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"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," replied `
`
Chateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse was `
`
dead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. I `
`
shot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with my `
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pistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left; `
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one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so `
`
short, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung a `
`
yataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, when `
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this gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the one `
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who held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the other `
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with his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving a `
`
man's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself. `
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When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann `
`
or Marochetti." `
`
`
`
"Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September, `
`
the anniversary of the day on which my father was `
`
miraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in my `
`
power, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" -- `
`
`
`
"Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen. `
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But that is not all -- after rescuing me from the sword, he `
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rescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me, `
`
like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then from `
`
hunger by sharing with me -- guess what?" `
`
`
`
"A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. `
`
`
`
"No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with a `
`
hearty appetite. It was very hard." `
`
`
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"The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing. `
`
`
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"No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray if `
`
he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" `
`
`
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"Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend I `
`
might, perhaps." `
`
`
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"I divined that you would become mine, count," replied `
`
Morrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism or `
`
not, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to bad `
`
fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on `
`
other days granted to us." `
`
`
`
"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued `
`
Chateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you `
`
some day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day let `
`
us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you `
`
breakfast, Albert?" `
`
`
`
"At half-past ten." `
`
`
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"Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch. `
`
`
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"Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf, `
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"for I also expect a preserver." `
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`
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"Of whom?" `
`
`
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"Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannot `
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be saved as well as any one else, and that there are only `
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Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic `
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one, and we shall have at table -- at least, I hope so -- `
`
two benefactors of humanity." `
`
`
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"What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyon `
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prize." `
`
`
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"Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to `
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deserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academy `
`
mostly escapes from the dilemma." `
`
`
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"And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You have `
`
already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I `
`
venture to put it a second time." `
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`
`
"Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited him `
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three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time `
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who knows where he may have gone?" `
`
`
`
"And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. `
`
`
`
"I think him capable of everything." `
`
`
`
"Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left." `
`
`
`
"I will profit by them to tell you something about my `
`
guest." `
`
`
`
"I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there any `
`
materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" `
`
`
`
"Yes, and for a most curious one." `
`
`
`
"Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this `
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morning, and I must make up for it." `
`
`
`
"I was at Rome during the last Carnival." `
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`
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"We know that," said Beauchamp. `
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`
`
"Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by `
`
bandits." `
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`
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"There are no bandits," cried Debray. `
`
`
`
"Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable `
`
ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me." `
`
`
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"Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cook `
`
is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend `
`
or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are `
`
going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are `
`
sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your `
`
history, fabulous as it promises to be." `
`
`
`
"And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a `
`
true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me `
`
off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs `
`
of Saint Sebastian." `
`
`
`
"I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escaped `
`
catching a fever there." `
`
`
`
"And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caught `
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one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum `
`
of 4,000 Roman crowns -- about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, `
`
I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of `
`
my credit. I wrote to Franz -- and were he here he would `
`
confirm every word -- I wrote then to Franz that if he did `
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not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten `
`
minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints `
`
and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of `
`
being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the `
`
chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his `
`
word." `
`
`
`
"But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," said `
`
Chateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or `
`
Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring `
`
them." `
`
`
`
"No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going `
`
to present to you." `
`
`
`
"Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus `
`
freeing Andromeda." `
`
`
`
"No, he is a man about my own size." `
`
`
`
"Armed to the teeth?" `
`
`
`
"He had not even a knitting-needle." `
`
`
`
"But he paid your ransom?" `
`
`
`
"He said two words to the chief and I was free." `
`
`
`
"And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" `
`
said Beauchamp. `
`
`
`
"Just so." `
`
`
`
"Why, he is a second Ariosto." `
`
`
`
"No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo." `
`
`
`
"There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. `
`
`
`
"I do not think so," added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of a `
`
man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. `
`
`
`
"Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" `
`
`
`
"He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his `
`
ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead `
`
Sea." `
`
`
`
"I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian. `
`
"Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken `
`
of by the old sailors my father employed -- a grain of sand `
`
in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the `
`
infinite." `
`
`
`
"Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is the `
`
lord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he has `
`
purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." `
`
`
`
"He is rich, then?" `
`
`
`
"I believe so." `
`
`
`
"But that ought to be visible." `
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`
`
"That is what deceives you, Debray." `
`
`
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"I do not understand you." `
`
`
`
"Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?" `
`
`
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