Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.75-117
two swords appear like flashes of lightning; as for the men, `
` they were scarcely perceptible, the darkness was so great. `
` `
` "`General d'Epinay passed for one of the best swordsmen in `
` the army, but he was pressed so closely in the onset that he `
` missed his aim and fell. The witnesses thought he was dead, `
` but his adversary, who knew he had not struck him, offered `
` him the assistance of his hand to rise. The circumstance `
` irritated instead of calming the general, and he rushed on `
` his adversary. But his opponent did not allow his guard to `
` be broken. He received him on his sword and three times the `
` general drew back on finding himself too closely engaged, `
` and then returned to the charge. At the third he fell again. `
` They thought he slipped, as at first, and the witnesses, `
` seeing he did not move, approached and endeavored to raise `
` him, but the one who passed his arm around the body found it `
` was moistened with blood. The general, who had almost `
` fainted, revived. "Ah," said he, "they have sent some `
` fencing-master to fight with me." The president, without `
` answering, approached the witness who held the lantern, and `
` raising his sleeve, showed him two wounds he had received in `
` his arm; then opening his coat, and unbuttoning his `
` waistcoat, displayed his side, pierced with a third wound. `
` Still he had not even uttered a sigh. General d'Epinay died `
` five minutes after.'" `
` `
` Franz read these last words in a voice so choked that they `
` were hardly audible, and then stopped, passing his hand over `
` his eyes as if to dispel a cloud; but after a moment's `
` silence, he continued: -- `
` `
` "`The president went up the steps, after pushing his sword `
` into his cane; a track of blood on the snow marked his `
` course. He had scarcely arrived at the top when he heard a `
` heavy splash in the water -- it was the general's body, `
` which the witnesses had just thrown into the river after `
` ascertaining that he was dead. The general fell, then, in a `
` loyal duel, and not in ambush as it might have been `
` reported. In proof of this we have signed this paper to `
` establish the truth of the facts, lest the moment should `
` arrive when either of the actors in this terrible scene `
` should be accused of premeditated murder or of infringement `
` of the laws of honor. `
` `
` "`Signed, Beaurepaire, Deschamps, and Lecharpal.'" `
` `
` When Franz had finished reading this account, so dreadful `
` for a son; when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away `
` a tear; when Villefort, trembling, and crouched in a corner, `
` had endeavored to lessen the storm by supplicating glances `
` at the implacable old man, -- "Sir," said d'Epinay to `
` Noirtier, "since you are well acquainted with all these `
` details, which are attested by honorable signatures, -- `
` since you appear to take some interest in me, although you `
` have only manifested it hitherto by causing me sorrow, `
` refuse me not one final satisfaction -- tell me the name of `
` the president of the club, that I may at least know who `
` killed my father." Villefort mechanically felt for the `
` handle of the door; Valentine, who understood sooner than `
` anyone her grandfather's answer, and who had often seen two `
` scars upon his right arm, drew back a few steps. `
` "Mademoiselle," said Franz, turning towards Valentine, `
` "unite your efforts with mine to find out the name of the `
` man who made me an orphan at two years of age." Valentine `
` remained dumb and motionless. `
` `
` "Hold, sir," said Villefort, "do not prolong this dreadful `
` scene. The names have been purposely concealed; my father `
` himself does not know who this president was, and if he `
` knows, he cannot tell you; proper names are not in the `
` dictionary." `
` `
` "Oh, misery," cried Franz: "the only hope which sustained me `
` and enabled me to read to the end was that of knowing, at `
` least, the name of him who killed my father! Sir, sir," `
` cried he, turning to Noirtier, "do what you can -- make me `
` understand in some way!" `
` `
` "Yes," replied Noirtier. `
` `
` "Oh, mademoiselle, -- mademoiselle!" cried Franz, "your `
` grandfather says he can indicate the person. Help me, -- `
` lend me your assistance!" Noirtier looked at the dictionary. `
` Franz took it with a nervous trembling, and repeated the `
` letters of the alphabet successively, until he came to M. At `
` that letter the old man signified "Yes." `
` `
` "M," repeated Franz. The young man's finger, glided over the `
` words, but at each one Noirtier answered by a negative sign. `
` Valentine hid her head between her hands. At length, Franz `
` arrived at the word MYSELF. `
` `
` "Yes!" `
` `
` "You?" cried Franz, whose hair stood on end; "you, M. `
` Noirtier -- you killed my father?" `
` `
` "Yes!" replied Noirtier, fixing a majestic look on the young `
` man. Franz fell powerless on a chair; Villefort opened the `
` door and escaped, for the idea had entered his mind to `
` stifle the little remaining life in the heart of this `
` terrible old man. `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 76 `
` Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger. `
` `
` Meanwhile M. Cavalcanti the elder had returned to his `
` service, not in the army of his majesty the Emperor of `
` Austria, but at the gaming-table of the baths of Lucca, of `
` which he was one of the most assiduous courtiers. He had `
` spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey `
` as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he `
` had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at `
` his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he `
` had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis `
` Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari. He was now `
` fairly launched in that Parisian society which gives such `
` ready access to foreigners, and treats them, not as they `
` really are, but as they wish to be considered. Besides, what `
` is required of a young man in Paris? To speak its language `
` tolerably, to make a good appearance, to be a good gamester, `
` and to pay in cash. They are certainly less particular with `
` a foreigner than with a Frenchman. Andrea had, then, in a `
` fortnight, attained a very fair position. He was called `
` count, he was said to possess 50,000 livres per annum; and `
` his father's immense riches, buried in the quarries of `
` Saravezza, were a constant theme. A learned man, before whom `
` the last circumstance was mentioned as a fact, declared he `
` had seen the quarries in question, which gave great weight `
` to assertions hitherto somewhat doubtful, but which now `
` assumed the garb of reality. `
` `
` Such was the state of society in Paris at the period we `
` bring before our readers, when Monte Cristo went one evening `
` to pay M. Danglars a visit. M. Danglars was out, but the `
` count was asked to go and see the baroness, and he accepted `
` the invitation. It was never without a nervous shudder, `
` since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed `
` it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo's name `
` announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became `
` most intense; if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble `
` countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite `
` attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every `
` impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness `
` that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should `
` entertain evil designs against her; besides, the most `
` corrupt minds only suspect evil when it would answer some `
` interested end -- useless injury is repugnant to every mind. `
` When Monte Cristo entered the boudoir, -- to which we have `
` already once introduced our readers, and where the baroness `
` was examining some drawings, which her daughter passed to `
` her after having looked at them with M. Cavalcanti, -- his `
` presence soon produced its usual effect, and it was with `
` smiles that the baroness received the count, although she `
` had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his `
` name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance. `
` `
` The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugenie sat `
` near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed `
` in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes `
` and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and `
` tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so `
` displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte `
` Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist `
` putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied `
` by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs `
` launched in the same direction. Mademoiselle Danglars was `
` still the same -- cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of `
` these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her; they might `
` have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some `
` philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of `
` Sappho. Eugenie bowed coldly to the count, and availed `
` herself of the first moment when the conversation became `
` earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two `
` cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with `
` occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that `
` Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that `
` of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise `
` d'Armilly, her singing teacher. `
` `
` It was then, especially while conversing with Madame `
` Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the `
` conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's `
` solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door `
` he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The `
` banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed `
` towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for `
` his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their `
` wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend, `
` until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life. `
` `
` "Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?" `
` said Danglars to Andrea. "Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea `
` with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones. `
` Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened `
` it. `
` `
` The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at `
` the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a `
`
` they were scarcely perceptible, the darkness was so great. `
` `
` "`General d'Epinay passed for one of the best swordsmen in `
` the army, but he was pressed so closely in the onset that he `
` missed his aim and fell. The witnesses thought he was dead, `
` but his adversary, who knew he had not struck him, offered `
` him the assistance of his hand to rise. The circumstance `
` irritated instead of calming the general, and he rushed on `
` his adversary. But his opponent did not allow his guard to `
` be broken. He received him on his sword and three times the `
` general drew back on finding himself too closely engaged, `
` and then returned to the charge. At the third he fell again. `
` They thought he slipped, as at first, and the witnesses, `
` seeing he did not move, approached and endeavored to raise `
` him, but the one who passed his arm around the body found it `
` was moistened with blood. The general, who had almost `
` fainted, revived. "Ah," said he, "they have sent some `
` fencing-master to fight with me." The president, without `
` answering, approached the witness who held the lantern, and `
` raising his sleeve, showed him two wounds he had received in `
` his arm; then opening his coat, and unbuttoning his `
` waistcoat, displayed his side, pierced with a third wound. `
` Still he had not even uttered a sigh. General d'Epinay died `
` five minutes after.'" `
` `
` Franz read these last words in a voice so choked that they `
` were hardly audible, and then stopped, passing his hand over `
` his eyes as if to dispel a cloud; but after a moment's `
` silence, he continued: -- `
` `
` "`The president went up the steps, after pushing his sword `
` into his cane; a track of blood on the snow marked his `
` course. He had scarcely arrived at the top when he heard a `
` heavy splash in the water -- it was the general's body, `
` which the witnesses had just thrown into the river after `
` ascertaining that he was dead. The general fell, then, in a `
` loyal duel, and not in ambush as it might have been `
` reported. In proof of this we have signed this paper to `
` establish the truth of the facts, lest the moment should `
` arrive when either of the actors in this terrible scene `
` should be accused of premeditated murder or of infringement `
` of the laws of honor. `
` `
` "`Signed, Beaurepaire, Deschamps, and Lecharpal.'" `
` `
` When Franz had finished reading this account, so dreadful `
` for a son; when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away `
` a tear; when Villefort, trembling, and crouched in a corner, `
` had endeavored to lessen the storm by supplicating glances `
` at the implacable old man, -- "Sir," said d'Epinay to `
` Noirtier, "since you are well acquainted with all these `
` details, which are attested by honorable signatures, -- `
` since you appear to take some interest in me, although you `
` have only manifested it hitherto by causing me sorrow, `
` refuse me not one final satisfaction -- tell me the name of `
` the president of the club, that I may at least know who `
` killed my father." Villefort mechanically felt for the `
` handle of the door; Valentine, who understood sooner than `
` anyone her grandfather's answer, and who had often seen two `
` scars upon his right arm, drew back a few steps. `
` "Mademoiselle," said Franz, turning towards Valentine, `
` "unite your efforts with mine to find out the name of the `
` man who made me an orphan at two years of age." Valentine `
` remained dumb and motionless. `
` `
` "Hold, sir," said Villefort, "do not prolong this dreadful `
` scene. The names have been purposely concealed; my father `
` himself does not know who this president was, and if he `
` knows, he cannot tell you; proper names are not in the `
` dictionary." `
` `
` "Oh, misery," cried Franz: "the only hope which sustained me `
` and enabled me to read to the end was that of knowing, at `
` least, the name of him who killed my father! Sir, sir," `
` cried he, turning to Noirtier, "do what you can -- make me `
` understand in some way!" `
` `
` "Yes," replied Noirtier. `
` `
` "Oh, mademoiselle, -- mademoiselle!" cried Franz, "your `
` grandfather says he can indicate the person. Help me, -- `
` lend me your assistance!" Noirtier looked at the dictionary. `
` Franz took it with a nervous trembling, and repeated the `
` letters of the alphabet successively, until he came to M. At `
` that letter the old man signified "Yes." `
` `
` "M," repeated Franz. The young man's finger, glided over the `
` words, but at each one Noirtier answered by a negative sign. `
` Valentine hid her head between her hands. At length, Franz `
` arrived at the word MYSELF. `
` `
` "Yes!" `
` `
` "You?" cried Franz, whose hair stood on end; "you, M. `
` Noirtier -- you killed my father?" `
` `
` "Yes!" replied Noirtier, fixing a majestic look on the young `
` man. Franz fell powerless on a chair; Villefort opened the `
` door and escaped, for the idea had entered his mind to `
` stifle the little remaining life in the heart of this `
` terrible old man. `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 76 `
` Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger. `
` `
` Meanwhile M. Cavalcanti the elder had returned to his `
` service, not in the army of his majesty the Emperor of `
` Austria, but at the gaming-table of the baths of Lucca, of `
` which he was one of the most assiduous courtiers. He had `
` spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey `
` as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he `
` had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at `
` his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he `
` had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis `
` Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari. He was now `
` fairly launched in that Parisian society which gives such `
` ready access to foreigners, and treats them, not as they `
` really are, but as they wish to be considered. Besides, what `
` is required of a young man in Paris? To speak its language `
` tolerably, to make a good appearance, to be a good gamester, `
` and to pay in cash. They are certainly less particular with `
` a foreigner than with a Frenchman. Andrea had, then, in a `
` fortnight, attained a very fair position. He was called `
` count, he was said to possess 50,000 livres per annum; and `
` his father's immense riches, buried in the quarries of `
` Saravezza, were a constant theme. A learned man, before whom `
` the last circumstance was mentioned as a fact, declared he `
` had seen the quarries in question, which gave great weight `
` to assertions hitherto somewhat doubtful, but which now `
` assumed the garb of reality. `
` `
` Such was the state of society in Paris at the period we `
` bring before our readers, when Monte Cristo went one evening `
` to pay M. Danglars a visit. M. Danglars was out, but the `
` count was asked to go and see the baroness, and he accepted `
` the invitation. It was never without a nervous shudder, `
` since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed `
` it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo's name `
` announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became `
` most intense; if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble `
` countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite `
` attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every `
` impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness `
` that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should `
` entertain evil designs against her; besides, the most `
` corrupt minds only suspect evil when it would answer some `
` interested end -- useless injury is repugnant to every mind. `
` When Monte Cristo entered the boudoir, -- to which we have `
` already once introduced our readers, and where the baroness `
` was examining some drawings, which her daughter passed to `
` her after having looked at them with M. Cavalcanti, -- his `
` presence soon produced its usual effect, and it was with `
` smiles that the baroness received the count, although she `
` had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his `
` name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance. `
` `
` The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugenie sat `
` near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed `
` in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes `
` and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and `
` tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so `
` displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte `
` Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist `
` putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied `
` by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs `
` launched in the same direction. Mademoiselle Danglars was `
` still the same -- cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of `
` these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her; they might `
` have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some `
` philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of `
` Sappho. Eugenie bowed coldly to the count, and availed `
` herself of the first moment when the conversation became `
` earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two `
` cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with `
` occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that `
` Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that `
` of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise `
` d'Armilly, her singing teacher. `
` `
` It was then, especially while conversing with Madame `
` Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the `
` conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's `
` solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door `
` he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The `
` banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed `
` towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for `
` his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their `
` wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend, `
` until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life. `
` `
` "Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?" `
` said Danglars to Andrea. "Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea `
` with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones. `
` Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened `
` it. `
` `
` The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at `
` the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a `
`