Count of Monte Cristo

“ Since I set my foot in France, and knew the traitor lived in Paris, I have watched carefully. I live retired in the house of my noble protector, but I do it from choice. I love retirement and silence, because I can live with my thoughts and recollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo surrounds me with every paternal care, and I am ignorant of nothing which passes in the world. I learn all in the silence of my apartments,—for instance, I see all the newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece of music ”

“ Still, in spite of all, you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage."
"He is a philanthropist," answered the other; "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize, given, as you are aware, to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him, I will readily give him the one and promise the other. And now, my dear Franz, let us talk of something else. ”

“ Go.”
“Oh, count, you overwhelm me with that coolness. Have you, then, power against death? Are you superhuman? Are you an angel?” And the young man, who had never shrunk from danger, shrank before Monte Cristo with indescribable terror. But Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy and sweet a smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes.
“I can do much for you, my friend,” replied the count. “Go; I must be alone.”
Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary ascendancy Monte Cristo exercised over everything around him, did not endeavor to resist it. ”

“ Apprised in time of the visit paid him, Monte Cristo had, from behind the blinds of his pavilion, as minutely observed the baron, by means of an excellent lorgnette, as Danglars himself had scrutinized the house, garden, and servants.
“That fellow has a decidedly bad countenance,” said the count in a tone of disgust, as he shut up his glass into its ivory case. “How comes it that all do not retreat in aversion at sight of that flat, receding, serpent-like forehead, round, vulture-shaped head, and sharp-hooked nose, like the beak of a buzzard? ”

“ I live, because it is not ordained for me to die. If succor be sent to me, I will accept it.”
“Ah, madame,” said Monte Cristo, “you should not talk thus! It is not so we should evince our resignation to the will of heaven; on the contrary, we are all free agents.”
“Alas!” exclaimed Mercédès, “if it were so, if I possessed free-will, but without the power to render that will efficacious, it would drive me to despair.”
Monte Cristo dropped his head and shrank from the vehemence of her grief. ”

“ Monte-Cristo smiled. "By my father's tomb!" said he, extending his hand over the head of the young girl, "I swear to you, Haydée, that if any misfortune happens, it will not be to me."
"We Shall Fight Till One of Us is Dead." "I believe you, my lord, as implicitly as if God had spoken to me," said the young girl, presenting her forehead to him. Monte-Cristo pressed on that pure, beautiful forehead a kiss which made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, the other secretly. "Oh!" murmured the count, "shall I then be permitted to love again? ”

“ Monte Cristo watched her with an air so thoughtful, and so full of affectionate admiration, that she turned back and grasped his hand; at the same time she seized that of her son, and joined them together.
"We are friends; are we not?" she asked.
"Oh, madame, I do not presume to call myself your friend, but at all times I am your most respectful servant." The countess left with an indescribable pang in her heart, and before she had taken ten steps the count saw her raise her handkerchief to her eyes. "Do not my mother and you agree?" ”

“ I have but now left a house where death has just entered, to run to you."
"Are you then come from M. de Morcerf's?" asked Monte Cristo.
"No," said Morrel; "is some one dead in his house?"
"The general has just blown his brains out," replied Monte Cristo with great coolness.
"Oh, what a dreadful event!" cried Maximilian.
"Not for the countess, or for Albert," said Monte Cristo; "a dead father or husband is better than a dishonored one, -- blood washes out shame."
"Poor countess," said Maximilian, "I pity her very much; she is so noble a woman!" ”

“ Still, the presence of Monte Cristo at such an hour, his mysterious, fanciful, and extraordinary entrance into her room through the wall, might well seem impossibilities to her shattered reason. "Do not call any one -- do not be alarmed," said the Count; "do not let a shade of suspicion or uneasiness remain in your breast; the man standing before you, Valentine (for this time it is no ghost) , is nothing more than the tenderest father and the most respectful friend you could dream of." ”

“ As for Monte Cristo, after this ebullition he closed his eyes as if dazzled by internal light. In a moment he restrained himself so powerfully that the tempestuous heaving of his breast subsided, as turbulent and foaming waves yield to the sun’s genial influence when the cloud has passed. This silence, self-control, and struggle lasted about twenty seconds, then the count raised his pallid face.
“See,” said he, “my dear friend, how God punishes the most thoughtless and unfeeling men for their indifference, by presenting dreadful scenes to their view. ”

“ The major looked at the count with an indescribable expression of anxiety.
“I have the power of so doing,” said Monte Cristo. The major recovered his self-possession.
“So, then,” said he, “the letter was true to the end?”
“Did you doubt it, my dear Monsieur Bartolomeo?”
“No, indeed; certainly not; a good man, a man holding religious office, as does the Abbé Busoni, could not condescend to deceive or play off a joke; but your excellency has not read all.”
“Ah, true,” said Monte Cristo “there is a postscript.”
“Yes, yes,” repeated the major, “yes—there—is—a—postscript.” ”

“ We know the count’s vigorous and daring mind, denying anything to be impossible, with that energy which marks the great man.
From his past life, from his resolution to shrink from nothing, the count had acquired an inconceivable relish for the contests in which he had engaged, sometimes against nature, that is to say, against God, and sometimes against the world, that is, against the devil.
“They do not want my papers,” said Monte Cristo, “they want to kill me; they are no robbers, but assassins. I will not allow the prefect of police to interfere with my private affairs. ”

“ Monte Cristo listened, or appeared to do so, with the greatest calmness. "Well," said Maximilian, "death came a third time, and neither the master of the house nor the doctor said a word. Death is now, perhaps, striking a fourth blow. Count, what am I bound to do, being in possession of this secret?"
"My dear friend," said Monte Cristo, "you appear to be relating an adventure which we all know by heart. I know the house where you heard it, or one very similar to it; a house with a garden, a master, a physician, and where there have been three unexpected and sudden deaths. ”

“ Monte Cristo smiled imperceptibly.
“I live there during my leave of absence,” continued Maximilian; “and I shall be, together with my brother-in-law Emmanuel, at the disposition of the Count, whenever he thinks fit to honor us.”
“One minute,” cried Albert, without giving Monte Cristo the time to reply. “Take care, you are going to immure a traveller, Sinbad the Sailor, a man who comes to see Paris; you are going to make a patriarch of him.”
“Oh, no,” said Morrel; “my sister is five-and-twenty, my brother-in-law is thirty, they are gay, young, and happy. ”

“ A firm and well-practised hand was engaged in cutting the four sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt his heart beat more rapidly.
Inured as men may be to danger, forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between the project and the execution. However, Monte Cristo only made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his master. ”

“ Monte Cristo descended into the courtyard, walked all over the house, without giving any sign of approbation or pleasure, until he entered his bedroom, situated on the opposite side to the closed room; then he approached a little piece of furniture, made of rosewood, which he had noticed at a previous visit. "That can only be to hold gloves," he said.
"Will your excellency deign to open it?" said the delighted Bertuccio, "and you will find gloves in it." Elsewhere the count found everything he required -- smelling-bottles, cigars, knick-knacks. ”

“ Maximilian—Emmanuel—if we do but discover him, he must believe in the gratitude of the heart!”
Monte Cristo felt tears start into his eyes, and he again walked hastily up and down the room.
“In the name of Heaven,” said Maximilian, “if you know anything of him, tell us what it is.”
“Alas,” cried Monte Cristo, striving to repress his emotion, “if Lord Wilmore was your unknown benefactor, I fear you will never see him again. I parted from him two years ago at Palermo, and he was then on the point of setting out for the most remote regions; so that I fear he will never return.” ”

“ A being was commissioned to arrest the fatal hand of death about to descend on him."
Emmanuel had scarcely uttered these words when the sound of the bell was heard, the well-known signal given by the porter that a visitor had arrived. Nearly at the same instant the door was opened and the Count of Monte Cristo appeared on the threshold. The young people uttered a cry of joy, while Maximilian raised his head, but let it fall again immediately. ”

“ Monte Cristo advanced a few steps, which were heard on the gravel. Mercédès raised her head, and uttered a cry of terror on beholding a man before her.
“Madame,” said the count, “it is no longer in my power to restore you to happiness, but I offer you consolation; will you deign to accept it as coming from a friend?”
“I am, indeed, most wretched,” replied Mercédès. “Alone in the world, I had but my son, and he has left me!”
“He possesses a noble heart, madame,” replied the count, “and he has acted rightly. He feels that every man owes a tribute to his country ”

“ It was never without a nervous shudder, since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo’s name announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became most intense; if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should entertain evil designs against her ”

“ Danglars returned at this moment alone.
“Well,” said the baroness, “do you leave M. Cavalcanti with your daughter?”
“And Mademoiselle d’Armilly,” said the banker; “do you consider her no one?” Then, turning to Monte Cristo, he said, “Prince Cavalcanti is a charming young man, is he not? But is he really a prince?”
“I will not answer for it,” said Monte Cristo. “His father was introduced to me as a marquis, so he ought to be a count; but I do not think he has much claim to that title.”
“Why?” said the banker. “If he is a prince, he is wrong not to maintain his rank ”

“ Monte Cristo only answered by extending his hand to the young man. "Well," continued the latter, "since that heart is no longer with you in the Bois de Vincennes, it is elsewhere, and I must go and find it."
"Go," said the count deliberately; "go, dear friend, but promise me if you meet with any obstacle to remember that I have some power in this world, that I am happy to use that power in the behalf of those I love, and that I love you, Morrel." ”

“ M. de Villefort, notwithstanding his self-control, was visibly affected, and when Monte Cristo touched his hand, he felt it tremble. "Certainly, women alone know how to dissimulate," said Monte Cristo to himself, glancing at Madame Danglars, who was smiling on the procureur, and embracing his wife. After a short time, the count saw Bertuccio, who, until then, had been occupied on the other side of the house, glide into an adjoining room. ”

“ Ah, I am sure he has not sold the house for what he gave for it.”
“The Marquis of Saint-Méran!” returned the count. “The name is not unknown to me; the Marquis of Saint-Méran!” and he appeared to meditate.
“An old gentleman,” continued the concierge, “a staunch follower of the Bourbons; he had an only daughter, who married M. de Villefort, who had been the king’s attorney at Nîmes, and afterwards at Versailles.”
Monte Cristo glanced at Bertuccio, who became whiter than the wall against which he leaned to prevent himself from falling. ”

“ Every one looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment; he spoke with so much simplicity that it was evident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, the sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the former belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give you in exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray.
"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count; "the Pope, the life of a man; so that once in my life I have been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world on the steps of a throne."
"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf ”