The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated

  Chapter 60. The Telegraph

  M. and Madame de Villefort found on their return that the Count of MonteCristo, who had come to visit them in their absence, had been usheredinto the drawing-room, and was still awaiting them there. Madame deVillefort, who had not yet sufficiently recovered from her late emotionto allow of her entertaining visitors so immediately, retired to herbedroom, while the procureur, who could better depend upon himself,proceeded at once to the salon.

  Although M. de Villefort flattered himself that, to all outward view, hehad completely masked the feelings which were passing in his mind, hedid not know that the cloud was still lowering on his brow, so much sothat the count, whose smile was radiant, immediately noticed his sombreand thoughtful air.

  “Ma foi!” said Monte Cristo, after the first compliments were over,“what is the matter with you, M. de Villefort? Have I arrived at themoment when you were drawing up an indictment for a capital crime?”

  Villefort tried to smile.

  “No, count,” he replied, “I am the only victim in this case. It is I wholose my cause, and it is ill-luck, obstinacy, and folly which havecaused it to be decided against me.”

  “To what do you refer?” said Monte Cristo with well-feigned interest.“Have you really met with some great misfortune?”

  “Oh, no, monsieur,” said Villefort with a bitter smile; “it is only aloss of money which I have sustained—nothing worth mentioning, I assureyou.”

  “True,” said Monte Cristo, “the loss of a sum of money becomes almostimmaterial with a fortune such as you possess, and to one of yourphilosophic spirit.”

  “It is not so much the loss of the money that vexes me,” said Villefort,“though, after all, 900,000 francs are worth regretting; but I am themore annoyed with this fate, chance, or whatever you please to call thepower which has destroyed my hopes and my fortune, and may blast theprospects of my child also, as it is all occasioned by an old manrelapsed into second childhood.”

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  “What do you say?” said the count; “900,000 francs? It is indeed a sumwhich might be regretted even by a philosopher. And who is the cause ofall this annoyance?”

  “My father, as I told you.”

  “M. Noirtier? But I thought you told me he had become entirelyparalyzed, and that all his faculties were completely destroyed?”

  “Yes, his bodily faculties, for he can neither move nor speak,nevertheless he thinks, acts, and wills in the manner I have described.I left him about five minutes ago, and he is now occupied in dictatinghis will to two notaries.”

  “But to do this he must have spoken?”

  “He has done better than that—he has made himself understood.”

  “How was such a thing possible?”

  “By the help of his eyes, which are still full of life, and, as youperceive, possess the power of inflicting mortal injury.”

  “My dear,” said Madame de Villefort, who had just entered the room,“perhaps you exaggerate the evil.”

  “Good-morning, madame,” said the count, bowing.

  Madame de Villefort acknowledged the salutation with one of her mostgracious smiles.

  “What is this that M. de Villefort has been telling me?” demanded MonteCristo “and what incomprehensible misfortune——”

  “Incomprehensible is the word!” interrupted the procureur, shrugging hisshoulders. “It is an old man’s caprice!”

  “And is there no means of making him revoke his decision?”

  “Yes,” said Madame de Villefort; “and it is still entirely in the powerof my husband to cause the will, which is now in prejudice of Valentine,to be altered in her favor.”

  The count, who perceived that M. and Madame de Villefort were beginningto speak in parables, appeared to pay no attention to the conversation,and feigned to be busily engaged in watching Edward, who wasmischievously pouring some ink into the bird’s water-glass.

  “My dear,” said Villefort, in answer to his wife, “you know I have neverbeen accustomed to play the patriarch in my family, nor have I everconsidered that the fate of a universe was to be decided by my nod.Nevertheless, it is necessary that my will should be respected in myfamily, and that the folly of an old man and the caprice of a childshould not be allowed to overturn a project which I have entertained forso many years. The Baron d’Épinay was my friend, as you know, and analliance with his son is the most suitable thing that could possibly bearranged.”

  “Do you think,” said Madame de Villefort, “that Valentine is in leaguewith him? She has always been opposed to this marriage, and I should notbe at all surprised if what we have just seen and heard is nothing butthe execution of a plan concerted between them.”

  “Madame,” said Villefort, “believe me, a fortune of 900,000 francs isnot so easily renounced.”

  “She could, nevertheless, make up her mind to renounce the world, sir,since it is only about a year ago that she herself proposed entering aconvent.”

  “Never mind,” replied Villefort; “I say that this marriage shall beconsummated.”

  “Notwithstanding your father’s wishes to the contrary?” said Madame deVillefort, selecting a new point of attack. “That is a serious thing.”

  Monte Cristo, who pretended not to be listening, heard however, everyword that was said.

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  “Madame,” replied Villefort “I can truly say that I have alwaysentertained a high respect for my father, because, to the naturalfeeling of relationship was added the consciousness of his moralsuperiority. The name of father is sacred in two senses; he should bereverenced as the author of our being and as a master whom we ought toobey. But, under the present circumstances, I am justified in doubtingthe wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the father, vents hisanger on the son. It would be ridiculous in me to regulate my conduct bysuch caprices. I shall still continue to preserve the same respecttoward M. Noirtier; I will suffer, without complaint, the pecuniarydeprivation to which he has subjected me; but I shall remain firm in mydetermination, and the world shall see which party has reason on hisside. Consequently I shall marry my daughter to the Baron Franzd’Épinay, because I consider it would be a proper and eligible match forher to make, and, in short, because I choose to bestow my daughter’shand on whomever I please.”

  “What?” said the count, the approbation of whose eye Villefort hadfrequently solicited during this speech. “What? Do you say that M.Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going tomarry M. le Baron Franz d’Épinay?”

  “Yes, sir, that is the reason,” said Villefort, shrugging his shoulders.

  “The apparent reason, at least,” said Madame de Villefort.

  “The real reason, madame, I can assure you; I know my father.”

  “But I want to know in what way M. d’Épinay can have displeased yourfather more than any other person?”

  “I believe I know M. Franz d’Épinay,” said the count; “is he not the sonof General de Quesnel, who was created Baron d’Épinay by Charles X.?”

  “The same,” said Villefort.

  “Well, but he is a charming young man, according to my ideas.”

  “He is, which makes me believe that it is only an excuse of M. Noirtierto prevent his granddaughter marrying; old men are always so selfish intheir affection,” said Madame de Villefort.

  “But,” said Monte Cristo “do you not know any cause for this hatred?”

  “Ah, ma foi! who is to know?”

  “Perhaps it is some political difference?”

  “My father and the Baron d’Épinay lived in the stormy times of which Ionly saw the ending,” said Villefort.

  “Was not your father a Bonapartist?” asked Monte Cristo; “I think Iremember that you told me something of that kind.”

  “My father has been a Jacobin more than anything else,” said Villefort,carried by his emotion beyond the bounds of prudence; “and the senator’srobe, which Napoleon cast on his shoulders, only served to disguise theold man without in
any degree changing him. When my father conspired, itwas not for the emperor, it was against the Bourbons; for M. Noirtierpossessed this peculiarity, he never projected any Utopian schemes whichcould never be realized, but strove for possibilities, and he applied tothe realization of these possibilities the terrible theories of TheMountain,—theories that never shrank from any means that were deemednecessary to bring about the desired result.”

  “Well,” said Monte Cristo, “it is just as I thought; it was politicswhich brought Noirtier and M. d’Épinay into personal contact. AlthoughGeneral d’Épinay served under Napoleon, did he not still retain royalistsentiments? And was he not the person who was assassinated one eveningon leaving a Bonapartist meeting to which he had been invited on thesupposition that he favored the cause of the emperor?”

  Villefort looked at the count almost with terror.

  “Am I mistaken, then?” said Monte Cristo.

  “No, sir, the facts were precisely what you have stated,” said Madame deVillefort; “and it was to prevent the renewal of old feuds that M. deVillefort formed the idea of uniting in the bonds of affection the twochildren of these inveterate enemies.”

  “It was a sublime and charitable thought,” said Monte Cristo, “and thewhole world should applaud it. It would be noble to see MademoiselleNoirtier de Villefort assuming the title of Madame Franz d’Épinay.”

  Villefort shuddered and looked at Monte Cristo as if he wished to readin his countenance the real feelings which had dictated the words he hadjust uttered. But the count completely baffled the procureur, andprevented him from discovering anything beneath the never-varying smilehe was so constantly in the habit of assuming.

  “Although,” said Villefort, “it will be a serious thing for Valentine tolose her grandfather’s fortune, I do not think that M. d’Épinay will befrightened at this pecuniary loss. He will, perhaps, hold me in greateresteem than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice everything inorder to keep my word with him. Besides, he knows that Valentine is richin right of her mother, and that she will, in all probability, inheritthe fortune of M. and Madame de Saint-Méran, her mother’s parents, whoboth love her tenderly.”

  “And who are fully as well worth loving and tending as M. Noirtier,”said Madame de Villefort; “besides, they are to come to Paris in about amonth, and Valentine, after the affront she has received, need notconsider it necessary to continue to bury herself alive by being shut upwith M. Noirtier.”

  The count listened with satisfaction to this tale of wounded self-loveand defeated ambition.

  “But it seems to me,” said Monte Cristo, “and I must begin by askingyour pardon for what I am about to say, that if M. Noirtier disinheritsMademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry a man whosefather he detested, he cannot have the same cause of complaint againstthis dear Edward.”

  “True,” said Madame de Villefort, with an intonation of voice which itis impossible to describe; “is it not unjust—shamefully unjust? PoorEdward is as much M. Noirtier’s grandchild as Valentine, and yet, if shehad not been going to marry M. Franz, M. Noirtier would have left herall his money; and supposing Valentine to be disinherited by hergrandfather, she will still be three times richer than he.”

  The count listened and said no more.

  “Count,” said Villefort, “we will not entertain you any longer with ourfamily misfortunes. It is true that my patrimony will go to endowcharitable institutions, and my father will have deprived me of mylawful inheritance without any reason for doing so, but I shall have thesatisfaction of knowing that I have acted like a man of sense andfeeling. M. d’Épinay, to whom I had promised the interest of this sum,shall receive it, even if I endure the most cruel privations.”

  “However,” said Madame de Villefort, returning to the one idea whichincessantly occupied her mind, “perhaps it would be better to explainthis unlucky affair to M. d’Épinay, in order to give him the opportunityof himself renouncing his claim to the hand of Mademoiselle deVillefort.”

  “Ah, that would be a great pity,” said Villefort.

  “A great pity,” said Monte Cristo.

  “Undoubtedly,” said Villefort, moderating the tones of his voice, “amarriage once concerted and then broken off, throws a sort of discrediton a young lady; then again, the old reports, which I was so anxious toput an end to, will instantly gain ground. No, it will all go well; M.d’Épinay, if he is an honorable man, will consider himself more thanever pledged to Mademoiselle de Villefort, unless he were actuated by adecided feeling of avarice, but that is impossible.”

  “I agree with M. de Villefort,” said Monte Cristo, fixing his eyes onMadame de Villefort; “and if I were sufficiently intimate with him toallow of giving my advice, I would persuade him, since I have been toldM. d’Épinay is coming back, to settle this affair at once beyond allpossibility of revocation. I will answer for the success of a projectwhich will reflect so much honor on M. de Villefort.”

  The procureur arose, delighted with the proposition, but his wifeslightly changed color.

  “Well, that is all that I wanted, and I will be guided by a counsellorsuch as you are,” said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo.“Therefore let everyone here look upon what has passed today as if ithad not happened, and as though we had never thought of such a thing asa change in our original plans.”

  “Sir,” said the count, “the world, unjust as it is, will be pleased withyour resolution; your friends will be proud of you, and M. d’Épinay,even if he took Mademoiselle de Villefort without any dowry, which hewill not do, would be delighted with the idea of entering a family whichcould make such sacrifices in order to keep a promise and fulfil aduty.”

  At the conclusion of these words, the count rose to depart.

  “Are you going to leave us, count?” said Madame de Villefort.

  “I am sorry to say I must do so, madame, I only came to remind you ofyour promise for Saturday.”

  “Did you fear that we should forget it?”

  “You are very good, madame, but M. de Villefort has so many importantand urgent occupations.”

  “My husband has given me his word, sir,” said Madame de Villefort; “youhave just seen him resolve to keep it when he has everything to lose,and surely there is more reason for his doing so where he has everythingto gain.”

  “And,” said Villefort, “is it at your house in the Champs-Élysées thatyou receive your visitors?”

  “No,” said Monte Cristo, “which is precisely the reason which rendersyour kindness more meritorious,—it is in the country.”

  “In the country?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is it, then? Near Paris, is it not?”

  “Very near, only half a league from the Barriers,—it is at Auteuil.”

  “At Auteuil?” said Villefort; “true, Madame de Villefort told me youlived at Auteuil, since it was to your house that she was taken. And inwhat part of Auteuil do you reside?”

  “Rue de la Fontaine.”

  “Rue de la Fontaine!” exclaimed Villefort in an agitated tone; “at whatnumber?”

  “No. 28.”

  “Then,” cried Villefort, “was it you who bought M. de Saint-Méran’shouse!”

  “Did it belong to M. de Saint-Méran?” demanded Monte Cristo.

  “Yes,” replied Madame de Villefort; “and, would you believe it, count——”

  “Believe what?”

  “You think this house pretty, do you not?”

  “I think it charming.”

  “Well, my husband would never live in it.”

  “Indeed?” returned Monte Cristo, “that is a prejudice on your part, M.de Villefort, for which I am quite at a loss to account.”

  “I do not like Auteuil, sir,” said the procureur, making an evidenteffort to appear calm.

  “But I hope you will not carry your antipathy so far as to deprive me ofthe pleasure of your company, sir,” said Monte Cristo.

  “No, count,—I hope—I assure you I shall do my best
,” stammeredVillefort.

  “Oh,” said Monte Cristo, “I allow of no excuse. On Saturday, at sixo’clock. I shall be expecting you, and if you fail to come, I shallthink—for how do I know to the contrary?—that this house, which hasremained uninhabited for twenty years, must have some gloomy traditionor dreadful legend connected with it.”

  “I will come, count,—I will be sure to come,” said Villefort eagerly.

  “Thank you,” said Monte Cristo; “now you must permit me to take my leaveof you.”

  “You said before that you were obliged to leave us, monsieur,” saidMadame de Villefort, “and you were about to tell us why when yourattention was called to some other subject.”

  “Indeed madame,” said Monte Cristo: “I scarcely know if I dare tell youwhere I am going.”

  “Nonsense; say on.”

  “Well, then, it is to see a thing on which I have sometimes mused forhours together.”

  “What is it?”

  “A telegraph. So now I have told my secret.”

  “A telegraph?” repeated Madame de Villefort.

  “Yes, a telegraph. I had often seen one placed at the end of a road on ahillock, and in the light of the sun its black arms, bending in everydirection, always reminded me of the claws of an immense beetle, and Iassure you it was never without emotion that I gazed on it, for I couldnot help thinking how wonderful it was that these various signs shouldbe made to cleave the air with such precision as to convey to thedistance of three hundred leagues the ideas and wishes of a man sittingat a table at one end of the line to another man similarly placed at theopposite extremity, and all this effected by a simple act of volition onthe part of the sender of the message. I began to think of genii,sylphs, gnomes, in short, of all the ministers of the occult sciences,until I laughed aloud at the freaks of my own imagination. Now, it neveroccurred to me to wish for a nearer inspection of these large insects,with their long black claws, for I always feared to find under theirstone wings some little human genius fagged to death with cabals,factions, and government intrigues. But one fine day I learned that themover of this telegraph was only a poor wretch, hired for twelve hundredfrancs a year, and employed all day, not in studying the heavens like anastronomer, or in gazing on the water like an angler, or even inenjoying the privilege of observing the country around him, but all hismonotonous life was passed in watching his white-bellied, black-clawedfellow insect, four or five leagues distant from him. At length I felt adesire to study this living chrysalis more closely, and to endeavor tounderstand the secret part played by these insect-actors when theyoccupy themselves simply with pulling different pieces of string.”

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  “And are you going there?”

  “I am.”

  “What telegraph do you intend visiting? that of the home department, orof the observatory?”

  “Oh, no; I should find there people who would force me to understandthings of which I would prefer to remain ignorant, and who would try toexplain to me, in spite of myself, a mystery which even they do notunderstand. Ma foi! I should wish to keep my illusions concerninginsects unimpaired; it is quite enough to have those dissipated which Ihad formed of my fellow-creatures. I shall, therefore, not visit eitherof these telegraphs, but one in the open country where I shall find agood-natured simpleton, who knows no more than the machine he isemployed to work.”

  “You are a singular man,” said Villefort.

  “What line would you advise me to study?”

  “The one that is most in use just at this time.”

  “The Spanish one, you mean, I suppose?”

  “Yes; should you like a letter to the minister that they might explainto you——”

  “No,” said Monte Cristo; “since, as I told you before, I do not wish tocomprehend it. The moment I understand it there will no longer exist atelegraph for me; it will be nothing more than a sign from M. Duchâtel,or from M. Montalivet, transmitted to the prefect of Bayonne, mystifiedby two Greek words, têle, graphein. It is the insect with black claws,and the awful word which I wish to retain in my imagination in all itspurity and all its importance.”

  “Go then; for in the course of two hours it will be dark, and you willnot be able to see anything.”

  “Ma foi! you frighten me. Which is the nearest way? Bayonne?”

  “Yes; the r