Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.75-117
low-born nature, which would escape sometimes through the `
` aristocratic gloss with which he sought to conceal it. `
` Correcting himself immediately, he said, "Excuse me, sir; `
` hope alone makes me almost mad, -- what will not reality `
` do?" `
` `
` "But," said Danglars, -- who, on his part, did not perceive `
` how soon the conversation, which was at first disinterested, `
` was turning to a business transaction, -- "there is, `
` doubtless, a part of your fortune your father could not `
` refuse you?" `
` `
` "Which?" asked the young man. `
` `
` "That you inherit from your mother." `
` `
` "Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari." `
` `
` "How much may it amount to?" `
` `
` "Indeed, sir," said Andrea, "I assure you I have never given `
` the subject a thought, but I suppose it must have been at `
` least two millions." Danglars felt as much overcome with joy `
` as the miser who finds a lost treasure, or as the `
` shipwrecked mariner who feels himself on solid ground `
` instead of in the abyss which he expected would swallow him `
` up. `
` `
` "Well, sir," said Andrea, bowing to the banker respectfully, `
` "may I hope?" `
` `
` "You may not only hope," said Danglars, "but consider it a `
` settled thing, if no obstacle arises on your part." `
` `
` "I am, indeed, rejoiced," said Andrea. `
` `
` "But," said Danglars thoughtfully, "how is it that your `
` patron, M. de Monte Cristo, did not make his proposal for `
` you?" Andrea blushed imperceptibly. "I have just left the `
` count, sir," said he; "he is, doubtless, a delightful man `
` but inconceivably peculiar in his ideas. He esteems me `
` highly. He even told me he had not the slightest doubt that `
` my father would give me the capital instead of the interest `
` of my property. He has promised to use his influence to `
` obtain it for me; but he also declared that he never had `
` taken on himself the responsibility of making proposals for `
` another, and he never would. I must, however, do him the `
` justice to add that he assured me if ever he had regretted `
` the repugnance he felt to such a step it was on this `
` occasion, because he thought the projected union would be a `
` happy and suitable one. Besides, if he will do nothing `
` officially, he will answer any questions you propose to him. `
` And now," continued he, with one of his most charming `
` smiles, "having finished talking to the father-in-law, I `
` must address myself to the banker." `
` `
` "And what may you have to say to him?" said Danglars, `
` laughing in his turn. `
` `
` "That the day after to-morrow I shall have to draw upon you `
` for about four thousand francs; but the count, expecting my `
` bachelor's revenue could not suffice for the coming month's `
` outlay, has offered me a draft for twenty thousand francs. `
` It bears his signature, as you see, which is `
` all-sufficient." `
` `
` "Bring me a million such as that," said Danglars, "I shall `
` be well pleased," putting the draft in his pocket. "Fix your `
` own hour for to-morrow, and my cashier shall call on you `
` with a check for eighty thousand francs." `
` `
` "At ten o'clock then, if you please; I should like it early, `
` as I am going into the country to-morrow." `
` `
` "Very well, at ten o'clock; you are still at the Hotel des `
` Princes?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` The following morning, with the banker's usual punctuality, `
` the eighty thousand francs were placed in the young man's `
` hands as he was on the point of starting, after having left `
` two hundred francs for Caderousse. He went out chiefly to `
` avoid this dangerous enemy, and returned as late as possible `
` in the evening. But scarcely had be stepped out of his `
` carriage when the porter met him with a parcel in his hand. `
` "Sir," said he, "that man has been here." `
` `
` "What man?" said Andrea carelessly, apparently forgetting `
` him whom he but too well recollected. `
` `
` "Him to whom your excellency pays that little annuity." `
` `
` "Oh," said Andrea, "my father's old servant. Well, you gave `
` him the two hundred francs I had left for him?" `
` `
` "Yes, your excellency." Andrea had expressed a wish to be `
` thus addressed. "But," continued the porter, "he would not `
` take them." Andrea turned pale, but as it was dark his `
` pallor was not perceptible. "What? he would not take them?" `
` said he with slight emotion. `
` `
` "No, he wished to speak to your excellency; I told him you `
` were gone out, and after some dispute he believed me and `
` gave me this letter, which he had brought with him already `
` sealed." `
` `
` "Give it me," said Andrea, and he read by the light of his `
` carriage-lamp, -- "You know where I live; I expect you `
` tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." `
` `
` Andrea examined it carefully, to ascertain if the letter had `
` been opened, or if any indiscreet eyes had seen its `
` contents; but it was so carefully folded, that no one could `
` have read it, and the seal was perfect. "Very well," said `
` he. "Poor man, he is a worthy creature." He left the porter `
` to ponder on these words, not knowing which most to admire, `
` the master or the servant. "Take out the horses quickly, and `
` come up to me," said Andrea to his groom. In two seconds the `
` young man had reached his room and burnt Caderousse's `
` letter. The servant entered just as he had finished. "You `
` are about my height, Pierre," said he. `
` `
` "I have that honor, your excellency." `
` `
` "You had a new livery yesterday?" `
` `
` "Yes, sir." `
` `
` "I have an engagement with a pretty little girl for this `
` evening, and do not wish to be known; lend me your livery `
` till to-morrow. I may sleep, perhaps, at an inn." Pierre `
` obeyed. Five minutes after, Andrea left the hotel, `
` completely disguised, took a cabriolet, and ordered the `
` driver to take him to the Cheval Rouge, at Picpus. The next `
` morning he left that inn as he had left the Hotel des `
` Princes, without being noticed, walked down the Faubourg St. `
` Antoine, along the boulevard to Rue Menilmontant, and `
` stopping at the door of the third house on the left looked `
` for some one of whom to make inquiry in the porter's `
` absence. "For whom are you looking, my fine fellow?" asked `
` the fruiteress on the opposite side. `
` `
` "Monsieur Pailletin, if you please, my good woman," replied `
` Andrea. `
` `
` "A retired baker?" asked the fruiteress. `
` `
` "Exactly." `
` `
` "He lives at the end of the yard, on the left, on the third `
` story." Andrea went as she directed him, and on the third `
` floor he found a hare's paw, which, by the hasty ringing of `
` the bell, it was evident he pulled with considerable `
` ill-temper. A moment after Caderousse's face appeared at the `
` grating in the door. "Ah, you are punctual," said he, as he `
` drew back the door. `
` `
` "Confound you and your punctuality!" said Andrea, throwing `
` himself into a chair in a manner which implied that he would `
` rather have flung it at the head of his host. `
` `
` "Come, come, my little fellow, don't be angry. See, I have `
` thought about you -- look at the good breakfast we are going `
` to have; nothing but what you are fond of." Andrea, indeed, `
` inhaled the scent of something cooking which was not `
` unwelcome to him, hungry as he was; it was that mixture of `
` fat and garlic peculiar to provincial kitchens of an `
` inferior order, added to that of dried fish, and above all, `
` the pungent smell of musk and cloves. These odors escaped `
` from two deep dishes which were covered and placed on a `
` stove, and from a copper pan placed in an old iron pot. In `
` an adjoining room Andrea saw also a tolerably clean table `
` prepared for two, two bottles of wine sealed, the one with `
` green, the other with yellow, a supply of brandy in a `
` decanter, and a measure of fruit in a cabbage-leaf, cleverly `
` arranged on an earthenware plate. `
` `
` "What do you think of it, my little fellow?" said `
` Caderousse. "Ay, that smells good! You know I used to be a `
` famous cook; do you recollect how you used to lick your `
` fingers? You were among the first who tasted any of my `
` dishes, and I think you relished them tolerably." While `
` speaking, Caderousse went on peeling a fresh supply of `
` onions. `
` `
` "But," said Andrea, ill-temperedly, "by my faith, if it was `
` only to breakfast with you, that you disturbed me, I wish `
` the devil had taken you!" `
` `
` "My boy," said Caderousse sententiously, "one can talk while `
` eating. And then, you ungrateful being, you are not pleased `
` to see an old friend? I am weeping with joy." He was truly `
` crying, but it would have been difficult to say whether joy `
` or the onions produced the greatest effect on the lachrymal `
` glands of the old inn-keeper of the Pont-du-Gard. "Hold your `
` tongue, hypocrite," said Andrea; "you love me!" `
` `
` "Yes, I do, or may the devil take me. I know it is a `
` weakness," said Caderousse, "but it overpowers me." `
` `
`
` aristocratic gloss with which he sought to conceal it. `
` Correcting himself immediately, he said, "Excuse me, sir; `
` hope alone makes me almost mad, -- what will not reality `
` do?" `
` `
` "But," said Danglars, -- who, on his part, did not perceive `
` how soon the conversation, which was at first disinterested, `
` was turning to a business transaction, -- "there is, `
` doubtless, a part of your fortune your father could not `
` refuse you?" `
` `
` "Which?" asked the young man. `
` `
` "That you inherit from your mother." `
` `
` "Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari." `
` `
` "How much may it amount to?" `
` `
` "Indeed, sir," said Andrea, "I assure you I have never given `
` the subject a thought, but I suppose it must have been at `
` least two millions." Danglars felt as much overcome with joy `
` as the miser who finds a lost treasure, or as the `
` shipwrecked mariner who feels himself on solid ground `
` instead of in the abyss which he expected would swallow him `
` up. `
` `
` "Well, sir," said Andrea, bowing to the banker respectfully, `
` "may I hope?" `
` `
` "You may not only hope," said Danglars, "but consider it a `
` settled thing, if no obstacle arises on your part." `
` `
` "I am, indeed, rejoiced," said Andrea. `
` `
` "But," said Danglars thoughtfully, "how is it that your `
` patron, M. de Monte Cristo, did not make his proposal for `
` you?" Andrea blushed imperceptibly. "I have just left the `
` count, sir," said he; "he is, doubtless, a delightful man `
` but inconceivably peculiar in his ideas. He esteems me `
` highly. He even told me he had not the slightest doubt that `
` my father would give me the capital instead of the interest `
` of my property. He has promised to use his influence to `
` obtain it for me; but he also declared that he never had `
` taken on himself the responsibility of making proposals for `
` another, and he never would. I must, however, do him the `
` justice to add that he assured me if ever he had regretted `
` the repugnance he felt to such a step it was on this `
` occasion, because he thought the projected union would be a `
` happy and suitable one. Besides, if he will do nothing `
` officially, he will answer any questions you propose to him. `
` And now," continued he, with one of his most charming `
` smiles, "having finished talking to the father-in-law, I `
` must address myself to the banker." `
` `
` "And what may you have to say to him?" said Danglars, `
` laughing in his turn. `
` `
` "That the day after to-morrow I shall have to draw upon you `
` for about four thousand francs; but the count, expecting my `
` bachelor's revenue could not suffice for the coming month's `
` outlay, has offered me a draft for twenty thousand francs. `
` It bears his signature, as you see, which is `
` all-sufficient." `
` `
` "Bring me a million such as that," said Danglars, "I shall `
` be well pleased," putting the draft in his pocket. "Fix your `
` own hour for to-morrow, and my cashier shall call on you `
` with a check for eighty thousand francs." `
` `
` "At ten o'clock then, if you please; I should like it early, `
` as I am going into the country to-morrow." `
` `
` "Very well, at ten o'clock; you are still at the Hotel des `
` Princes?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` The following morning, with the banker's usual punctuality, `
` the eighty thousand francs were placed in the young man's `
` hands as he was on the point of starting, after having left `
` two hundred francs for Caderousse. He went out chiefly to `
` avoid this dangerous enemy, and returned as late as possible `
` in the evening. But scarcely had be stepped out of his `
` carriage when the porter met him with a parcel in his hand. `
` "Sir," said he, "that man has been here." `
` `
` "What man?" said Andrea carelessly, apparently forgetting `
` him whom he but too well recollected. `
` `
` "Him to whom your excellency pays that little annuity." `
` `
` "Oh," said Andrea, "my father's old servant. Well, you gave `
` him the two hundred francs I had left for him?" `
` `
` "Yes, your excellency." Andrea had expressed a wish to be `
` thus addressed. "But," continued the porter, "he would not `
` take them." Andrea turned pale, but as it was dark his `
` pallor was not perceptible. "What? he would not take them?" `
` said he with slight emotion. `
` `
` "No, he wished to speak to your excellency; I told him you `
` were gone out, and after some dispute he believed me and `
` gave me this letter, which he had brought with him already `
` sealed." `
` `
` "Give it me," said Andrea, and he read by the light of his `
` carriage-lamp, -- "You know where I live; I expect you `
` tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." `
` `
` Andrea examined it carefully, to ascertain if the letter had `
` been opened, or if any indiscreet eyes had seen its `
` contents; but it was so carefully folded, that no one could `
` have read it, and the seal was perfect. "Very well," said `
` he. "Poor man, he is a worthy creature." He left the porter `
` to ponder on these words, not knowing which most to admire, `
` the master or the servant. "Take out the horses quickly, and `
` come up to me," said Andrea to his groom. In two seconds the `
` young man had reached his room and burnt Caderousse's `
` letter. The servant entered just as he had finished. "You `
` are about my height, Pierre," said he. `
` `
` "I have that honor, your excellency." `
` `
` "You had a new livery yesterday?" `
` `
` "Yes, sir." `
` `
` "I have an engagement with a pretty little girl for this `
` evening, and do not wish to be known; lend me your livery `
` till to-morrow. I may sleep, perhaps, at an inn." Pierre `
` obeyed. Five minutes after, Andrea left the hotel, `
` completely disguised, took a cabriolet, and ordered the `
` driver to take him to the Cheval Rouge, at Picpus. The next `
` morning he left that inn as he had left the Hotel des `
` Princes, without being noticed, walked down the Faubourg St. `
` Antoine, along the boulevard to Rue Menilmontant, and `
` stopping at the door of the third house on the left looked `
` for some one of whom to make inquiry in the porter's `
` absence. "For whom are you looking, my fine fellow?" asked `
` the fruiteress on the opposite side. `
` `
` "Monsieur Pailletin, if you please, my good woman," replied `
` Andrea. `
` `
` "A retired baker?" asked the fruiteress. `
` `
` "Exactly." `
` `
` "He lives at the end of the yard, on the left, on the third `
` story." Andrea went as she directed him, and on the third `
` floor he found a hare's paw, which, by the hasty ringing of `
` the bell, it was evident he pulled with considerable `
` ill-temper. A moment after Caderousse's face appeared at the `
` grating in the door. "Ah, you are punctual," said he, as he `
` drew back the door. `
` `
` "Confound you and your punctuality!" said Andrea, throwing `
` himself into a chair in a manner which implied that he would `
` rather have flung it at the head of his host. `
` `
` "Come, come, my little fellow, don't be angry. See, I have `
` thought about you -- look at the good breakfast we are going `
` to have; nothing but what you are fond of." Andrea, indeed, `
` inhaled the scent of something cooking which was not `
` unwelcome to him, hungry as he was; it was that mixture of `
` fat and garlic peculiar to provincial kitchens of an `
` inferior order, added to that of dried fish, and above all, `
` the pungent smell of musk and cloves. These odors escaped `
` from two deep dishes which were covered and placed on a `
` stove, and from a copper pan placed in an old iron pot. In `
` an adjoining room Andrea saw also a tolerably clean table `
` prepared for two, two bottles of wine sealed, the one with `
` green, the other with yellow, a supply of brandy in a `
` decanter, and a measure of fruit in a cabbage-leaf, cleverly `
` arranged on an earthenware plate. `
` `
` "What do you think of it, my little fellow?" said `
` Caderousse. "Ay, that smells good! You know I used to be a `
` famous cook; do you recollect how you used to lick your `
` fingers? You were among the first who tasted any of my `
` dishes, and I think you relished them tolerably." While `
` speaking, Caderousse went on peeling a fresh supply of `
` onions. `
` `
` "But," said Andrea, ill-temperedly, "by my faith, if it was `
` only to breakfast with you, that you disturbed me, I wish `
` the devil had taken you!" `
` `
` "My boy," said Caderousse sententiously, "one can talk while `
` eating. And then, you ungrateful being, you are not pleased `
` to see an old friend? I am weeping with joy." He was truly `
` crying, but it would have been difficult to say whether joy `
` or the onions produced the greatest effect on the lachrymal `
` glands of the old inn-keeper of the Pont-du-Gard. "Hold your `
` tongue, hypocrite," said Andrea; "you love me!" `
` `
` "Yes, I do, or may the devil take me. I know it is a `
` weakness," said Caderousse, "but it overpowers me." `
` `
`