World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 14 Engagement Night
As we have already said, Villefort hurried back to the Rue de Grand-Courre.When he returned to the residence of the Marquise de Saint-Meran, he saw that the guests who had been in the dining room when he left were already sitting in the living room drinking coffee.René and the others were anxiously waiting for him, so that when he entered the drawing-room there was an instant cheer.

"Ah, the swordsman, the pillar of the country, the royalist Brutus ancient Roman statesman (85-42 BC), who was involved in the plot to assassinate Caesar. What happened?" someone shouted ask.

"Ah, is there another government of terror coming?" asked the second man.

"Is that the nickname given to Napoleon by the troll royalists of Corsica. Out of the lair?" asked a third.

"Marquise," said Villefort, going up to his future mother-in-law, "I must excuse myself, and I beg your pardon. M. Marquis, would I be honored to have a few words with you alone?"

"Why, is it really so serious?" asked the Marchioness, who had noticed the cloud over Villefort's brow.

"It is very serious, and I have to leave you for a few days. So," he continued, turning to René, "you will see for yourself whether it is serious."

"You are going out, monsieur?" René exclaimed, unable to conceal his excitement at the sudden news.

"Yes, madam," answered Villefort, "it is necessary to go."

"And where are you going?" asked the Marchioness.

"Madame, this is a judicial secret. However, if any of you here have any errands in Paris, a friend of mine is leaving tonight, and he will be willing to help." The guests could not help but look at each other.

"Would you like to talk to me for a while?" said the Marquis.

"Yes, if it's convenient, let's talk in your study."

The Marquis then took Villefort's arm, and together they left the drawing-room.

"Well," asked the Marquis, as soon as he entered the study, "what's the matter? Tell me, please."

"I consider the matter to be so serious that I must go to Paris at once. Now, Marquis, I beg you to forgive me for asking you a question: Do you have State bonds?"

"All my property is in the national debt, about six or seven million francs."

"Then, sell it, Marquis, you must sell it, or you will be bankrupt."

"But, tell me, how do I sell here?"

"You have a stockbroker, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You write a letter and take it to me, telling him to throw it away without delay, maybe it will be too late when I arrive."

"Well, then, let us not waste time," said the Marquis, and sitting down at his desk, he wrote a letter to his agent ordering him to sell at any price.

"The letter is ready now," said Villefort, putting it carefully into the briefcase. "I need another letter."

"To whom?"

"To the Holy One."

"To the Holy One?"

"Yes."

"I can't be so bold as to write to His Majesty."

"So, I didn't mean to ask you to write at all. I wanted to ask Count Salvieux to write through you. With his letter, I can see Your Majesty without having to go through the whole set of etiquette regulations for seeing the Holy One. Otherwise, a lot of precious time will be lost."

"But you can find the Keeper of the Seal, who comes and goes in and out of the Tuileries Palace at will. With his introduction, won't you be able to see the Holy Majesty at any time?"

"Yes, of course. But why do I have to give half of the credit for reporting the letter to others? Just think about it, the Lord Keeper of the Seal will definitely relegate me to the second place, and I will lose all benefits after the matter is completed. I just A brief reminder to you, Marquis: If I am the first to report to the Tuileries, my future will be guaranteed, because this time I have done my work to the Holy Majesty, and he will not forget it."

"In that case, my son, pack up your things and prepare to go. I will go to the Count Salvieux and ask him to write a letter, and you will have a pass."

"Okay, please hurry up, I have to catch the carriage leaving the post station in a quarter of an hour."

"You can ask the carriage to stop at the door."

"Definitely. You will apologize to the Marchioness on my behalf? I have to apologize to Mademoiselle Saint-Meran. I am really sorry that I have to leave her on such a day today."

"They will all come to me; tell them yourself."

"Thank you very much, then please take care of my letter."

The Marquis rang the bell, and a servant entered the study.

"Tell the Count Salvieux, I will wait for him here." The Marquis said to Villefort after giving instructions to the servant, "You can go now."

"Okay, I'll be right over."

Villefort hurried out of the Marquis, but just as he was leaving the door, he thought that the deputy public prosecutor walked in such a hurry that if he was seen, he would most likely disturb the peace of the town, so he put on his usual expression. Majestic and solemn style.

Walking to the door of his house, he saw a white figure standing motionless in the darkness, as if someone was waiting for him.It was the beautiful Catalan girl, who had no news of Edmond, who had come from Faro in the evening, and wanted to find out for herself why Edmond had been arrested.She stood against the wall, and when Villefort approached, she went forward and barred the way.Dantès had spoken of his fiancée, and Villefort recognized her before Mercedes herself announced her name.The woman was so beautiful and dignified that Villefort could not help being surprised, and when the woman asked her about her fiancé, the deputy prosecutor felt that he was the accused, and the woman became the judge.

"The man you inquire about," said Villefort hastily, "has committed a crime so serious that I cannot help him, madam."

Mercedes could not help sobbing. Villefort tried to shake her off, but was stopped again. "But you must tell me where he is?" asked Mercedes, "so that I may know whether he is dead or alive."

"I don't know, he is no longer under my jurisdiction," replied Villefort.Embarrassed by the piercing eyes of Mercedes and her imploring manner, Villefort pushed her away and went into the room, closing the door as if to shut out the unexpected pain. Like outside the door.However, pain will not be dispelled in this way, pain is like the ancient Roman poet Virgi (70-19 BC).Said fatal wound, the wounded person will always carry it.Villefort entered the room and closed the door, but when he entered the drawing-room his legs gave way, and with a sigh like a sob he fell involuntarily on a chair.

At this time, in the depths of this desolate heart, although no fatal ulcer has formed yet, the first poisonous seed has already grown.The young man who had become the victim of his ambition, the innocent youth who had suffered in the place of his guilty father, appeared before his eyes, the young man with a pale face and a menacing expression, holding his fiancée by the arm, and the girl's face was also pale.What the victim left him was the reproach of conscience. Although he didn't jump up like the ill-fated madmen in ancient times, at a certain moment, the dull and sad reproach sounded in his heart, and when he thought of the past, he left behind A scar that hurt like a pinprick, and it intensified day by day until death.

At this time, there was still a moment of hesitation in the depths of his soul.In the past, he was indifferent, only relying on the mentality of the judge to fight against the criminal, he proposed to punish the prisoner with capital punishment many times.His sharp words persuaded the judge and jury, and the criminals were executed, but his brow never left a cloud, because they were all guilty, at least, according to Villefort.However, this time the situation was completely different. He sentenced an innocent person to life imprisonment.The innocent prisoner could have lived a happy life. Villefort not only ruined that person's freedom, but also ruined his happiness. This time Villefort was not a judge but an executioner.

Thinking of this, he felt that muffled voice of reproach we have just described.He had never felt this way before, and now there was a scolding in his heart, a blank fear in his chest.At this time, he was like a wounded person, already instinctively feeling severe pain, as long as the wound hadn't healed, his fingers would tremble every time he touched the open and bloody wound.But Villefort's wound would not heal, and even if it did, it would open, and it would bleed more and hurt more.

At this moment, if the sweet voice of René pleading for him should be heard in his ears, if the beautiful Mercedes came in and said to him: "God has watched us and judged us, for God's sake, please return My fiancé", then, the forced but not yet fully wrinkled face may completely droop, and the cold hands may sign the order to release Dantès regardless of the consequences for him.But all was still, not a murmur could be heard, and at last the drawing-room door was thrown open, and Villefort's servant entered to tell him that the post-horses were harnessed to the carriage.

Villefort rose, or rather, sprang up like a man who has conquered an inner struggle, and hastening to the desk, pocketed all the gold coins in the drawer.For a moment he panicked, paced up and down the room, rubbed his forehead with his hand, and muttered a few incoherent words.At last he felt a servant come and throw his overcoat over his shoulders, so he came out, jumped into the carriage, and ordered curtly and emphatically to go first to the Marquis de Saint-Méran in the Rue Grande-Court.

In this way, the doom of Dantès was sealed.

As the Marquis of Saint-Meran said, Villefort met the Marquise and René in the Marquis's study.As soon as he saw René, Villefort trembled, thinking that she was coming again to beg for the release of Dantès.Oh, how shameful is the selfishness of man, the beautiful girl had only one thought in her mind at this moment: Villefort was going to leave her.She loved Villefort, but at the moment of becoming her husband, Villefort was going away, and he could not tell when he would return.Instead of interceding for Dantès, René cursed the man for whose crime the girl was so separated from her beloved.

What can Mercedes say!
Poor Mercedes met Fernand on the corner of the Rue La Rogere, and Fernand had been following her.Mercedes returns to the village of Catalunya, desperate as if dead, throws herself on the bed.Fernand knelt by the bed, holding her cold hand tightly, but Mercedes couldn't remember to pull her hand back. Fernan's hand was covered with burning kisses, but Mercedes was completely Not noticeable.She passed the night like this, the oil ran out and the lamp went out, but she did not feel the darkness, because she did not see the light, and the night came and went, but she could not see the daylight.Grief had bandaged her eyes, and she could see nothing but Edmund.

"Ah, here you are!" she said at last, turning to Fernand.

"I haven't left you since yesterday." Fernand said with a painful sigh.

M. Morrel still refused to give up. He learned that Dantès was taken to prison after the interrogation, so he ran around, looking for all his friends and all the powerful people in Marseilles.But word had already spread that Dantès had been arrested because he was a member of Napoleon's party.Napoleon's attempts to restore the throne were considered by the most daring of those days to be mere daydreams, so that wherever he went he was met with indifference, misgiving, or refusal.He came home disheartened, and had to admit that the case was serious enough that no one could help.

Caderousse was so disturbed and distressed that he did not go about like M. Morrel, nor did he try to help Dantès, nor could he do much.He drank his sorrows with wine, got two bottles of wine and locked himself in the house to get drunk.According to his state of mind at the time, two bottles of wine were not enough to overwhelm his judgment.As a result, he was drunk and couldn't find other alcohol, but he was not drunk enough, and the alcohol still couldn't calm down those memories.He faced two empty wine bottles, leaned his elbows on a rickety table, and in the light of the long wick, he saw only the flying ghosts of the Ottomans. German chemist (1818-1892).What was sprinkled in his reagent was like a strange and absurd cloud of black dust.

Only Tang La was neither in pain nor uneasiness.Tangra was even happy that he had lost an enemy and saved his seat on the "King of Egypt" which he was afraid of losing.Tang La is the kind of person who can calculate. He was born with a pen behind his ears and an ink bottle in his heart. To him, everything in the world is nothing more than addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. Numbers are more precious to him than people.So Tangra went to bed on time as usual and slept soundly.

Villefort received the letter from the Earl of Salvieux, then put his face on René's cheeks, kissed the hand of the Marquise de Saint-Meran, and finally shook hands with the Marquis. gallop on the road.

The old Dantès, who was very sad and worried, was dying.As for the situation of Dantès, we all already know.

(End of this chapter)