Chapter 32 The Waking
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WHEN
FRANZ returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a dream. He thought
himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely
penetrated. He stretched forth his hand, and touched stone; he rose to his
seat, and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather,
very soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled; and as if the statues had
been but shadows from the tomb, they had vanished at his waking. He
advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came, and to all
the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He found
that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and through a kind of
fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. The air and water were shining
in the beams of the morning sun; on the shore the sailors were sitting,
chatting and laughing; and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor,
undulating gracefully on the water. There for some time he enjoyed the
fresh breeze which played on his brow, and listened to the dash of the
waves on the beach, that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as
silver. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine
charm which is in the things of nature, specially after a fantastic dream;
then gradually this view of the outer world, so calm, so pure, so grand,
reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision, and once more awakened
memory. He recalled his arrival on the island, his presentation to a
smuggler chief, a subterranean palace full of splendor, an excellent
supper, and a spoonful of hashish. It seemed, however, even in the very
face of open day, that at least a year had elapsed since all these things
had passed, so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream, and
so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. Thus every now and then
he saw in fancy amid the sailors, seated on a rock, or undulating in the
vessel, one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and
kisses. Otherwise, his head was perfectly clear, and his body refreshed;
he was free from the slightest headache; on the contrary, he felt a
certain degree of lightness, a faculty for absorbing the pure air, and
enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. He
went gayly up to the sailors, who rose as soon as they perceived him; and
the patron, accosting him, said, "The Signor Sinbad has left his
compliments for your excellency, and desires us to express the regret he
feels at not being able to take his leave in person; but he trusts you
will excuse him, as very important business calls him to Malaga." "So,
then, Gaetano," said Franz, "this is, then, all reality; there
exists a man who has received me in this island, entertained me right
royally, and his departed while I was asleep?" "He
exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails
spread; and if you will use your glass, you will, in all probability,
recognize your host in the midst of his crew." So saying, Gaetano
pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the
southern point of Corsica. Franz adjusted his telescope, and directed it
towards the yacht. Gaetano was not mistaken. At the stern the mysterious
stranger was standing up looking towards the shore, and holding a
spy-glass in his hand. He was attired as he had been on the previous
evening, and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu.
Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of
signals. After a second, a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of
the vessel, which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air, and then
Franz heard a slight report. "There, do you hear?" observed
Gaetano; "he is bidding you adieu." The young man took his
carbine and fired it in the air, but without any idea that the noise could
be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. "What
are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. "In
the first place, light me a torch." "Ah,
yes, I understand," replied the patron, "to find the entrance to
the enchanted apartment. With much pleasure, your excellency, if it would
amuse you; and I will get you the torch you ask for. But I too have had
the idea you have, and two or three times the same fancy has come over me;
but I have always given it up. Giovanni, light a torch," he added,
"and give it to his excellency." Giovanni
obeyed. Franz took the lamp, and entered the subterranean grotto, followed
by Gaetano. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of
heather that was there; but it was in vain that he carried his torch all
round the exterior surface of the grotto. He saw nothing, unless that, by
traces of smoke, others had before him attempted the same thing, and, like
him, in vain. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall, as
impenetrable as futurity, without strict scrutiny; he did not see a
fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it, or a
projecting point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would
give way. All was vain; and he lost two hours in his attempts, which were
at last utterly useless. At the end of this time he gave up his search,
and Gaetano smiled. When
Franz appeared again on the shore, the yacht only seemed like a small
white speck on the horizon. He looked again through his glass, but even
then he could not distinguish anything. Gaetano reminded him that he had
come for the purpose of shooting goats, which he had utterly forgotten. He
took his fowling-piece, and began to hunt over the island with the air of
a man who is fulfilling a duty, rather than enjoying a pleasure; and at
the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. These
animals, though wild and agile as chamois, were too much like domestic
goats, and Franz could not consider them as game. Moreover, other ideas,
much more enthralling, occupied his mind. Since, the evening before, he
had really been the hero of one of the tales of the Thousand and One
Nights, and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. Then, in
spite of the failure of his first search, he began a second, after having
told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. The second visit was a long
one, and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. Franz
was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his
mysterious host had invited him to supper; and he saw the little yacht,
now like a sea-gull on the wave, continuing her flight towards Corsica.
"Why," he remarked to Gaetano, "you told me that Signor
Sinbad was going to Malaga, while it seems he is in the direction of
Porto-Vecchio." "Don't
you remember," said the patron, "I told you that among the crew
there were two Corsican brigands?" "True;
and he is going to land them," added Franz. "Precisely
so," replied Gaetano. "Ah, he is one who fears neither God nor
Satan, they say, and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course
to do a poor devil a service." "But
such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the
country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy," said Franz.
"And
what cares he for that," replied Gaetano with a laugh, "or any
authorities? He smiles at them. Let them try to pursue him! Why, in the
first place, his yacht is not a ship, but a bird, and he would beat any
frigate three knots in every nine; and if he were to throw himself on the
coast, why, is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" It
was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad, Franz's host, had the honor of
being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole
coast of the Mediterranean, and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. As to
Franz, he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. He had
lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto; he consequently
despatched his breakfast, and, his boat being ready, he hastened on board,
and they were soon under way. At the moment the boat began her course they
lost sight of the yacht, as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto-Vecchio.
With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night; and then
supper, Sinbad, hashish, statues,--all became a dream for Franz. The boat
sailed on all day and all night, and next morning, when the sun rose, they
had lost sight of Monte Cristo. When Franz had once again set foot on
shore, he forgot, for the moment at least, the events which had just
passed, while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence, and then
thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion, who was
awaiting him at Rome. He
set out, and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the
mail-coach. An apartment, as we have said, had been retained beforehand,
and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini's hotel. But this was not so
easy a matter, for the streets were thronged with people, and Rome was
already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great
events; and at Rome there are four great events in every year,--the
Carnival, Holy Week, Corpus Christi, and the Feast of St. Peter. All the
rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy, between life
and death, which renders it similar to a kind of station between this
world and the next--a sublime spot, a resting-place full of poetry and
character, and at which Franz had already halted five or six times, and at
each time found it more marvellous and striking. At last he made his way
through the mob, which was continually increasing and getting more and
more turbulent, and reached the hotel. On his first inquiry he was told,
with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackney-coachmen and inn-keepers
with their houses full, that there was no room for him at the H?tel de
Londres. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini, and asked for Albert de
Morcerf. This plan succeeded; and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him,
excusing himself for having made his excellency wait, scolding the
waiters, taking the candlestick from the porter, who was ready to pounce
on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert, when Morcerf himself
appeared. The
apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. The two rooms looked
onto the street--a fact which Signor Pastrini commented upon as an
inappreciable advantage. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich
gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese; but the host was
unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged.
"Very good, signor Pastrini," said Franz; "but we must have
some supper instantly, and a carriage for tomorrow and the following
days." "As to supper," replied the landlord, "you
shall be served immediately; but as for the carriage"-- "What
as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. "Come, come, Signor
Pastrini, no joking; we must have a carriage." "Sir,"
replied the host, "we will do all in our power to procure you
one--this is all I can say." "And
when shall we know?" inquired Franz. "To-morrow
morning," answered the inn-keeper. "Oh,
the deuce! then we shall pay the more, that's all, I see plainly enough.
At Drake's or Aaron's one pays twenty-five lire for common days, and
thirty or thirty-five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days; add five
lire a day more for extras, that will make forty, and there's an end of
it." "I
am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a
carriage." "Then
they must put horses to mine. It is a little worse for the journey, but
that's no matter." "There
are no horses." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply
he does not understand. "Do
you understand that, my dear Franz--no horses?" he said, "but
can't we have post-horses?" "They
have been all hired this fortnight, and there are none left but those
absolutely requisite for posting." "What
are we to say to this?" asked Franz. "I
say, that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension, I am
accustomed not to dwell on that thing, but to pass to another. Is supper
ready, Signor Pastrini?" "Yes,
your excellency." "Well,
then, let us sup." "But
the carriage and horses?" said Franz. "Be
easy, my dear boy; they will come in due season; it is only a question of
how much shall be charged for them." Morcerf then, with that
delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full
purse or well-lined pocketbook, supped, went to bed, slept soundly, and
dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six
horses. |
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