基督山伯爵 英文版 The Count of Monte Cristo
大仲马 Alexandre Dumas père
Chapter 26 Page 2
"Mercedes," said Caderousse eagerly.
"True," said the abbe, with a stifled sigh, "Mercedes itwas."
"Go on," urged Caderousse.
"Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbe.
Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; andafter pouring some into a glass, and slowly swallowing itscontents, the abbe, resuming his usual placidity of manner,said, as he placed his empty glass on the table, -- "Wheredid we leave off?"
"The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes."
"To be sure. `You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantes, --for you understand, I repeat his words just as he utteredthem. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly."
"`You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money intofive equal parts, and give an equal portion to these goodfriends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'"
"But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you onlymentioned four persons."
"Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer inEdmond's bequest, was his own father."
"Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almostsuffocated by the contending passions which assailed him,"the poor old man did die."
"I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbe, makinga strong effort to appear indifferent; "but from the lengthof time that has elapsed since the death of the elderDantes, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end.Can you enlighten me on that point?"
"I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse."Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor oldman. Ah, yes, about a year after the disappearance of hisson the poor old man died."
"Of what did he die?"
"Why, the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis, Ibelieve; his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, whosaw him in his dying moments, I say he died of" --Caderousse paused.
"Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly.
Edmond esteemed most?
"Why, of downright starvation."
"Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe, springing from his seat."Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such adeath as that. The very dogs that wander houseless andhomeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast thema mouthful of bread; and that a man, a Christian, should beallowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men whocall themselves Christians, is too horrible for belief. Oh,it is impossible -- utterly impossible!"
"What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse.
"And you are a fool for having said anything about it," saida voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddlewith what does not concern you?"
The two men turned quickly, and saw the sickly countenanceof La Carconte peering between the baluster rails; attractedby the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself downthe stairs, and, seated on the lower step, head on knees,she had listened to the foregoing conversation. "Mind yourown business, wife," replied Caderousse sharply. "Thisgentleman asks me for information, which common politenesswill not permit me to refuse."
"Politeness, you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. "Whathave you to do with politeness, I should like to know?Better study a little common prudence. How do you know themotives that person may have for trying to extract all hecan from you?"
"I pledge you my word, madam," said the abbe, "that myintentions are good; and that you husband can incur no risk,provided he answers me candidly."
"Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing iseasier than to begin with fair promises and assurances ofnothing to fear; but when poor, silly folks, like my husbandthere, have been persuaded to tell all they know, thepromises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten; andat some moment when nobody is expecting it, behold troubleand misery, and all sorts of persecutions, are heaped on theunfortunate wretches, who cannot even see whence all theirafflictions come."
"Nay, nay, my good woman, make yourself perfectly easy, Ibeg of you. Whatever evils may befall you, they will not beoccasioned by my instrumentality, that I solemnly promiseyou."
La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words, then let herhead again drop upon her knees, and went into a fit of ague,leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, butremaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered.Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught ofwater to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him.When he had sufficiently recovered himself, he said, "Itappears, then, that the miserable old man you were tellingme of was forsaken by every one. Surely, had not such beenthe case, he would not have perished by so dreadful adeath."
"Why, he was not altogether forsaken," continued Caderousse,"for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kindto him; but somehow the poor old man had contracted aprofound hatred for Fernand -- the very person," addedCaderousse with a bitter smile, "that you named just now asbeing one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends."
"And was he not so?" asked the abbe.
"Gaspard, Gaspard!" murmured the woman, from her seat on thestairs, "mind what you are saying!" Caderousse made no replyto these words, though evidently irritated and annoyed bythe interruption, but, addressing the abbe, said, "Can a manbe faithful to another whose wife he covets and desires forhimself? But Dantes was so honorable and true in his ownnature, that he believed everybody's professions offriendship. Poor Edmond, he was cruelly deceived; but it wasfortunate that he never knew, or he might have found it moredifficult, when on his deathbed, to pardon his enemies. And,whatever people may say," continued Caderousse, in hisnative language, which was not altogether devoid of rudepoetry, "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea ofthe malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living."
"Imbecile!" exclaimed La Carconte.
"Do you, then, know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?"inquired the abbe of Caderousse.
"Do I? No one better."
"Speak out then, say what it was!"
"Gaspard!" cried La Carconte, "do as you will; you aremaster -- but if you take my advice you'll hold yourtongue."
"Well, wife," replied Caderousse, "I don't know but whatyou're right!"
"So you will say nothing?" asked the abbe.
"Why, what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. "If the poorlad were living, and came to me and begged that I wouldcandidly tell which were his true and which his falsefriends, why, perhaps, I should not hesitate. But you tellme he is no more, and therefore can have nothing to do withhatred or revenge, so let all such feeling be buried withhim."
"You prefer, then," said the abbe, "that I should bestow onmen you say are false and treacherous, the reward intendedfor faithful friendship?"
"That is true enough," returned Caderousse. "You say truly,the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors asFernand and Danglars; besides, what would it be to them? nomore than a drop of water in the ocean."
"Remember," chimed in La Carconte, "those two could crushyou at a single blow!"
"How so?" inquired the abbe. "Are these persons, then, sorich and powerful?"
"Do you not know their history?"
"I do not. Pray relate it to me!" Caderousse seemed toreflect for a few moments, then said, "No, truly, it wouldtake up too much time."
"Well, my good friend," returned the abbe, in a tone thatindicated utter indifference on his part, "you are atliberty, either to speak or be silent, just as you please;for my own part, I respect your scruples and admire yoursentiments; so let the matter end. I shall do my duty asconscientiously as I can, and fulfil my promise to the dyingman. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond."So saying, the abbe again draw the small box from hispocket, opened it, and contrived to hold it in such a light,that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before thedazzled gaze of Caderousse.
"Wife, wife!" cried he in a hoarse voice, "come here!"
"Diamond!" exclaimed La Carconte, rising and descending tothe chamber with a tolerably firm step; "what diamond areyou talking about?"
"Why, did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse."It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes, to besold, and the money divided between his father, Mercedes,his betrothed bride, Fernand, Danglars, and myself. Thejewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs."
"Oh, what a magnificent jewel!" cried the astonished woman.
"The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to usthen, does it not?" asked Caderousse.
"It does," replied the abbe; "with the addition of an equaldivision of that part intended for the elder Dantes, which Ibelieve myself at liberty to divide equally with the foursurvivors."
"And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse.
"As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful anddevoted to him."
"I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you,"murmured the wife in her turn, in a low, muttering voice.
"Of course not!" rejoined Caderousse quickly; "no more do I,and that was what I was observing to this gentleman justnow. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanationto reward treachery, perhaps crime."
"Remember," answered the abbe calmly, as he replaced thejewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock, "it is yourfault, not mine, that I do so. You will have the goodness tofurnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars, inorder that I may execute Edmond's last wishes." Theagitation of Caderousse became extreme, and large drops ofperspiration rolled from his heated brow. As he saw the abberise from his seat and go towards the door, as though toascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed tocontinue his journey, Caderousse and his wife exchangedlooks of deep meaning.
"There, you see, wife," said the former, "this splendiddiamond might all be ours, if we chose!"
"Do you believe it?"
"Why, surely a man of his holy profession would not deceiveus!"
"Well," replied La Carconte, "do as you like. For my part, Iwash my hands of the affair." So saying, she once moreclimbed the staircase leading to her chamber, her bodyconvulsed with chills, and her teeth rattling in her head,in spite of the intense heat of the weather. Arrived at thetop stair, she turned round, and called out, in a warningtone, to her husband, "Gaspard, consider well what you areabout to do!"
"I have both reflected and decided," answered he. LaCarconte then entered her chamber, the flooring of whichcreaked beneath her heavy, uncertain tread, as she proceededtowards her arm-chair, into which she fell as thoughexhausted.
"Well," asked the abbe, as he returned to the apartmentbelow, "what have you made up your mind to do?"
"To tell you all I know," was the reply.
"I certainly think you act wisely in so doing," said thepriest. "Not because I have the least desire to learnanything you may please to conceal from me, but simply thatif, through your assistance, I could distribute the legacyaccording to the wishes of the testator, why, so much thebetter, that is all."
"I hope it may be so," replied Caderousse, his face flushedwith cupidity.
"I am all attention," said the abbe.
What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse.
"Stop a minute," answered Caderousse; "we might beinterrupted in the most interesting part of my story, whichwould be a pity; and it is as well that your visit hithershould be made known only to ourselves." With these words hewent stealthily to the door, which he closed, and, by way ofstill greater precaution, bolted and barred it, as he wasaccustomed to do at night. During this time the abbe hadchosen his place for listening at his ease. He removed hisseat into a corner of the room, where he himself would be indeep shadow, while the light would be fully thrown on thenarrator; then, with head bent down and hands clasped, orrather clinched together, he prepared to give his wholeattention to Caderousse, who seated himself on the littlestool, exactly opposite to him.
"Remember, this is no affair of mine," said the tremblingvoice of La Carconte, as though through the flooring of herchamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below.
"Enough, enough!" replied Caderousse; "say no more about it;I will take all the consequences upon myself." And he beganhis story.