Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.1-10
"Well, Decapitator, Guardian of the State, Royalist, Brutus, `
` what is the matter?" said one. "Speak out." `
` `
` "Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked `
` another. `
` `
` "Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. `
` `
` "Marquise," said Villefort, approaching his future `
` mother-in-law, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. `
` Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private `
` conversation?" `
` `
` "Ah, it is really a serious matter, then?" asked the `
` marquis, remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. `
` `
` "So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days; `
` so," added he, turning to Renee, "judge for yourself if it `
` be not important." `
` `
` "You are going to leave us?" cried Renee, unable to hide her `
` emotion at this unexpected announcement. `
` `
` "Alas," returned Villefort, "I must!" `
` `
` "Where, then, are you going?" asked the marquise. `
` `
` "That, madame, is an official secret; but if you have any `
` commissions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there `
` to-night, and will with pleasure undertake them." The guests `
` looked at each other. `
` `
` "You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. `
` `
` "Yes, let us go to the library, please." The marquis took `
` his arm, and they left the salon. `
` `
` "Well," asked he, as soon as they were by themselves, "tell `
` me what it is?" `
` `
` "An affair of the greatest importance, that demands my `
` immediate presence in Paris. Now, excuse the indiscretion, `
` marquis, but have you any landed property?" `
` `
` "All my fortune is in the funds; seven or eight hundred `
` thousand francs." `
` `
` "Then sell out -- sell out, marquis, or you will lose it `
` all." `
` `
` "But how can I sell out here?" `
` `
` "You have a broker, have you not?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "Then give me a letter to him, and tell him to sell out `
` without an instant's delay, perhaps even now I shall arrive `
` too late." `
` `
` "The deuce you say!" replied the marquis, "let us lose no `
` time, then!" `
` `
` And, sitting down, he wrote a letter to his broker, ordering `
` him to sell out at the market price. `
` `
` "Now, then," said Villefort, placing the letter in his `
` pocketbook, "I must have another!" `
` `
` "To whom?" `
` `
` "To the king." `
` `
` "To the king?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "I dare not write to his majesty." `
` `
` "I do not ask you to write to his majesty, but ask M. de `
` Salvieux to do so. I want a letter that will enable me to `
` reach the king's presence without all the formalities of `
` demanding an audience; that would occasion a loss of `
` precious time." `
` `
` "But address yourself to the keeper of the seals; he has the `
` right of entry at the Tuileries, and can procure you `
` audience at any hour of the day or night." `
` `
` "Doubtless; but there is no occasion to divide the honors of `
` my discovery with him. The keeper would leave me in the `
` background, and take all the glory to himself. I tell you, `
` marquis, my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries `
` the first, for the king will not forget the service I do `
` him." `
` `
` "In that case go and get ready. I will call Salvieux and `
` make him write the letter." `
` `
` "Be as quick as possible, I must be on the road in a quarter `
` of an hour." `
` `
` "Tell your coachman to stop at the door." `
` `
` "You will present my excuses to the marquise and `
` Mademoiselle Renee, whom I leave on such a day with great `
` regret." `
` `
` "You will find them both here, and can make your farewells `
` in person." `
` `
` "A thousand thanks -- and now for the letter." `
` `
` The marquis rang, a servant entered. `
` `
` "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him." `
` `
` "Now, then, go," said the marquis. `
` `
` "I shall be gone only a few moments." `
` `
` Villefort hastily quitted the apartment, but reflecting that `
` the sight of the deputy procureur running through the `
` streets would be enough to throw the whole city into `
` confusion, he resumed his ordinary pace. At his door he `
` perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for `
` him. It was Mercedes, who, hearing no news of her lover, had `
` come unobserved to inquire after him. `
` `
` As Villefort drew near, she advanced and stood before him. `
` Dantes had spoken of Mercedes, and Villefort instantly `
` recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, `
` and when she inquired what had become of her lover, it `
` seemed to him that she was the judge, and he the accused. `
` `
` "The young man you speak of," said Villefort abruptly, "is a `
` great criminal. and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle." `
` Mercedes burst into tears, and, as Villefort strove to pass `
` her, again addressed him. `
` `
` "But, at least, tell me where he is, that I may know whether `
` he is alive or dead," said she. `
` `
` "I do not know; he is no longer in my hands," replied `
` Villefort. `
` `
` And desirous of putting an end to the interview, he pushed `
` by her, and closed the door, as if to exclude the pain he `
` felt. But remorse is not thus banished; like Virgil's `
` wounded hero, he carried the arrow in his wound, and, `
` arrived at the salon, Villefort uttered a sigh that was `
` almost a sob, and sank into a chair. `
` `
` Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his `
` heart. The man he sacrificed to his ambition, that innocent `
` victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults, `
` appeared to him pale and threatening, leading his affianced `
` bride by the hand, and bringing with him remorse, not such `
` as the ancients figured, furious and terrible, but that slow `
` and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to `
` hour up to the very moment of death. Then he had a moment's `
` hesitation. He had frequently called for capital punishment `
` on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence they `
` had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse `
` had never clouded Villefort's brow, because they were `
` guilty; at least, he believed so; but here was an innocent `
` man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was `
` not the judge, but the executioner. `
` `
` As he thus reflected, he felt the sensation we have `
` described, and which had hitherto been unknown to him, arise `
` in his bosom, and fill him with vague apprehensions. It is `
` thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the `
` approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed, but `
` Villefort's was one of those that never close, or if they `
` do, only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. If at `
` this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears `
` pleading for mercy, or the fair Mercedes had entered and `
` said, "In the name of God, I conjure you to restore me my `
` affianced husband," his cold and trembling hands would have `
` signed his release; but no voice broke the stillness of the `
` chamber, and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet, `
` who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in `
` readiness. `
` `
` Villefort rose, or rather sprang, from his chair, hastily `
` opened one of the drawers of his desk, emptied all the gold `
` it contained into his pocket, stood motionless an instant, `
` his hand pressed to his head, muttered a few inarticulate `
` sounds, and then, perceiving that his servant had placed his `
` cloak on his shoulders, he sprang into the carriage, `
` ordering the postilions to drive to M. de Saint-Meran's. The `
` hapless Dantes was doomed. `
` `
` As the marquis had promised, Villefort found the marquise `
` and Renee in waiting. He started when he saw Renee, for he `
` fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. Alas, her `
` emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of `
` Villefort's departure. `
` `
` She loved Villefort, and he left her at the moment he was `
`
` what is the matter?" said one. "Speak out." `
` `
` "Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked `
` another. `
` `
` "Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. `
` `
` "Marquise," said Villefort, approaching his future `
` mother-in-law, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. `
` Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private `
` conversation?" `
` `
` "Ah, it is really a serious matter, then?" asked the `
` marquis, remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. `
` `
` "So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days; `
` so," added he, turning to Renee, "judge for yourself if it `
` be not important." `
` `
` "You are going to leave us?" cried Renee, unable to hide her `
` emotion at this unexpected announcement. `
` `
` "Alas," returned Villefort, "I must!" `
` `
` "Where, then, are you going?" asked the marquise. `
` `
` "That, madame, is an official secret; but if you have any `
` commissions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there `
` to-night, and will with pleasure undertake them." The guests `
` looked at each other. `
` `
` "You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. `
` `
` "Yes, let us go to the library, please." The marquis took `
` his arm, and they left the salon. `
` `
` "Well," asked he, as soon as they were by themselves, "tell `
` me what it is?" `
` `
` "An affair of the greatest importance, that demands my `
` immediate presence in Paris. Now, excuse the indiscretion, `
` marquis, but have you any landed property?" `
` `
` "All my fortune is in the funds; seven or eight hundred `
` thousand francs." `
` `
` "Then sell out -- sell out, marquis, or you will lose it `
` all." `
` `
` "But how can I sell out here?" `
` `
` "You have a broker, have you not?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "Then give me a letter to him, and tell him to sell out `
` without an instant's delay, perhaps even now I shall arrive `
` too late." `
` `
` "The deuce you say!" replied the marquis, "let us lose no `
` time, then!" `
` `
` And, sitting down, he wrote a letter to his broker, ordering `
` him to sell out at the market price. `
` `
` "Now, then," said Villefort, placing the letter in his `
` pocketbook, "I must have another!" `
` `
` "To whom?" `
` `
` "To the king." `
` `
` "To the king?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "I dare not write to his majesty." `
` `
` "I do not ask you to write to his majesty, but ask M. de `
` Salvieux to do so. I want a letter that will enable me to `
` reach the king's presence without all the formalities of `
` demanding an audience; that would occasion a loss of `
` precious time." `
` `
` "But address yourself to the keeper of the seals; he has the `
` right of entry at the Tuileries, and can procure you `
` audience at any hour of the day or night." `
` `
` "Doubtless; but there is no occasion to divide the honors of `
` my discovery with him. The keeper would leave me in the `
` background, and take all the glory to himself. I tell you, `
` marquis, my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries `
` the first, for the king will not forget the service I do `
` him." `
` `
` "In that case go and get ready. I will call Salvieux and `
` make him write the letter." `
` `
` "Be as quick as possible, I must be on the road in a quarter `
` of an hour." `
` `
` "Tell your coachman to stop at the door." `
` `
` "You will present my excuses to the marquise and `
` Mademoiselle Renee, whom I leave on such a day with great `
` regret." `
` `
` "You will find them both here, and can make your farewells `
` in person." `
` `
` "A thousand thanks -- and now for the letter." `
` `
` The marquis rang, a servant entered. `
` `
` "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him." `
` `
` "Now, then, go," said the marquis. `
` `
` "I shall be gone only a few moments." `
` `
` Villefort hastily quitted the apartment, but reflecting that `
` the sight of the deputy procureur running through the `
` streets would be enough to throw the whole city into `
` confusion, he resumed his ordinary pace. At his door he `
` perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for `
` him. It was Mercedes, who, hearing no news of her lover, had `
` come unobserved to inquire after him. `
` `
` As Villefort drew near, she advanced and stood before him. `
` Dantes had spoken of Mercedes, and Villefort instantly `
` recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, `
` and when she inquired what had become of her lover, it `
` seemed to him that she was the judge, and he the accused. `
` `
` "The young man you speak of," said Villefort abruptly, "is a `
` great criminal. and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle." `
` Mercedes burst into tears, and, as Villefort strove to pass `
` her, again addressed him. `
` `
` "But, at least, tell me where he is, that I may know whether `
` he is alive or dead," said she. `
` `
` "I do not know; he is no longer in my hands," replied `
` Villefort. `
` `
` And desirous of putting an end to the interview, he pushed `
` by her, and closed the door, as if to exclude the pain he `
` felt. But remorse is not thus banished; like Virgil's `
` wounded hero, he carried the arrow in his wound, and, `
` arrived at the salon, Villefort uttered a sigh that was `
` almost a sob, and sank into a chair. `
` `
` Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his `
` heart. The man he sacrificed to his ambition, that innocent `
` victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults, `
` appeared to him pale and threatening, leading his affianced `
` bride by the hand, and bringing with him remorse, not such `
` as the ancients figured, furious and terrible, but that slow `
` and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to `
` hour up to the very moment of death. Then he had a moment's `
` hesitation. He had frequently called for capital punishment `
` on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence they `
` had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse `
` had never clouded Villefort's brow, because they were `
` guilty; at least, he believed so; but here was an innocent `
` man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was `
` not the judge, but the executioner. `
` `
` As he thus reflected, he felt the sensation we have `
` described, and which had hitherto been unknown to him, arise `
` in his bosom, and fill him with vague apprehensions. It is `
` thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the `
` approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed, but `
` Villefort's was one of those that never close, or if they `
` do, only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. If at `
` this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears `
` pleading for mercy, or the fair Mercedes had entered and `
` said, "In the name of God, I conjure you to restore me my `
` affianced husband," his cold and trembling hands would have `
` signed his release; but no voice broke the stillness of the `
` chamber, and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet, `
` who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in `
` readiness. `
` `
` Villefort rose, or rather sprang, from his chair, hastily `
` opened one of the drawers of his desk, emptied all the gold `
` it contained into his pocket, stood motionless an instant, `
` his hand pressed to his head, muttered a few inarticulate `
` sounds, and then, perceiving that his servant had placed his `
` cloak on his shoulders, he sprang into the carriage, `
` ordering the postilions to drive to M. de Saint-Meran's. The `
` hapless Dantes was doomed. `
` `
` As the marquis had promised, Villefort found the marquise `
` and Renee in waiting. He started when he saw Renee, for he `
` fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. Alas, her `
` emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of `
` Villefort's departure. `
` `
` She loved Villefort, and he left her at the moment he was `
`