基督山伯爵 英文版 The Count of Monte Cristo
大仲马 Alexandre Dumas père
Chapter 40 Page 1
The Breakfast.
"And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" saidBeauchamp.
"A gentleman, and a diplomatist."
"Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman, andthree for the diplomatist. I shall come back to dessert;keep me some strawberries, coffee, and cigars. I shall takea cutlet on my way to the Chamber."
"Do not do anything of the sort; for were the gentleman aMontmorency, and the diplomatist a Metternich, we willbreakfast at eleven; in the meantime, follow Debray'sexample, and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit."
"Be it so; I will stay; I must do something to distract mythoughts."
"You are like Debray, and yet it seems to me that when theminister is out of spirits, the opposition ought to bejoyous."
"Ah, you do not know with what I am threatened. I shall hearthis morning that M. Danglars make a speech at the Chamberof Deputies, and at his wife's this evening I shall hear thetragedy of a peer of France. The devil take theconstitutional government, and since we had our choice, asthey say, at least, how could we choose that?"
"I understand; you must lay in a stock of hilarity."
"Do not run down M. Danglars' speeches," said Debray; "hevotes for you, for he belongs to the opposition."
"Pardieu, that is exactly the worst of all. I am waitinguntil you send him to speak at the Luxembourg, to laugh atmy ease."
"My dear friend," said Albert to Beauchamp, "it is plainthat the affairs of Spain are settled, for you are mostdesperately out of humor this morning. Recollect thatParisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself andMlle. Eugenie Danglars; I cannot in conscience, therefore,let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day sayto me, `Vicomte, you know I give my daughter two millions.'"
"Ah, this marriage will never take place," said Beauchamp."The king has made him a baron, and can make him a peer, buthe cannot make him a gentleman, and the Count of Morcerf istoo aristocratic to consent, for the paltry sum of twomillion francs, to a mesalliance. The Viscount of Morcerfcan only wed a marchioness."
"But two million francs make a nice little sum," repliedMorcerf.
"It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard, ora railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee."
"Never mind what he says, Morcerf," said Debray, "do youmarry her. You marry a money-bag label, it is true; well,but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazonless and a figure more on it. You have seven martlets onyour arms; give three to your wife, and you will still havefour; that is one more than M. de Guise had, who so nearlybecame King of France, and whose cousin was Emperor ofGermany."
"On my word, I think you are right, Lucien," said Albertabsently.
"To be sure; besides, every millionaire is as noble as abastard -- that is, he can be."
"Do not say that, Debray," returned Beauchamp, laughing,"for here is Chateau-Renaud, who, to cure you of your maniafor paradoxes, will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban,his ancestor, through your body."
"He will sully it then," returned Lucien; "for I am low --very low."
"Oh, heavens," cried Beauchamp, "the minister quotesBeranger, what shall we come to next?"
"M. de Chateau-Renaud -- M. Maximilian Morrel," said theservant, announcing two fresh guests.
"Now, then, to breakfast," said Beauchamp; "for, if Iremember, you told me you only expected two persons,Albert."
"Morrel," muttered Albert -- "Morrel -- who is he?" Butbefore he had finished, M. de Chateau-Renaud, a handsomeyoung man of thirty, gentleman all over, -- that is, withthe figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart, -- tookAlbert's hand. "My dear Albert," said he, "let me introduceto you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, my friend;and what is more -- however the man speaks for himself ---mypreserver. Salute my hero, viscount." And he stepped on oneside to give place to a young man of refined and dignifiedbearing, with large and open brow, piercing eyes, and blackmustache, whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles,under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to beforgotten. A rich uniform, half French, half Oriental, setoff his graceful and stalwart figure, and his broad chestwas decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. Theyoung officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness."Monsieur," said Albert with affectionate courtesy, "thecount of Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure thisintroduction would give me; you are his friend, be oursalso."
"Well said," interrupted Chateau-Renaud; "and pray that, ifyou should ever be in a similar predicament, he may do asmuch for you as he did for me."
"What has he done?" asked Albert.
"Oh, nothing worth speaking of," said Morrel; "M. deChateau-Renaud exaggerates."
"Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud; "life is notworth speaking of! -- that is rather too philosophical, onmy word, Morrel. It is very well for you, who risk your lifeevery day, but for me, who only did so once" --
"We gather from all this, baron, that Captain Morrel savedyour life."
"Exactly so."
"On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp.
"Beauchamp, my good fellow, you know I am starving," saidDebray: "do not set him off on some long story."
"Well, I do not prevent your sitting down to table," repliedBeauchamp, "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat ourbreakfast."
"Gentlemen," said Morcerf, "it is only a quarter past ten,and I expect some one else."
"Ah, true, a diplomatist!" observed Debray.
"Diplomat or not, I don't know; I only know that he chargedhimself on my account with a mission, which he terminated soentirely to my satisfaction, that had I been king, I shouldhave instantly created him knight of all my orders, even hadI been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter."
"Well, since we are not to sit down to table," said Debray,"take a glass of sherry, and tell us all about it."
"You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa."
"It is a road your ancestors have traced for you," saidAlbert gallantly.
"Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs -- torescue the Holy Sepulchre."
"You are quite right, Beauchamp," observed the youngaristocrat. "It was only to fight as an amateur. I cannotbear duelling since two seconds, whom I had chosen toarrange an affair, forced me to break the arm of one of mybest friends, one whom you all know -- poor Franz d'Epinay."
"Ah, true," said Debray, "you did fight some time ago; aboutwhat?"
"The devil take me, if I remember," returned Chateau-Renaud."But I recollect perfectly one thing, that, being unwillingto let such talents as mine sleep, I wished to try upon theArabs the new pistols that had been given to me. Inconsequence I embarked for Oran, and went from thence toConstantine, where I arrived just in time to witness theraising of the siege. I retreated with the rest, for eightand forty hours. I endured the rain during the day, and thecold during the night tolerably well, but the third morningmy horse died of cold. Poor brute -- accustomed to becovered up and to have a stove in the stable, the Arabianfinds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia."
"You are mistaken, for I have made a vow never to return toAfrica."
"You were very much frightened, then?" asked Beauchamp.
"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," repliedChateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse wasdead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. Ishot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with mypistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left;one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it soshort, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung ayataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, whenthis gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the onewho held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the otherwith his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving aman's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself.When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmannor Marochetti."
"Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September,the anniversary of the day on which my father wasmiraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in mypower, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" --
"Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen.But that is not all -- after rescuing me from the sword, herescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me,like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then fromhunger by sharing with me -- guess what?"
"A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp.
"No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with ahearty appetite. It was very hard."
"The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing.
"No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray ifhe would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?"
"Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend Imight, perhaps."
"I divined that you would become mine, count," repliedMorrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism ornot, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to badfortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had onother days granted to us."
"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continuedChateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell yousome day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day letus fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do youbreakfast, Albert?"
"At half-past ten."
"Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch.
"Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf,"for I also expect a preserver."
"Of whom?"
"Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannotbe saved as well as any one else, and that there are onlyArabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropicone, and we shall have at table -- at least, I hope so --two benefactors of humanity."
"What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyonprize."
"Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing todeserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academymostly escapes from the dilemma."
"And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You havealready answered the question once, but so vaguely that Iventure to put it a second time."
"Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited himthree months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that timewho 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 myguest."
"I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there anymaterials 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 thismorning, and I must make up for it."
"I was at Rome during the last Carnival."
"We know that," said Beauchamp.
"Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off bybandits."
"There are no bandits," cried Debray.
"Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirableones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me."
"Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cookis behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostendor Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you aregoing to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we aresufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to yourhistory, fabulous as it promises to be."
"And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as atrue one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried meoff, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombsof Saint Sebastian."
"I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escapedcatching a fever there."
"And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caughtone. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sumof 4,000 Roman crowns -- about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately,I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and ofmy credit. I wrote to Franz -- and were he here he wouldconfirm every word -- I wrote then to Franz that if he didnot come with the four thousand crowns before six, at tenminutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saintsand glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor ofbeing; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of thechief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept hisword."
"But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," saidChateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay orAlbert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuringthem."
"No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am goingto present to you."
"Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseusfreeing 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 aman 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 hisancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the DeadSea."
"I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian."Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spokenof by the old sailors my father employed -- a grain of sandin the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in theinfinite."
"Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is thelord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he haspurchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany."
"He is rich, then?"
"I believe so."
"But that ought to be visible."
"That is what deceives you, Debray."
"I do not understand you."
"Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?"
"What a question!"
"Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich orpoor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds?They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open somemysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies."
"Which means?"
"Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of thosefishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since hecalls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled withgold."
"And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp.
The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say, -- "Areyou mad, or are you laughing at us?"
"And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heardsomething like this from an old sailor named Penelon."
"Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comesto aid me; you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives aclew to the labyrinth?"
"My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is soextraordinary."
"Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tellyou of them -- they have no time. They are too much taken upwith interfering in the affairs of their countrymen whotravel."
"Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will youhave them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salariesevery day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you beambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople."
"No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor ofMehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make mysecretaries strangle me."
"You say very true," responded Debray.
"Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with theexistence of the Count of Monte Cristo."
"Pardieu, every one exists."
"Doubtless, but not in the same way; every one has not blackslaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that woulddo credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost sixthousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses."
"Have you seen the Greek mistress?"
"I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre,and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with thecount."
"He eats, then?"
"Yes; but so little, it can hardly be called eating."
"He must be a vampire."
"Laugh, if you will; the Countess G---- , who knew LordRuthven, declared that the count was a vampire."
"Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected withnewspapers, here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent ofthe Constitutionnel."
"Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates atpleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed,magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharpand white teeth, politeness unexceptionable."
"Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf; "you have described himfeature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. Thisman has often made me shudder; and one day that we wereviewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more fromhearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of everydescription of torture, than from the sight of theexecutioner and the culprit."
"Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum andsuck your blood?" asked Beauchamp.
"Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flamingparchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did hisbirth-right?"
"Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf,somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers onthe Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think ofthis man, it seems to me we are not of the same race."
"I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the sametime," added Chateau-Renaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo isa very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangementswith the Italian banditti."
"There are no Italian banditti," said Debray.
"No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo"added Debray. "There is half-past ten striking, Albert."
"Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down tobreakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clockhad not died away when Germain announced, "His excellencythe Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every onegave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them,and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifestingsudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in thestreet, or steps in the ante-chamber; the door had itselfopened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with thegreatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy couldhave found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every articleof dress -- hat, coat, gloves, and boots -- was from thefirst makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But whatstruck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portraitDebray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into thecentre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastenedtowards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner."Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness ofkings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think; but itis not the same with travellers. However, I hope you willexcuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand; fivehundred leagues are not to be accomplished without sometrouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it isforbidden to beat the postilions."