World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 207
It was with a heavy heart that the count left the mansion, and he left Mercedes alone there, where he would probably never see her again.After the death of little Edward, the mood of Monte Cristo changed a lot.He finally climbed to the peak of revenge along the winding and gentle slope. Looking over the mountain, he saw the abyss of doubt.Besides, the conversation he had just had with Mercedes had brought back countless memories in his mind, but he could not dwell on them.It is impossible for a man as resolute and strong as the Earl to be so unhappy all the time. If he is a mediocre person, although this kind of state of mind makes people sour, he can survive day by day. It's unbearable to mourn.The count could not help thinking that since he was on the verge of blaming himself, there must be something wrong in his calculations.

"I didn't see through the past," he said, "but I couldn't have made a mistake like this. What?" He went on, "Is the goal I set a ridiculous goal? Wrong way? What? Is it only an hour to prove to the architect that the project on which he has poured all his hopes is, if not impossible, at least treacherous? I can't keep thinking that way, or I will Crazy. Today I can't justify myself, because I didn't judge the past correctly, because I looked at the past from another angle of vision. Yes, time goes by, the past is like the scenery on the roadside, the more people go forward, the past behind them It's getting more and more hazy. Now it's like someone is dreaming of getting hurt. I can see the wound and feel the pain, but I just can't remember how it happened. Well, you who have been reborn, you Curious rich man, you such a daydreamer, you such an all-powerful visionary, you such an indomitable millionaire, you go to taste the miserable taste of the life of hunger, cold and poverty, Let’s go back to the road we walked back then, and see how fate pushed you on this road, how bad luck forced you to go forward, and how despair held you back. Today Monte Cristo looks at the year in the mirror Dantès, but the glass of this mirror is full of glittering diamonds, gold, and luck. Put away the diamonds, blacken the gold, wipe out all the splendor, and through this mirror, you rich man It is the poor man you see, you the free man see the prisoner, you the reborn see the corpse."

Thinking like this, Monte Cristo walked along the Catherine Street. One night 24 years ago, he was escorted by a silent gendarme through this street. Now it looks bright and gorgeous, full of vitality, but that night, it was gloomy and gloomy, with no life, and all the doors and windows were closed tightly. "But these are the same houses," murmured Monte Cristo to himself, "but it was night, and now it is broad daylight, and they all look bright and cheerful in the sun."

He walked down Rue Saint-Laurent to the docks, toward the luggage storage where he had been put into the dinghy when he got to the docks.A yacht with a twill canopy was just approaching, and Monte Cristo greeted the captain, who enthusiastically rowed the yacht to Monte Cristo, as if the boatman saw an extra money business to do.The weather is sunny and sunny, which is a good weather for going out to sea.The sun was shining red and shining in all directions, making the waves on the horizon sparkle with golden light.The surface of the sea is as smooth as a mirror, only occasionally rippling. It turns out that the fish were chased by hidden predators and jumped out of the water to find a place to escape.Like white and elegant seagulls soaring in the sky, they return to Martigue Port, which is located on the west side of Marseille and the port at the mouth of the Rhone River.Fishing boats and laden merchant ships bound for Corsica or Spain passed the horizon.In spite of the splendor of the sky, in spite of the many shadows of the ships, in spite of the golden rays bathed in the whole landscape, the earl in his cloak was reminiscing about the past, and every detail of that terrible voyage was revealed one by one. Floating in front of his eyes: he thought of the cold lonely lamp in the village of Catalunya, how he knew where he was going to take him when he looked up at the Château d'If, how he wanted to break free from the gendarmerie and jump into the sea, how He recalled his despair when he realized he had been subdued, and recalled the feeling of the barrel of the Mauser against his temple like a ring of ice.It was as if a stream that had dried up in summer gradually became wet again in the cloudy autumn, and the dripping spring water began to merge into a trickling stream again. The Count of Monte Cristo felt the bitter water that soaked Edmond Dantès's heart slowly gushing out of his chest.As soon as he thought of this, the gorgeous sky, the elegant shadow of the boat, and the fiery red glow all disappeared in front of him.The day was miserable and covered with a desolate black veil, and the ghostly giant called the Château d'If appeared in front of him, which made him shudder, as if the ghost of some mortal enemy suddenly appeared before his eyes.

Here they are.The count instinctively shrank back to the stern of the yacht, but the owner said courteously: "We are docked, sir." Monte Cristo remembered that it was at this place, on this rock, when the gendarmes suddenly pulled him away. He pushed up, then put the point of the bayonet against his waist, and pushed him up the slope step by step.Dantès felt that this distance was so long at the beginning, but now Monte Cristo felt that the distance was very short.Every time the paddle is drawn, layers of waves are stirred up, and the mercury splashes in all directions, which also makes my heart full of emotions and arouses endless memories.

After the July Revolution, the Chateau d'If no longer detains prisoners. It has been converted into an anti-smuggling station, and a team of anti-smuggling police is stationed on the rock.At the beginning, this eerie castle has become a scenic spot that attracts tourists today, and the gatekeeper is already waiting at the gate, ready to lead tourists in for a visit.Monte Cristo knew everything here, but when he came under the vault, when he descended the dark steps, when the porter led him into the dungeon at Monte Cristo's request, the face of Monte Cristo He couldn't help becoming pale and cold, and bursts of cold sweat flowed down to his heart.The count asked if there were any guards left during the Restoration period, but some of them retired, some changed their careers, and the gatekeeper who showed him only came in 1830.The porter led Monte Cristo into his original dark cell, and Monte Cristo saw again the faint white light coming in through the narrow air window, and saw again the place where the bed had been moved away long ago, and behind it the The hole dug by Elder Leah was later blocked with stones, but it is still vaguely discernible now.Monte Cristo, feeling weak in his legs, moved a small wooden stool and sat down.

"Except for Mirabeau, a French statesman (1749-1791), himself an earl, who was elected in 1789 as a representative of the third estate in the Aix region, who advocated a constitutional monarchy. Apart from being poisoned here, there are other things in this castle. Is there any story to tell?" asked the count, "These cells are so ghastly that I can't believe that living people have been imprisoned here before. Is there any legend?"

"Yes, sir," said the porter, "Antony, the guard, told me a story about this cell."

Monte Cristo shivered involuntarily.This man named Antoine was the guard in charge of his cell at the beginning. Monte Cristo almost forgot the name and appearance of the guard. Now when he heard his name, Monte Cristo seemed to see the guard again, as if he saw him again. The bearded face, the brown coat and his big bunch of keys seemed to still be ringing in his ears.The count turned his back, and the shadow in the aisle was made even darker by the light of the torch in the porter's hand, and Monte Cristo thought he saw the guard again in a daze in the shadow.

"Would you like me to tell the story, sir?" asked the porter.

"Very well," said Monte Cristo, "tell me." He put his hand on his chest, trying to suppress his throbbing heart, and when he turned to listen to his own story, he could not help feeling terrified.

"This dark cell," continued the porter, "has shut up a prisoner a long time ago. It seems that the prisoner was a very dangerous man, all the more dangerous because of his cunning. There's another prisoner in the castle, and he's not a bad one. He's a poor priest, and he's gone mad."

"Ah! yes, a madman," said Monte Cristo; "how is he mad?"

"Whoever can let him out, he will give away millions."

Monte Cristo raised his eyes to the sky, but he could not see the vast sky, which was separated from him by a stone curtain.He thought that Elder Faria was willing to offer the treasure, but there was an equally thick screen between the eyes of those who heard him say that and the treasure he was about to offer. "May prisoners see each other?" asked Monte Cristo.

"Oh! No, sir, it is expressly forbidden, but they are visibly violating the prohibition, and have dug a secret passage between their dungeons."

"Which one of them dug this secret passage?"

"Oh! it's the young man, that's for sure," said the porter. "The young man is full of wit and good health; as for the poor old man, he is old and weak, and his mind is always in a trance. Yeah, I can't think of anything else."

"They are all blind!" murmured Monte Cristo to himself.

"Anyway," went on the porter, "the young man dug a secret passage. With what? No one knows, but he did it anyway, and it's all well-founded. The secret passage You can still see the traces of it. There, do you see it?" He held the torch against the wall.

"Ah! Sure enough," said the count, his voice hoarse with excitement.

"With the secret passage, the two prisoners can come and go. How long did they go back and forth? No one knows. Later, one day the old man fell ill and died. You guessed it, the young one What kind of tricks are you playing?" The gatekeeper deliberately stopped talking.

"Just tell me."

"He took the dead man away, put him on his bed, and let the dead man face the wall, and then he went back to the empty cell, blocked the secret passage, and got into the dead man's sack. You can see the idea Have you been?"

Monte Cristo closed his eyes.As soon as he got into the rough sack, he immediately felt the cold air left by the corpse on his face, and he couldn't help feeling a lot of emotion, but now he felt these feelings passing over his heart again.

The gatekeeper went on to say: "You see, he has this idea: he thinks that the dead are buried in the Château d'If, and he expects that the Château d'If will not spend money to buy a coffin for the prisoner, so he thinks he can use it." He climbed out of the mud with his shoulders. But unfortunately, there is an old rule in the Château d'If, which disrupted his plan. The Château d'If does not bury the dead, but tie a big iron ball on the foot of the dead, and then go to the sea Throw it away. This time it was his turn too, and the young man was thrown from the cliff into the sea. The real dead man was found in his bed the next day, so it was all clear, and the two collectors Confessed a fact which they had dared not tell, that they had just thrown the body out when they heard a terrible cry, but as soon as the body fell into the water the cry was choked and the body sank out of sight."

The Count was breathing with difficulty, his brow was dripping with sweat, and he felt depressed and oppressed. "No!" he murmured, "no! Just now I was doubtful, and it was because I was beginning to forget the past. Once here, my heart was torn again, and once again I longed for revenge. The prisoner," he said. Then he asked, "Have you heard what happened to him after that?"

"No, I've never heard of it. As you know, there are only two outcomes for him. One is that he falls flat on his body. Since he fell from a height of fifty feet, he fell to his death in one fell swoop. gone."

"You said just now that he had a big iron ball tied to his feet, so he must have fallen vertically."

"Another result is to fall vertically," the janitor continued, "such a heavy iron ball drags him down, and he sinks to the bottom and can't get out. How pitiful this man is!"

"Do you pity him?"

"Yes, although he has found his home, I still pity him."

"What do you mean he found a home?"

"It is rumored that this unfortunate man was originally a naval officer, and that he was imprisoned for his support of Napoleon."

"Truth," murmured the count, "God made you manifest through stormy seas and blazing seas. That is why people tell stories about the poor sailor. People sit before warm fires and tell of his terrible story. When they heard the story of how he fell from mid-air and fell into the deep sea, people couldn't help but be terrified. But doesn't anyone know what his name is?" The count then asked loudly.

"Ah! Of course I know," said the porter. "Well, I knew his name was No. 34 at the time."

"Villefort, Villefort," whispered Monte Cristo to himself, "this number must have been the one you were talking about when my presence made you sleepless!"

"Do you still want to look down, sir?" asked the doorman.

"Yes, it would be better if you would show me the poor elder's cell."

"Ah! Is that number 27?"

"Yes, number 27." Monte Cristo continued, and Elder Faria's voice sounded in his ears again, as if he was asking what the elder's name was, and it seemed that the elder was answering him loudly through the wall.

"plz follow me."

"Wait a moment," said Monte Cristo, "I want to take a good look at the cell again."

"That's all right," said the porter; "I just forgot the key to that cell."

"You go and get it."

"I'll leave you the torch."

"No, take it yourself."

"But you have no light here."

"I can see without light."

"Yo, you're just like him."

"Same as who?"

"That No. 34. People say that he is completely used to being in the dark place. He can see a needle drop in the darkest corner of his cell."

"It took him ten years to develop this ability!" said the count to himself.

The gatekeeper himself carried the torch and went away.The count was telling the truth, and within a few seconds he could see as clearly in the dark as in daylight.So he took a look around, and only then did he really recognize the black prison he stayed in back then.

(End of this chapter)