基督山伯爵 英文版 The Count of Monte Cristo
大仲马 Alexandre Dumas père
Chapter 17 Page 1
The Abbe's Chamber.
After having passed with tolerable ease through thesubterranean passage, which, however, did not admit of theirholding themselves erect, the two friends reached thefurther end of the corridor, into which the abbe's cellopened; from that point the passage became much narrower,and barely permitted one to creep through on hands andknees. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved, and it hadbeen by raising one of the stones in the most obscure cornerthat Faria had to been able to commence the laborious taskof which Dantes had witnessed the completion.
As he entered the chamber of his friend, Dantes cast aroundone eager and searching glance in quest of the expectedmarvels, but nothing more than common met his view.
"It is well," said the abbe; "we have some hours before us-- it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock."Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watchor clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify thehour.
"Look at this ray of light which enters by my window," saidthe abbe, "and then observe the lines traced on the wall.Well, by means of these lines, which are in accordance withthe double motion of the earth, and the ellipse it describesround the sun, I am enabled to ascertain the precise hourwith more minuteness than if I possessed a watch; for thatmight be broken or deranged in its movements, while the sunand earth never vary in their appointed paths."
This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes, who hadalways imagined, from seeing the sun rise from behind themountains and set in the Mediterranean, that it moved, andnot the earth. A double movement of the globe he inhabited,and of which he could feel nothing, appeared to himperfectly impossible. Each word that fell from hiscompanion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries ofscience, as worthy of digging out as the gold and diamondsin the mines of Guzerat and Golconda, which he could justrecollect having visited during a voyage made in hisearliest youth.
"Come," said he to the abbe, "I am anxious to see yourtreasures."
"What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe.
"Oh, your great work on the monarchy of Italy!"
Faria then drew forth from his hiding-place three or fourrolls of linen, laid one over the other, like folds ofpapyrus. These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about fourinches wide and eighteen long; they were all carefullynumbered and closely covered with writing, so legible thatDantes could easily read it, as well as make out the sense-- it being in Italian, a language he, as a Provencal,perfectly understood.
"There," said he, "there is the work complete. I wrote theword finis at the end of the sixty-eighth strip about a weekago. I have torn up two of my shirts, and as manyhandkerchiefs as I was master of, to complete the preciouspages. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italya printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed,my literary reputation is forever secured."
"I see," answered Dantes. "Now let me behold the curiouspens with which you have written your work."
"Look!" said Faria, showing to the young man a slender stickabout six inches long, and much resembling the size of thehandle of a fine painting-brush, to the end of which wastied, by a piece of thread, one of those cartilages of whichthe abbe had before spoken to Dantes; it was pointed, anddivided at the nib like an ordinary pen. Dantes examined itwith intense admiration, then looked around to see theinstrument with which it had been shaped so correctly intoform.
"Ah, yes," said Faria; "the penknife. That's my masterpiece.I made it, as well as this larger knife, out of an old ironcandlestick." The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor; asfor the other knife, it would serve a double purpose, andwith it one could cut and thrust.
Dantes examined the various articles shown to him with thesame attention that he had bestowed on the curiosities andstrange tools exhibited in the shops at Marseilles as theworks of the savages in the South Seas from whence they hadbeen brought by the different trading vessels.
"As for the ink," said Faria, "I told you how I managed toobtain that -- and I only just make it from time to time, asI require it."
"One thing still puzzles me," observed Dantes, "and that ishow you managed to do all this by daylight?"
"I worked at night also," replied Faria.
"Night! -- why, for heaven's sake, are your eyes like cats',that you can see to work in the dark?"
"Indeed they are not; but God his supplied man with theintelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations ofnatural conditions. I furnished myself with a light."
"You did? Pray tell me how."
"I separated the fat from the meat served to me, melted it,and so made oil -- here is my lamp." So saying, the abbeexhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used inpublic illuminations.
"But light?"
"Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen."
"And matches?"
"I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin, and askedfor a little sulphur, which was readily supplied." Danteslaid the different things he had been looking at on thetable, and stood with his head drooping on his breast, asthough overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength ofFaria's mind.
"You have not seen all yet," continued Faria, "for I did notthink it wise to trust all my treasures in the samehiding-place. Let us shut this one up." They put the stoneback in its place; the abbe sprinkled a little dust over itto conceal the traces of its having been removed, rubbed hisfoot well on it to make it assume the same appearance as theother, and then, going towards his bed, he removed it fromthe spot it stood in. Behind the head of the bed, andconcealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy allsuspicion, was a hollow space, and in this space a ladder ofcords between twenty-five and thirty feet in length. Dantesclosely and eagerly examined it; he found it firm, solid,and compact enough to bear any weight.
"Who supplied you with the materials for making thiswonderful work?"
"I tore up several of my shirts, and ripped out the seams inthe sheets of my bed, during my three years' imprisonment atFenestrelle; and when I was removed to the Chateau d'If, Imanaged to bring the ravellings with me, so that I have beenable to finish my work here."
"And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?"
"Oh, no, for when I had taken out the thread I required, Ihemmed the edges over again."
"With what?"
"With this needle," said the abbe, as, opening his raggedvestments, he showed Dantes a long, sharp fish-bone, with asmall perforated eye for the thread, a small portion ofwhich still remained in it. "I once thought," continuedFaria, "of removing these iron bars, and letting myself downfrom the window, which, as you see, is somewhat wider thanyours, although I should have enlarged it still morepreparatory to my flight; however, I discovered that Ishould merely have dropped into a sort of inner court, and Itherefore renounced the project altogether as too full ofrisk and danger. Nevertheless, I carefully preserved myladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities ofwhich I spoke just now, and which sudden chance frequentlybrings about." While affecting to be deeply engaged inexamining the ladder, the mind of Dantes was, in fact,busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent,ingenious, and clear-sighted as the abbe might probably beable to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes, wherehe himself could see nothing.
"What are you thinking of?" asked the abbe smilingly,imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor wasplunged to the excess of his awe and wonder.
"I was reflecting, in the first place," replied Dantes,"upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability youmust have employed to reach the high perfection to which youhave attained. What would you not have accomplished if youhad been free?"
"Possibly nothing at all; the overflow of my brain wouldprobably, in a state of freedom, have evaporated in athousand follies; misfortune is needed to bring to light thetreasures of the human intellect. Compression is needed toexplode gunpowder. Captivity has brought my mental facultiesto a focus; and you are well aware that from the collisionof clouds electricity is produced -- from electricity,lightning, from lightning, illumination."
"No," replied Dantes. "I know nothing. Some of your wordsare to me quite empty of meaning. You must be blessed indeedto possess the knowledge you have."
The abbe smiled. "Well," said he, "but you had anothersubject for your thoughts; did you not say so just now?"
"I did!"
"You have told me as yet but one of them -- let me hear theother."
"It was this, -- that while you had related to me all theparticulars of your past life, you were perfectlyunacquainted with mine."
"Your life, my young friend, has not been of sufficientlength to admit of your having passed through any veryimportant events."
"Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you arecharged?"
"I do, indeed; and this I swear by the two beings most dearto me upon earth, -- my father and Mercedes."
"Come," said the abbe, closing his hiding-place, and pushingthe bed back to its original situation, "let me hear yourstory."
Dantes obeyed, and commenced what he called his history, butwhich consisted only of the account of a voyage to India,and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived atthe recital of his last cruise, with the death of CaptainLeclere, and the receipt of a packet to be delivered byhimself to the grand marshal; his interview with thatpersonage, and his receiving, in place of the packetbrought, a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier -- hisarrival at Marseilles, and interview with his father -- hisaffection for Mercedes, and their nuptual feast -- hisarrest and subsequent examination, his temporary detentionat the Palais de Justice, and his final imprisonment in theChateau d'If. From this point everything was a blank toDantes -- he knew nothing more, not even the length of timehe had been imprisoned. His recital finished, the abbereflected long and earnestly.
"There is," said he, at the end of his meditations, "aclever maxim, which bears upon what I was saying to you somelittle while ago, and that is, that unless wicked ideas takeroot in a naturally depraved mind, human nature, in a rightand wholesome state, revolts at crime. Still, from anartificial civilization have originated wants, vices, andfalse tastes, which occasionally become so powerful as tostifle within us all good feelings, and ultimately to leadus into guilt and wickedness. From this view of things,then, comes the axiom that if you visit to discover theauthor of any bad action, seek first to discover the personto whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in anyway advantageous. Now, to apply it in your case, -- to whomcould your disappearance have been serviceable?"
"To no one, by heaven! I was a very insignificant person."
"Do not speak thus, for your reply evinces neither logic norphilosophy; everything is relative, my dear young friend,from the king who stands in the way of his successor, to theemployee who keeps his rival out of a place. Now, in theevent of the king's death, his successor inherits a crown,-- when the employee dies, the supernumerary steps into hisshoes, and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres.Well, these twelve thousand livres are his civil list, andare as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king.Every one, from the highest to the lowest degree, has hisplace on the social ladder, and is beset by stormy passionsand conflicting interests, as in Descartes' theory ofpressure and impulsion. But these forces increase as we gohigher, so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reasonrests upon the apex and not on the base. Now let us returnto your particular world. You say you were on the point ofbeing made captain of the Pharaon?"
"Yes."
"And about to become the husband of a young and lovelygirl?"
"Yes."
"Now, could any one have had any interest in preventing theaccomplishment of these two things? But let us first settlethe question as to its being the interest of any one tohinder you from being captain of the Pharaon. What say you?"
"I cannot believe such was the case. I was generally likedon board, and had the sailors possessed the right ofselecting a captain themselves, I feel convinced theirchoice would have fallen on me. There was only one personamong the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. Ihad quarelled with him some time previously, and had evenchallenged him to fight me; but he refused."
"Now we are getting on. And what was this man's name?"
To no one."alone."make.
"What rank did he hold on board?"
"He was supercargo."
"And had you been captain, should you have retained him inhis employment?"
"Not if the choice had remained with me, for I hadfrequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts."
"Good again! Now then, tell me, was any person presentduring your last conversation with Captain Leclere?"
"No; we were quite alone."
"Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?"
"It might, for the cabin door was open -- and -- stay; now Irecollect, -- Danglars himself passed by just as CaptainLeclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal."
"That's better," cried the abbe; "now we are on the rightscent. Did you take anybody with you when you put into theport of Elba?"
"Nobody."
"Yes; the grand marshal did."
"And what did you do with that letter?"
"Put it into my portfolio."
"You had your portfolio with you, then? Now, how could asailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enoughto contain an official letter?"
"You are right; it was left on board."
"Then it was not till your return to the ship that you putthe letter in the portfolio?"
"No."
"And what did you do with this same letter while returningfrom Porto-Ferrajo to the vessel?"
"I carried it in my hand."
supercargo."that letter?"What?"me.
"So that when you went on board the Pharaon, everybody couldsee that you held a letter in your hand?"
"Yes."
"Danglars, as well as the rest?"
"Danglars, as well as others."
"Now, listen to me, and try to recall every circumstanceattending your arrest. Do you recollect the words in whichthe information against you was formulated?"
"Oh yes, I read it over three times, and the words sankdeeply into my memory."
"Repeat it to me."
Dantes paused a moment, then said, "This is it, word forword: `The king's attorney is informed by a friend to thethrone and religion, that one Edmond Dantes, mate on boardthe Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after havingtouched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been intrusted byMurat with a packet for the usurper; again, by the usurper,with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. This proofof his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest, as theletter will be found either about his person, at hisfather's residence, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon.'"The abbe shrugged his shoulders. "The thing is clear asday," said he; "and you must have had a very confidingnature, as well as a good heart, not to have suspected theorigin of the whole affair."
"Do you really think so? Ah, that would indeed be infamous."
"How did Danglars usually write?"
"In a handsome, running hand."
"And how was the anonymous letter written?"
"Backhanded." Again the abbe smiled. "Disguised."
"It was very boldly written, if disguised."
"Stop a bit," said the abbe, taking up what he called hispen, and, after dipping it into the ink, he wrote on a pieceof prepared linen, with his left hand, the first two orthree words of the accusation. Dantes drew back, and gazedon the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror.
"How very astonishing!" cried he at length. "Why yourwriting exactly resembles that of the accusation."
"Simply because that accusation had been written with theleft hand; and I have noticed that" --
"What?"
"That while the writing of different persons done with theright hand varies, that performed with the left hand isinvariably uniform."
"You have evidently seen and observed everything."
"Let us proceed."
"Oh, yes, yes!"
"Now as regards the second question."
"I am listening."
subsequent examination, his.
"Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent yourmarriage with Mercedes?"
"Yes; a young man who loved her."
"And his name was" --
"Fernand."
"That is a Spanish name, I think?"
can see to work in the dark?"thearticles.
"He was a Catalan."
"You imagine him capable of writing the letter?"
"Oh, no; he would more likely have got rid of me by stickinga knife into me."
"That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character; anassassination they will unhesitatingly commit, but an act ofcowardice, never."
"Besides," said Dantes, "the various circumstances mentionedin the letter were wholly unknown to him."
"You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?"
"To no one."
"Not even to your mistress?"
"No, not even to my betrothed."
"Then it is Danglars."
"I feel quite sure of it now."
"Wait a little. Pray, was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?"
"No -- yes, he was. Now I recollect" --
"What?"
"To have seen them both sitting at table together under anarbor at Pere Pamphile's the evening before the day fixedfor my wedding. They were in earnest conversation. Danglarswas joking in a friendly way, but Fernand looked pale andagitated."
"Were they alone?"
"There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectlywell, and who had, in all probability made theiracquaintance; he was a tailor named Caderousse, but he wasvery drunk. Stay! -- stay! -- How strange that it should nothave occurred to me before! Now I remember quite well, thaton the table round which they were sitting were pens, ink,and paper. Oh, the heartless, treacherous scoundrels!"exclaimed Dantes, pressing his hand to his throbbing brows.
"Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering,besides the villany of your friends?" inquired the abbe witha laugh.
"Yes, yes," replied Dantes eagerly; "I would beg of you, whosee so completely to the depths of things, and to whom thegreatest mystery seems but an easy riddle, to explain to mehow it was that I underwent no second examination, was neverbrought to trial, and, above all, was condemned without everhaving had sentence passed on me?"
"That is altogether a different and more serious matter,"responded the abbe. "The ways of justice are frequently toodark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. All we havehitherto done in the matter has been child's play. If youwish me to enter upon the more difficult part of thebusiness, you must assist me by the most minute informationon every point."