Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.11-39
"And for that reason, he besought me to try and clear up a `
` mystery he had never been able to penetrate, and to clear `
` his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it." `
` `
` And here the look of the abbe, becoming more and more fixed, `
` seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy `
` depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance `
` of Caderousse. `
` `
` "A rich Englishman," continued the abbe, "who had been his `
` companion in misfortune, but had been released from prison `
` during the second restoration, was possessed of a diamond of `
` immense value; this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself `
` quitting the prison, as a mark of his gratitude for the `
` kindness and brotherly care with which Dantes had nursed him `
` in a severe illness he underwent during his confinement. `
` Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his `
` jailers, who might only have taken it and then betrayed him `
` to the governor, Dantes carefully preserved it, that in the `
` event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal `
` to live, for the sale of such a diamond would have quite `
` sufficed to make his fortune." `
` `
` "Then, I suppose," asked Caderousse, with eager, glowing `
` looks, "that it was a stone of immense value?" `
` `
` "Why, everything is relative," answered the abbe. "To one in `
` Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. `
` It was estimated at fifty thousand francs." `
` `
` "Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse, "fifty thousand francs! `
` Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all `
` that." `
` `
` "No," replied the abbe, "it was not of such a size as that; `
` but you shall judge for yourself. I have it with me." `
` `
` The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards `
` the priest's garments, as though hoping to discover the `
` location of the treasure. Calmly drawing forth from his `
` pocket a small box covered with black shagreen, the abbe `
` opened it, and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse `
` the sparkling jewel it contained, set in a ring of admirable `
` workmanship. "And that diamond," cried Caderousse, almost `
` breathless with eager admiration, "you say, is worth fifty `
` thousand francs?" `
` `
` "It is, without the setting, which is also valuable," `
` replied the abbe, as he closed the box, and returned it to `
` his pocket, while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance `
` before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. `
` `
` "But how comes the diamond in your possession, sir? Did `
` Edmond make you his heir?" `
` `
` "No, merely his testamentary executor. `I once possessed `
` four dear and faithful friends, besides the maiden to whom I `
` was betrothed' he said; `and I feel convinced they have all `
` unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the `
` four friends is Caderousse.'" The inn-keeper shivered. `
` `
` "`Another of the number,'" continued the abbe, without `
` seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, "`is called `
` Danglars; and the third, in spite of being my rival, `
` entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish `
` smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about `
` to break in upon the abbe's speech, when the latter, waving `
` his hand, said, "Allow me to finish first, and then if you `
` have any observations to make, you can do so afterwards. `
` `The third of my friends, although my rival, was much `
` attached to me, -- his name was Fernand; that of my `
` betrothed was' -- Stay, stay," continued the abbe, "I have `
` forgotten what he called her." `
` `
` "Mercedes," said Caderousse eagerly. `
` `
` "True," said the abbe, with a stifled sigh, "Mercedes it `
` was." `
` `
` "Go on," urged Caderousse. `
` `
` "Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbe. `
` `
` Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; and `
` after pouring some into a glass, and slowly swallowing its `
` contents, the abbe, resuming his usual placidity of manner, `
` said, as he placed his empty glass on the table, -- "Where `
` did we leave off?" `
` `
` "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes." `
` `
` "To be sure. `You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantes, -- `
` for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered `
` them. Do you understand?" `
` `
` "Perfectly." `
` `
` "`You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money into `
` five equal parts, and give an equal portion to these good `
` friends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'" `
` `
` "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only `
` mentioned four persons." `
` `
` "Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in `
` Edmond's bequest, was his own father." `
` `
` "Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almost `
` suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him, `
` "the poor old man did die." `
` `
` "I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbe, making `
` a strong effort to appear indifferent; "but from the length `
` of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder `
` Dantes, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. `
` Can you enlighten me on that point?" `
` `
` "I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. `
` "Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old `
` man. Ah, yes, about a year after the disappearance of his `
` son the poor old man died." `
` `
` "Of what did he die?" `
` `
` "Why, the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis, I `
` believe; his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, who `
` saw him in his dying moments, I say he died of" -- `
` Caderousse paused. `
` `
` "Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly. `
` `
` "Why, of downright starvation." `
` `
` "Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe, springing from his seat. `
` "Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a `
` death as that. The very dogs that wander houseless and `
` homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them `
` a mouthful of bread; and that a man, a Christian, should be `
` allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who `
` call themselves Christians, is too horrible for belief. Oh, `
` it is impossible -- utterly impossible!" `
` `
` "What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse. `
` `
` "And you are a fool for having said anything about it," said `
` a voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddle `
` with what does not concern you?" `
` `
` The two men turned quickly, and saw the sickly countenance `
` of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails; attracted `
` by the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself down `
` the stairs, and, seated on the lower step, head on knees, `
` she had listened to the foregoing conversation. "Mind your `
` own business, wife," replied Caderousse sharply. "This `
` gentleman asks me for information, which common politeness `
` will not permit me to refuse." `
` `
` "Politeness, you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. "What `
` have you to do with politeness, I should like to know? `
` Better study a little common prudence. How do you know the `
` motives that person may have for trying to extract all he `
` can from you?" `
` `
` "I pledge you my word, madam," said the abbe, "that my `
` intentions are good; and that you husband can incur no risk, `
` provided he answers me candidly." `
` `
` "Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing is `
` easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of `
` nothing to fear; but when poor, silly folks, like my husband `
` there, have been persuaded to tell all they know, the `
` promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten; and `
` at some moment when nobody is expecting it, behold trouble `
` and misery, and all sorts of persecutions, are heaped on the `
` unfortunate wretches, who cannot even see whence all their `
` afflictions come." `
` `
` "Nay, nay, my good woman, make yourself perfectly easy, I `
` beg of you. Whatever evils may befall you, they will not be `
` occasioned by my instrumentality, that I solemnly promise `
` you." `
` `
` La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words, then let her `
` head again drop upon her knees, and went into a fit of ague, `
` leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, but `
` remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. `
` Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of `
` water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. `
` When he had sufficiently recovered himself, he said, "It `
` appears, then, that the miserable old man you were telling `
` me of was forsaken by every one. Surely, had not such been `
` the case, he would not have perished by so dreadful a `
` death." `
` `
` "Why, he was not altogether forsaken," continued Caderousse, `
` "for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind `
` to him; but somehow the poor old man had contracted a `
` profound hatred for Fernand -- the very person," added `
` Caderousse with a bitter smile, "that you named just now as `
` being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends." `
` `
`
` mystery he had never been able to penetrate, and to clear `
` his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it." `
` `
` And here the look of the abbe, becoming more and more fixed, `
` seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy `
` depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance `
` of Caderousse. `
` `
` "A rich Englishman," continued the abbe, "who had been his `
` companion in misfortune, but had been released from prison `
` during the second restoration, was possessed of a diamond of `
` immense value; this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself `
` quitting the prison, as a mark of his gratitude for the `
` kindness and brotherly care with which Dantes had nursed him `
` in a severe illness he underwent during his confinement. `
` Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his `
` jailers, who might only have taken it and then betrayed him `
` to the governor, Dantes carefully preserved it, that in the `
` event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal `
` to live, for the sale of such a diamond would have quite `
` sufficed to make his fortune." `
` `
` "Then, I suppose," asked Caderousse, with eager, glowing `
` looks, "that it was a stone of immense value?" `
` `
` "Why, everything is relative," answered the abbe. "To one in `
` Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. `
` It was estimated at fifty thousand francs." `
` `
` "Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse, "fifty thousand francs! `
` Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all `
` that." `
` `
` "No," replied the abbe, "it was not of such a size as that; `
` but you shall judge for yourself. I have it with me." `
` `
` The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards `
` the priest's garments, as though hoping to discover the `
` location of the treasure. Calmly drawing forth from his `
` pocket a small box covered with black shagreen, the abbe `
` opened it, and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse `
` the sparkling jewel it contained, set in a ring of admirable `
` workmanship. "And that diamond," cried Caderousse, almost `
` breathless with eager admiration, "you say, is worth fifty `
` thousand francs?" `
` `
` "It is, without the setting, which is also valuable," `
` replied the abbe, as he closed the box, and returned it to `
` his pocket, while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance `
` before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. `
` `
` "But how comes the diamond in your possession, sir? Did `
` Edmond make you his heir?" `
` `
` "No, merely his testamentary executor. `I once possessed `
` four dear and faithful friends, besides the maiden to whom I `
` was betrothed' he said; `and I feel convinced they have all `
` unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the `
` four friends is Caderousse.'" The inn-keeper shivered. `
` `
` "`Another of the number,'" continued the abbe, without `
` seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, "`is called `
` Danglars; and the third, in spite of being my rival, `
` entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish `
` smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about `
` to break in upon the abbe's speech, when the latter, waving `
` his hand, said, "Allow me to finish first, and then if you `
` have any observations to make, you can do so afterwards. `
` `The third of my friends, although my rival, was much `
` attached to me, -- his name was Fernand; that of my `
` betrothed was' -- Stay, stay," continued the abbe, "I have `
` forgotten what he called her." `
` `
` "Mercedes," said Caderousse eagerly. `
` `
` "True," said the abbe, with a stifled sigh, "Mercedes it `
` was." `
` `
` "Go on," urged Caderousse. `
` `
` "Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbe. `
` `
` Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; and `
` after pouring some into a glass, and slowly swallowing its `
` contents, the abbe, resuming his usual placidity of manner, `
` said, as he placed his empty glass on the table, -- "Where `
` did we leave off?" `
` `
` "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes." `
` `
` "To be sure. `You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantes, -- `
` for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered `
` them. Do you understand?" `
` `
` "Perfectly." `
` `
` "`You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money into `
` five equal parts, and give an equal portion to these good `
` friends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'" `
` `
` "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only `
` mentioned four persons." `
` `
` "Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in `
` Edmond's bequest, was his own father." `
` `
` "Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almost `
` suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him, `
` "the poor old man did die." `
` `
` "I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbe, making `
` a strong effort to appear indifferent; "but from the length `
` of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder `
` Dantes, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. `
` Can you enlighten me on that point?" `
` `
` "I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. `
` "Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old `
` man. Ah, yes, about a year after the disappearance of his `
` son the poor old man died." `
` `
` "Of what did he die?" `
` `
` "Why, the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis, I `
` believe; his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, who `
` saw him in his dying moments, I say he died of" -- `
` Caderousse paused. `
` `
` "Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly. `
` `
` "Why, of downright starvation." `
` `
` "Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe, springing from his seat. `
` "Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a `
` death as that. The very dogs that wander houseless and `
` homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them `
` a mouthful of bread; and that a man, a Christian, should be `
` allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who `
` call themselves Christians, is too horrible for belief. Oh, `
` it is impossible -- utterly impossible!" `
` `
` "What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse. `
` `
` "And you are a fool for having said anything about it," said `
` a voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddle `
` with what does not concern you?" `
` `
` The two men turned quickly, and saw the sickly countenance `
` of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails; attracted `
` by the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself down `
` the stairs, and, seated on the lower step, head on knees, `
` she had listened to the foregoing conversation. "Mind your `
` own business, wife," replied Caderousse sharply. "This `
` gentleman asks me for information, which common politeness `
` will not permit me to refuse." `
` `
` "Politeness, you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. "What `
` have you to do with politeness, I should like to know? `
` Better study a little common prudence. How do you know the `
` motives that person may have for trying to extract all he `
` can from you?" `
` `
` "I pledge you my word, madam," said the abbe, "that my `
` intentions are good; and that you husband can incur no risk, `
` provided he answers me candidly." `
` `
` "Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing is `
` easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of `
` nothing to fear; but when poor, silly folks, like my husband `
` there, have been persuaded to tell all they know, the `
` promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten; and `
` at some moment when nobody is expecting it, behold trouble `
` and misery, and all sorts of persecutions, are heaped on the `
` unfortunate wretches, who cannot even see whence all their `
` afflictions come." `
` `
` "Nay, nay, my good woman, make yourself perfectly easy, I `
` beg of you. Whatever evils may befall you, they will not be `
` occasioned by my instrumentality, that I solemnly promise `
` you." `
` `
` La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words, then let her `
` head again drop upon her knees, and went into a fit of ague, `
` leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, but `
` remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. `
` Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of `
` water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. `
` When he had sufficiently recovered himself, he said, "It `
` appears, then, that the miserable old man you were telling `
` me of was forsaken by every one. Surely, had not such been `
` the case, he would not have perished by so dreadful a `
` death." `
` `
` "Why, he was not altogether forsaken," continued Caderousse, `
` "for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind `
` to him; but somehow the poor old man had contracted a `
` profound hatred for Fernand -- the very person," added `
` Caderousse with a bitter smile, "that you named just now as `
` being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends." `
` `
`