World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 85 Unlimited Credit (1)
About two o'clock in the afternoon of the next day, an open carriage, drawn by two English horses, pulled up to the door of Monte Cristo's house.The person in the car was wearing a blue jacket with the same blue silk buttons, a snow-white vest with a thick gold chain hanging on it, light brown trousers, black hair that was pressed down to the eyebrows, but could not be covered. Because of the wrinkles on the face, the hair does not seem to match the face, making people hard to believe that it is real hair.This person looks 50-55 years old, but wants to look like 40 years old.A baronial diadem was painted on the fender of the carriage, when the man, thrusting his head out of the door, ordered the boy to ask the porter if the Count of Monte Cristo was at home.

While waiting for the family boy to inquire, the man looked towards the small building, looking very carefully, almost to the point of being rude.He glanced at everything in the garden that he could see, and the servants who walked back and forth, all in livery, he also looked at everything he could see.This person's eyeballs were rolling, and he was more treacherous than shrewd.The two thin lips did not bulge out, but shrunk inward, tightly attached to the mouth.In addition, his cheekbones are wide and high, which can be seen at a glance, and there is no doubt that this person is slippery and smooth, while his forehead is flat and flat, but the back of the skull is raised back, which is very obvious. Fat and big, not very delicate behind the ears.Anyone who knows physiognomy can tell by looking at this face that although this man has a fine horse, a big diamond pinned to his shirt, and a bright red ribbon wrapped around the buttonholes of his jacket, the ordinary people think he is great, but he is actually almost as ugly as a dog. .

The boy knocked on the window of the door, and asked: "Excuse me, does the Count of Monte Cristo live here?"

"Your Excellency is staying here," replied the porter, "but..." He looked again at Ali, who only shook his head.

"But what?" the house boy asked.

"Your Excellency will not be visiting at present," replied the porter.

"Then please accept my master's business card. He is Baron Tanglar. Please pass it on to the Count of Monte Cristo, and tell him that my master is on his way to the House of Representatives to pay a detour to visit the Count."

"I have nothing to say to Your Excellency," said the porter, "this matter must be reported by the valet."

The house boy turned and walked towards the carriage. "How is it?" Tangra asked.The young house boy felt ashamed, and looked a little embarrassed, and told the master what the concierge had said. "Oh," said Tangra, "this gentleman is more like a prince. You have to call him your lord, and you have to report it to your personal servant. It doesn't matter. Since his credit card is with me, when will he use the money?" , I will always see him." So Tangra leaned against the corner of the carriage and shouted to the coachman: "Go to the House of Representatives!" The shout was clearly heard even across the street.

In fact, Monte Cristo had been informed in time that he had seen the Baron through the blackout curtains in his suite, and having picked up his fine opera glasses, he had examined the Baron with as much detail as Mr Tanglar's gaze at the small building, the garden, and the servants in livery. "Indeed," he said, pressing the barrel of the binoculars into his ivory coat, and waving his hand in disgust, "indeed, the man was very ugly. The flat forehead was like a snake, and the protruding He has a raised head like a vulture, and a thin, pointed beak like a vulture, why can't people see it? Ali!" he yelled, and then knocked on the brass bell again.Ali rushed over. "Go and call Beticio," he said, and Beticio had walked in before he finished speaking.

"Did Your Excellency call me?" said the steward.

"Yes, sir," said the count. "Did you see the two horses that stopped at my door just now?"

"I see, Your Excellency, I even noticed that these are all fine horses."

"What's the matter?" said Monte Cristo, frowning, "I told you to buy the two best horses in Paris, but there are two horses in Paris as good as mine, and they are not in my stables? "

Seeing the earl frowning and speaking so harshly, Ali quickly lowered his head. "It's not your fault, my good Ali." The earl said in Arabic, his words were very gentle, but there was no trace of gentleness in the earl's voice and face. "You don't know English horses." Ali A calm look returned to his face.

"Monsieur Count," said Berticio, "the two horses you speak of are not for sale."

Monte Cristo shrugged his shoulders. "You should know, Mr. Steward, that anyone who is willing to bid can buy anything."

"Monsieur Tanglar bought these two horses for sixteen thousand francs, Monsieur Count."

"Well, you can give him 3.2. He is a banker, and a banker never misses the opportunity to double his capital."

"Is that true, Monsieur Count?" asked Beticio.

Monte Cristo glanced at the butler, as if surprised that such a question should be put to him. "I'm going to call this evening," he said, "and I want these two horses to be harnessed to my cart, with new harnesses."

Beticio bowed and stepped back, but stopped at the door and said, "What time do you plan to visit?"

"Five o'clock," said Monte Cristo.

"Attention, Your Excellency, it is now two o'clock in the afternoon." The butler said boldly.

"I know." Monte Cristo replied lightly, then turned to Ali and said, "Let all the horses be shown to Madam, let her choose the most suitable one for her carriage, and then ask her to answer, Would you like to dine with me, and if you do, use it at her place. You go, go down and call up the personal servant."

Not long after Ali left, his personal servant came over.

"Mr. Baptistan," said the count, "you have been serving me for a year. Usually, this is the time I spend investigating my subordinates. I am satisfied with you." Baptistan bowed, "But I have to You know, am I also in your favor?"

"Ah, Monsieur Earl!" Baptistan said hastily.

"Listen to me," continued the count, "you can get fifteen hundred francs a year, which is no more than the salary of a good and brave officer who lives and dies every day. Your food is just what many section chiefs can't ask for. Yes, but these poor civil servants are infinitely busier than you. You are a servant yourself, but you have other servants who look after your clothes and odds and ends. In addition to the salary of 1500 francs, you are buying cosmetics for me. It earns me another nearly fifteen hundred francs a year."

"Oh, sir!"

"I have nothing to complain about, Mr. Baptistan, and it's not too much. But, I hope it's over. You can't have such good fortune, anywhere, to find such a job. My men Never hit, never scold, I never get angry, I can always forgive mistakes, but never allow carelessness, neglect of duty. My orders are usually short, clear, and precise. I would rather give orders twice, or even three times, But don't take me wrong. I've got enough money to know all I want to know, and, I may as well mention to you, I'm curious too. If I catch you gossiping with me behind my back, Talk about my behavior, or monitor my actions, you have to leave me immediately. I will only warn the servant once, you have to take care of yourself, you can go now!"

Baptistan bowed, took three or four steps back and was about to step back. "Also," the count continued, "I forgot to tell you that every year I deposit a sum of money on the head of my servants. Of course, those who I dismiss will not get this money, only those who stay will have a share. Wait for me You can enjoy it after death. You have been with me for a year, and you have begun to have your own property, which must continue to increase."

This was said in Ali's presence, but he remained expressionless throughout because he could not understand French.However, it had an effect on Batistein. Anyone who has studied the psychology of French servants will know what kind of effect this is. "I will try to do as Your Excellency wishes," said Baptistan, "and, moreover, I will follow Mr. Ali's example."

"Oh, that's not necessary," said the count coldly. "Ali has his strengths, but he also has many faults. He cannot be used as a model, because Ali is purely an exception. He has no wages, and he is not a servant. My slave, my dog! If he doesn't do his job, I don't drive him out, I kill him."

Baptistan's eyes widened involuntarily. "You don't believe it?" said Monte Cristo.He repeated to Ali in Arabic what he had just said to Battistan in French.Ali smiled slightly after listening, then walked towards the master, knelt down on one leg, and respectfully kissed the master's hand.After a few warnings, the result turned out to be like this, and Batistein couldn't help but keep silent.

The Count signaled to Baptistan to go, and called Ali to come with him, and they went into the study together, where they talked for a long time. At five o'clock the count struck the bell three times, once for Ali, twice for Battistan, and third for Beticio.The butler came in.

"How is my horse?" said Monte Cristo.

"The carriage is harnessed, my lord," replied Beticio. "Would the Count wish me to accompany him?"

"No, as long as the coachman, Battistan and Ali follow me."

The count went downstairs and saw that the horses harnessed to his carriage were exactly the two horses he had seen harnessed to the Tangra carriage during the day, which he admired very much.He glanced at the horse as he passed by. "A fine horse indeed," he said. "You did a good job, but a little late."

"Your Excellency," said Berticio, "these two horses are not easy to buy, and they are very expensive."

"Isn't the horse beautiful when the price is high?" the count asked with a shrug.

"As long as your Excellency is satisfied," said Berticio, "you can say anything else. Where is your Excellency going?"

"The mansion of Baron Tangla on Angtan Road."

They were all standing on the front steps of the building while they were talking, when Beticio took a step down to the next step.

"Wait a minute, monsieur," said Monte Cristo, holding him back, "I want a place on the coast of Normandy, between Le Havre and Boulogne, for example. You see, I offer you a wide range. Purchase The real estate must have a small harbor, a small bay, so that my boat can come in and drop anchor. The draft of this boat is only 15 feet, and it must be ready to go to sea at any time. No matter what time of day or night, as long as I command it, it can sail. You follow what I just said For the conditions mentioned, ask real estate notaries everywhere, and then go to the field to have a look. If you are satisfied, buy it in your name. The boat should set off for Fécamp now, right?"

"The evening we left Marseilles, I saw the dinghy already out to sea."

"And what about the yacht?"

"At anchor at Martigues as ordered."

"Very good! You keep in touch with the two captains, lest they sleep with their heads covered."

"What about the steamboat?"

"Isn't it in Xialong?"

"Yes."

"Like the two sailing ships, follow this order."

"Yes."

"After the real estate is bought, you will set up a post station every ten miles on the north and south roads."

"Your Excellency, leave it to me."

With a satisfied look on his face, the count descended the steps and jumped into the carriage.The two horses trotted along the cart and stopped in front of the banker's mansion.

Tangra was presiding over the meeting of a committee set up to build a railway, and the servants came to announce the visit of the Count of Monte Cristo, and the meeting was almost over.Upon hearing the count's name, Tangra stood up. "Gentlemen," he said to his colleagues, many of whom were members of the House of Representatives or the Senate, "I beg your pardon for my resignation, but do you know that Thomson and French of Rome have introduced me to a The client, the Count of Monte Cristo, wants to open an account with unlimited credit for him. This kind of joke can be described as weird and bizarre. Although my clients are all over the world, such strange things have never happened before. Of course, I think you can also understand Understood, I couldn't help being curious, and I am still amazed to this day. I stopped by this so-called Lord Earl today during the day. If he was a real Earl, as you all know, he couldn't be so rich.' Mr. No guest, 'what do you think of this? Isn't this Monsieur Monte Cristo just putting on the airs of His Royal Highness or Belle Fonda? Besides, he lives on the Champs-Elysées, and his house, when I inquired, is indeed His own property. However, an unlimited credit account," Tangla said with a sinister smile on his face, "is very difficult for the banker who agrees to open the account. Therefore, I am eager to meet this gentleman. I think it might be fraudulent. But they are really ignorant, who are they dealing with? Don’t be too happy too soon.”

(End of this chapter)