The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
he is innocent!” sobbed forth Mercédès.
“That I believe!” answered M. Morrel; “but still he is charged———”
“With what?” inquired the elder Dantès.
“With being an agent of the Bonapartist faction!”
Many of my readers may be able to recollect how formidable such an accusation became in the period at which our story is dated.
A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercédès, while the heart-broken father fell listlessly into a chair, kindly placed for him by one of the pitying guests.
“Ah, Danglars!” whispered Caderousse, “you have deceived me—the trick you spoke of last night has been played off, I see; but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. I am determined to tell them all about it.”
“Be silent, you simpleton!” cried Danglars, grasping him by the arm, “or I will not answer even for your own safety. Who can tell whether Dantès be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba, where he quitted it, and passed a whole day in the island. Now, should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him, will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?”
With the rapid instinct of selfishness, Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning; he gazed doubtfully, wistfully on Danglars, and then insensibly continued to retreat from the dangerous proximity in which he found himself.
“Suppose we wait a while, and see what comes of it!” said he, casting a bewildered look on his companion.
“To be sure!” answered Danglars. “Let us wait, by all means. If he be innocent, of course he will be set at liberty; if guilty, why, it is no use involving ourselves in his conspiracy.”
“Then let us go hence. I cannot stay to endure the sight of that old man’s distress.”
“With all my heart!” replied Danglars, but too pleased to find a partner in his retreat. “Let us take ourselves out of the way, and leave every one else to do the same thing, if they please.”
After their departure, Fernand, who had now again become the only friend and protector poor Mercédès could find in this trying hour, led the weeping girl back to her home, which she had quitted with such different hopes and feelings in the morning, while some friends of Dantès conducted the poor heart-broken parent to his childless and dreary abode.
The rumour of Edmond’s arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city.
“Could you ever have credited such a thing, my dear Danglars?” asked M. Morrel, as on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantès, he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse. “Could you have believed such a thing possible?”
“Why, you know I told you,” replied Danglars, “that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored in the Isle of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance.”
“And did you mention these suspicions to any person besides myself?”
“Certainly not!” returned Danglars. Then added in a low whisper, “You understand that, on account of your uncle, M. Polican Morrel, who served under the other government, and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject, you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself, had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul. I am too well aware that though a subordinate, like myself, is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs, there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else.”
“‘Tis well, Danglars—‘tis well!” replied M. Morrel. “You are a worthy fellow; and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon.”
“Is it possible you were so kind?”
“Yes, indeed; I had previously inquired of Dantès what was his opinion of you, and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post, for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you two that led me to believe that he would rather have another in your place as supercargo.”
“And what was his reply?”
“That he certainly did think he had given you offence in an affair which he merely referred to without entering into particulars, but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship’s owners would have his preference also.”
“The hypocrite!” murmured Danglars, between his teeth.
“Poor Dantès!” said Caderousse. “No one can deny his being a noble-hearted young fellow!”
“But in the midst of all our trouble,” continued M. Morrel, “we must not forget that the Pharaon has at present no captain.”
“Oh!” replied Danglars, “since we cannot leave this port for the next three months, let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantès will be set at liberty.”
“Of that I entertain no doubt; but in the meantime what are we to do?”
“I am entirely at your service, M. Morrel,” answered Danglars. “You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service; and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services, that upon Edmond’s release from prison no further change will be requisite on board the Pharaon than for Dantès and myself each to resume our respective posts.”
“Thanks! thanks! my good friend, for your excellent idea and acceptable proposition—that will smooth all difficulties. I fully authorise you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon, and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. Private misfortunes must never induce us to neglect public affairs.”
“Depend upon my zeal and attention, M. Morrel; but when do you think it likely we may be permitted to visit our poor friend in his prison?”
“I will let you know that directly I have seen M. de Villefort, whom I shall endeavour to interest in Edmond’s favour. I am aware he is a furious royalist; but, spite of that, and of his being the king’s procureur, he is a man like ourselves, and I fancy not a bad sort of one!”
“Perhaps not,” replied Danglars; “but he is universally spoken of as extremely ambitious, and ambition is a sore hardener of the heart!”
“Well, well!” returned M. Morrel, “we shall see! But now hasten on board. I will join you there ere long.” So saying, the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies, and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice.
“You see,” said Danglars, addressing Caderousse, “the turn things have taken. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?”
“Not the slightest, but yet it seems to me a shocking thing a mere joke should lead to such frightful consequences.”
“But who perpetrated that joke, let me ask? neither you nor myself, but Fernand: you know very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room,—indeed, I fancied I had destroyed it.”
“Oh, no!” replied Caderousse, “that I can answer for, you did not. I only wish I could see it now as plainly as I saw it lying all crushed and crumpled in a corner of the arbour.”
“Well, then, if you did, depend upon it, Fernand picked it up, and either copied it or caused it to be copied; perhaps, even, he did not take the trouble of recopying it. And now I think of it, by heavens! he has sent the letter itself! Fortunately, for me, the handwriting was disguised.”
“Then you were aware of Dantès being engaged in a conspiracy?”
“Not I. As I before said, I thought the whole thing was a joke, nothing more. It seems, however, that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth.”
“Still,” argued Caderousse,