetthereceiver–general.
Weneednotsaythatasmileofcondescensionwasstampeduponhislips.
“Good–morning,creditor,”saidhe;“forIwageranythingitisthecreditorwhovisitsme.”
“Youareright,baron,”answeredM.deBoville;“thecharitiespresentthemselvestoyouthroughme:thewidowsandorphansdeputemetoreceivealmstotheamountoffivemillionsfromyou.”
“Andyettheysayorphansaretobepitied,”saidDanglars,wishingtoprolongthejest.“Poorthings!”
“HereIamintheirname,”saidM.deBoville;“butdidyoureceivemyletteryesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Ihavebroughtmyreceipt.”
“MydearM.deBoville,yourwidowsandorphansmustobligemebywaitingtwenty–fourhours,sinceM.deMonteCristowhomyoujustsawleavinghere—youdidseehim,Ithink?”
“Yes;well?”
“Well,M.deMonteCristohasjustcarriedofftheirfivemillions.”
“Howso?”
“Thecounthasanunlimitedcredituponme;acreditopenedbyThomson&French,ofRome;hecametodemandfivemillionsatonce,whichIpaidhimwithchecksonthebank.
Myfundsaredepositedthere,andyoucanunderstandthatifIdrawouttenmillionsonthesamedayitwillappearratherstrangetothegovernor.
Twodayswillbeadifferentthing,”saidDanglars,smiling.
“Come,”saidBoville,withatoneofentireincredulity,“fivemillionstothatgentlemanwhojustleft,andwhobowedtomeasthoughheknewme?”
“Perhapsheknowsyou,thoughyoudonotknowhim;M.deMonteCristoknowseverybody.”
“Fivemillions!”
“Hereishisreceipt.Believeyourowneyes.”M.deBovilletookthepaperDanglarspresentedhim,andread:—
“ReceivedofBaronDanglarsthesumoffivemilliononehundredthousandfrancs,toberepaidondemandbythehouseofThomson&FrenchofRome.”
“Itisreallytrue,”saidM.deBoville.
“DoyouknowthehouseofThomson&French?”
“Yes,Ioncehadbusinesstotransactwithittotheamountof200,000francs;butsincethenIhavenothearditmentioned.”
“ItisoneofthebesthousesinEurope,”saidDanglars,carelesslythrowingdownthereceiptonhisdesk.
“Andhehadfivemillionsinyourhandsalone!Why,thisCountofMonteCristomustbeanabob?”
“IndeedIdonotknowwhatheis;hehasthreeunlimitedcredits—oneonme,oneonRothschild,oneonLafitte;and,yousee,”headdedcarelessly,“hehasgivenmethepreference,byleavingabalanceof100,000francs.”
M.deBovillemanifestedsignsofextraordinaryadmiration.
“Imustvisithim,”hesaid,“andobtainsomepiousgrantfromhim.”
“Oh,youmaymakesureofhim;hischaritiesaloneamountto20,000francsamonth.”
“Itismagnificent!IwillsetbeforehimtheexampleofMadamedeMorcerfandherson.”
“Whatexample?”
“Theygavealltheirfortunetothehospitals.”
“Whatfortune?”
“Theirown—M.deMorcerf’s,whoisdeceased.”
“Forwhatreason?”
“Becausetheywouldnotspendmoneysoguiltilyacquired.”
“Andwhataretheytoliveupon?”
“Themotherretiresintothecountry,andthesonentersthearmy.”
“Well,Imustconfess,thesearescruples.”
“Iregisteredtheirdeedofgiftyesterday.”
“Andhowmuchdidtheypossess?”
“Oh,notmuch—fromtwelvetothirteenhundredthousandfrancs.Buttoreturntoourmillions.”
“Certainly,”saidDanglars,inthemostnaturaltoneintheworld.“Areyouthenpressedforthismoney?”
“Yes;fortheexaminationofourcashtakesplaceto–morrow.”
“To–morrow?Whydidyounottellmesobefore?Why,itisasgoodasacentury!Atwhathourdoestheexaminationtakeplace?”
“Attwoo’clock.”
“Sendattwelve,”saidDanglars,smiling.M.deBovillesaidnothing,butnoddedhishead,andtookuptheportfolio.“NowIthinkofit,youcandobetter,”saidDanglars.
“Howdoyoumean?”
“ThereceiptofM.deMonteCristoisasgoodasmoney;takeittoRothschild’sorLafitte’s,andtheywilltakeitoffyourhandsatonce.”
“What,thoughpayableatRome?”
“Certainly;itwillonlycostyouadiscountof5,000or6,000francs.”Thereceiverstartedback.“Mafoi,”hesaid,“Ipreferwaitingtillto–morrow.Whataproposition!”
“Ithought,perhaps,”saidDanglarswithsupremeimpertinence,“thatyouhadadeficiencytomakeup?”
“Indeed,”saidthereceiver.
“Andifthatwerethecaseitwouldbeworthwhiletomakesomesacrifice.”
“Thankyou,no,sir.”
“Thenitwillbeto–morrow.”
“Yes;butwithoutfail.”
“Ah,youarelaughingatme;sendto–morrowattwelve,andthebankshallbenotified.”
“Iwillcomemyself.”
“Betterstill,sinceitwillaffordmethepleasureofseeingyou.”Theyshookhands.
“Bytheway,”saidM.deBoville,“areyounotgoingtothefuneralofpoorMademoiselledeVillefort,whichImetonmyroadhere?”
“No,”saidthebanker;“IhaveappearedratherridiculoussincethataffairofBenedetto,soIremaininthebackground.”
“Bah,youarewrong.Howwereyoutoblameinthataffair?”
“Listen—whenonebearsanirreproachablename,asIdo,oneisrathersensitive.”
“Everybodypitiesyou,sir;and,aboveall,MademoiselleDanglars!”
“PoorEugenie!”saidDanglars;“doyouknowsheisgoingtoembraceareligiouslife?”
“No.”
“Alas,itisunhappilybuttootrue.Thedayaftertheevent,shedecidedonleavingPariswithanunofheracquaintance;theyaregonetoseekaverystrictconventinItalyorSpain.”
“Oh,itisterrible!”andM.deBovilleretiredwiththisexclamation,afterexpressingacutesympathywiththefather.
ButhehadscarcelyleftbeforeDanglars,withanenergyofactionthosecanaloneunderstandwhohaveseenRobertMacairerepresentedbyFrederic,[*]exclaimed,—”Fool!”
ThenenclosingMonteCristo’sreceiptinalittlepocket–book,headded:—”Yes,comeattwelveo’clock;Ishallthenbefaraway.”
Thenhedouble–lockedhisdoor,emptiedallhisdrawers,collectedaboutfiftythousandfrancsinbank–notes,burnedseveralpapers,leftothersexposedtoview,andthencommencedwritingaletterwhichheaddressed:
“ToMadamelaBaronneDanglars.”“Iwillplaceitonhertablemyselfto–night,”hemurmured.Thentakingapassportfromhisdrawerhesaid,—”Good,itisavailablefortwomonthslonger.”
*FredericLemaitre—Frenchactor(1800–1876).Robert
Macaireistheherooftwofavoritemelodramas—
”ChiendeMontargis”and“Chiend’Aubry”
—andthenameisappliedto
boldcriminalsasatermofderision.
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