第194章
- The Count of Monte Cristo
- Alexandre Dumas
- 4119字
- 2016-03-03 16:31:27
"Father," said the young man, "I have the honor of presenting to you the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous friend whom I had the good fortune to meet in the critical situation of which I have told you.""You are most welcome, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, saluting Monte Cristo with a smile, "and monsieur has rendered our house, in preserving its only heir, a service which insures him our eternal gratitude." As he said these words, the count of Morcerf pointed to a chair, while he seated himself in another opposite the window.
Monte Cristo, in taking the seat Morcerf offered him, placed himself in such a manner as to remain concealed in the shadow of the large velvet curtains, and read on the careworn and livid features of the count a whole history of secret griefs written in each wrinkle time had planted there."The countess," said Morcerf, "was at her toilet when she was informed of the visit she was about to receive.She will, however, be in the salon in ten minutes.""It is a great honor to me," returned Monte Cristo, "to be thus, on the first day of my arrival in Paris, brought in contact with a man whose merit equals his reputation, and to whom fortune has for once been equitable, but has she not still on the plains of Metidja, or in the mountains of Atlas, a marshal's staff to offer you?""Oh," replied Morcerf, reddening slightly, "I have left the service, monsieur.Made a peer at the Restoration, I served through the first campaign under the orders of Marshal Bourmont.I could, therefore, expect a higher rank, and who knows what might have happened had the elder branch remained on the throne? But the Revolution of July was, it seems, sufficiently glorious to allow itself to be ungrateful, and it was so for all services that did not date from the imperial period.I tendered my resignation, for when you have gained your epaulets on the battle-field, you do not know how to manoeuvre on the slippery grounds of the salons.
I have hung up my sword, and cast myself into politics.Ihave devoted myself to industry; I study the useful arts.
During the twenty years I served, I often wished to do so, but I had not the time.""These are the ideas that render your nation superior to any other," returned Monte Cristo."A gentleman of high birth, possessor of an ample fortune, you have consented to gain your promotion as an obscure soldier, step by step -- this is uncommon; then become general, peer of France, commander of the Legion of Honor, you consent to again commence a second apprenticeship, without any other hope or any other desire than that of one day becoming useful to your fellow-creatures; this, indeed, is praiseworthy, -- nay, more, it is sublime." Albert looked on and listened with astonishment; he was not used to see Monte Cristo give vent to such bursts of enthusiasm."Alas," continued the stranger, doubtless to dispel the slight cloud that covered Morcerf's brow, "we do not act thus in Italy; we grow according to our race and our species, and we pursue the same lines, and often the same uselessness, all our lives.""But, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, "for a man of your merit, Italy is not a country, and France opens her arms to receive you; respond to her call.France will not, perhaps, be always ungrateful.She treats her children ill, but she always welcomes strangers.""Ah, father," said Albert with a smile, "it is evident you do not know the Count of Monte Cristo; he despises all honors, and contents himself with those written on his passport.""That is the most just remark," replied the stranger, "Iever heard made concerning myself."
"You have been free to choose your career," observed the Count of Morcerf, with a sigh; "and you have chosen the path strewed with flowers.""Precisely, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo with one of those smiles that a painter could never represent or a physiologist analyze.
"If I did not fear to fatigue you," said the general, evidently charmed with the count's manners, "I would have taken you to the Chamber; there is a debate very curious to those who are strangers to our modern senators.""I shall be most grateful, monsieur, if you will, at some future time, renew your offer, but I have been flattered with the hope of being introduced to the countess, and Iwill therefore wait."
"Ah, here is my mother," cried the viscount.Monte Cristo, turned round hastily, and saw Madame de Morcerf at the entrance of the salon, at the door opposite to that by which her husband had entered, pale and motionless; when Monte Cristo turned round, she let fall her arm, which for some unknown reason had been resting on the gilded door-post.She had been there some moments, and had heard the last words of the visitor.The latter rose and bowed to the countess, who inclined herself without speaking."Ah, good heavens, madame," said the count, "are you ill, or is it the heat of the room that affects you?""Are you ill, mother?" cried the viscount, springing towards her.