Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.11-39
"And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the `
` abbe; "if not, you were an accomplice." `
` `
` "Sir," replied Caderousse, "they had made me drink to such `
` an excess that I nearly lost all perception. I had only an `
` indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. I `
` said all that a man in such a state could say; but they both `
` assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on, and `
` perfectly harmless." `
` `
` "Next day -- next day, sir, you must have seen plain enough `
` what they had been doing, yet you said nothing, though you `
` were present when Dantes was arrested." `
` `
` "Yes, sir, I was there, and very anxious to speak; but `
` Danglars restrained me. `If he should really be guilty,' `
` said he, `and did really put in to the Island of Elba; if he `
` is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist `
` committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon him, `
` those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices.' `
` I confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics `
` then were, and I held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, `
` but it was not criminal." `
` `
` "I understand -- you allowed matters to take their course, `
` that was all." `
` `
` "Yes, sir," answered Caderousse; "and remorse preys on me `
` night and day. I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, `
` because this action, the only one with which I have `
` seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is no doubt the `
` cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of `
` selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she `
` complains, `Hold your tongue, woman; it is the will of `
` God.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real `
` repentance. `
` `
` "Well, sir," said the abbe, "you have spoken unreservedly; `
` and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." `
` `
` "Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me." `
` `
` "He did not know," said the abbe. `
` `
` "But he knows it all now," interrupted Caderousse; "they say `
` the dead know everything." There was a brief silence; the `
` abbe rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed `
` his seat. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. `
` Morrel," he said; "who was he?" `
` `
` "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes." `
` `
` "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the `
` abbe. `
` `
` "The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. `
` Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor `
` returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so `
` energetically, that on the second restoration he was `
` persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he `
` came to see Dantes' father, and offered to receive him in `
` his own house; and the night or two before his death, as I `
` have already said, he left his purse on the mantelpiece, `
` with which they paid the old man's debts, and buried him `
` decently; and so Edmond's father died, as he had lived, `
` without doing harm to any one. I have the purse still by me `
` -- a large one, made of red silk." `
` `
` "And," asked the abbe, "is M. Morrel still alive?" `
` `
` "Yes," replied Caderousse. `
` `
` "In that case," replied the abbe, "he should be rich, `
` happy." `
` `
` Caderousse smiled bitterly. "Yes, happy as myself," said he. `
` `
` "What! M. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe. `
` `
` "He is reduced almost to the last extremity -- nay, he is `
` almost at the point of dishonor." `
` `
` "How?" `
` `
` "Yes," continued Caderousse, "so it is; after five and `
` twenty years of labor, after having acquired a most `
` honorable name in the trade of Marseilles, M. Morrel is `
` utterly ruined; he has lost five ships in two years, has `
` suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses, and his `
` only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes `
` commanded, and which is expected from the Indies with a `
` cargo of cochineal and indigo. If this ship founders, like `
` the others, he is a ruined man." `
` `
` "And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the `
` abbe. `
` `
` "Yes, he has a wife, who through everything has behaved like `
` an angel; he has a daughter, who was about to marry the man `
` she loved, but whose family now will not allow him to wed `
` the daughter of a ruined man; he has, besides, a son, a `
` lieutenant in the army; and, as you may suppose, all this, `
` instead of lessening, only augments his sorrows. If he were `
` alone in the world he would blow out his brains, and there `
` would be an end." `
` `
` "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. `
` `
` "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue, sir," added `
` Caderousse. "You see, I, who never did a bad action but that `
` I have told you of -- am in destitution, with my poor wife `
` dying of fever before my very eyes, and I unable to do `
` anything in the world for her; I shall die of hunger, as old `
` Dantes did, while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in `
` wealth." `
` `
` "How is that?" `
` `
` "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune, while `
` honest men have been reduced to misery." `
` `
` "What has become of Danglars, the instigator, and therefore `
` the most guilty?" `
` `
` "What has become of him? Why, he left Marseilles, and was `
` taken, on the recommendation of M. Morrel, who did not know `
` his crime, as cashier into a Spanish bank. During the war `
` with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French `
` army, and made a fortune; then with that money he speculated `
` in the funds, and trebled or quadrupled his capital; and, `
` having first married his banker's daughter, who left him a `
` widower, he has married a second time, a widow, a Madame de `
` Nargonne, daughter of M. de Servieux, the king's `
` chamberlain, who is in high favor at court. He is a `
` millionaire, and they have made him a baron, and now he is `
` the Baron Danglars, with a fine residence in the Rue de `
` Mont-Blanc, with ten horses in his stables, six footmen in `
` his ante-chamber, and I know not how many millions in his `
` strongbox." `
` `
` "Ah!" said the abbe, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy." `
` `
` "Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is `
` the secret known but to one's self and the walls -- walls `
` have ears but no tongue; but if a large fortune produces `
` happiness, Danglars is happy." `
` `
` "And Fernand?" `
` `
` "Fernand? Why, much the same story." `
` `
` "But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy, without education `
` or resources, make a fortune? I confess this staggers me." `
` `
` "And it has staggered everybody. There must have been in his `
` life some strange secret that no one knows." `
` `
` "But, then, by what visible steps has he attained this high `
` fortune or high position?" `
` `
` "Both, sir -- he has both fortune and position -- both." `
` `
` "This must be impossible!" `
` `
` "It would seem so; but listen, and you will understand. Some `
` days before the return of the emperor, Fernand was drafted. `
` The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans, but `
` Napoleon returned, a special levy was made, and Fernand was `
` compelled to join. I went too; but as I was older than `
` Fernand, and had just married my poor wife, I was only sent `
` to the coast. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop, went `
` to the frontier with his regiment, and was at the battle of `
` Ligny. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door `
` of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the `
` enemy. That same night the general was to go over to the `
` English. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him; Fernand `
` agreed to do so, deserted his post, and followed the `
` general. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon `
` had remained on the throne, but his action was rewarded by `
` the Bourbons. He returned to France with the epaulet of `
` sub-lieutenant, and as the protection of the general, who is `
` in the highest favor, was accorded to him, he was a captain `
` in 1823, during the Spanish war -- that is to say, at the `
` time when Danglars made his early speculations. Fernand was `
` a Spaniard, and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling `
` of his fellow-countrymen, found Danglars there, got on very `
` intimate terms with him, won over the support of the `
` royalists at the capital and in the provinces, received `
` promises and made pledges on his own part, guided his `
` regiment by paths known to himself alone through the `
` mountain gorges which were held by the royalists, and, in `
` fact, rendered such services in this brief campaign that, `
` after the taking of Trocadero, he was made colonel, and `
` received the title of count and the cross of an officer of `
` the Legion of Honor." `
` `
` "Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe. `
` `
` "Yes, but listen: this was not all. The war with Spain being `
` ended, Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which `
` seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. Greece only had `
`
` abbe; "if not, you were an accomplice." `
` `
` "Sir," replied Caderousse, "they had made me drink to such `
` an excess that I nearly lost all perception. I had only an `
` indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. I `
` said all that a man in such a state could say; but they both `
` assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on, and `
` perfectly harmless." `
` `
` "Next day -- next day, sir, you must have seen plain enough `
` what they had been doing, yet you said nothing, though you `
` were present when Dantes was arrested." `
` `
` "Yes, sir, I was there, and very anxious to speak; but `
` Danglars restrained me. `If he should really be guilty,' `
` said he, `and did really put in to the Island of Elba; if he `
` is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist `
` committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon him, `
` those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices.' `
` I confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics `
` then were, and I held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, `
` but it was not criminal." `
` `
` "I understand -- you allowed matters to take their course, `
` that was all." `
` `
` "Yes, sir," answered Caderousse; "and remorse preys on me `
` night and day. I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, `
` because this action, the only one with which I have `
` seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is no doubt the `
` cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of `
` selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she `
` complains, `Hold your tongue, woman; it is the will of `
` God.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real `
` repentance. `
` `
` "Well, sir," said the abbe, "you have spoken unreservedly; `
` and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." `
` `
` "Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me." `
` `
` "He did not know," said the abbe. `
` `
` "But he knows it all now," interrupted Caderousse; "they say `
` the dead know everything." There was a brief silence; the `
` abbe rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed `
` his seat. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. `
` Morrel," he said; "who was he?" `
` `
` "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes." `
` `
` "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the `
` abbe. `
` `
` "The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. `
` Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor `
` returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so `
` energetically, that on the second restoration he was `
` persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he `
` came to see Dantes' father, and offered to receive him in `
` his own house; and the night or two before his death, as I `
` have already said, he left his purse on the mantelpiece, `
` with which they paid the old man's debts, and buried him `
` decently; and so Edmond's father died, as he had lived, `
` without doing harm to any one. I have the purse still by me `
` -- a large one, made of red silk." `
` `
` "And," asked the abbe, "is M. Morrel still alive?" `
` `
` "Yes," replied Caderousse. `
` `
` "In that case," replied the abbe, "he should be rich, `
` happy." `
` `
` Caderousse smiled bitterly. "Yes, happy as myself," said he. `
` `
` "What! M. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe. `
` `
` "He is reduced almost to the last extremity -- nay, he is `
` almost at the point of dishonor." `
` `
` "How?" `
` `
` "Yes," continued Caderousse, "so it is; after five and `
` twenty years of labor, after having acquired a most `
` honorable name in the trade of Marseilles, M. Morrel is `
` utterly ruined; he has lost five ships in two years, has `
` suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses, and his `
` only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes `
` commanded, and which is expected from the Indies with a `
` cargo of cochineal and indigo. If this ship founders, like `
` the others, he is a ruined man." `
` `
` "And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the `
` abbe. `
` `
` "Yes, he has a wife, who through everything has behaved like `
` an angel; he has a daughter, who was about to marry the man `
` she loved, but whose family now will not allow him to wed `
` the daughter of a ruined man; he has, besides, a son, a `
` lieutenant in the army; and, as you may suppose, all this, `
` instead of lessening, only augments his sorrows. If he were `
` alone in the world he would blow out his brains, and there `
` would be an end." `
` `
` "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. `
` `
` "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue, sir," added `
` Caderousse. "You see, I, who never did a bad action but that `
` I have told you of -- am in destitution, with my poor wife `
` dying of fever before my very eyes, and I unable to do `
` anything in the world for her; I shall die of hunger, as old `
` Dantes did, while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in `
` wealth." `
` `
` "How is that?" `
` `
` "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune, while `
` honest men have been reduced to misery." `
` `
` "What has become of Danglars, the instigator, and therefore `
` the most guilty?" `
` `
` "What has become of him? Why, he left Marseilles, and was `
` taken, on the recommendation of M. Morrel, who did not know `
` his crime, as cashier into a Spanish bank. During the war `
` with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French `
` army, and made a fortune; then with that money he speculated `
` in the funds, and trebled or quadrupled his capital; and, `
` having first married his banker's daughter, who left him a `
` widower, he has married a second time, a widow, a Madame de `
` Nargonne, daughter of M. de Servieux, the king's `
` chamberlain, who is in high favor at court. He is a `
` millionaire, and they have made him a baron, and now he is `
` the Baron Danglars, with a fine residence in the Rue de `
` Mont-Blanc, with ten horses in his stables, six footmen in `
` his ante-chamber, and I know not how many millions in his `
` strongbox." `
` `
` "Ah!" said the abbe, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy." `
` `
` "Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is `
` the secret known but to one's self and the walls -- walls `
` have ears but no tongue; but if a large fortune produces `
` happiness, Danglars is happy." `
` `
` "And Fernand?" `
` `
` "Fernand? Why, much the same story." `
` `
` "But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy, without education `
` or resources, make a fortune? I confess this staggers me." `
` `
` "And it has staggered everybody. There must have been in his `
` life some strange secret that no one knows." `
` `
` "But, then, by what visible steps has he attained this high `
` fortune or high position?" `
` `
` "Both, sir -- he has both fortune and position -- both." `
` `
` "This must be impossible!" `
` `
` "It would seem so; but listen, and you will understand. Some `
` days before the return of the emperor, Fernand was drafted. `
` The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans, but `
` Napoleon returned, a special levy was made, and Fernand was `
` compelled to join. I went too; but as I was older than `
` Fernand, and had just married my poor wife, I was only sent `
` to the coast. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop, went `
` to the frontier with his regiment, and was at the battle of `
` Ligny. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door `
` of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the `
` enemy. That same night the general was to go over to the `
` English. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him; Fernand `
` agreed to do so, deserted his post, and followed the `
` general. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon `
` had remained on the throne, but his action was rewarded by `
` the Bourbons. He returned to France with the epaulet of `
` sub-lieutenant, and as the protection of the general, who is `
` in the highest favor, was accorded to him, he was a captain `
` in 1823, during the Spanish war -- that is to say, at the `
` time when Danglars made his early speculations. Fernand was `
` a Spaniard, and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling `
` of his fellow-countrymen, found Danglars there, got on very `
` intimate terms with him, won over the support of the `
` royalists at the capital and in the provinces, received `
` promises and made pledges on his own part, guided his `
` regiment by paths known to himself alone through the `
` mountain gorges which were held by the royalists, and, in `
` fact, rendered such services in this brief campaign that, `
` after the taking of Trocadero, he was made colonel, and `
` received the title of count and the cross of an officer of `
` the Legion of Honor." `
` `
` "Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe. `
` `
` "Yes, but listen: this was not all. The war with Spain being `
` ended, Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which `
` seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. Greece only had `
`