English
TherecenteventformedthethemeofconversationthroughoutallParis.
EmmanuelandhiswifeconversedwithnaturalastonishmentintheirlittleapartmentintheRueMeslayuponthethreesuccessive,sudden,andmostunexpectedcatastrophesofMorcerf,Danglars,andVillefort.
Maximilian,whowaspayingthemavisit,listenedtotheirconversation,orratherwaspresentatit,plungedinhisaccustomedstateofapathy.
“Indeed,”saidJulie,“mightwenotalmostfancy,Emmanuel,thatthosepeople,sorich,sohappybutyesterday,hadforgottenintheirprosperitythatanevilgenius—likethewickedfairiesinPerrault’sstorieswhopresentthemselvesunbiddenataweddingorbaptism—hoveredoverthem,andappearedallatoncetorevengehimselffortheirfatalneglect?”
“Whatadiremisfortune!”saidEmmanuel,thinkingofMorcerfandDanglars.
“Whatdreadfulsufferings!”saidJulie,rememberingValentine,butwhom,withadelicacynaturaltowomen,shedidnotnamebeforeherbrother.
“IftheSupremeBeinghasdirectedthefatalblow,”saidEmmanuel,“itmustbethatheinhisgreatgoodnesshasperceivednothinginthepastlivesofthesepeopletomeritmitigationoftheirawfulpunishment.”
“Doyounotformaveryrashjudgment,Emmanuel?”saidJulie.
“Whenmyfather,withapistolinhishand,wasonceonthepointofcommittingsuicide,hadanyonethensaid,‘Thismandeserveshismisery,’wouldnotthatpersonhavebeendeceived?”
“Yes;butyourfatherwasnotallowedtofall.Abeingwascommissionedtoarrestthefatalhandofdeathabouttodescendonhim.”
Emmanuelhadscarcelyutteredthesewordswhenthesoundofthebellwasheard,thewell–knownsignalgivenbytheporterthatavisitorhadarrived.
NearlyatthesameinstantthedoorwasopenedandtheCountofMonteCristoappearedonthethreshold.
Theyoungpeopleutteredacryofjoy,whileMaximilianraisedhishead,butletitfallagainimmediately.
“Maximilian,”saidthecount,withoutappearingtonoticethedifferentimpressionswhichhispresenceproducedonthelittlecircle,“Icometoseekyou.”
“Toseekme?”repeatedMorrel,asifawakeningfromadream.
“Yes,”saidMonteCristo;“hasitnotbeenagreedthatIshouldtakeyouwithme,anddidInottellyouyesterdaytopreparefordeparture?”
“Iamready,”saidMaximilian;“Icameexpresslytowishthemfarewell.”
“Whitherareyougoing,count?”askedJulie.
“InthefirstinstancetoMarseilles,madame.”
“ToMarseilles!”exclaimedtheyoungcouple.
“Yes,andItakeyourbrotherwithme.”
“Oh,count.”saidJulie,“willyourestorehimtouscuredofhismelancholy?”—Morrelturnedawaytoconcealtheconfusionofhiscountenance.
“Youperceive,then,thatheisnothappy?”saidthecount.“Yes,”repliedtheyoungwoman;“andfearmuchthathefindsourhomebutadullone.”
“Iwillundertaketodiverthim,”repliedthecount.
“Iamreadytoaccompanyyou,sir,”saidMaximilian.“Adieu,mykindfriends!Emmanuel—Julie—farewell!”
“Howfarewell?”exclaimedJulie;“doyouleaveusthus,sosuddenly,withoutanypreparationsforyourjourney,withoutevenapassport?”
“Needlessdelaysbutincreasethegriefofparting,”saidMonteCristo,“andMaximilianhasdoubtlessprovidedhimselfwitheverythingrequisite;atleast,Iadvisedhimtodoso.”
“Ihaveapassport,andmyclothesarereadypacked,”saidMorrelinhistranquilbutmournfulmanner.
“Good,”saidMonteCristo,smiling;“inthesepromptarrangementswerecognizetheorderofawell–disciplinedsoldier.”
“Andyouleaveus,”saidJulie,“atamoment’swarning?youdonotgiveusaday—no,notevenanhourbeforeyourdeparture?”
“Mycarriageisatthedoor,madame,andImustbeinRomeinfivedays.”
“ButdoesMaximiliangotoRome?”exclaimedEmmanuel.
“Iamgoingwhereveritmaypleasethecounttotakeme,”saidMorrel,withasmilefullofgrief;“Iamunderhisordersforthenextmonth.”
“Oh,heavens,howstrangelyheexpresseshimself,count!”saidJulie.
“Maximiliangoeswithme,”saidthecount,inhiskindestandmostpersuasivemanner;“thereforedonotmakeyourselfuneasyonyourbrother’saccount.”
“Oncemorefarewell,mydearsister;Emmanuel,adieu!”Morrelrepeated.
“Hiscarelessnessandindifferencetouchmetotheheart,”saidJulie.“Oh,Maximilian,Maximilian,youarecertainlyconcealingsomethingfromus.”
“Pshaw!”saidMonteCristo,“youwillseehimreturntoyougay,smiling,andjoyful.”
Maximiliancastalookofdisdain,almostofanger,onthecount.
“Wemustleaveyou,”saidMonteCristo.
“Beforeyouquitus,count,”saidJulie,“willyoupermitustoexpresstoyouallthattheotherday”—
“Madame,”interruptedthecount,takinghertwohandsinhis,“allthatyoucouldsayinwordswouldneverexpresswhatIreadinyoureyes;thethoughtsofyourheartarefullyunderstoodbymine.
Likebenefactorsinromances,Ishouldhaveleftyouwithoutseeingyouagain,butthatwouldhavebeenavirtuebeyondmystrength,becauseIamaweakandvainman,fondofthetender,kind,andthankfulglancesofmyfellow–creatures.
OntheeveofdepartureIcarrymyegotismsofarastosay,‘Donotforgetme,mykindfriends,forprobablyyouwillneverseemeagain.’”
“Neverseeyouagain?”exclaimedEmmanuel,whiletwolargetearsrolleddownJulie’scheeks,“neverbeholdyouagain?
Itisnotaman,then,butsomeangelthatleavesus,andthisangelisonthepointofreturningtoheavenafterhavingappearedonearthtodogood.”
“Saynotso,”quicklyreturnedMonteCristo—”saynotso,myfriends;angelsnevererr,celestialbeingsremainwheretheywishtobe.
Fateisnotmorepowerfulthanthey;itistheywho,onthecontrary,overcomefate.
No,Emmanuel,Iambutaman,andyouradmirationisasunmeritedasyourwordsaresacrilegious.”
AndpressinghislipsonthehandofJulie,whorushedintohisarms,heextendedhisotherhandtoEmmanuel;thentearinghimselffromthisabodeofpeaceandhappiness,hemadeasigntoMaximilian,whofollowedhimpassively,withtheindifferencewhichhadbeenperceptibleinhimeversincethedeathofValentinehadsostunnedhim.
“Restoremybrothertopeaceandhappiness,”whisperedJulietoMonteCristo.
Andthecountpressedherhandinreply,ashehaddoneelevenyearsbeforeonthestaircaseleadingtoMorrel’sstudy.
“Youstillconfide,then,inSinbadtheSailor?”askedhe,smiling.
“Oh,yes,”wasthereadyanswer.
“Well,then,sleepinpeace,andputyourtrustinheaven.”
Aswehavebeforesaid,thepostchaisewaswaiting;fourpowerfulhorseswerealreadypawingthegroundwithimpatience,whileAli,apparentlyjustarrivedfromalongwalk,wasstandingatthefootofthesteps,hisfacebathedinperspiration.
“Well,”askedthecountinArabic,“haveyoubeentoseetheoldman?”Alimadeasignintheaffirmative.
“Andhaveyouplacedtheletterbeforehim,asIorderedyoutodo?”
Theslaverespectfullysignalizedthathehad.“Andwhatdidhesay,orratherdo?”
Aliplacedhimselfinthelight,sothathismastermightseehimdistinctly,andthenimitatinginhisintelligentmannerthecountenanceoftheoldman,heclosedhiseyes,asNoirtierwasinthecustomofdoingwhensaying“Yes.”
“Good;heaccepts,”saidMonteCristo.“Nowletusgo.”
Thesewordshadscarcelyescapedhim,whenthecarriagewasonitsway,andthefeetofthehorsesstruckashowerofsparksfromthepavement.
Maximiliansettledhimselfinhiscornerwithoututteringaword.
Halfanhourhadpassedwhenthecarriagestoppedsuddenly;thecounthadjustpulledthesilkencheck–string,whichwasfastenedtoAli’sfinger.
TheNubianimmediatelydescendedandopenedthecarriagedoor.
Itwasalovelystarlightnight—theyhadjustreachedthetopofthehillVillejuif,fromwhenceParisappearslikeasombreseatossingitsmillionsofphosphoricwavesintolight—wavesindeedmorenoisy,morepassionate,morechangeable,morefurious,moregreedy,thanthoseofthetempestuousocean,—waveswhichneverrestasthoseoftheseasometimesdo,—waveseverdashing,everfoaming,everingulfingwhatfallswithintheirgrasp.
Thecountstoodalone,andatasignfromhishand,thecarriagewentonforashortdistance.
Withfoldedarms,hegazedforsometimeuponthegreatcity.
WhenhehadfixedhispiercinglookonthismodernBabylon,whichequallyengagesthecontemplationofthereligiousenthusiast,thematerialist,andthescoffer,—”Greatcity,”murmuredhe,inclininghishead,andjoininghishandsasifinprayer,“lessthansixmonthshaveelapsedsincefirstIenteredthygates.
IbelievethattheSpiritofGodledmystepstotheeandthathealsoenablesmetoquittheeintriumph;thesecretcauseofmypresencewithinthywallsIhaveconfidedalonetohimwhoonlyhashadthepowertoreadmyheart.
GodonlyknowsthatIretirefromtheewithoutprideorhatred,butnotwithoutmanyregrets;heonlyknowsthatthepowerconfidedtomehasneverbeenmadesubservienttomypersonalgoodortoanyuselesscause.
Oh,greatcity,itisinthypalpitatingbosomthatIhavefoundthatwhichIsought;likeapatientminer,Ihavedugdeepintothyveryentrailstorootoutevilthence.
Nowmyworkisaccomplished,mymissionisterminated,nowthoucanstneitheraffordmepainnorpleasure.Adieu,Paris,adieu!”
Hislookwanderedoverthevastplainlikethatofsomegeniusofthenight;hepassedhishandoverhisbrow,gotintothecarriage,thedoorwasclosedonhim,andthevehiclequicklydisappeareddowntheothersideofthehillinawhirlwindofnoiseanddust.
Tenleagueswerepassedandnotasinglewordwasuttered.
Morrelwasdreaming,andMonteCristowaslookingatthedreamer.
“Morrel,”saidthecounttohimatlength,“doyourepenthavingfollowedme?”
“No,count;buttoleaveParis”—
“IfIthoughthappinessmightawaityouinParis,Morrel,Iwouldhaveleftyouthere.”
“ValentinereposeswithinthewallsofParis,andtoleaveParisislikelosingherasecondtime.”
“Maximilian,”saidthecount,“thefriendsthatwehavelostdonotreposeinthebosomoftheearth,butareburieddeepinourhearts,andithasbeenthusordainedthatwemayalwaysbeaccompaniedbythem.
Ihavetwofriends,whointhiswayneverdepartfromme;theonewhogavemebeing,andtheotherwhoconferredknowledgeandintelligenceonme.Theirspiritsliveinme.
Iconsultthemwhendoubtful,andifIeverdoanygood,itisduetotheirbeneficentcounsels.
Listentothevoiceofyourheart,Morrel,andaskitwhetheryououghttopreservethismelancholyexteriortowardsme.”
“Myfriend,”saidMaximilian,“thevoiceofmyheartisverysorrowful,andpromisesmenothingbutmisfortune.”
“Itisthewayofweakenedmindstoseeeverythingthroughablackcloud.
Thesoulformsitsownhorizons;yoursoulisdarkened,andconsequentlytheskyofthefutureappearsstormyandunpromising.”
“Thatmaypossiblybetrue,”saidMaximilian,andheagainsubsidedintohisthoughtfulmood.
Thejourneywasperformedwiththatmarvellousrapiditywhichtheunlimitedpowerofthecountevercommanded.
Townsfledfromthemlikeshadowsontheirpath,andtreesshakenbythefirstwindsofautumnseemedlikegiantsmadlyrushingontomeetthem,andretreatingasrapidlywhenoncereached.
ThefollowingmorningtheyarrivedatChalons,wherethecount’ssteamboatwaitedforthem.
Withoutthelossofaninstant,thecarriagewasplacedonboardandthetwotravellersembarkedwithoutdelay.
Theboatwasbuiltforspeed;hertwopaddle–wheelswereliketwowingswithwhichsheskimmedthewaterlikeabird.
Morrelwasnotinsensibletothatsensationofdelightwhichisgenerallyexperiencedinpassingrapidlythroughtheair,andthewindwhichoccasionallyraisedthehairfromhisforeheadseemedonthepointofdispellingmomentarilythecloudscollectedthere.
AsthedistanceincreasedbetweenthetravellersandParis,almostsuperhumanserenityappearedtosurroundthecount;hemighthavebeentakenforanexileabouttorevisithisnativeland.
ErelongMarseillespresentedherselftoview,—Marseilles,white,fervid,fulloflifeandenergy,—Marseilles,theyoungersisterofTyreandCarthage,thesuccessortothemintheempireoftheMediterranean,—Marseilles,old,yetalwaysyoung.
Powerfulmemorieswerestirredwithinthembythesightoftheroundtower,FortSaint–Nicolas,theCityHalldesignedbyPuget,[*]theportwithitsbrickquays,wheretheyhadbothplayedinchildhood,anditwaswithoneaccordthattheystoppedontheCannebiere.
AvesselwassettingsailforAlgiers,onboardofwhichthebustleusuallyattendingdepartureprevailed.
Thepassengersandtheirrelationscrowdedonthedeck,friendstakingatenderbutsorrowfulleaveofeachother,someweeping,othersnoisyintheirgrief,thewholeformingaspectaclethatmightbeexcitingeventothosewhowitnessedsimilarsightsdaily,butwhichhadnopowertodisturbthecurrentofthoughtthathadtakenpossessionofthemindofMaximilianfromthemomenthehadsetfootonthebroadpavementofthequay.
“Here,”saidhe,leaningheavilyonthearmofMonteCristo,—”hereisthespotwheremyfatherstopped,whenthePharaonenteredtheport;itwasherethatthegoodoldman,whomyousavedfromdeathanddishonor,threwhimselfintomyarms.
Iyetfeelhiswarmtearsonmyface,andhiswerenottheonlytearsshed,formanywhowitnessedourmeetingweptalso.”
MonteCristogentlysmiledandsaid,—”Iwasthere;”atthesametimepointingtothecornerofastreet.
Ashespoke,andintheverydirectionheindicated,agroan,expressiveofbittergrief,washeard,andawomanwasseenwavingherhandtoapassengeronboardthevesselabouttosail.
MonteCristolookedatherwithanemotionthatmusthavebeenremarkedbyMorrelhadnothiseyesbeenfixedonthevessel.
*PierrePuget,thesculptor–architect,wasbornatMarseillesin1622.
“Oh,heavens!”exclaimedMorrel,“Idonotdeceivemyself—thatyoungmanwhoiswavinghishat,thatyouthintheuniformofalieutenant,isAlbertdeMorcerf!”
“Yes,”saidMonteCristo,“Irecognizedhim.”
“Howso?—youwerelookingtheotherway.”
thecountsmiled,ashewasinthehabitofdoingwhenhedidnotwanttomakeanyreply,andheagainturnedtowardstheveiledwoman,whosoondisappearedatthecornerofthestreet.
Turningtohisfriend,—”DearMaximilian,”saidthecount,“haveyounothingtodointhisland?”
“Ihavetoweepoverthegraveofmyfather,”repliedMorrelinabrokenvoice.
“Well,then,go,—waitformethere,andIwillsoonjoinyou.”
“Youleaveme,then?”
“Yes;Ialsohaveapiousvisittopay.”
Morrelallowedhishandtofallintothatwhichthecountextendedtohim;thenwithaninexpressiblysorrowfulinclinationoftheheadhequittedthecountandbenthisstepstotheeastofthecity.
MonteCristoremainedonthesamespotuntilMaximilianwasoutofsight;hethenwalkedslowlytowardstheAlleesdeMeillantoseekoutasmallhousewithwhichourreadersweremadefamiliaratthebeginningofthisstory.
Ityetstood,undertheshadeofthefineavenueoflime–trees,whichformsoneofthemostfrequentwalksoftheidlersofMarseilles,coveredbyanimmensevine,whichspreadsitsagedandblackenedbranchesoverthestonefront,burntyellowbytheardentsunofthesouth.
Twostonestepswornawaybythefrictionofmanyfeetledtothedoor,whichwasmadeofthreeplanks;thedoorhadneverbeenpaintedorvarnished,sogreatcracksyawnedinitduringthedryseasontocloseagainwhentherainscameon.
Thehouse,withallitscrumblingantiquityandapparentmisery,wasyetcheerfulandpicturesque,andwasthesamethatoldDantesformerlyinhabited—theonlydifferencebeingthattheoldmanoccupiedmerelythegarret,whilethewholehousewasnowplacedatthecommandofMercedesbythecount.
Thewomanwhomthecounthadseenleavetheshipwithsomuchregretenteredthishouse;shehadscarcelyclosedthedoorafterherwhenMonteCristoappearedatthecornerofastreet,sothathefoundandlostheragainalmostatthesameinstant.
Thewornoutstepswereoldacquaintancesofhis;heknewbetterthananyoneelsehowtoopenthatweather–beatendoorwiththelargeheadednailwhichservedtoraisethelatchwithin.
Heenteredwithoutknocking,orgivinganyotherintimationofhispresence,asifhehadbeenafriendorthemasteroftheplace.
Attheendofapassagepavedwithbricks,wasalittlegarden,bathedinsunshine,andrichinwarmthandlight.
InthisgardenMercedeshadfound,attheplaceindicatedbythecount,thesumofmoneywhichhe,throughasenseofdelicacy,haddescribedashavingbeenplacedtheretwenty–fouryearspreviously.
Thetreesofthegardenwereeasilyseenfromthestepsofthestreet–door.
MonteCristo,onsteppingintothehouse,heardasighthatwasalmostadeepsob;helookedinthedirectionwhenceitcame,andthereunderanarborofVirginiajessamine,[*]withitsthickfoliageandbeautifullongpurpleflowers,hesawMercedesseated,withherheadbowed,andweepingbitterly.
Shehadraisedherveil,andwithherfacehiddenbyherhandswasgivingfreescopetothesighsandtearswhichhadbeensolongrestrainedbythepresenceofherson.
MonteCristoadvancedafewsteps,whichwereheardonthegravel.
Mercedesraisedherhead,andutteredacryofterroronbeholdingamanbeforeher.
“Madame,”saidthecount,“itisnolongerinmypowertorestoreyoutohappiness,butIofferyouconsolation;willyoudeigntoacceptitascomingfromafriend?”
*TheCarolina—notVirginia—jessamine,gelsemium
sempervirens(properlyspeakingnotajessamineatall)has
yellowblossoms.ThereferenceisnodoubttotheWistaria
frutescens.—Ed.
“Iam,indeed,mostwretched,”repliedMercedes.“Aloneintheworld,Ihadbutmyson,andhehasleftme!”
“Hepossessesanobleheart,madame,”repliedthecount,“andhehasactedrightly.
Hefeelsthateverymanowesatributetohiscountry;somecontributetheirtalents,otherstheirindustry;thesedevotetheirblood,thosetheirnightlylabors,tothesamecause.
Hadheremainedwithyou,hislifemusthavebecomeahatefulburden,norwouldhehaveparticipatedinyourgriefs.
Hewillincreaseinstrengthandhonorbystrugglingwithadversity,whichhewillconvertintoprosperity.
Leavehimtobuildupthefutureforyou,andIventuretosayyouwillconfideittosafehands.”
“Oh,”repliedthewretchedwoman,mournfullyshakingherhead,“theprosperityofwhichyouspeak,andwhich,fromthebottomofmyheart,IprayGodinhismercytogranthim,Icanneverenjoy.
Thebittercupofadversityhasbeendrainedbymetotheverydregs,andIfeelthatthegraveisnotfardistant.
Youhaveactedkindly,count,inbringingmebacktotheplacewhereIhaveenjoyedsomuchbliss.
Ioughttomeetdeathonthesamespotwherehappinesswasonceallmyown.”
“Alas,”saidMonteCristo,“yourwordssearandembittermyheart,themoresoasyouhaveeveryreasontohateme.
Ihavebeenthecauseofallyourmisfortunes;butwhydoyoupity,insteadofblamingme?Yourendermestillmoreunhappy”—
“Hateyou,blameyou—you,Edmond!Hate,reproach,themanthathassparedmyson’slife!
ForwasitnotyourfatalandsanguinaryintentiontodestroythatsonofwhomM.deMorcerfwassoproud?
Oh,lookatmeclosely,anddiscoverifyoucaneventhesemblanceofareproachinme.”
ThecountlookedupandfixedhiseyesonMercedes,whoarosepartlyfromherseatandextendedbothherhandstowardshim.
“Oh,lookatme,”continuedshe,withafeelingofprofoundmelancholy,“myeyesnolongerdazzlebytheirbrilliancy,forthetimehaslongfledsinceIusedtosmileonEdmondDantes,whoanxiouslylookedoutformefromthewindowofyondergarret,theninhabitedbyhisoldfather.
Yearsofgriefhavecreatedanabyssbetweenthosedaysandthepresent.
Ineitherreproachyounorhateyou,myfriend.
Oh,no,Edmond,itismyselfthatIblame,myselfthatIhate!Oh,miserablecreaturethatIam!”
criedshe,claspingherhands,andraisinghereyestoheaven.
“Ioncepossessedpiety,innocence,andlove,thethreeingredientsofthehappinessofangels,andnowwhatamI?”
MonteCristoapproachedher,andsilentlytookherhand.
“No,”saidshe,withdrawingitgently—”no,myfriend,touchmenot.
Youhavesparedme,yetofallthosewhohavefallenunderyourvengeanceIwasthemostguilty.
Theywereinfluencedbyhatred,byavarice,andbyself–love;butIwasbase,andforwantofcourageactedagainstmyjudgment.
Nay,donotpressmyhand,Edmond;youarethinking,Iamsure,ofsomekindspeechtoconsoleme,butdonotutterittome,reserveitforothersmoreworthyofyourkindness.
See”(andsheexposedherfacecompletelytoview)—”see,misfortunehassilveredmyhair,myeyeshaveshedsomanytearsthattheyareencircledbyarimofpurple,andmybrowiswrinkled.
You,Edmond,onthecontrary,—youarestillyoung,handsome,dignified;itisbecauseyouhavehadfaith;becauseyouhavehadstrength,becauseyouhavehadtrustinGod,andGodhassustainedyou.
Butasforme,Ihavebeenacoward;IhavedeniedGodandhehasabandonedme.”
Mercedesburstintotears;herwoman’sheartwasbreakingunderitsloadofmemories.
MonteCristotookherhandandimprintedakissonit;butsheherselffeltthatitwasakissofnogreaterwarmththanhewouldhavebestowedonthehandofsomemarblestatueofasaint.
“Itoftenhappens,”continuedshe,“thatafirstfaultdestroystheprospectsofawholelife.
Ibelievedyoudead;whydidIsurviveyou?
Whatgoodhasitdonemetomournforyoueternallyinthesecretrecessesofmyheart?
—onlytomakeawomanofthirty–ninelooklikeawomanoffifty.
Why,havingrecognizedyou,andItheonlyonetodoso—whywasIabletosavemysonalone?
OughtInotalsotohaverescuedthemanthatIhadacceptedforahusband,guiltythoughhewere?YetIlethimdie!WhatdoIsay?
Oh,mercifulheavens,wasInotaccessorytohisdeathbymysupineinsensibility,bymycontemptforhim,notremembering,ornotwillingtoremember,thatitwasformysakehehadbecomeatraitorandaperjurer?
InwhatamIbenefitedbyaccompanyingmysonsofar,sinceInowabandonhim,andallowhimtodepartalonetothebanefulclimateofAfrica?
Oh,Ihavebeenbase,cowardly,Itellyou;Ihaveabjuredmyaffections,andlikeallrenegadesIamofevilomentothosewhosurroundme!”
“No,Mercedes,”saidMonteCristo,“no;youjudgeyourselfwithtoomuchseverity.
Youareanoble–mindedwoman,anditwasyourgriefthatdisarmedme.
StillIwasbutanagent,ledonbyaninvisibleandoffendedDeity,whochosenottowithholdthefatalblowthatIwasdestinedtohurl.
ItakethatGodtowitness,atwhosefeetIhaveprostratedmyselfdailyforthelasttenyears,thatIwouldhavesacrificedmylifetoyou,andwithmylifetheprojectsthatwereindissolublylinkedwithit.
But—andIsayitwithsomepride,Mercedes—Godneededme,andIlived.
Examinethepastandthepresent,andendeavortodiveintofuturity,andthensaywhetherIamnotadivineinstrument.
Themostdreadfulmisfortunes,themostfrightfulsufferings,theabandonmentofallthosewholovedme,thepersecutionofthosewhodidnotknowme,formedthetrialsofmyyouth;whensuddenly,fromcaptivity,solitude,misery,Iwasrestoredtolightandliberty,andbecamethepossessorofafortunesobrilliant,sounbounded,sounheard–of,thatImusthavebeenblindnottobeconsciousthatGodhadendowedmewithittoworkouthisowngreatdesigns.
FromthattimeIlookeduponthisfortuneassomethingconfidedtomeforanespecialpurpose.
Notathoughtwasgiventoalifewhichyouonce,Mercedes,hadthepowertorenderblissful;notonehourofpeacefulcalmwasmine;butIfeltmyselfdrivenonlikeanexterminatingangel.
Likeadventurouscaptainsabouttoembarkonsomeenterprisefullofdanger,Ilaidinmyprovisions,Iloadedmyweapons,Icollectedeverymeansofattackanddefence;Iinuredmybodytothemostviolentexercises,mysoultothebitteresttrials;Itaughtmyarmtoslay,myeyestobeholdexcruciatingsufferings,andmymouthtosmileatthemosthorridspectacles.
Good–natured,confiding,andforgivingasIhadbeen,Ibecamerevengeful,cunning,andwicked,orrather,immovableasfate.
ThenIlaunchedoutintothepaththatwasopenedtome.
Iovercameeveryobstacle,andreachedthegoal;butwoetothosewhostoodinmypathway!”
“Enough,”saidMercedes;“enough,Edmond!
Believeme,thatshewhoalonerecognizedyouhasbeentheonlyonetocomprehendyou;andhadshecrossedyourpath,andyouhadcrushedherlikeglass,still,Edmond,stillshemusthaveadmiredyou!
Likethegulfbetweenmeandthepast,thereisanabyssbetweenyou,Edmond,andtherestofmankind;andItellyoufreelythatthecomparisonIdrawbetweenyouandothermenwilleverbeoneofmygreatesttortures.
No,thereisnothingintheworldtoresembleyouinworthandgoodness!
Butwemustsayfarewell,Edmond,andletuspart.”
“BeforeIleaveyou,Mercedes,haveyounorequesttomake?”saidthecount.
“Idesirebutonethinginthisworld,Edmond,—thehappinessofmyson.”
“PraytotheAlmightytosparehislife,andIwilltakeuponmyselftopromotehishappiness.”
“Thankyou,Edmond.”
“Buthaveyounorequesttomakeforyourself,Mercedes?”
“FormyselfIwantnothing.Ilive,asitwere,betweentwograves.
OneisthatofEdmondDantes,losttomelong,longsince.Hehadmylove!
Thatwordillbecomesmyfadedlipnow,butitisamemorydeartomyheart,andonethatIwouldnotloseforallthattheworldcontains.
TheothergraveisthatofthemanwhomethisdeathfromthehandofEdmondDantes.
Iapproveofthedeed,butImustprayforthedead.”
“Yoursonshallbehappy,Mercedes,”repeatedthecount.
“ThenIshallenjoyasmuchhappinessasthisworldcanpossiblyconfer.”
“Butwhatareyourintentions?”
“TosaythatIshalllivehere,liketheMercedesofothertimes,gainingmybreadbylabor,wouldnotbetrue,norwouldyoubelieveme.
Ihavenolongerthestrengthtodoanythingbuttospendmydaysinprayer.
However,Ishallhavenooccasiontowork,forthelittlesumofmoneyburiedbyyou,andwhichIfoundintheplaceyoumentioned,willbesufficienttomaintainme.
Rumorwillprobablybebusyrespectingme,myoccupations,mymannerofliving—thatwillsignifybutlittle.”
“Mercedes,”saidthecount,“Idonotsayittoblameyou,butyoumadeanunnecessarysacrificeinrelinquishingthewholeofthefortuneamassedbyM.deMorcerf;halfofitatleastbyrightbelongedtoyou,invirtueofyourvigilanceandeconomy.”
“Iperceivewhatyouareintendingtoproposetome;butIcannotacceptit,Edmond—mysonwouldnotpermitit.”
“NothingshallbedonewithoutthefullapprobationofAlbertdeMorcerf.
Iwillmakemyselfacquaintedwithhisintentionsandwillsubmittothem.
Butifhebewillingtoacceptmyoffers,willyouopposethem?”
“Youwellknow,Edmond,thatIamnolongerareasoningcreature;Ihavenowill,unlessitbethewillnevertodecide.
Ihavebeensooverwhelmedbythemanystormsthathavebrokenovermyhead,thatIambecomepassiveinthehandsoftheAlmighty,likeasparrowinthetalonsofaneagle.
Ilive,becauseitisnotordainedformetodie.
Ifsuccorbesenttome,Iwillacceptit.”
“Ah,madame,”saidMonteCristo,“youshouldnottalkthus!Itisnotsoweshouldevinceourresignationtothewillofheaven;onthecontrary,weareallfreeagents.”
“Alas!”exclaimedMercedes,“ifitwereso,ifIpossessedfree–will,butwithoutthepowertorenderthatwillefficacious,itwoulddrivemetodespair.”
MonteCristodroppedhisheadandshrankfromthevehemenceofhergrief.
“Willyounotevensayyouwillseemeagain?”heasked.
“Onthecontrary,weshallmeetagain,”saidMercedes,pointingtoheavenwithsolemnity.
“ItellyousotoprovetoyouthatIstillhope.”
Andafterpressingherowntremblinghanduponthatofthecount,Mercedesrushedupthestairsanddisappeared.
MonteCristoslowlyleftthehouseandturnedtowardsthequay.
ButMercedesdidnotwitnesshisdeparture,althoughshewasseatedatthelittlewindowoftheroomwhichhadbeenoccupiedbyoldDantes.
Hereyeswerestrainingtoseetheshipwhichwascarryinghersonoverthevastsea;butstillhervoiceinvoluntarilymurmuredsoftly,“Edmond,Edmond,Edmond!”
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