Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
with joy. `
` `
` "No," returned Monte Cristo "I only guessed. I knew a Lord `
` Wilmore, who was constantly doing actions of this kind." `
` `
` "Without revealing himself?" `
` `
` "He was an eccentric being, and did not believe in the `
` existence of gratitude." `
` `
` "Oh, heaven," exclaimed Julie, clasping her hands, "in what `
` did he believe, then?" `
` `
` "He did not credit it at the period which I knew him," said `
` Monte Cristo, touched to the heart by the accents of Julie's `
` voice; "but, perhaps, since then he has had proofs that `
` gratitude does exist." `
` `
` "And do you know this gentleman, monsieur?" inquired `
` Emmanuel. `
` `
` "Oh, if you do know him," cried Julie, "can you tell us `
` where he is -- where we can find him? 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." `
` `
` "Oh, monsieur, this is cruel of you," said Julie, much `
` affected; and the young lady's eyes swam with tears. `
` `
` "Madame," replied Monte Cristo gravely, and gazing earnestly `
` on the two liquid pearls that trickled down Julie's cheeks, `
` "had Lord Wilmore seen what I now see, he would become `
` attached to life, for the tears you shed would reconcile him `
` to mankind;" and he held out his hand to Julie, who gave him `
` hers, carried away by the look and accent of the count. `
` "But," continued she, "Lord Wilmore had a family or friends, `
` he must have known some one, can we not -- " `
` `
` "Oh, it is useless to inquire," returned the count; `
` "perhaps, after all, he was not the man you seek for. He was `
` my friend: he had no secrets from me, and if this had been `
` so he would have confided in me." `
` `
` "And he told you nothing?" `
` `
` "Not a word." `
` `
` "Nothing that would lead you to suppose?" `
` `
` "Nothing." `
` `
` "And yet you spoke of him at once." `
` `
` "Ah, in such a case one supposes" -- `
` `
` "Sister, sister," said Maximilian, coming to the count's `
` aid, "monsieur is quite right. Recollect what our excellent `
` father so often told us, `It was no Englishman that thus `
` saved us.'" Monte Cristo started. "What did your father tell `
` you, M. Morrel?" said he eagerly. `
` `
` "My father thought that this action had been miraculously `
` performed -- he believed that a benefactor had arisen from `
` the grave to save us. Oh, it was a touching superstition, `
` monsieur, and although I did not myself believe it, I would `
` not for the world have destroyed my father's faith. How `
` often did he muse over it and pronounce the name of a dear `
` friend -- a friend lost to him forever; and on his `
` death-bed, when the near approach of eternity seemed to have `
` illumined his mind with supernatural light, this thought, `
` which had until then been but a doubt, became a conviction, `
` and his last words were, `Maximilian, it was Edmond `
` Dantes!'" At these words the count's paleness, which had for `
` some time been increasing, became alarming; he could not `
` speak; he looked at his watch like a man who has forgotten `
` the hour, said a few hurried words to Madame Herbault, and `
` pressing the hands of Emmanuel and Maximilian, -- "Madame," `
` said he, "I trust you will allow me to visit you `
` occasionally; I value your friendship, and feel grateful to `
` you for your welcome, for this is the first time for many `
` years that I have thus yielded to my feelings;" and he `
` hastily quitted the apartment. `
` `
` "This Count of Monte Cristo is a strange man," said `
` Emmanuel. `
` `
` "Yes," answered Maximilian, "but I feel sure he has an `
` excellent heart, and that he likes us." `
` `
` "His voice went to my heart," observed Julie; "and two or `
` three times I fancied that I had heard it before." `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 51 `
` Pyramus and Thisbe. `
` `
` About two-thirds of the way along the Faubourg Saint-Honore, `
` and in the rear of one of the most imposing mansions in this `
` rich neighborhood, where the various houses vie with each `
` other for elegance of design and magnificence of `
` construction, extended a large garden, where the `
` wide-spreading chestnut-trees raised their heads high above `
` the walls in a solid rampart, and with the coming of every `
` spring scattered a shower of delicate pink and white `
` blossoms into the large stone vases that stood upon the two `
` square pilasters of a curiously wrought iron gate, that `
` dated from the time of Louis XII. This noble entrance, `
` however, in spite of its striking appearance and the `
` graceful effect of the geraniums planted in the two vases, `
` as they waved their variegated leaves in the wind and `
` charmed the eye with their scarlet bloom, had fallen into `
` utter disuse. The proprietors of the mansion had many years `
` before thought it best to confine themselves to the `
` possession of the house itself, with its thickly planted `
` court-yard, opening into the Faubourg Saint-Honore, and to `
` the garden shut in by this gate, which formerly communicated `
` with a fine kitchen-garden of about an acre. For the demon `
` of speculation drew a line, or in other words projected a `
` street, at the farther side of the kitchen-garden. The `
` street was laid out, a name was chosen and posted up on an `
` iron plate, but before construction was begun, it occurred `
` to the possessor of the property that a handsome sum might `
` be obtained for the ground then devoted to fruits and `
` vegetables, by building along the line of the proposed `
` street, and so making it a branch of communication with the `
` Faubourg Saint-Honore itself, one of the most important `
` thoroughfares in the city of Paris. `
` `
` In matters of speculation, however, though "man proposes," `
` "money disposes." From some such difficulty the newly named `
` street died almost in birth, and the purchaser of the `
` kitchen-garden, having paid a high price for it, and being `
` quite unable to find any one willing to take his bargain off `
` his hands without a considerable loss, yet still clinging to `
` the belief that at some future day he should obtain a sum `
` for it that would repay him, not only for his past outlay, `
` but also the interest upon the capital locked up in his new `
` acquisition, contented himself with letting the ground `
` temporarily to some market-gardeners, at a yearly rental of `
` 500 francs. And so, as we have said, the iron gate leading `
` into the kitchen-garden had been closed up and left to the `
` rust, which bade fair before long to eat off its hinges, `
` while to prevent the ignoble glances of the diggers and `
` delvers of the ground from presuming to sully the `
` aristocratic enclosure belonging to the mansion, the gate `
` had been boarded up to a height of six feet. True, the `
` planks were not so closely adjusted but that a hasty peep `
` might be obtained through their interstices; but the strict `
` decorum and rigid propriety of the inhabitants of the house `
` left no grounds for apprehending that advantage would be `
` taken of that circumstance. `
` `
` Horticulture seemed, however, to have been abandoned in the `
` deserted kitchen-garden; and where cabbages, carrots, `
` radishes, pease, and melons had once flourished, a scanty `
` crop of lucerne alone bore evidence of its being deemed `
` worthy of cultivation. A small, low door gave egress from `
` the walled space we have been describing into the projected `
` street, the ground having been abandoned as unproductive by `
` its various renters, and had now fallen so completely in `
` general estimation as to return not even the one-half per `
` cent it had originally paid. Towards the house the `
` chestnut-trees we have before mentioned rose high above the `
` wall, without in any way affecting the growth of other `
` luxuriant shrubs and flowers that eagerly dressed forward to `
` fill up the vacant spaces, as though asserting their right `
` to enjoy the boon of light and air. At one corner, where the `
` foliage became so thick as almost to shut out day, a large `
` stone bench and sundry rustic seats indicated that this `
` sheltered spot was either in general favor or particular use `
` by some inhabitant of the house, which was faintly `
` discernible through the dense mass of verdure that partially `
` concealed it, though situated but a hundred paces off. `
` `
` Whoever had selected this retired portion of the grounds as `
` the boundary of a walk, or as a place for meditation, was `
` abundantly justified in the choice by the absence of all `
` glare, the cool, refreshing shade, the screen it afforded `
` from the scorching rays of the sun, that found no entrance `
` there even during the burning days of hottest summer, the `
` incessant and melodious warbling of birds, and the entire `
` removal from either the noise of the street or the bustle of `
` the mansion. On the evening of one of the warmest days `
` spring had yet bestowed on the inhabitants of Paris, might `
` be seen negligently thrown upon the stone bench, a book, a `
` parasol, and a work-basket, from which hung a partly `
` embroidered cambric handkerchief, while at a little distance `
` from these articles was a young woman, standing close to the `
` iron gate, endeavoring to discern something on the other `
` side by means of the openings in the planks, -- the `
`
` `
` "No," returned Monte Cristo "I only guessed. I knew a Lord `
` Wilmore, who was constantly doing actions of this kind." `
` `
` "Without revealing himself?" `
` `
` "He was an eccentric being, and did not believe in the `
` existence of gratitude." `
` `
` "Oh, heaven," exclaimed Julie, clasping her hands, "in what `
` did he believe, then?" `
` `
` "He did not credit it at the period which I knew him," said `
` Monte Cristo, touched to the heart by the accents of Julie's `
` voice; "but, perhaps, since then he has had proofs that `
` gratitude does exist." `
` `
` "And do you know this gentleman, monsieur?" inquired `
` Emmanuel. `
` `
` "Oh, if you do know him," cried Julie, "can you tell us `
` where he is -- where we can find him? 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." `
` `
` "Oh, monsieur, this is cruel of you," said Julie, much `
` affected; and the young lady's eyes swam with tears. `
` `
` "Madame," replied Monte Cristo gravely, and gazing earnestly `
` on the two liquid pearls that trickled down Julie's cheeks, `
` "had Lord Wilmore seen what I now see, he would become `
` attached to life, for the tears you shed would reconcile him `
` to mankind;" and he held out his hand to Julie, who gave him `
` hers, carried away by the look and accent of the count. `
` "But," continued she, "Lord Wilmore had a family or friends, `
` he must have known some one, can we not -- " `
` `
` "Oh, it is useless to inquire," returned the count; `
` "perhaps, after all, he was not the man you seek for. He was `
` my friend: he had no secrets from me, and if this had been `
` so he would have confided in me." `
` `
` "And he told you nothing?" `
` `
` "Not a word." `
` `
` "Nothing that would lead you to suppose?" `
` `
` "Nothing." `
` `
` "And yet you spoke of him at once." `
` `
` "Ah, in such a case one supposes" -- `
` `
` "Sister, sister," said Maximilian, coming to the count's `
` aid, "monsieur is quite right. Recollect what our excellent `
` father so often told us, `It was no Englishman that thus `
` saved us.'" Monte Cristo started. "What did your father tell `
` you, M. Morrel?" said he eagerly. `
` `
` "My father thought that this action had been miraculously `
` performed -- he believed that a benefactor had arisen from `
` the grave to save us. Oh, it was a touching superstition, `
` monsieur, and although I did not myself believe it, I would `
` not for the world have destroyed my father's faith. How `
` often did he muse over it and pronounce the name of a dear `
` friend -- a friend lost to him forever; and on his `
` death-bed, when the near approach of eternity seemed to have `
` illumined his mind with supernatural light, this thought, `
` which had until then been but a doubt, became a conviction, `
` and his last words were, `Maximilian, it was Edmond `
` Dantes!'" At these words the count's paleness, which had for `
` some time been increasing, became alarming; he could not `
` speak; he looked at his watch like a man who has forgotten `
` the hour, said a few hurried words to Madame Herbault, and `
` pressing the hands of Emmanuel and Maximilian, -- "Madame," `
` said he, "I trust you will allow me to visit you `
` occasionally; I value your friendship, and feel grateful to `
` you for your welcome, for this is the first time for many `
` years that I have thus yielded to my feelings;" and he `
` hastily quitted the apartment. `
` `
` "This Count of Monte Cristo is a strange man," said `
` Emmanuel. `
` `
` "Yes," answered Maximilian, "but I feel sure he has an `
` excellent heart, and that he likes us." `
` `
` "His voice went to my heart," observed Julie; "and two or `
` three times I fancied that I had heard it before." `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 51 `
` Pyramus and Thisbe. `
` `
` About two-thirds of the way along the Faubourg Saint-Honore, `
` and in the rear of one of the most imposing mansions in this `
` rich neighborhood, where the various houses vie with each `
` other for elegance of design and magnificence of `
` construction, extended a large garden, where the `
` wide-spreading chestnut-trees raised their heads high above `
` the walls in a solid rampart, and with the coming of every `
` spring scattered a shower of delicate pink and white `
` blossoms into the large stone vases that stood upon the two `
` square pilasters of a curiously wrought iron gate, that `
` dated from the time of Louis XII. This noble entrance, `
` however, in spite of its striking appearance and the `
` graceful effect of the geraniums planted in the two vases, `
` as they waved their variegated leaves in the wind and `
` charmed the eye with their scarlet bloom, had fallen into `
` utter disuse. The proprietors of the mansion had many years `
` before thought it best to confine themselves to the `
` possession of the house itself, with its thickly planted `
` court-yard, opening into the Faubourg Saint-Honore, and to `
` the garden shut in by this gate, which formerly communicated `
` with a fine kitchen-garden of about an acre. For the demon `
` of speculation drew a line, or in other words projected a `
` street, at the farther side of the kitchen-garden. The `
` street was laid out, a name was chosen and posted up on an `
` iron plate, but before construction was begun, it occurred `
` to the possessor of the property that a handsome sum might `
` be obtained for the ground then devoted to fruits and `
` vegetables, by building along the line of the proposed `
` street, and so making it a branch of communication with the `
` Faubourg Saint-Honore itself, one of the most important `
` thoroughfares in the city of Paris. `
` `
` In matters of speculation, however, though "man proposes," `
` "money disposes." From some such difficulty the newly named `
` street died almost in birth, and the purchaser of the `
` kitchen-garden, having paid a high price for it, and being `
` quite unable to find any one willing to take his bargain off `
` his hands without a considerable loss, yet still clinging to `
` the belief that at some future day he should obtain a sum `
` for it that would repay him, not only for his past outlay, `
` but also the interest upon the capital locked up in his new `
` acquisition, contented himself with letting the ground `
` temporarily to some market-gardeners, at a yearly rental of `
` 500 francs. And so, as we have said, the iron gate leading `
` into the kitchen-garden had been closed up and left to the `
` rust, which bade fair before long to eat off its hinges, `
` while to prevent the ignoble glances of the diggers and `
` delvers of the ground from presuming to sully the `
` aristocratic enclosure belonging to the mansion, the gate `
` had been boarded up to a height of six feet. True, the `
` planks were not so closely adjusted but that a hasty peep `
` might be obtained through their interstices; but the strict `
` decorum and rigid propriety of the inhabitants of the house `
` left no grounds for apprehending that advantage would be `
` taken of that circumstance. `
` `
` Horticulture seemed, however, to have been abandoned in the `
` deserted kitchen-garden; and where cabbages, carrots, `
` radishes, pease, and melons had once flourished, a scanty `
` crop of lucerne alone bore evidence of its being deemed `
` worthy of cultivation. A small, low door gave egress from `
` the walled space we have been describing into the projected `
` street, the ground having been abandoned as unproductive by `
` its various renters, and had now fallen so completely in `
` general estimation as to return not even the one-half per `
` cent it had originally paid. Towards the house the `
` chestnut-trees we have before mentioned rose high above the `
` wall, without in any way affecting the growth of other `
` luxuriant shrubs and flowers that eagerly dressed forward to `
` fill up the vacant spaces, as though asserting their right `
` to enjoy the boon of light and air. At one corner, where the `
` foliage became so thick as almost to shut out day, a large `
` stone bench and sundry rustic seats indicated that this `
` sheltered spot was either in general favor or particular use `
` by some inhabitant of the house, which was faintly `
` discernible through the dense mass of verdure that partially `
` concealed it, though situated but a hundred paces off. `
` `
` Whoever had selected this retired portion of the grounds as `
` the boundary of a walk, or as a place for meditation, was `
` abundantly justified in the choice by the absence of all `
` glare, the cool, refreshing shade, the screen it afforded `
` from the scorching rays of the sun, that found no entrance `
` there even during the burning days of hottest summer, the `
` incessant and melodious warbling of birds, and the entire `
` removal from either the noise of the street or the bustle of `
` the mansion. On the evening of one of the warmest days `
` spring had yet bestowed on the inhabitants of Paris, might `
` be seen negligently thrown upon the stone bench, a book, a `
` parasol, and a work-basket, from which hung a partly `
` embroidered cambric handkerchief, while at a little distance `
` from these articles was a young woman, standing close to the `
` iron gate, endeavoring to discern something on the other `
` side by means of the openings in the planks, -- the `
`