Chapter 45 The Rain of Blood
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"AS
THE JEWELLER returned to the apartment, he cast around him a scrutinizing
glance--but there was nothing to excite suspicion, if it did not exist, or
to confirm it, if it were already awakened. Caderousse's hands still
grasped the gold and bank-notes, and La Carconte called up her sweetest
smiles while welcoming the reappearance of their guest. 'Well, well,' said
the jeweller, 'you seem, my good friends, to have had some fears
respecting the accuracy of your money, by counting it over so carefully
directly I was gone.'--'Oh, no,' answered Caderousse, 'that was not my
reason, I can assure you; but the circumstances by which we have become
possessed of this wealth are so unexpected, as to make us scarcely credit
our good fortune, and it is only by placing the actual proof of our riches
before our eyes that we can persuade ourselves that the whole affair is
not a dream.' The jeweller smiled.--'Have you any other guests in your
house?' inquired he.--'Nobody but ourselves,' replied Caderousse; 'the
fact is, we do not lodge travellers--indeed, our tavern is so near the
town, that nobody would think of stopping here.--'Then I am afraid I shall
very much inconvenience you.'--'Inconvenience us? Not at all, my dear
sir,' said La Carconte in her most gracious manner. 'Not at all, I assure
you.'--'But where will you manage to stow me?'--'In the chamber
overhead.'--'Surely that is where you yourselves sleep?'--'Never mind
that; we have a second bed in the adjoining room.' Caderousse stared at
his wife with much astonishment. "The
jeweller, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood warming his back at
the fire La Carconte had kindled to dry the wet garments of her guest; and
this done, she next occupied herself in arranging his supper, by spreading
a napkin at the end of the table, and placing on it the slender remains of
their dinner, to which she added three or four fresh-laid eggs. Caderousse
had once more parted with his treasure--the banknotes were replaced in the
pocket-book, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole carefully
locked in the cupboard. He then began pacing the room with a pensive and
gloomy air, glancing from time to time at the jeweller, who stood reeking
with the steam from his wet clothes, and merely changing his place on the
warm hearth, to enable the whole of his garments to be dried. "'There,'
said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine on the table, 'supper is
ready whenever you are.'--'And you?' asked Joannes.--'I don't want any
supper,' said Caderousse.--'We dined so very late,' hastily interposed La
Carconte.--'Then it seems I am to eat alone,' remarked the jeweller.--'Oh,
we shall have the pleasure of waiting upon you,' answered La Carconte,
with an eager attention she was not accustomed to manifest even to guests
who paid for what they took. "From
time to time Caderousse darted on his wife keen, searching glances, but
rapid as the lightning flash. The storm still continued. 'There, there,'
said La Carconte; 'do you hear that? upon my word, you did well to come
back.'--'Nevertheless,' replied the jeweller, 'if by the time I have
finished my supper the tempest has at all abated, I shall make another
start.'--'It's the mistral,' said Caderousse, 'and it will be sure to last
till to-morrow morning.' He sighed heavily.--'Well,' said the jeweller, as
he placed himself at table, 'all I can say is, so much the worse for those
who are abroad.'--'Yes,' chimed in La Carconte, 'they will have a wretched
night of it.' "The
jeweller began eating his supper, and the woman, who was ordinarily so
querulous and indifferent to all who approached her, was suddenly
transformed into the most smiling and attentive hostess. Had the unhappy
man on whom she lavished her assiduities been previously acquainted with
her, so sudden an alteration might well have excited suspicion in his
mind, or at least have greatly astonished him. Caderousse, meanwhile,
continued to pace the room in gloomy silence, sedulously avoiding the
sight of his guest; but as soon as the stranger had completed his repast,
the agitated inn-keeper went eagerly to the door and opened it. 'I believe
the storm is over,' said he. But as if to contradict his statement, at
that instant a violent clap of thunder seemed to shake the house to its
very foundation, while a sudden gust of wind, mingled with rain,
extinguished the lamp he held in his hand. Trembling and awe-struck,
Caderousse hastily shut the door and returned to his guest, while La
Carconte lighted a candle by the smouldering ashes that glimmered on the
hearth. 'You must be tired,' said she to the jeweller; 'I have spread a
pair of white sheets on your bed; go up when you are ready, and sleep
well.' "Joannes
stayed for a while to see whether the storm seemed to abate in its fury,
but a brief space of time sufficed to assure him that, instead of
diminishing, the violence of the rain and thunder momentarily increased;
resigning himself, therefore, to what seemed inevitable, he bade his host
good-night, and mounted the stairs. He passed over my head and I heard the
flooring creak beneath his footsteps. The quick, eager glance of La
Carconte followed him as he ascended, while Caderousse, on the contrary,
turned his back, and seemed most anxiously to avoid even glancing at him. "All
these circumstances did not strike me as painfully at the time as they
have since done; in fact, all that had happened (with the exception of the
story of the diamond, which certainly did wear an air of improbability),
appeared natural enough, and called for neither apprehension nor mistrust;
but, worn out as I was with fatigue, and fully purposing to proceed
onwards directly the tempest abated, I determined to obtain a few hours'
sleep. Overhead I could accurately distinguish every movement of the
jeweller, who, after making the best arrangements in his power for passing
a comfortable night, threw himself on his bed, and I could hear it creak
and groan beneath his weight. Insensibly my eyelids grew heavy, deep sleep
stole over me, and having no suspicion of anything wrong, I sought not to
shake it off. I looked into the kitchen once more and saw Caderousse
sitting by the side of a long table upon one of the low wooden stools
which in country places are frequently used instead of chairs; his back
was turned towards me, so that I could not see the expression of his
countenance--neither should I have been able to do so had he been placed
differently, as his head was buried between his two hands. La Carconte
continued to gaze on him for some time, then shrugging her shoulders, she
took her seat immediately opposite to him. At this moment the expiring
embers threw up a fresh flame from the kindling of a piece of wood that
lay near, and a bright light flashed over the room. La Carconte still kept
her eyes fixed on her husband, but as he made no sign of changing his
position, she extended her hard, bony hand, and touched him on the
forehead. "Caderousse
shuddered. The woman's lips seemed to move, as though she were talking;
but because she merely spoke in an undertone, or my senses were dulled by
sleep, I did not catch a word she uttered. Confused sights and sounds
seemed to float before me, and gradually I fell into a deep, heavy
slumber. How long I had been in this unconscious state I know not, when I
was suddenly aroused by the report of a pistol, followed by a fearful cry.
Weak and tottering footsteps resounded across the chamber above me, and
the next instant a dull, heavy weight seemed to fall powerless on the
staircase. I had not yet fully recovered consciousness, when again I heard
groans, mingled with half-stifled cries, as if from persons engaged in a
deadly struggle. A cry more prolonged than the others and ending in a
series of groans effectually roused me from my drowsy lethargy. Hastily
raising myself on one arm, I looked around, but all was dark; and it
seemed to me as if the rain must have penetrated through the flooring of
the room above, for some kind of moisture appeared to fall, drop by drop,
upon my forehead, and when I passed my hand across my brow, I felt that it
was wet and clammy. "To
the fearful noises that had awakened me had succeeded the most perfect
silence--unbroken, save by the footsteps of a man walking about in the
chamber above. The staircase creaked, he descended into the room below,
approached the fire and lit a candle. The man was Caderousse--he was pale
and his shirt was all blood. Having obtained the light, he hurried
up-stairs again, and once more I heard his rapid and uneasy footsteps. A
moment later he came down again, holding in his hand the small shagreen
case, which he opened, to assure himself it contained the diamond,--seemed
to hesitate as to which pocket he should put it in, then, as if
dissatisfied with the security of either pocket, he deposited it in his
red handkerchief, which he carefully rolled round his head. After this he
took from his cupboard the bank-notes and gold he had put there, thrust
the one into the pocket of his trousers, and the other into that of his
waistcoat, hastily tied up a small bundle of linen, and rushing towards
the door, disappeared in the darkness of the night. "Then
all became clear and manifest to me, and I reproached myself with what had
happened, as though I myself had done the guilty deed. I fancied that I
still heard faint moans, and imagining that the unfortunate jeweller might
not be quite dead, I determined to go to his relief, by way of atoning in
some slight degree, not for the crime I had committed, but for that which
I had not endeavored to prevent. For this purpose I applied all the
strength I possessed to force an entrance from the cramped spot in which I
lay to the adjoining room. The poorly fastened boards which alone divided
me from it yielded to my efforts, and I found myself in the house. Hastily
snatching up the lighted candle, I hurried to the staircase; about midway
a body was lying quite across the stairs. It was that of La Carconte. The
pistol I had heard had doubtless been fired at her. The shot had
frightfully lacerated her throat, leaving two gaping wounds from which, as
well as the mouth, the blood was pouring in floods. She was stone dead. I
strode past her, and ascended to the sleeping chamber, which presented an
appearance of the wildest disorder. The furniture had been knocked over in
the deadly struggle that had taken place there, and the sheets, to which
the unfortunate jeweller had doubtless clung, were dragged across the
room. The murdered man lay on the floor, his head leaning against the
wall, and about him was a pool of blood which poured forth from three
large wounds in his breast; there was a fourth gash, in which a long table
knife was plunged up to the handle. "I
stumbled over some object; I stooped to examine--it was the second pistol,
which had not gone off, probably from the powder being wet. I approached
the jeweller, who was not quite dead, and at the sound of my footsteps and
the creaking of the floor, he opened his eyes, fixed them on me with an
anxious and inquiring gaze, moved his lips as though trying to speak,
then, overcome by the effort, fell back and expired. This appalling sight
almost bereft me of my senses, and finding that I could no longer be of
service to any one in the house, my only desire was to fly. I rushed
towards the staircase, clutching my hair, and uttering a groan of horror.
Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six custom-house officers,
and two or three gendarmes--all heavily armed. They threw themselves upon
me. I made no resistance; I was no longer master of my senses. When I
strove to speak, a few inarticulate sounds alone escaped my lips. "As
I noticed the significant manner in which the whole party pointed to my
blood-stained garments, I involuntarily surveyed myself, and then I
discovered that the thick warm drops that had so bedewed me as I lay
beneath the staircase must have been the blood of La Carconte. I pointed
to the spot where I had concealed myself. 'What does he mean?' asked a
gendarme. One of the officers went to the place I directed. 'He means,'
replied the man upon his return, 'that he got in that way;' and he showed
the hole I had made when I broke through. "Then
I saw that they took me for the assassin. I recovered force and energy
enough to free myself from the hands of those who held me, while I managed
to stammer forth--'I did not do it! Indeed, indeed I did not!' A couple of
gendarmes held the muzzles of their carbines against my breast.--'Stir but
a step,' said they, 'and you are a dead man.'--'Why should you threaten me
with death,' cried I, 'when I have already declared my innocence?'--'Tush,
tush,' cried the men; 'keep your innocent stories to tell to the judge at
N?mes. Meanwhile, come along with us; and the best advice we can give you
is to do so unresistingly.' Alas, resistance was far from my thoughts. I
was utterly overpowered by surprise and terror; and without a word I
suffered myself to be handcuffed and tied to a horse's tail, and thus they
took me to N?mes. "I
had been tracked by a customs-officer, who had lost sight of me near the
tavern; feeling certain that I intended to pass the night there, he had
returned to summon his comrades, who just arrived in time to hear the
report of the pistol, and to take me in the midst of such circumstantial
proofs of my guilt as rendered all hopes of proving my innocence utterly
futile. One only chance was left me, that of beseeching the magistrate
before whom I was taken to cause every inquiry to be made for the Abbиж Busoni, who had stopped at the inn of the Pont du
Gard on that morning. If Caderousse had invented the story relative to the
diamond, and there existed no such person as the Abbиж Busoni, then, indeed, I was lost
past redemption, or, at least, my life hung upon the feeble chance of
Caderousse himself being apprehended and confessing the whole truth. Two
months passed away in hopeless expectation on my part, while I must do the
magistrate the justice to say that he used every means to obtain
information of the person I declared could exculpate me if he would.
Caderousse still evaded all pursuit, and I had resigned myself to what
seemed my inevitable fate. My trial was to come on at the approaching
assizes; when, on the 8th of September--that is to say, precisely three
months and five days after the events which had perilled my life--the Abbиж
Busoni, whom I never ventured to believe I should see, presented himself
at the prison doors, saying he understood one of the prisoners wished to
speak to him; he added, that having learned at Marseilles the particulars
of my imprisonment, he hastened to comply with my desire. You may easily
imagine with what eagerness I welcomed him, and how minutely I related the
whole of what I had seen and heard. I felt some degree of nervousness as I
entered upon the history of the diamond, but, to my inexpressible
astonishment, he confirmed it in every particular, and to my equal
surprise, he seemed to place entire belief in all I said. And then it was
that, won by his mild charity, seeing that he was acquainted with all the
habits and customs of my own country, and considering also that pardon for
the only crime of which I was really guilty might come with a double power
from lips so benevolent and kind, I besought him to receive my confession,
under the seal of which I recounted the Auteuil affair in all its details,
as well as every other transaction of my life. That which I had done by
the impulse of my best feelings produced the same effect as though it had
been the result of calculation. My voluntary confession of the
assassination at Auteuil proved to him that I had not committed that of
which I stood accused. When he quitted me, he bade me be of good courage,
and to rely upon his doing all in his power to convince my judges of my
innocence. "I
had speedy proofs that the excellent abbиж was engaged in my behalf, for the rigors of my
imprisonment were alleviated by many trifling though acceptable
indulgences, and I was told that my trial was to be postponed to the
assizes following those now being held. In the interim it pleased
providence to cause the apprehension of Caderousse, who was discovered in
some distant country, and brought back to France, where he made a full
confession, refusing to make the fact of his wife's having suggested and
arranged the murder any excuse for his own guilt. The wretched man was
sentenced to the galleys for life, and I was immediately set at
liberty." "And
then it was, I presume," said Monte Cristo "that you came to me
as the bearer of a letter from the Abbиж Busoni?" "It
was, your excellency; the benevolent abbиж took an evident interest in all that concerned me. "'Your
mode of life as a smuggler,' said he to me one day, 'will be the ruin of
you; if you get out, don't take it up again.'--'But how,' inquired I, 'am
I to maintain myself and my poor sister?' "'A
person, whose confessor I am,' replied he, 'and who entertains a high
regard for me, applied to me a short time since to procure him a
confidential servant. Would you like such a post? If so, I will give you a
letter of introduction to him.'--'Oh, father,' I exclaimed, 'you are very
good.' "'But
you must swear solemnly that I shall never have reason to repent my
recommendation.' I extended my hand, and was about to pledge myself by any
promise he would dictate, but he stopped me. 'It is unnecessary for you to
bind yourself by any vow,' said he; 'I know and admire the Corsican nature
too well to fear you. Here, take this,' continued he, after rapidly
writing the few lines I brought to your excellency, and upon receipt of
which you deigned to receive me into your service, and proudly I ask
whether your excellency has ever had cause to repent having done so?"
"No,"
replied the count; "I take pleasure in saying that you have served me
faithfully, Bertuccio; but you might have shown more confidence in
me." "I,
your excellency?" "Yes;
you. How comes it, that having both a sister and an adopted son, you have
never spoken to me of either?" "Alas,
I have still to recount the most distressing period of my life. Anxious as
you may suppose I was to behold and comfort my dear sister, I lost no time
in hastening to Corsica, but when I arrived at Rogliano I found a house of
mourning, the consequences of a scene so horrible that the neighbors
remember and speak of it to this day. Acting by my advice, my poor sister
had refused to comply with the unreasonable demands of Benedetto, who was
continually tormenting her for money, as long as he believed there was a
sou left in her possession. One morning that he had demanded money,
threatening her with the severest consequences if she did not supply him
with what he desired, he disappeared and remained away all day, leaving
the kind-hearted Assunta, who loved him as if he were her own child, to
weep over his conduct and bewail his absence. Evening came, and still,
with all the patient solicitude of a mother, she watched for his return. "As
the eleventh hour struck, he entered with a swaggering air, attended by
two of the most dissolute and reckless of his boon companions. She
stretched out her arms to him, but they seized hold of her, and one of the
three--none other than the accursed Benedetto exclaimed,--'Put her to
torture and she'll soon tell us where her money is.' "It
unfortunately happened that our neighbor, Vasilio, was at Bastia, leaving
no person in his house but his wife; no human creature beside could hear
or see anything that took place within our dwelling. Two held poor Assunta,
who, unable to conceive that any harm was intended to her, smiled in the
face of those who were soon to become her executioners. The third
proceeded to barricade the doors and windows, then returned, and the three
united in stifling the cries of terror incited by the sight of these
preparations, and then dragged Assunta feet foremost towards the brazier,
expecting to wring from her an avowal of where her supposed treasure was
secreted. In the struggle her clothes caught fire, and they were obliged
to let go their hold in order to preserve themselves from sharing the same
fate. Covered with flames, Assunta rushed wildly to the door, but it was
fastened; she flew to the windows, but they were also secured; then the
neighbors heard frightful shrieks; it was Assunta calling for help. The
cries died away in groans, and next morning, as soon as Vasilio's wife
could muster up courage to venture abroad, she caused the door of our
dwelling to be opened by the public authorities, when Assunta, although
dreadfully burnt, was found still breathing; every drawer and closet in
the house had been forced open, and the money stolen. Benedetto never
again appeared at Rogliano, neither have I since that day either seen or
heard anything concerning him. "It
was subsequently to these dreadful events that I waited on your
excellency, to whom it would have been folly to have mentioned Benedetto,
since all trace of him seemed entirely lost; or of my sister, since she
was dead." "And
in what light did you view the occurrence?" inquired Monte Cristo. "As
a punishment for the crime I had committed," answered Bertuccio.
"Oh, those Villeforts are an accursed race!" "Truly
they are," murmured the count in a lugubrious tone. "And
now," resumed Bertuccio, "your excellency may, perhaps, be able
to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for the first time--this
garden, the actual scene of my crime--must have given rise to reflections
of no very agreeable nature, and produced that gloom and depression of
spirits which excited the notice of your excellency, who was pleased to
express a desire to know the cause. At this instant a shudder passes over
me as I reflect that possibly I am now standing on the very grave in which
lies M. de Villefort, by whose hand the ground was dug to receive the
corpse of his child." "Everything
is possible," said Monte Cristo, rising from the bench on which he
had been sitting; "even," he added in an inaudible voice,
"even that the procureur be not dead. The Abbиж Busoni did right to send you to me," he went
on in his ordinary tone, "and you have done well in relating to me
the whole of your history, as it will prevent my forming any erroneous
opinions concerning you in future. As for that Benedetto, who so grossly
belied his name, have you never made any effort to trace out whither he
has gone, or what has become of him?" "No;
far from wishing to learn whither he has betaken himself, I should shun
the possibility of meeting him as I would a wild beast. Thank God, I have
never heard his name mentioned by any person, and I hope and believe he is
dead." "Do
not think so, Bertuccio," replied the count; "for the wicked are
not so easily disposed of, for God seems to have them under his special
watch-care to make of them instruments of his vengeance." "So
be it," responded Bertuccio, "all I ask of heaven is that I may
never see him again. And now, your excellency," he added, bowing his
head, "you know everything--you are my judge on earth, as the
Almighty is in heaven; have you for me no words of consolation?" "My
good friend, I can only repeat the words addressed to you by the Abbиж Busoni. Villefort merited
punishment for what he had done to you, and, perhaps, to others. Benedetto,
if still living, will become the instrument of divine retribution in some
way or other, and then be duly punished in his turn. As far as you
yourself are concerned, I see but one point in which you are really
guilty. Ask yourself, wherefore, after rescuing the infant from its living
grave, you did not restore it to its mother? There was the crime,
Bertuccio--that was where you became really culpable." "True,
excellency, that was the crime, the real crime, for in that I acted like a
coward. My first duty, directly I had succeeded in recalling the babe to
life, was to restore it to its mother; but, in order to do so, I must have
made close and careful inquiry, which would, in all probability, have led
to my own apprehension; and I clung to life, partly on my sister's
account, and partly from that feeling of pride inborn in our hearts of
desiring to come off untouched and victorious in the execution of our
vengeance. Perhaps, too, the natural and instinctive love of life made me
wish to avoid endangering my own. And then, again, I am not as brave and
courageous as was my poor brother." Bertuccio hid his face in his
hands as he uttered these words, while Monte Cristo fixed on him a look of
inscrutable meaning. After a brief silence, rendered still more solemn by
the time and place, the count said, in a tone of melancholy wholly unlike
his usual manner, "In order to bring this conversation to a fitting
termination (the last we shall ever hold upon this subject), I will repeat
to you some words I have heard from the lips of the Abbиж Busoni. For all evils there are
two remedies--time and silence. And now leave me, Monsieur Bertuccio, to
walk alone here in the garden. The very circumstances which inflict on
you, as a principal in the tragic scene enacted here, such painful
emotions, are to me, on the contrary, a source of something like
contentment, and serve but to enhance the value of this dwelling in my
estimation. The chief beauty of trees consists in the deep shadow of their
umbrageous boughs, while fancy pictures a moving multitude of shapes and
forms flitting and passing beneath that shade. Here I have a garden laid
out in such a way as to afford the fullest scope for the imagination, and
furnished with thickly grown trees, beneath whose leafy screen a visionary
like myself may conjure up phantoms at will. This to me, who expected but
to find a blank enclosure surrounded by a straight wall, is, I assure you,
a most agreeable surprise. I have no fear of ghosts, and I have never
heard it said that so much harm had been done by the dead during six
thousand years as is wrought by the living in a single day. Retire within,
Bertuccio, and tranquillize your mind. Should your confessor be less
indulgent to you in your dying moments than you found the Abbиж Busoni, send for me, if I am
still on earth, and I will soothe your ears with words that shall
effectually calm and soothe your parting soul ere it goes forth to
traverse the ocean called eternity." Bertuccio
bowed respectfully, and turned away, sighing heavily. Monte Cristo, left
alone, took three or four steps onwards, and murmured, "Here, beneath
this plane-tree, must have been where the infant's grave was dug. There is
the little door opening into the garden. At this corner is the private
staircase communicating with the sleeping apartment. There will be no
necessity for me to make a note of these particulars, for there, before my
eyes, beneath my feet, all around me, I have the plan sketched with all
the living reality of truth." After making the tour of the garden a
second time, the count re-entered his carriage, while Bertuccio, who
perceived the thoughtful expression of his master's features, took his
seat beside the driver without uttering a word. The carriage proceeded
rapidly towards Paris. That
same evening, upon reaching his abode in the Champs Elysижes, the Count of Monte Cristo
went over the whole building with the air of one long acquainted with each
nook or corner. Nor, although preceding the party, did he once mistake one
door for another, or commit the smallest error when choosing any
particular corridor or staircase to conduct him to a place or suite of
rooms he desired to visit. Ali was his principal attendant during this
nocturnal survey. Having given various orders to Bertuccio relative to the
improvements and alterations he desired to make in the house, the Count,
drawing out his watch, said to the attentive Nubian, "It is half-past
eleven o'clock; Haidижe will soon he here. Have the
French attendants been summoned to await her coming?" Ali extended
his hands towards the apartments destined for the fair Greek, which were
so effectually concealed by means of a tapestried entrance, that it would
have puzzled the most curious to have divined their existence. Ali, having
pointed to the apartments, held up three fingers of his right hand, and
then, placing it beneath his head, shut his eyes, and feigned to sleep.
"I understand," said Monte Cristo, well acquainted with Ali's
pantomime; "you mean to tell me that three female attendants await
their new mistress in her sleeping-chamber." Ali, with considerable
animation, made a sign in the affirmative. "Madame
will be tired to-night," continued Monte Cristo, "and will, no
doubt, wish to rest. Desire the French attendants not to weary her with
questions, but merely to pay their respectful duty and retire. You will
also see that the Greek servants hold no communication with those of this
country." He bowed. Just at that moment voices were heard hailing the
conciииrge. The gate opened, a carriage
rolled down the avenue, and stopped at the steps. The count hastily
descended, presented himself at the already opened carriage door, and held
out his hand to a young woman, completely enveloped in a green silk mantle
heavily embroidered with gold. She raised the hand extended towards her to
her lips, and kissed it with a mixture of love and respect. Some few words
passed between them in that sonorous language in which Homer makes his
gods converse. The young woman spoke with an expression of deep
tenderness, while the count replied with an air of gentle gravity.
Preceded by Ali, who carried a rose-colored flambeau in his hand, the
new-comer, who was no other than the lovely Greek who had been Monte
Cristo's companion in Italy, was conducted to her apartments, while the
count retired to the pavilion reserved for himself. In another hour every
light in the house was extinguished, and it might have been thought that
all its inmates slept. |
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