Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," replied `
` Chateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse was `
` dead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. I `
` shot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with my `
` pistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left; `
` one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so `
` short, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung a `
` yataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, when `
` this gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the one `
` who held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the other `
` with his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving a `
` man's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself. `
` When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann `
` or Marochetti." `
` `
` "Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September, `
` the anniversary of the day on which my father was `
` miraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in my `
` power, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" -- `
` `
` "Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen. `
` But that is not all -- after rescuing me from the sword, he `
` rescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me, `
` like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then from `
` hunger by sharing with me -- guess what?" `
` `
` "A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with a `
` hearty appetite. It was very hard." `
` `
` "The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing. `
` `
` "No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray if `
` he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" `
` `
` "Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend I `
` might, perhaps." `
` `
` "I divined that you would become mine, count," replied `
` Morrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism or `
` not, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to bad `
` fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on `
` other days granted to us." `
` `
` "The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued `
` Chateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you `
` some day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day let `
` us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you `
` breakfast, Albert?" `
` `
` "At half-past ten." `
` `
` "Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch. `
` `
` "Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf, `
` "for I also expect a preserver." `
` `
` "Of whom?" `
` `
` "Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannot `
` be saved as well as any one else, and that there are only `
` Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic `
` one, and we shall have at table -- at least, I hope so -- `
` two benefactors of humanity." `
` `
` "What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyon `
` prize." `
` `
` "Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to `
` deserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academy `
` mostly escapes from the dilemma." `
` `
` "And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You have `
` already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I `
` venture to put it a second time." `
` `
` "Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited him `
` three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time `
` who knows where he may have gone?" `
` `
` "And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. `
` `
` "I think him capable of everything." `
` `
` "Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left." `
` `
` "I will profit by them to tell you something about my `
` guest." `
` `
` "I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there any `
` materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" `
` `
` "Yes, and for a most curious one." `
` `
` "Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this `
` morning, and I must make up for it." `
` `
` "I was at Rome during the last Carnival." `
` `
` "We know that," said Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by `
` bandits." `
` `
` "There are no bandits," cried Debray. `
` `
` "Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable `
` ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me." `
` `
` "Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cook `
` is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend `
` or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are `
` going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are `
` sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your `
` history, fabulous as it promises to be." `
` `
` "And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a `
` true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me `
` off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs `
` of Saint Sebastian." `
` `
` "I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escaped `
` catching a fever there." `
` `
` "And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caught `
` one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum `
` of 4,000 Roman crowns -- about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, `
` I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of `
` my credit. I wrote to Franz -- and were he here he would `
` confirm every word -- I wrote then to Franz that if he did `
` not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten `
` minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints `
` and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of `
` being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the `
` chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his `
` word." `
` `
` "But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," said `
` Chateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or `
` Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring `
` them." `
` `
` "No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going `
` to present to you." `
` `
` "Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus `
` freeing Andromeda." `
` `
` "No, he is a man about my own size." `
` `
` "Armed to the teeth?" `
` `
` "He had not even a knitting-needle." `
` `
` "But he paid your ransom?" `
` `
` "He said two words to the chief and I was free." `
` `
` "And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" `
` said Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Just so." `
` `
` "Why, he is a second Ariosto." `
` `
` "No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo." `
` `
` "There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. `
` `
` "I do not think so," added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of a `
` man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. `
` `
` "Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" `
` `
` "He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his `
` ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead `
` Sea." `
` `
` "I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian. `
` "Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken `
` of by the old sailors my father employed -- a grain of sand `
` in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the `
` infinite." `
` `
` "Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is the `
` lord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he has `
` purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." `
` `
` "He is rich, then?" `
` `
` "I believe so." `
` `
` "But that ought to be visible." `
` `
` "That is what deceives you, Debray." `
` `
` "I do not understand you." `
` `
` "Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?" `
` `
`
` Chateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse was `
` dead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. I `
` shot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with my `
` pistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left; `
` one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so `
` short, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung a `
` yataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, when `
` this gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the one `
` who held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the other `
` with his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving a `
` man's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself. `
` When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann `
` or Marochetti." `
` `
` "Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September, `
` the anniversary of the day on which my father was `
` miraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in my `
` power, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" -- `
` `
` "Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen. `
` But that is not all -- after rescuing me from the sword, he `
` rescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me, `
` like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then from `
` hunger by sharing with me -- guess what?" `
` `
` "A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. `
` `
` "No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with a `
` hearty appetite. It was very hard." `
` `
` "The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing. `
` `
` "No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray if `
` he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" `
` `
` "Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend I `
` might, perhaps." `
` `
` "I divined that you would become mine, count," replied `
` Morrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism or `
` not, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to bad `
` fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on `
` other days granted to us." `
` `
` "The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued `
` Chateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you `
` some day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day let `
` us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you `
` breakfast, Albert?" `
` `
` "At half-past ten." `
` `
` "Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch. `
` `
` "Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf, `
` "for I also expect a preserver." `
` `
` "Of whom?" `
` `
` "Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannot `
` be saved as well as any one else, and that there are only `
` Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic `
` one, and we shall have at table -- at least, I hope so -- `
` two benefactors of humanity." `
` `
` "What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyon `
` prize." `
` `
` "Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to `
` deserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academy `
` mostly escapes from the dilemma." `
` `
` "And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You have `
` already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I `
` venture to put it a second time." `
` `
` "Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited him `
` three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time `
` who knows where he may have gone?" `
` `
` "And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. `
` `
` "I think him capable of everything." `
` `
` "Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left." `
` `
` "I will profit by them to tell you something about my `
` guest." `
` `
` "I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there any `
` materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" `
` `
` "Yes, and for a most curious one." `
` `
` "Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this `
` morning, and I must make up for it." `
` `
` "I was at Rome during the last Carnival." `
` `
` "We know that," said Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by `
` bandits." `
` `
` "There are no bandits," cried Debray. `
` `
` "Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable `
` ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me." `
` `
` "Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cook `
` is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend `
` or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are `
` going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are `
` sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your `
` history, fabulous as it promises to be." `
` `
` "And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a `
` true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me `
` off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs `
` of Saint Sebastian." `
` `
` "I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escaped `
` catching a fever there." `
` `
` "And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caught `
` one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum `
` of 4,000 Roman crowns -- about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, `
` I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of `
` my credit. I wrote to Franz -- and were he here he would `
` confirm every word -- I wrote then to Franz that if he did `
` not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten `
` minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints `
` and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of `
` being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the `
` chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his `
` word." `
` `
` "But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," said `
` Chateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or `
` Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring `
` them." `
` `
` "No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going `
` to present to you." `
` `
` "Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus `
` freeing Andromeda." `
` `
` "No, he is a man about my own size." `
` `
` "Armed to the teeth?" `
` `
` "He had not even a knitting-needle." `
` `
` "But he paid your ransom?" `
` `
` "He said two words to the chief and I was free." `
` `
` "And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" `
` said Beauchamp. `
` `
` "Just so." `
` `
` "Why, he is a second Ariosto." `
` `
` "No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo." `
` `
` "There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. `
` `
` "I do not think so," added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of a `
` man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. `
` `
` "Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" `
` `
` "He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his `
` ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead `
` Sea." `
` `
` "I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian. `
` "Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken `
` of by the old sailors my father employed -- a grain of sand `
` in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the `
` infinite." `
` `
` "Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is the `
` lord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he has `
` purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." `
` `
` "He is rich, then?" `
` `
` "I believe so." `
` `
` "But that ought to be visible." `
` `
` "That is what deceives you, Debray." `
` `
` "I do not understand you." `
` `
` "Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?" `
` `
`