Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.75-117
`
` "My lord will remember that the lodge is at a distance from `
` the house." `
` `
` "Well?" `
` `
` "The house might be stripped without his hearing the least `
` noise." `
` `
` "By whom?" `
` `
` "By thieves." `
` `
` "You are a fool, M. Baptistin. Thieves might strip the house `
` -- it would annoy me less than to be disobeyed." Baptistin `
` bowed. `
` `
` "You understand me?" said the count. "Bring your comrades `
` here, one and all; but let everything remain as usual, only `
` close the shutters of the ground floor." `
` `
` "And those of the second floor?" `
` `
` "You know they are never closed. Go!" `
` `
` The count signified his intention of dining alone, and that `
` no one but Ali should attend him. Having dined with his `
` usual tranquillity and moderation, the count, making a `
` signal to Ali to follow him, went out by the side-gate and `
` on reaching the Bois de Boulogne turned, apparently without `
` design towards Paris and at twilight; found himself opposite `
` his house in the Champs-Elysees. All was dark; one solitary, `
` feeble light was burning in the porter's lodge, about forty `
` paces distant from the house, as Baptistin had said. Monte `
` Cristo leaned against a tree, and with that scrutinizing `
` glance which was so rarely deceived, looked up and down the `
` avenue, examined the passers-by, and carefully looked down `
` the neighboring streets, to see that no one was concealed. `
` Ten minutes passed thus, and he was convinced that no one `
` was watching him. He hastened to the side-door with Ali, `
` entered hurriedly, and by the servants' staircase, of which `
` he had the key, gained his bedroom without opening or `
` disarranging a single curtain, without even the porter `
` having the slightest suspicion that the house, which he `
` supposed empty, contained its chief occupant. `
` `
` Arrived in his bedroom, the count motioned to Ali to stop; `
` then he passed into the dressing-room, which he examined. `
` Everything appeared as usual -- the precious secretary in `
` its place, and the key in the secretary. He double locked `
` it, took the key, returned to the bedroom door, removed the `
` double staple of the bolt, and went in. Meanwhile Ali had `
` procured the arms the count required -- namely, a short `
` carbine and a pair of double-barrelled pistols, with which `
` as sure an aim might be taken as with a single-barrelled `
` one. Thus armed, the count held the lives of five men in his `
` hands. It was about half-past nine. The count and Ali ate in `
` haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine; `
` then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, `
` which enabled him to see into the adjoining room. He had `
` within his reach his pistols and carbine, and Ali, standing `
` near him, held one of the small Arabian hatchets, whose form `
` has not varied since the Crusades. Through one of the `
` windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the `
` dressing-room, the count could see into the street. `
` `
` Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark; still Ali, `
` thanks to his wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless `
` to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness `
` the slightest movement of the trees. The little light in the `
` lodge had long been extinct. It might be expected that the `
` attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be made `
` from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a `
` window; in Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his `
` life, not his money. It would be his bedroom they would `
` attack, and they must reach it by the back staircase, or by `
` the window in the dressing-room. The clock of the Invalides `
` struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on its `
` moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes. `
` `
` As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a `
` slight noise in the dressing-room; this first sound, or `
` rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a `
` third; at the fourth, the count knew what to expect. A firm `
` and well-practised hand was engaged in cutting the four `
` sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt his `
` heart beat more rapidly. Inured as men may be to danger, `
` forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the `
` fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the `
` enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between `
` the project and the execution. However, Monte Cristo only `
` made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger `
` was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his `
` master. Monte Cristo was eager to ascertain the strength and `
` number of his enemies. `
` `
` The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the `
` opening by which the count could see into the dressing-room. `
` He fixed his eyes on that window -- he distinguished a `
` shadow in the darkness; then one of the panes became quite `
` opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, `
` then the square cracked without falling. Through the opening `
` an arm was passed to find the fastening, then a second; the `
` window turned on its hinges, and a man entered. He was `
` alone. `
` `
` "That's a daring rascal," whispered the count. `
` `
` At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder. He `
` turned; Ali pointed to the window of the room in which they `
` were, facing the street. "I see!" said he, "there are two of `
` them; one does the work while the other stands guard." He `
` made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the man in the `
` street, and turned to the one in the dressing-room. `
` `
` The glass-cutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his `
` arms stretched out before him. At last he appeared to have `
` made himself familiar with his surroundings. There were two `
` doors; he bolted them both. `
` `
` When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected `
` that he was coming in, and raised one of his pistols; but he `
` simply heard the sound of the bolts sliding in their copper `
` rings. It was only a precaution. The nocturnal visitor, `
` ignorant of the fact that the count had removed the staples, `
` might now think himself at home, and pursue his purpose with `
` full security. Alone and free to act as he wished, the man `
` then drew from his pocket something which the count could `
` not discern, placed it on a stand, then went straight to the `
` secretary, felt the lock, and contrary to his expectation `
` found that the key was missing. But the glass-cutter was a `
` prudent man who had provided for all emergencies. The count `
` soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as `
` the locksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which `
` thieves call nightingales, doubtless from the music of their `
` nightly song when they grind against the bolt. "Ah, ha," `
` whispered Monte Cristo with a smile of disappointment, "he `
` is only a thief." `
` `
` But the man in the dark could not find the right key. He `
` reached the instrument he had placed on the stand, touched a `
` spring, and immediately a pale light, just bright enough to `
` render objects distinct, was reflected on his hands and `
` countenance. "By heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, starting `
` back, "it is" -- `
` `
` Ali raised his hatchet. "Don't stir," whispered Monte `
` Cristo, "and put down your hatchet; we shall require no `
` arms." Then he added some words in a low tone, for the `
` exclamation which surprise had drawn from the count, faint `
` as it had been, had startled the man who remained in the `
` pose of the old knife-grinder. It was an order the count had `
` just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and `
` returned, bearing a black dress and a three-cornered hat. `
` Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly taken off his great-coat, `
` waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish by the `
` glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant `
` tunic of steel mail, of which the last in France, where `
` daggers are no longer dreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI., `
` who feared the dagger at his breast, and whose head was `
` cleft with a hatchet. The tunic soon disappeared under a `
` long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig; the `
` three-cornered hat over this effectually transformed the `
` count into an abbe. `
` `
` The man, hearing nothing more, stood erect, and while Monte `
` Cristo was completing his disguise had advanced straight to `
` the secretary, whose lock was beginning to crack under his `
` nightingale. `
` `
` "Try again," whispered the count, who depended on the secret `
` spring, which was unknown to the picklock, clever as he `
` might be -- "try again, you have a few minutes' work there." `
` And he advanced to the window. The man whom he had seen `
` seated on a fence had got down, and was still pacing the `
` street; but, strange as it appeared, he cared not for those `
` who might pass from the avenue of the Champs-Elysees or by `
` the Faubourg St. Honore; his attention was engrossed with `
` what was passing at the count's, and his only aim appeared `
` to be to discern every movement in the dressing-room. `
` `
` Monte Cristo suddenly struck his finger on his forehead and `
` a smile passed over his lips; then drawing near to Ali, he `
` whispered, -- `
` `
` "Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you `
` hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I `
` call you." Ali bowed in token of strict obedience. Monte `
` Cristo then drew a lighted taper from a closet, and when the `
` thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the `
` door, taking care that the light should shine directly on `
` his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard no `
` sound; but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly `
` illuminated. He turned. `
` `
` "Ah, good-evening, my dear M. Caderousse," said Monte `
` Cristo; "what are you doing here, at such an hour?" `
` `
` "The Abbe Busoni!" exclaimed Caderousse; and, not knowing `
` how this strange apparition could have entered when he had `
` bolted the doors, he let fall his bunch of keys, and `
`
` "My lord will remember that the lodge is at a distance from `
` the house." `
` `
` "Well?" `
` `
` "The house might be stripped without his hearing the least `
` noise." `
` `
` "By whom?" `
` `
` "By thieves." `
` `
` "You are a fool, M. Baptistin. Thieves might strip the house `
` -- it would annoy me less than to be disobeyed." Baptistin `
` bowed. `
` `
` "You understand me?" said the count. "Bring your comrades `
` here, one and all; but let everything remain as usual, only `
` close the shutters of the ground floor." `
` `
` "And those of the second floor?" `
` `
` "You know they are never closed. Go!" `
` `
` The count signified his intention of dining alone, and that `
` no one but Ali should attend him. Having dined with his `
` usual tranquillity and moderation, the count, making a `
` signal to Ali to follow him, went out by the side-gate and `
` on reaching the Bois de Boulogne turned, apparently without `
` design towards Paris and at twilight; found himself opposite `
` his house in the Champs-Elysees. All was dark; one solitary, `
` feeble light was burning in the porter's lodge, about forty `
` paces distant from the house, as Baptistin had said. Monte `
` Cristo leaned against a tree, and with that scrutinizing `
` glance which was so rarely deceived, looked up and down the `
` avenue, examined the passers-by, and carefully looked down `
` the neighboring streets, to see that no one was concealed. `
` Ten minutes passed thus, and he was convinced that no one `
` was watching him. He hastened to the side-door with Ali, `
` entered hurriedly, and by the servants' staircase, of which `
` he had the key, gained his bedroom without opening or `
` disarranging a single curtain, without even the porter `
` having the slightest suspicion that the house, which he `
` supposed empty, contained its chief occupant. `
` `
` Arrived in his bedroom, the count motioned to Ali to stop; `
` then he passed into the dressing-room, which he examined. `
` Everything appeared as usual -- the precious secretary in `
` its place, and the key in the secretary. He double locked `
` it, took the key, returned to the bedroom door, removed the `
` double staple of the bolt, and went in. Meanwhile Ali had `
` procured the arms the count required -- namely, a short `
` carbine and a pair of double-barrelled pistols, with which `
` as sure an aim might be taken as with a single-barrelled `
` one. Thus armed, the count held the lives of five men in his `
` hands. It was about half-past nine. The count and Ali ate in `
` haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine; `
` then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, `
` which enabled him to see into the adjoining room. He had `
` within his reach his pistols and carbine, and Ali, standing `
` near him, held one of the small Arabian hatchets, whose form `
` has not varied since the Crusades. Through one of the `
` windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the `
` dressing-room, the count could see into the street. `
` `
` Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark; still Ali, `
` thanks to his wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless `
` to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness `
` the slightest movement of the trees. The little light in the `
` lodge had long been extinct. It might be expected that the `
` attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be made `
` from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a `
` window; in Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his `
` life, not his money. It would be his bedroom they would `
` attack, and they must reach it by the back staircase, or by `
` the window in the dressing-room. The clock of the Invalides `
` struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on its `
` moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes. `
` `
` As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a `
` slight noise in the dressing-room; this first sound, or `
` rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a `
` third; at the fourth, the count knew what to expect. A firm `
` and well-practised hand was engaged in cutting the four `
` sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt his `
` heart beat more rapidly. Inured as men may be to danger, `
` forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the `
` fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the `
` enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between `
` the project and the execution. However, Monte Cristo only `
` made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger `
` was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his `
` master. Monte Cristo was eager to ascertain the strength and `
` number of his enemies. `
` `
` The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the `
` opening by which the count could see into the dressing-room. `
` He fixed his eyes on that window -- he distinguished a `
` shadow in the darkness; then one of the panes became quite `
` opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, `
` then the square cracked without falling. Through the opening `
` an arm was passed to find the fastening, then a second; the `
` window turned on its hinges, and a man entered. He was `
` alone. `
` `
` "That's a daring rascal," whispered the count. `
` `
` At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder. He `
` turned; Ali pointed to the window of the room in which they `
` were, facing the street. "I see!" said he, "there are two of `
` them; one does the work while the other stands guard." He `
` made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the man in the `
` street, and turned to the one in the dressing-room. `
` `
` The glass-cutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his `
` arms stretched out before him. At last he appeared to have `
` made himself familiar with his surroundings. There were two `
` doors; he bolted them both. `
` `
` When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected `
` that he was coming in, and raised one of his pistols; but he `
` simply heard the sound of the bolts sliding in their copper `
` rings. It was only a precaution. The nocturnal visitor, `
` ignorant of the fact that the count had removed the staples, `
` might now think himself at home, and pursue his purpose with `
` full security. Alone and free to act as he wished, the man `
` then drew from his pocket something which the count could `
` not discern, placed it on a stand, then went straight to the `
` secretary, felt the lock, and contrary to his expectation `
` found that the key was missing. But the glass-cutter was a `
` prudent man who had provided for all emergencies. The count `
` soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as `
` the locksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which `
` thieves call nightingales, doubtless from the music of their `
` nightly song when they grind against the bolt. "Ah, ha," `
` whispered Monte Cristo with a smile of disappointment, "he `
` is only a thief." `
` `
` But the man in the dark could not find the right key. He `
` reached the instrument he had placed on the stand, touched a `
` spring, and immediately a pale light, just bright enough to `
` render objects distinct, was reflected on his hands and `
` countenance. "By heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, starting `
` back, "it is" -- `
` `
` Ali raised his hatchet. "Don't stir," whispered Monte `
` Cristo, "and put down your hatchet; we shall require no `
` arms." Then he added some words in a low tone, for the `
` exclamation which surprise had drawn from the count, faint `
` as it had been, had startled the man who remained in the `
` pose of the old knife-grinder. It was an order the count had `
` just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and `
` returned, bearing a black dress and a three-cornered hat. `
` Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly taken off his great-coat, `
` waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish by the `
` glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant `
` tunic of steel mail, of which the last in France, where `
` daggers are no longer dreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI., `
` who feared the dagger at his breast, and whose head was `
` cleft with a hatchet. The tunic soon disappeared under a `
` long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig; the `
` three-cornered hat over this effectually transformed the `
` count into an abbe. `
` `
` The man, hearing nothing more, stood erect, and while Monte `
` Cristo was completing his disguise had advanced straight to `
` the secretary, whose lock was beginning to crack under his `
` nightingale. `
` `
` "Try again," whispered the count, who depended on the secret `
` spring, which was unknown to the picklock, clever as he `
` might be -- "try again, you have a few minutes' work there." `
` And he advanced to the window. The man whom he had seen `
` seated on a fence had got down, and was still pacing the `
` street; but, strange as it appeared, he cared not for those `
` who might pass from the avenue of the Champs-Elysees or by `
` the Faubourg St. Honore; his attention was engrossed with `
` what was passing at the count's, and his only aim appeared `
` to be to discern every movement in the dressing-room. `
` `
` Monte Cristo suddenly struck his finger on his forehead and `
` a smile passed over his lips; then drawing near to Ali, he `
` whispered, -- `
` `
` "Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you `
` hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I `
` call you." Ali bowed in token of strict obedience. Monte `
` Cristo then drew a lighted taper from a closet, and when the `
` thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the `
` door, taking care that the light should shine directly on `
` his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard no `
` sound; but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly `
` illuminated. He turned. `
` `
` "Ah, good-evening, my dear M. Caderousse," said Monte `
` Cristo; "what are you doing here, at such an hour?" `
` `
` "The Abbe Busoni!" exclaimed Caderousse; and, not knowing `
` how this strange apparition could have entered when he had `
` bolted the doors, he let fall his bunch of keys, and `
`