Chapter 25 The Unknown
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DAY,
FOR WHICH Dantииs
had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes, again dawned. With
the first light Dantииs
resumed his search. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the
previous evening, and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the
landscape; but it wore the same wild, barren aspect when seen by the rays
of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer
of eve. Descending into the grotto, he lifted the stone, filled his
pockets with gems, put the box together as well and securely as he could,
sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken, and then
carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance;
then, quitting the grotto, he replaced the stone, heaping on it broken
masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite, filling the
interstices with earth, into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing
plants, such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn, then carefully
watering these new plantations, he scrupulously effaced every trace of
footsteps, leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and
untrodden as he had found it. This done, he impatiently awaited the return
of his companions. To wait at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching
like a dragon over the almost incalculable riches that had thus fallen
into his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart, which yearned
to return to dwell among mankind, and to assume the rank, power, and
influence which are always accorded to wealth--that first and greatest of
all the forces within the grasp of man. On
the sixth day, the smugglers returned. From a distance Dantииs recognized the rig and handling
of The Young Amelia, and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards
the landing-place, he met his companions with an assurance that, although
considerably better than when they quitted him, he still suffered acutely
from his late accident. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip.
To this question the smugglers replied that, although successful in
landing their cargo in safety, they had scarcely done so when they
received intelligence that a guard-ship had just quitted the port of
Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. This obliged them to make
all the speed they could to evade the enemy, when they could but lament
the absence of Dantииs, whose superior skill in the
management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. In fact, the
pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when, fortunately, night came
on, and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica, and so elude all
further pursuit. Upon the whole, however, the trip had been sufficiently
successful to satisfy all concerned; while the crew, and particularly
Jacopo, expressed great regrets that Dantииs
had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits, which
amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. Edmond
preserved the most admirable self-command, not suffering the faintest
indication of a smile to escape him at the enumeration of all the benefits
he would have reaped had he been able to quit the island; but as The Young
Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away, he embarked that
same evening, and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. Arrived at
Leghorn, he repaired to the house of a Jew, a dealer in precious stones,
to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand
francs each. Dantииs half feared that such valuable
jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion;
but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a
bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. The
following day Dantииs
presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel, accompanying the gift by a
donation of one hundred piastres, that he might provide himself with a
suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit, upon condition that he
would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old
man named Louis Dantииs,
residing in the Allижes
de Meillan, and also a young woman called Mercижdииs,
an inhabitant of the Catalan village. Jacopo could scarcely believe his
senses at receiving this magnificent present, which Dantииs hastened to account for by saying that he had
merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family, who did
not allow him as much money as he liked to spend; but that on his arrival
at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune, left him by an
uncle, whose sole heir he was. The superior education of Dantииs gave an air of such extreme
probability to this statement that it never once occurred to Jacopo to
doubt its accuracy. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on
board The Young Amelia having expired, Dantииs
took leave of the captain, who at first tried all his powers of persuasion
to induce him to remain as one of the crew, but having been told the
history of the legacy, he ceased to importune him further. The following
morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles, with directions from Dantииs to join him at the Island of
Monte Cristo. Having
seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor, Dantииs proceeded to make his final adieus on board The
Young Amelia, distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to
secure for him the good wishes of all, and expressions of cordial interest
in all that concerned him. To the captain he promised to write when he had
made up his mind as to his future plans. Then Dantииs departed for Genoa. At the moment of his arrival a
small yacht was under trial in the bay; this yacht had been built by order
of an Englishman, who, having heard that the Genoese excelled all other
builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of
fast-sailing vessels, was desirous of possessing a specimen of their
skill; the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese
builder was forty thousand francs. Dantииs,
struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel, applied to its
owner to transfer it to him, offering sixty thousand francs, upon
condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. The
proposal was too advantageous to be refused, the more so as the person for
whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland, and
was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month, by which time
the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. A bargain was
therefore struck. Dantииs led the owner of the yacht to
the dwelling of a Jew; retired with the latter for a few minutes to a
small back parlor, and upon their return the Jew counted out to the
shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. The
delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew
for the little vessel, but this Dantииs declined with many thanks, saying he was
accustomed to cruise about quite alone, and his principal pleasure
consisted in managing his yacht himself; the only thing the builder could
oblige him in would be to contrive a sort of secret closet in the cabin at
his bed's head, the closet to contain three divisions, so constructed as
to be concealed from all but himself. The builder cheerfully undertook the
commission, and promised to have these secret places completed by the next
day, Dantииs furnishing the dimensions and
plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. The
following day Dantииs
sailed with his yacht from Genoa, under the inspection of an immense crowd
drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred
managing his own yacht. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at
seeing the perfect skill with which Dantииs handled the helm. The boat, indeed, seemed to be
animated with almost human intelligence, so promptly did it obey the
slightest touch; and Dantииs
required but a short trial of his beautiful craft to acknowledge that the
Genoese had not without reason attained their high reputation in the art
of shipbuilding. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes
as long as it remained visible; they then turned their conjectures upon
her probable destination. Some insisted she was making for Corsica, others
the Island of Elba; bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for
Spain; while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her
intended course; but no one thought of Monte Cristo. Yet thither it was
that Dantииs guided his vessel, and at Monte
Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day; his boat had proved
herself a first-class sailer, and had come the distance from Genoa in
thirty-five hours. Dantииs
had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore, and, instead of
landing at the usual place, he dropped anchor in the little creek. The
island was utterly deserted, and bore no evidence of having been visited
since he went away; his treasure was just as he had left it. Early on the
following morning he commenced the removal of his riches, and ere
nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the
compartments of the secret locker. A
week passed by. Dantииs
employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island, studying it as a
skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service,
till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and
bad qualities. The former Dantииs
proposed to augment, the latter to remedy. Upon
the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching
Monte Cristo. As it drew near, he recognized it as the boat he had given
to Jacopo. He immediately signalled it. His signal was returned, and in
two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. A
mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the
information Jacopo had obtained. Old Dantииs
was dead, and Mercижdииs had disappeared. Dantииs listened to these melancholy
tidings with outward calmness; but, leaping lightly ashore, he signified
his desire to be quite alone. In a couple of hours he returned. Two of the
men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it,
and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles. For
his father's death he was in some manner prepared; but he knew not how to
account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercижdииs.
Without
divulging his secret, Dantииs
could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. There were,
besides, other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining, and those were
of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to
himself. His looking-glass had assured him, during his stay at Leghorn,
that he ran no risk of recognition; moreover, he had now the means of
adopting any disguise he thought proper. One fine morning, then, his
yacht, followed by the little fishing-boat, boldly entered the port of
Marseilles, and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence, on the
never-to-be-forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d'If, he had
been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. Still Dantииs
could not view without a shudder the approach of a gendarme who
accompanied the officers deputed to demand his bill of health ere the
yacht was permitted to hold communication with the shore; but with that
perfect self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria,
Dantииs coolly presented an English passport he had
obtained from Leghorn, and as this gave him a standing which a French
passport would not have afforded, he was informed that there existed no
obstacle to his immediate debarkation. The
first person to attract the attention of Dantииs, as he landed on the Canebiииre, was one of the crew belonging
to the Pharaon. Edmond welcomed the meeting with this fellow--who had been
one of his own sailors--as a sure means of testing the extent of the
change which time had worked in his own appearance. Going straight towards
him, he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects, carefully
watching the man's countenance as he did so; but not a word or look
implied that he had the slightest idea of ever having seen before the
person with whom he was then conversing. Giving the sailor a piece of
money in return for his civility, Dantииs proceeded onwards; but ere he
had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. Dantииs instantly turned to meet him.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said the honest fellow, in almost
breathless haste, "but I believe you made a mistake; you intended to
give me a two-franc piece, and see, you gave me a double Napoleon." "Thank
you, my good friend. I see that I have made a trifling mistake, as you
say; but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double
Napoleon, that you may drink to my health, and be able to ask your
messmates to join you." So
extreme was the surprise of the sailor, that he was unable even to thank
Edmond, whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless
astonishment. "Some nabob from India," was his comment. Dantииs, meanwhile, went on his way.
Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion; his first and
most indelible recollections were there; not a tree, not a street, that he
passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. And thus he
proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles, from
whence a full view of the Allижes
de Meillan was obtained. At this spot, so pregnant with fond and filial
remembrances, his heart beat almost to bursting, his knees tottered under
him, a mist floated over his sight, and had he not clung for support to
one of the trees, he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been
crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. Recovering
himself, however, he wiped the perspiration from his brows, and stopped
not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his
father had lived. The
nasturtiums and other plants, which his father had delighted to train
before his window, had all disappeared from the upper part of the house.
Leaning against the tree, he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper
stories of the shabby little house. Then he advanced to the door, and
asked whether there were any rooms to be let. Though answered in the
negative, he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the
fifth floor, that, in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the conciииrge that they were occupied, Dantииs succeeded in inducing the man
to go up to the tenants, and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed
to look at them. The
tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely
married a week; and seeing them, Dantииs
sighed heavily. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments
remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantииs; the very paper was different,
while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been
filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared; the four walls alone remained
as he had left them. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed
as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his; and,
in spite of his efforts to prevent it, the eyes of Edmond were suffused in
tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last,
vainly calling for his son. The young couple gazed with astonishment at
the sight of their visitor's emotion, and wondered to see the large tears
silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable
features; but they felt the sacredness of his grief, and kindly refrained
from questioning him as to its cause, while, with instinctive delicacy,
they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. When he withdrew from the scene
of his painful recollections, they both accompanied him downstairs,
reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased, and
assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. As Edmond
passed the door on the fourth floor, he paused to inquire whether
Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there; but he received, for reply, that
the person in question had got into difficulties, and at the present time
kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. Having
obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allижes de Meillan belonged, Dantииs next proceeded thither, and,
under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his
passport), purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five
thousand francs, at least ten thousand more than it was worth; but had its
owner asked half a million, it would unhesitatingly have been given. The
very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the
house, now become the property of Dantииs,
were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer
of deeds, etc., that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the
rooms in the house, without the least augmentation of rent, upon condition
of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at
present inhabited. This
strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of
the Allижes de Meillan, and a multitude of
theories were afloat, none of which was anywhere near the truth. But what
raised public astonishment to a climax, and set all conjecture at
defiance, was the knowledge that the same stranger who had in the morning
visited the Allижes de Meillan had been seen in
the evening walking in the little village of the Catalans, and afterwards
observed to enter a poor fisherman's hut, and to pass more than an hour in
inquiring after persons who had either been dead or gone away for more
than fifteen or sixteen years. But on the following day the family from
whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present,
consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat, with two seines and a tender.
The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have
poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor, but they had seen
him, upon quitting the hut, merely give some orders to a sailor, and then
springing lightly on horseback, leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. |
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