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- Author: Alexandre Dumas
- Performer: 0140449264
Book online «The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (books to read to improve english txt) 📖». Author Alexandre Dumas
“Oh, no, monsieur,” said Villefort with a bitter smile; “it is only a loss of money which I have sustained—nothing worth mentioning, I assure you.”
“True,” said Monte Cristo, “the loss of a sum of money becomes almost immaterial with a fortune such as you possess, and to one of your philosophic 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 the more annoyed with this fate, chance, or whatever you please to call the power which has destroyed my hopes and my fortune, and may blast the prospects of my child also, as it is all occasioned by an old man relapsed into second childhood.”
“What do you say?” said the count; “900,000 francs? It is indeed a sum which might be regretted even by a philosopher. And who is the cause of all this annoyance?”
“My father, as I told you.”
“M. Noirtier? But I thought you told me he had become entirely paralyzed, 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 dictating his 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 you perceive, 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 most gracious smiles.
“What is this that M. de Villefort has been telling me?” demanded Monte Cristo “and what incomprehensible misfortune——”
“Incomprehensible is the word!” interrupted the procureur, shrugging his shoulders. “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 power of 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 beginning to speak in parables, appeared to pay no attention to the conversation, and feigned to be busily engaged in watching Edward, who was mischievously pouring some ink into the bird’s water-glass.
“My dear,” said Villefort, in answer to his wife, “you know I have never been accustomed to play the patriarch in my family, nor have I ever considered that the fate of a universe was to be decided by my nod. Nevertheless, it is necessary that my will should be respected in my family, and that the folly of an old man and the caprice of a child should not be allowed to overturn a project which I have entertained for so many years. The Baron d’Épinay was my friend, as you know, and an alliance with his son is the most suitable thing that could possibly be arranged.”
“Do you think,” said Madame de Villefort, “that Valentine is in league with him? She has always been opposed to this marriage, and I should not be at all surprised if what we have just seen and heard is nothing but the execution of a plan concerted between them.”
“Madame,” said Villefort, “believe me, a fortune of 900,000 francs is not 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 a convent.”
“Never mind,” replied Villefort; “I say that this marriage shall be consummated.”
“Notwithstanding your father’s wishes to the contrary?” said Madame de Villefort, selecting a new point of attack. “That is a serious thing.”
Monte Cristo, who pretended not to be listening, heard however, every word that was said.
“Madame,” replied Villefort “I can truly say that I have always entertained a high respect for my father, because, to the natural feeling of relationship was added the consciousness of his moral superiority. The name of father is sacred in two senses; he should be reverenced as the author of our being and as a master whom we ought to obey. But, under the present circumstances, I am justified in doubting the wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the father, vents his anger on the son. It would be ridiculous in me to regulate my conduct by such caprices. I shall still continue to preserve the same respect toward M. Noirtier; I will suffer, without complaint, the pecuniary deprivation to which he has subjected me; but I shall remain firm in my determination, and the world shall see which party has reason on his side. Consequently I shall marry my daughter to the Baron Franz d’Épinay, because I consider it would be a proper and eligible match for her to make, and, in short, because I choose to bestow my daughter’s hand on whomever I please.”
“What?” said the count, the approbation of whose eye Villefort had frequently solicited during this speech. “What? Do you say that M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry 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 your father more than any other person?”
“I believe I know M. Franz d’Épinay,” said the count; “is he not the son of 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. Noirtier to prevent his granddaughter marrying; old men are always so selfish in their 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 I only saw the ending,” said Villefort.
“Was not your father a Bonapartist?” asked Monte Cristo; “I think I remember 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’s robe, which Napoleon cast on his shoulders, only served to disguise the old man without in any degree changing him. When my father conspired, it was not for the emperor, it was against the Bourbons; for M. Noirtier possessed this peculiarity, he never projected any Utopian schemes which could never be realized, but strove for possibilities, and he applied to the realization of these possibilities the terrible theories of The Mountain,—theories that never shrank from any means that were deemed necessary to bring about the desired result.”
“Well,” said Monte Cristo, “it is just as I thought; it was politics which brought Noirtier and M. d’Épinay into personal contact. Although General d’Épinay served under Napoleon, did he not still retain royalist sentiments? And was he not the person who was assassinated one evening on leaving a Bonapartist meeting to which he had been invited on the supposition 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 de Villefort; “and it was to prevent the renewal of old feuds that M. de Villefort formed the idea of uniting in the bonds of affection the two children of these inveterate enemies.”
“It was a sublime and charitable thought,” said Monte Cristo, “and the whole world should applaud it. It would be noble to see Mademoiselle Noirtier de Villefort assuming the title of Madame Franz d’Épinay.”
Villefort shuddered and looked at Monte Cristo as if he wished to read in his countenance the real feelings which had dictated the words he had just uttered. But the count completely baffled the procureur, and prevented him from discovering anything beneath the never-varying smile he was so constantly in the habit of assuming.
“Although,” said Villefort, “it will be a serious thing for Valentine to lose her grandfather’s fortune, I do not think that M. d’Épinay will be frightened at this pecuniary loss. He will, perhaps, hold me in greater esteem than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice everything in order to keep my word with him. Besides, he knows that Valentine is rich in right of her mother, and that she will, in all probability, inherit the fortune of M. and Madame de Saint-Méran, her mother’s parents, who both 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 a month, and Valentine, after the affront she has received, need not consider it necessary to continue to bury herself alive by being shut up with M. Noirtier.”
The count listened with satisfaction to this tale of wounded self-love and defeated ambition.
“But it seems to me,” said Monte Cristo, “and I must begin by asking your pardon for what I am about to say, that if M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry a man whose father he detested, he cannot have the same cause of complaint against this dear Edward.”
“True,” said Madame de Villefort, with an intonation of voice which it is impossible to describe; “is it not unjust—shamefully unjust? Poor Edward is as much M. Noirtier’s grandchild as Valentine, and yet, if she had not been going to marry M. Franz, M. Noirtier would have left her all his money; and supposing Valentine to be disinherited by her grandfather, 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 our family misfortunes. It is true that my patrimony will go to endow charitable institutions, and my father will have deprived me of my lawful inheritance without any reason for doing so, but I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have acted like a man of sense and feeling. 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 which incessantly occupied her mind, “perhaps it would be better to explain this unlucky affair to M. d’Épinay, in order to give him the opportunity of himself renouncing his claim to the hand of Mademoiselle de Villefort.”
“Ah, that would be a great pity,” said Villefort.
“A great pity,” said Monte Cristo.
“Undoubtedly,” said Villefort, moderating the tones of his voice, “a marriage once concerted and then broken off, throws a sort of discredit on a young lady; then again, the old reports, which I was so anxious to put 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 than ever pledged to Mademoiselle de Villefort, unless he were actuated by a decided feeling of avarice, but that is impossible.”
“I agree with M. de Villefort,” said Monte Cristo, fixing his eyes on Madame de Villefort; “and if I were sufficiently intimate with him to allow of giving my advice, I would persuade him, since I have been told M. d’Épinay is coming back, to settle this affair at once beyond all possibility of revocation. I will answer for the success of a project which will reflect so much honor on M. de Villefort.”
The procureur arose, delighted with the proposition, but
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