Chapter 93
Part 93
10 min read · 2,099 words
Monte Cristo shrugged his shoulders. “It seems, sir steward,” said he,
“that you have yet to learn that all things are to be sold to such as
care to pay the price.”
“His excellency is not, perhaps, aware that M. Danglars gave 16,000
francs for his horses?”
“Very well. Then offer him double that sum; a banker never loses an
opportunity of doubling his capital.”
“Is your excellency really in earnest?” inquired the steward.
Monte Cristo regarded the person who durst presume to doubt his words
with the look of one equally surprised and displeased.
“I have to pay a visit this evening,” replied he. “I desire that these
horses, with completely new harness, may be at the door with my
carriage.”
Bertuccio bowed, and was about to retire; but when he reached the door,
he paused, and then said, “At what o’clock does your excellency wish
the carriage and horses to be ready?”
“At five o’clock,” replied the count.
“I beg your excellency’s pardon,” interposed the steward in a
deprecating manner, “for venturing to observe that it is already two
o’clock.”
“I am perfectly aware of that fact,” answered Monte Cristo calmly.
Then, turning towards Ali, he said, “Let all the horses in my stables
be led before the windows of your young lady, that she may select those
she prefers for her carriage. Request her also to oblige me by saying
whether it is her pleasure to dine with me; if so, let dinner be served
in her apartments. Now, leave me, and desire my valet de chambre to
come hither.”
Scarcely had Ali disappeared when the valet entered the chamber.
“Monsieur Baptistin,” said the count, “you have been in my service one
year, the time I generally give myself to judge of the merits or
demerits of those about me. You suit me very well.”
Baptistin bowed low.
“It only remains for me to know whether I also suit you?”
“Oh, your excellency!” exclaimed Baptistin eagerly.
“Listen, if you please, till I have finished speaking,” replied Monte
Cristo. “You receive 1,500 francs per annum for your services here—more
than many a brave subaltern, who continually risks his life for his
country, obtains. You live in a manner far superior to many clerks who
work ten times harder than you do for their money. Then, though
yourself a servant, you have other servants to wait upon you, take care
of your clothes, and see that your linen is duly prepared for you.
Again, you make a profit upon each article you purchase for my toilet,
amounting in the course of a year to a sum equalling your wages.”
“Nay, indeed, your excellency.”
“I am not condemning you for this, Monsieur Baptistin; but let your
profits end here. It would be long indeed ere you would find so
lucrative a post as that you have now the good fortune to fill. I
neither ill-use nor ill-treat my servants by word or action. An error I
readily forgive, but wilful negligence or forgetfulness, never. My
commands are ordinarily short, clear, and precise; and I would rather
be obliged to repeat my words twice, or even three times, than they
should be misunderstood. I am rich enough to know whatever I desire to
know, and I can promise you I am not wanting in curiosity. If, then, I
should learn that you had taken upon yourself to speak of me to anyone
favorably or unfavorably, to comment on my actions, or watch my
conduct, that very instant you would quit my service. You may now
retire. I never caution my servants a second time—remember that.”
Baptistin bowed, and was proceeding towards the door.
“I forgot to mention to you,” said the count, “that I lay yearly aside
a certain sum for each servant in my establishment; those whom I am
compelled to dismiss lose (as a matter of course) all participation in
this money, while their portion goes to the fund accumulating for those
domestics who remain with me, and among whom it will be divided at my
death. You have been in my service a year, your fund has already begun
to accumulate—let it continue to do so.”
This address, delivered in the presence of Ali, who, not understanding
one word of the language in which it was spoken, stood wholly unmoved,
produced an effect on M. Baptistin only to be conceived by such as have
occasion to study the character and disposition of French domestics.
“I assure your excellency,” said he, “that at least it shall be my
study to merit your approbation in all things, and I will take M. Ali
as my model.”
“By no means,” replied the count in the most frigid tones; “Ali has
many faults mixed with most excellent qualities. He cannot possibly
serve you as a pattern for your conduct, not being, as you are, a paid
servant, but a mere slave—a dog, who, should he fail in his duty
towards me, I should not discharge from my service, but kill.”
Baptistin opened his eyes with astonishment.
“You seem incredulous,” said Monte Cristo, who repeated to Ali in the
Arabic language what he had just been saying to Baptistin in French.
The Nubian smiled assentingly to his master’s words, then, kneeling on
one knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count. This corroboration
of the lesson he had just received put the finishing stroke to the
wonder and stupefaction of M. Baptistin. The count then motioned the
valet de chambre to retire, and to Ali to follow to his study, where
they conversed long and earnestly together. As the hand of the clock
pointed to five the count struck thrice upon his gong. When Ali was
wanted one stroke was given, two summoned Baptistin, and three
Bertuccio. The steward entered.
“My horses,” said Monte Cristo.
“They are at the door harnessed to the carriage as your excellency
desired. Does your excellency wish me to accompany him?”
“No, the coachman, Ali, and Baptistin will go.”
The count descended to the door of his mansion, and beheld his carriage
drawn by the very pair of horses he had so much admired in the morning
as the property of Danglars. As he passed them he said:
“They are extremely handsome certainly, and you have done well to
purchase them, although you were somewhat remiss not to have procured
them sooner.”
“Indeed, your excellency, I had very considerable difficulty in
obtaining them, and, as it is, they have cost an enormous price.”
“Does the sum you gave for them make the animals less beautiful,”
inquired the count, shrugging his shoulders.
“Nay, if your excellency is satisfied, it is all that I could wish.
Whither does your excellency desire to be driven?”
“To the residence of Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin.”
This conversation had passed as they stood upon the terrace, from which
a flight of stone steps led to the carriage-drive. As Bertuccio, with a
respectful bow, was moving away, the count called him back.
“I have another commission for you, M. Bertuccio,” said he; “I am
desirous of having an estate by the seaside in Normandy—for instance,
between Le Havre and Boulogne. You see I give you a wide range. It will
be absolutely necessary that the place you may select have a small
harbor, creek, or bay, into which my corvette can enter and remain at
anchor. She draws only fifteen feet. She must be kept in constant
readiness to sail immediately I think proper to give the signal. Make
the requisite inquiries for a place of this description, and when you
have met with an eligible spot, visit it, and if it possess the
advantages desired, purchase it at once in your own name. The corvette
must now, I think, be on her way to Fécamp, must she not?”
20333m
“Certainly, your excellency; I saw her put to sea the same evening we
quitted Marseilles.”
“And the yacht.”
“Was ordered to remain at Martigues.”
“’Tis well. I wish you to write from time to time to the captains in
charge of the two vessels so as to keep them on the alert.”
“And the steamboat?”
“She is at Châlons?”
“Yes.”
“The same orders for her as for the two sailing vessels.”
“Very good.”
“When you have purchased the estate I desire, I want constant relays of
horses at ten leagues apart along the northern and southern road.”
“Your excellency may depend upon me.”
The Count made a gesture of satisfaction, descended the terrace steps,
and sprang into his carriage, which was whirled along swiftly to the
banker’s house.
Danglars was engaged at that moment, presiding over a railroad
committee. But the meeting was nearly concluded when the name of his
visitor was announced. As the count’s title sounded on his ear he rose,
and addressing his colleagues, who were members of one or the other
Chamber, he said:
“Gentlemen, pardon me for leaving you so abruptly; but a most
ridiculous circumstance has occurred, which is this,—Thomson & French,
the Roman bankers, have sent to me a certain person calling himself the
Count of Monte Cristo, and have given him an unlimited credit with me.
I confess this is the drollest thing I have ever met with in the course
of my extensive foreign transactions, and you may readily suppose it
has greatly roused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to
call on the pretended count—if he were a real count he wouldn’t be so
rich. But, would you believe it, ‘He was not receiving.’ So the master
of Monte Cristo gives himself airs befitting a great millionaire or a
capricious beauty. I made inquiries, and found that the house in the
Champs-Élysées is his own property, and certainly it was very decently
kept up. But,” pursued Danglars with one of his sinister smiles, “an
order for unlimited credit calls for something like caution on the part
of the banker to whom that order is given. I am very anxious to see
this man. I suspect a hoax is intended, but the instigators of it
little knew whom they had to deal with. ‘They laugh best who laugh
last!’”
Having delivered himself of this pompous address, uttered with a degree
of energy that left the baron almost out of breath, he bowed to the
assembled party and withdrew to his drawing-room, whose sumptuous
furnishings of white and gold had caused a great sensation in the
Chaussée d’Antin. It was to this apartment he had desired his guest to
be shown, with the purpose of overwhelming him at the sight of so much
luxury. He found the count standing before some copies of Albano and
Fattore that had been passed off to the banker as originals; but which,
mere copies as they were, seemed to feel their degradation in being
brought into juxtaposition with the gaudy colors that covered the
ceiling.
The count turned round as he heard the entrance of Danglars into the
room. With a slight inclination of the head, Danglars signed to the
count to be seated, pointing significantly to a gilded armchair,
covered with white satin embroidered with gold. The count sat down.
20335m
“I have the honor, I presume, of addressing M. de Monte Cristo.”
The count bowed.
“And I of speaking to Baron Danglars, chevalier of the Legion of Honor,
and member of the Chamber of Deputies?”
Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the baron’s card.
Danglars felt the irony and compressed his lips.
“You will, I trust, excuse me, monsieur, for not calling you by your
title when I first addressed you,” he said, “but you are aware that we
are living under a popular form of government, and that I am myself a
representative of the liberties of the people.”
“So much so,” replied Monte Cristo, “that while you call yourself baron
you are not willing to call anybody else count.”
“Upon my word, monsieur,” said Danglars with affected carelessness, “I
attach no sort of value to such empty distinctions; but the fact is, I
was made baron, and also chevalier of the Legion of Honor, in return
for services rendered, but——”
“But you have discarded your titles after the example set you by
Messrs. de Montmorency and Lafayette? That was a noble example to
follow, monsieur.”
“Why,” replied Danglars, “not entirely so; with the servants,—you
understand.”
“I see; to your domestics you are ‘my lord,’ the journalists style you
‘monsieur,’ while your constituents call you ‘citizen.’ These are
distinctions very suitable under a constitutional government. I
understand perfectly.”
Alexandre Dumas — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #1184)
Comments
Loading comments…