Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
`
` "What a question!" `
` `
` "Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich or `
` poor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? `
` They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open some `
` mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies." `
` `
` "Which means?" `
` `
` "Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those `
` fishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since he `
` calls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled with `
` gold." `
` `
` "And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "No, but Franz has; for heaven's sake, not a word of this `
` before him. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded, and was `
` waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a `
` painted strumpet. Only he is not quite sure about the women, `
` for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish, `
` so that what he took for women might have been simply a row `
` of statues." `
` `
` The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say, -- "Are `
` you mad, or are you laughing at us?" `
` `
` "And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heard `
` something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." `
` `
` "Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comes `
` to aid me; you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives a `
` clew to the labyrinth?" `
` `
` "My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is so `
` extraordinary." `
` `
` "Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell `
` you of them -- they have no time. They are too much taken up `
` with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who `
` travel." `
` `
` "Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will you `
` have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries `
` every day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you be `
` ambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople." `
` `
` "No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of `
` Mehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make my `
` secretaries strangle me." `
` `
` "You say very true," responded Debray. `
` `
` "Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with the `
` existence of the Count of Monte Cristo." `
` `
` "Pardieu, every one exists." `
` `
` "Doubtless, but not in the same way; every one has not black `
` slaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that would `
` do credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost six `
` thousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses." `
` `
` "Have you seen the Greek mistress?" `
` `
` "I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre, `
` and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the `
` count." `
` `
` "He eats, then?" `
` `
` "Yes; but so little, it can hardly be called eating." `
` `
` "He must be a vampire." `
` `
` "Laugh, if you will; the Countess G---- , who knew Lord `
` Ruthven, declared that the count was a vampire." `
` `
` "Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected with `
` newspapers, here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of `
` the Constitutionnel." `
` `
` "Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates at `
` pleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed, `
` magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharp `
` and white teeth, politeness unexceptionable." `
` `
` "Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf; "you have described him `
` feature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. This `
` man has often made me shudder; and one day that we were `
` viewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more from `
` hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every `
` description of torture, than from the sight of the `
` executioner and the culprit." `
` `
` "Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and `
` suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flaming `
` parchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his `
` birth-right?" `
` `
` "Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf, `
` somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers on `
` the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think of `
` this man, it seems to me we are not of the same race." `
` `
` "I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the same `
` time," added Chateau-Renaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo is `
` a very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangements `
` with the Italian banditti." `
` `
` "There are no Italian banditti," said Debray. `
` `
` "No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo" `
` added Debray. "There is half-past ten striking, Albert." `
` `
` "Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down to `
` breakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clock `
` had not died away when Germain announced, "His excellency `
` the Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every one `
` gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them, `
` and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting `
` sudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in the `
` street, or steps in the ante-chamber; the door had itself `
` opened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with the `
` greatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy could `
` have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every article `
` of dress -- hat, coat, gloves, and boots -- was from the `
` first makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But what `
` struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait `
` Debray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into the `
` centre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastened `
` towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. `
` "Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness of `
` kings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think; but it `
` is not the same with travellers. However, I hope you will `
` excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand; five `
` hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some `
` trouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it is `
` forbidden to beat the postilions." `
` `
` "My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing your `
` visit to some of my friends, whom I had invited in `
` consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, and `
` whom I now present to you. They are the Count of `
` Chateau-Renaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelve `
` peers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table; `
` M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of the `
` interior; M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terror `
` of the French government, but of whom, in spite of his `
` national celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy, `
` since his paper is prohibited there; and M. Maximilian `
` Morrel, captain of Spahis." `
` `
` At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every one `
` with courtesy, but at the same time with coldness and `
` formality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of red `
` colored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the new `
` French conquerors, monsieur," said he; "it is a handsome `
` uniform." No one could have said what caused the count's `
` voice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash, `
` which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when he `
` pleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" said `
` Albert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this time `
` perfectly master of himself again. `
` `
` "Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and `
` noblest hearts in the whole army." `
` `
` "Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel. `
` `
` "Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continued `
` Albert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that, `
` although I have seen him to-day for the first time, I `
` request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." At `
` these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo `
` the concentrated look, changing color, and slight trembling `
` of the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a noble `
` heart," said the count; "so much the better." This `
` exclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thought `
` rather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody, `
` and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo with `
` wonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so soft `
` that, however strange the speech might seem, it was `
` impossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?" `
` said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. `
` `
` "In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocratic `
` glance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated at `
` once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert has `
` not deceived us, for the count is a most singular being. `
` What say you, Morrel!" `
` `
` "Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, in `
` spite of the singular remark he has made about me." `
` `
` "Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfast `
` is ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." They `
` passed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one took `
`
` "What a question!" `
` `
` "Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich or `
` poor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? `
` They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open some `
` mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies." `
` `
` "Which means?" `
` `
` "Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those `
` fishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since he `
` calls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled with `
` gold." `
` `
` "And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "No, but Franz has; for heaven's sake, not a word of this `
` before him. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded, and was `
` waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a `
` painted strumpet. Only he is not quite sure about the women, `
` for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish, `
` so that what he took for women might have been simply a row `
` of statues." `
` `
` The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say, -- "Are `
` you mad, or are you laughing at us?" `
` `
` "And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heard `
` something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." `
` `
` "Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comes `
` to aid me; you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives a `
` clew to the labyrinth?" `
` `
` "My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is so `
` extraordinary." `
` `
` "Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell `
` you of them -- they have no time. They are too much taken up `
` with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who `
` travel." `
` `
` "Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will you `
` have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries `
` every day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you be `
` ambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople." `
` `
` "No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of `
` Mehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make my `
` secretaries strangle me." `
` `
` "You say very true," responded Debray. `
` `
` "Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with the `
` existence of the Count of Monte Cristo." `
` `
` "Pardieu, every one exists." `
` `
` "Doubtless, but not in the same way; every one has not black `
` slaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that would `
` do credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost six `
` thousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses." `
` `
` "Have you seen the Greek mistress?" `
` `
` "I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre, `
` and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the `
` count." `
` `
` "He eats, then?" `
` `
` "Yes; but so little, it can hardly be called eating." `
` `
` "He must be a vampire." `
` `
` "Laugh, if you will; the Countess G---- , who knew Lord `
` Ruthven, declared that the count was a vampire." `
` `
` "Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected with `
` newspapers, here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of `
` the Constitutionnel." `
` `
` "Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates at `
` pleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed, `
` magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharp `
` and white teeth, politeness unexceptionable." `
` `
` "Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf; "you have described him `
` feature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. This `
` man has often made me shudder; and one day that we were `
` viewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more from `
` hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every `
` description of torture, than from the sight of the `
` executioner and the culprit." `
` `
` "Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and `
` suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flaming `
` parchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his `
` birth-right?" `
` `
` "Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf, `
` somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers on `
` the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think of `
` this man, it seems to me we are not of the same race." `
` `
` "I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the same `
` time," added Chateau-Renaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo is `
` a very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangements `
` with the Italian banditti." `
` `
` "There are no Italian banditti," said Debray. `
` `
` "No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo" `
` added Debray. "There is half-past ten striking, Albert." `
` `
` "Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down to `
` breakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clock `
` had not died away when Germain announced, "His excellency `
` the Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every one `
` gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them, `
` and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting `
` sudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in the `
` street, or steps in the ante-chamber; the door had itself `
` opened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with the `
` greatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy could `
` have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every article `
` of dress -- hat, coat, gloves, and boots -- was from the `
` first makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But what `
` struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait `
` Debray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into the `
` centre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastened `
` towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. `
` "Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness of `
` kings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think; but it `
` is not the same with travellers. However, I hope you will `
` excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand; five `
` hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some `
` trouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it is `
` forbidden to beat the postilions." `
` `
` "My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing your `
` visit to some of my friends, whom I had invited in `
` consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, and `
` whom I now present to you. They are the Count of `
` Chateau-Renaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelve `
` peers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table; `
` M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of the `
` interior; M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terror `
` of the French government, but of whom, in spite of his `
` national celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy, `
` since his paper is prohibited there; and M. Maximilian `
` Morrel, captain of Spahis." `
` `
` At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every one `
` with courtesy, but at the same time with coldness and `
` formality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of red `
` colored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the new `
` French conquerors, monsieur," said he; "it is a handsome `
` uniform." No one could have said what caused the count's `
` voice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash, `
` which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when he `
` pleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" said `
` Albert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this time `
` perfectly master of himself again. `
` `
` "Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and `
` noblest hearts in the whole army." `
` `
` "Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel. `
` `
` "Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continued `
` Albert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that, `
` although I have seen him to-day for the first time, I `
` request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." At `
` these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo `
` the concentrated look, changing color, and slight trembling `
` of the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a noble `
` heart," said the count; "so much the better." This `
` exclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thought `
` rather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody, `
` and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo with `
` wonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so soft `
` that, however strange the speech might seem, it was `
` impossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?" `
` said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. `
` `
` "In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocratic `
` glance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated at `
` once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert has `
` not deceived us, for the count is a most singular being. `
` What say you, Morrel!" `
` `
` "Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, in `
` spite of the singular remark he has made about me." `
` `
` "Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfast `
` is ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." They `
` passed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one took `
`