基督山伯爵 英文版 The Count of Monte Cristo
大仲马 Alexandre Dumas père
Chapter 47 Page 2
"You are, then, doubtless, the Count of Monte Cristo, ofwhom Hermine has talked to me so much?"
"You have rightly guessed, madame," replied the count.
"And I am Madame Heloise de Villefort." The count bowed withthe air of a person who hears a name for the first time."How grateful will M. de Villefort be for all your goodness;how thankfully will he acknowledge that to you alone he owesthe existence of his wife and child! Most certainly, but forthe prompt assistance of your intrepid servant, this dearchild and myself must both have perished."
"Indeed, I still shudder at the fearful danger you wereplaced in."
"I trust you will allow me to recompense worthily thedevotion of your man."
"I beseech you, madame," replied Monte Cristo "not to spoilAli, either by too great praise or rewards. I cannot allowhim to acquire the habit of expecting to be recompensed forevery trifling service he may render. Ali is my slave, andin saving your life he was but discharging his duty to me."
life hehas risked his own."but I have now ample cause to admit?
"Nay," interposed Madame de Villefort, on whom theauthoritative style adopted by the count made a deepimpression, "nay, but consider that to preserve my life hehas risked his own."
"His life, madame, belongs not to him; it is mine, in returnfor my having myself saved him from death." Madame deVillefort made no further reply; her mind was utterlyabsorbed in the contemplation of the person who, from thefirst instant she saw him, had made so powerful animpression on her. During the evident preoccupation ofMadame de Villefort, Monte Cristo scrutinized the featuresand appearance of the boy she kept folded in her arms,lavishing on him the most tender endearments. The child wassmall for his age, and unnaturally pale. A mass of straightblack hair, defying all attempts to train or curl it, fellover his projecting forehead, and hung down to hisshoulders, giving increased vivacity to eyes alreadysparkling with a youthful love of mischief and fondness forevery forbidden enjoyment. His mouth was large, and thelips, which had not yet regained their color, wereparticularly thin; in fact, the deep and crafty look, givinga predominant expression to the child's face, belongedrather to a boy of twelve or fourteen than to one so young.His first movement was to free himself by a violent pushfrom the encircling arms of his mother, and to rush forwardto the casket from whence the count had taken the phial ofelixir; then, without asking permission of any one, heproceeded, in all the wilfulness of a spoiled childunaccustomed to restrain either whims or caprices, to pullthe corks out of all the bottles.
"Touch nothing, my little friend," cried the count eagerly;"some of those liquids are not only dangerous to taste, buteven to inhale."
Madame de Villefort became very pale, and, seizing her son'sarm, drew him anxiously toward her; but, once satisfied ofhis safety, she also cast a brief but expressive glance onthe casket, which was not lost upon the count. At thismoment Ali entered. At sight of him Madame de Villefortuttered an expression of pleasure, and, holding the childstill closer towards her, she said, "Edward, dearest, do yousee that good man? He has shown very great courage andresolution, for he exposed his own life to stop the horsesthat were running away with us, and would certainly havedashed the carriage to pieces. Thank him, then, my child, inyour very best manner; for, had he not come to our aid,neither you nor I would have been alive to speak ourthanks." The child stuck out his lips and turned away hishead in a disdainful manner, saying, "He's too ugly."
The count smiled as if the child bade fair to realize hishopes, while Madame de Villefort reprimanded her son with agentleness and moderation very far from conveying the leastidea of a fault having been committed. "This lady," said theCount, speaking to Ali in the Arabic language, "is desirousthat her son should thank you for saving both their lives;but the boy refuses, saying you are too ugly." Ali turnedhis intelligent countenance towards the boy, on whom hegazed without any apparent emotion; but the spasmodicworking of the nostrils showed to the practiced eye of MonteCristo that the Arab had been wounded to the heart.
"Will you permit me to inquire," said Madame de Villefort,as she arose to take her leave, "whether you usually residehere?"
"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo; "it is a small place Ihave purchased quite lately. My place of abode is No. 30,Avenue des Champs Elysees; but I see you have quiterecovered from your fright, and are, no doubt, desirous ofreturning home. Anticipating your wishes, I have desired thesame horses you came with to be put to one of my carriages,and Ali, he whom you think so very ugly," continued he,addressing the boy with a smiling air, "will have the honorof driving you home, while your coachman remains here toattend to the necessary repairs of your calash. As soon asthat important business is concluded, I will have a pair ofmy own horses harnessed to convey it direct to MadameDanglars."
"I dare not return with those dreadful horses," said Madamede Villefort.
"You will see," replied Monte Cristo, "that they will be asdifferent as possible in the hands of Ali. With him theywill be gentle and docile as lambs." Ali had, indeed, givenproof of this; for, approaching the animals, who had beengot upon their legs with considerable difficulty, he rubbedtheir foreheads and nostrils with a sponge soaked inaromatic vinegar, and wiped off the sweat and foam thatcovered their mouths. Then, commencing a loud whistlingnoise, he rubbed them well all over their bodies for severalminutes; then, undisturbed by the noisy crowd collectedround the broken carriage, Ali quietly harnessed thepacified animals to the count's chariot, took the reins inhis hands, and mounted the box, when to the utterastonishment of those who had witnessed the ungovernablespirit and maddened speed of the same horses, he wasactually compelled to apply his whip in no very gentlemanner before he could induce them to start; and even thenall that could be obtained from the celebrated "dappledgrays," now changed into a couple of dull, sluggish, stupidbrutes, was a slow, pottering pace, kept up with so muchdifficulty that Madame de Villefort was more than two hoursreturning to her residence in the Faubourg St. Honore.
Scarcely had the first congratulations upon her marvellousescape been gone through when she wrote the following letterto Madame Danglars: --
Dear Hermine, -- I have just had a wonderful escape from themost imminent danger, and I owe my safety to the very Countof Monte Cristo we were talking about yesterday, but whom Ilittle expected to see to-day. I remember how unmercifully Ilaughed at what I considered your eulogistic and exaggeratedpraises of him; but I have now ample cause to admit thatyour enthusiastic description of this wonderful man fell farshort of his merits. Your horses got as far as Ranelagh,when they darted forward like mad things, and galloped awayat so fearful a rate, that there seemed no other prospectfor myself and my poor Edward but that of being dashed topieces against the first object that impeded their progress,when a strange-looking man, -- an Arab, a negro, or aNubian, at least a black of some nation or other -- at asignal from the count, whose domestic he is, suddenly seizedand stopped the infuriated animals, even at the risk ofbeing trampled to death himself; and certainly he must havehad a most wonderful escape. The count then hastened to us,and took us into his house, where he speedily recalled mypoor Edward to life. He sent us home in his own carriage.Yours will be returned to you to-morrow. You will find yourhorses in bad condition, from the results of this accident;they seem thoroughly stupefied, as if sulky and vexed athaving been conquered by man. The count, however, hiscommissioned me to assure you that two or three days' rest,with plenty of barley for their sole food during that time,will bring them back to as fine, that is as terrifying, acondition as they were in yesterday. Adieu! I cannot returnyou many thanks for the drive of yesterday; but, after all,I ought not to blame you for the misconduct of your horses,more especially as it procured me the pleasure of anintroduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, -- and certainlythat illustrious personage, apart from the millions he issaid to be so very anxious to dispose of, seemed to me oneof those curiously interesting problems I, for one, delightin solving at any risk, even if it were to necessitateanother drive to the Bois behind your horses. Edward enduredthe accident with miraculous courage -- he did not utter asingle cry, but fell lifeless into my arms; nor did a tearfall from his eyes after it was over. I doubt not you willconsider these praises the result of blind maternalaffection, but there is a soul of iron in that delicate,fragile body. Valentine sends many affectionate remembrancesto your dear Eugenie. I embrace you with all my heart.
Heloise de Villefort.
P.S. -- Do pray contrive some means for me to meet the Countof Monte Cristo at your house. I must and will see himagain. I have just made M. de Villefort promise to call onhim, and I hope the visit will be returned.
That night the adventure at Auteuil was talked ofeverywhere. Albert related it to his mother; Chateau-Renaudrecounted it at the Jockey Club, and Debray detailed it atlength in the salons of the minister; even Beauchampaccorded twenty lines in his journal to the relation of thecount's courage and gallantry, thereby celebrating him asthe greatest hero of the day in the eyes of all the femininemembers of the aristocracy. Vast was the crowd of visitorsand inquiring friends who left their names at the residenceof Madame de Villefort, with the design of renewing theirvisit at the right moment, of hearing from her lips all theinteresting circumstances of this most romantic adventure.As for M. de Villefort, he fulfilled the predictions ofHeloise to the letter, -- donned his dress suit, drew on apair of white gloves, ordered the servants to attend thecarriage dressed in their full livery, and drove that samenight to No. 30 in the Avenue des Champs-Elysees.