The Count of Monte Cristo (Unabridged Penguin) by Alexandre Dumas Read Free Book Online Page A

there were very different expressions in these two pairs of eyes following the one man.

II
FATHER AND SON

    We shall leave Danglars, gripped by the demon of hatred, trying to poison the shipowner’s ear with some malicious libel against his comrade, and follow Dantès who, after walking along the Canebière, took the Rue de Noailles, entered a small house on the left side of the Allées de Meilhan and hastened up the four flights of a dark stairway. There, holding the banister with one hand, while the other repressed the beating of his heart, he stopped before a half-open door through which he could see to the back of a small room.
    In this room lived Dantès’ father.
    News of the arrival of the
Pharaon
had not yet reached the old man who was standing on a chair, engaged with trembling hands in pinning up some nasturtiums and clematis that climbed across the trellis outside his window. Suddenly, he felt himself grasped around the waist and a well-known voice exclaim behind him: ‘Father! My dear father!’
    The old man cried out and turned around; then, seeing his son, fell into his arms, pale and trembling.
    ‘What is it, father?’ the young man exclaimed, with concern. ‘Are you unwell?’
    ‘No, no, dear Edmond, my son, my child. No, but I was not expecting you – and the joy, the shock of seeing you like this, unexpectedly… Oh, heavens! It is too much for me!’
    ‘Now, then, father, calm yourself! I am really here! They always say that joy cannot harm you, which is why I came in without warning. Come now, smile; don’t look at me like that, with those wild eyes. I am back and there is happiness in store for us.’
    ‘I’m pleased to hear it, my boy,’ the old man continued. ‘But what happiness? Are you going to stay with me from now on? Come, tell me about your good fortune!’
    ‘God forgive me,’ the young man said, ‘for rejoicing at good fortune which has brought grief to the family of another. But, God knows, I never wished for it; it has happened, and I do not have the heart to grieve at it. Our good Captain Leclère is dead, father, and it seems likely that, thanks to Monsieur Morrel’s support, I shall have his command. Do you understand, father? A captain attwenty! With a salary of a hundred
louis
1 and a share in the profits! Isn’t that better than a poor sailor like myself could expect?’
    ‘Yes, my son, yes,’ said the old man. ‘This is indeed a stroke of luck.’
    ‘So I want you to have a little house, with the first money I earn, and a garden to grow your clematis, your nasturtiums and your honeysuckle… But what’s wrong, father? You look ill!’
    ‘An instant, don’t worry! It is nothing.’ And, his strength failing him, he leant back.
    ‘Father!’ cried the young man. ‘Come, have a glass of wine; it will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?’
    ‘No, thank you, don’t bother to look for it; there is no need,’ he replied, trying to restrain his son.
    ‘Yes, indeed there is, father. Show me it.’ He opened one or two cupboards.
    ‘It’s a waste of time…’ the old man said. ‘There is no wine left.’
    ‘What! No wine!’ Dantès said, paling in turn as he looked from the old man’s sunken and livid cheeks to the empty cupboards. ‘What! You have no wine left? Have you been short of money, father?’
    ‘I am short of nothing, now that you are here,’ said the old man.
    ‘But I left you two hundred francs,’ Dantès stammered, wiping the sweat from his brow, ‘two months ago, as I was leaving.’
    ‘Yes, yes, Edmond, so you did; but when you left you forgot a small debt to my neighbour Caderousse. He reminded me of it and said that if I did not settle it on your behalf, he would go and reclaim it from Monsieur Morrel. So, you understand, I was afraid that it might do you some harm.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘And I paid it.’
    ‘But,’ Dantès exclaimed, ‘I owed Caderousse a hundred and forty francs!’
    ‘Yes,’ the old man mumbled.
    ‘And you