009 - The Count of Monte Cristo - The Evening of the Betrothal

Episode Transcript

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Chapter nine of the Count of MonteCristo by Alexandre Dumain. This LibriVox recording
is in the public domain. Chapternine, the evening of the betrothal,
Villefort had, as we have said, hastened back to Madame de Saint Meran's
in the Place du grand Cours,and on entering the house, found that

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the guests whom he had left attable were taking coffee in the salon.
Renee was, with all the restof the company anxiously awaiting him, and
his entrance was followed by a generalexclamation. Well, dicapitato, guardian of
the state, royalist brutus, Whatis the matter? Said one? Speak
out? Oh, he threatened,with a first grain of terror, asked

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another, as the cosican ogre broconLUs cried a third marquise, said Villefort,
approaching his future mother in law,I request your pardon for thus leaving
you will the marquise enemy by afew moments private conversation. Ah, it
is a really serious matter, thenasked the marquis, remarking the cloud on

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Villefort's brow so serious that I musttake leave of you for a few days.
So added he, turning to Renee, judge for yourself. If it
be not important, you are notgoing to leave us, cried Renee,
unable to hide her emotion at thisunexpected announcement. Alas returned Villefort. I

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must where then are you going?Asked the Marquise, that, Madam is
an official secret. But if youhave any commissions for Paris, a friend
of mine is going there to night, and will with pleasure undertake them.
The guests looked at each other.You wish to speak to me alone,

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said the Marquis. Yes, letus go to the library. Please.
The Marquis took his arm and theyleft the salon well, asked he,
as soon as they were by themselves, tell me what it is? An
affair of the greatest importance that demandsmy immediate presence in Paris. Now excuse

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the indiscretion, marquis, but haveyou any landed property? All my fortune
is in the funds seven or eighthundred thousand francs. Then sell out,
sell out, Marquis, or youwill lose it all. How can I
sell out here? You have abroker, have you not? Yes?

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Then give me a letter to himand tell him to sell out without an
instant's delay, perhaps even now Ishall arrive too late. The deuce,
you say, replied the Marquis.Let us lose no time. Then,
and sitting down, he wrote aletter to his broker ordering him to sell
out at the market price. Now, then, said Villefort, placing the

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letter in his pocket book, Imust have another to whom to the King.
To the King, yes, Idare not write to his majesty.
I do not ask you to writeto his majesty, but ask Monsieur de
Salvieux to do so. I wanta letter that will enable me to reach
the King's presence, without all theformalities of demanding an audience that would occasion

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a loss of precious time. Butaddress yourself to the Keeper of the seals.
He has the right of entry atthe tuiery and can procure your audience
at any hour of the day ornight, doubtless, But there is no
occasion to divide the honors of mydiscovery with him. The Keeper would leave

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me in the background and take allthe glory to himself. I tell you,
Marquis, my forctune is made ifI only reach the tuiery the first,
for the King will not forget theservice I do him. In that
case, go and get ready.I will call Salvieux and make him write
the letter. Be as quick aspossible. I must be on the road

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in quarter of an hour. Tellyour coachman to stop at the door.
You will present my excuses to theMarquise and Mademoiselle Renee, whom I leave
on such a day with great regret. You will find them both here and
can make your farewells in person.A thousand thanks, and now for the

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letter the Marquis rang a servant entered, say to the Comte de Salvieux that
I would like to see him now. Then go, said the Marquis.
I shall be gone only a fewmoments. Villfort hastily quitted the apartment,
but reflecting that the sight of thedeputy Procureur running through the streets would be

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enough to throw the whole city intoconfusion, he resumed his ordinary pace.
At his door, he perceived afigure in the shadow that seemed to wait
for him. It was Mercedes,who, hearing no news of her lover,
had come unobserved to inquire after him. As Villefort drew near, she

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advanced and stood before him. Danteshad spoken of Mercedes, and Villefort instantly
recognized her. Her beauty and highbearing surprised him, and when she inquired
what had become of her lover,it seemed to him that she was the
judge and he the accused. Theyoung man you speak of, said Villefort

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abruptly, is a great criminal,and I can do nothing for him.
Mademoiselle Mercedes burst into tears, andas Villefort strove to pass her again,
addressed him. But at least totell me where he is, that I
may know whether he is alive ordead, said she. I do not

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know. He is no longer inmy hands, replied Villefort, and,
desirous of putting an end to theinterview, he pushed by her and closed
the door, as if to excludethe pain he felt. But remorse is
not thus banished. Like Virgil's woundedhero, he carried the arrow in his
wound and arrived at the salon.Villefard uttered a sigh that was almost a

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sob, and sank into a chair. Then the first pangs of an unending
torture seized upon his heart. Theman he sacrificed to his ambition, that
innocent victim immolated on the altar ofhis father's faults appeared to him, pale
and threatening, leading his affianced brideby the hand, and bringing with him

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remorse, not such as the ancientsfigured, furious and terrible, but that
slow and consuming agony, whose pangsare intensified from hour to hour up to
the very moment of death. Thenhe had a moment's hesitation. He had
frequently called for capital punishment on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence,

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they have been condemned, and yetthe slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded
Villefort's brow, because they were guilty, at least he believed so. But
here was an innocent man whose happinesshe had destroyed. In this case,
he was not the judge but theexecutioner. As he thus reflected, he

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felt the sensation we have described,and which had hitherto been unknown to him,
arise in his bosom and fill himwith vague apprehensions. It is thus
that a wounded man trembles instinctively atthe approach of the finger to his wound
until it be healed. But Villefortwas one of those that never close,
or if they do, only closeto reopen, more agonizing than ever.

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If at this moment the sweet voiceof Renee had sounded in his ears,
pleading for mercy, or the fairMercedes had entered and said, in the
nim of God, I conjure youto restore my affianced husband. His cold
and trembling hands would have signed hisrelease, but no voice broke the stillness
of the chamber, and the doorwas opened only by Villefort's valet, who

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came to tell him that the travelingcarriage was in readiness. Villefort arose,
or rather sprang from his chair,hastily opened one of the doors of his
desk, emptied all the gold itcontained into his pocket, stood motionless an
instant, his hand pressed to hishead, muttered a few inarticulate sounds,
and then, perceiving that his servanthad placed his cloak on his shoulders,

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he sprang into the carriage, orderingthe postilions to drive to Monsieur de Saint
Meran's. The hapless Dante was doomed, as the marquis had promised. Villefort
found the Marquise and Renee in waiting. He started when he saw Renee,
for he fancied she was again aboutto plead for Dantes, alas her emotions

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were wholly personal. She was thinkingonly of Villefort's departure. She loved Villefort,
and he left her at the momenthe was about to become her husband.
Villefort knew not when he should return, and Renee, far from pleading
for Dantes, hated the man whosecrime separated her from her lover. Meanwhile,

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what of Mercedes. She had metFernand at the corner of the Rue
de la Loge. She had returnedto the Catalans and had despairingly cast herself
on her couch. Fernand, kneelingby her side, took her hand and
covered it with kisses that Mercedes didnot even feel. She passed the night.
Thus the lamp went out for wantof oil, but she paid no

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heed to the darkness. And dawncame, but she knew not that it
was day. Grief had made herblind all but one object. That was
Edmond. Ah, you are there, she said at length, turning towards
Fernand. I have not quitted yousince yesterday, returned Fernand sorrowfully. Monsieur

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Morrel had not readily given up thefight. He'd learned that Dantes had been
taken to prison, and he hadgone to all his friends and the influential
persons of the city, but thereport was already in circulation that Dantes was
arrested as a bonapartist agent, andas the most sanguine, looked upon any

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attempt of Napoleon to remount the throneas impossible. He met nothing but refusal,
and had returned home in despair,declaring that the matter was serious and
that nothing more could be done.Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy, but
instead of seeking, like Monsieur Morrel, to aid Dantes, he had shut

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himself up with two bottles of blackcurrant brandy in the hope of drowning reflection.
But he did not succeed, andbecame too intoxicated to fetch any more
drink, and yet not so intoxicatedas to forget what had happened. With
his elbows on the table, hesat between the two empty bottles while specters

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danced in the light of the unsnuffedcandle. Specters such as Hoffmann, strews
over his punch drenched pages like blackfantastic dust Doglars Alone was content and joyous.
He had got rid of an enemyand made his own situation on the
pharaoh and secure Doanglars was one ofthose men born with a pen behind the

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ear and an inkstand in place ofa heart. Everything with him was multiplication
or subtraction. The life of aman was to him of far less value
than a numeral, especially when bytaking it away he could incre least the
sum total of his own desires.He went to bed at his usual hour
and slept in peace Villefort. Afterhaving received Monsieur de Salvioux's letter, embraced

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Renee, kissed the Marquise's hand,and shaken that of the Marquis, started
for Paris along the Aix road.Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know
what had become of Edmond. Butwe know very well what had become of
Edmond. End of Chapter nine