Chapter 77. Haydée
Scarcely had the count’s horses cleared the angle of the boulevard, whenAlbert, turning towards the count, burst into a loud fit oflaughter—much too loud in fact not to give the idea of its being ratherforced and unnatural.
“Well,” said he, “I will ask you the same question which Charles IX. putto Catherine de’ Medici, after the massacre of Saint Bartholomew: ‘Howhave I played my little part?’”
“To what do you allude?” asked Monte Cristo.
“To the installation of my rival at M. Danglars’.”
“What rival?”
“Ma foi! what rival? Why, your protégé, M. Andrea Cavalcanti!”
“Ah, no joking, viscount, if you please; I do not patronize M. Andrea—atleast, not as concerns M. Danglars.”
“And you would be to blame for not assisting him, if the young manreally needed your help in that quarter, but, happily for me, he candispense with it.”
“What, do you think he is paying his addresses?”
“I am certain of it; his languishing looks and modulated tones whenaddressing Mademoiselle Danglars fully proclaim his intentions. Heaspires to the hand of the proud Eugénie.”
“What does that signify, so long as they favor your suit?”
“But it is not the case, my dear count: on the contrary. I am repulsedon all sides.”
“What!”
“It is so indeed; Mademoiselle Eugénie scarcely answers me, andMademoiselle d’Armilly, her confidant, does not speak to me at all.”
“But the father has the greatest regard possible for you,” said MonteCristo.
“He? Oh, no, he has plunged a thousand daggers into my heart, tragedy-weapons, I own, which instead of wounding sheathe their points in theirown handles, but daggers which he nevertheless believed to be real anddeadly.”
“Jealousy indicates affection.”
“True; but I am not jealous.”
“He is.”
“Of whom?—of Debray?”
“No, of you.”
“Of me? I will engage to say that before a week is past the door will beclosed against me.”
“You are mistaken, my dear viscount.”
“Prove it to me.”
“Do you wish me to do so?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I am charged with the commission of endeavoring to induce theComte de Morcerf to make some definite arrangement with the baron.”
“By whom are you charged?”
“By the baron himself.”
“Oh,” said Albert with all the cajolery of which he was capable. “Yousurely will not do that, my dear count?”
“Certainly I shall, Albert, as I have promised to do it.”
“Well,” said Albert, with a sigh, “it seems you are determined to marryme.”
“I am determined to try and be on good terms with everybody, at allevents,” said Monte Cristo. “But apropos of Debray, how is it that Ihave not seen him lately at the baron’s house?”
“There has been a misunderstanding.”
“What, with the baroness?”
“No, with the baron.”
“Has he perceived anything?”
“Ah, that is a good joke!”
“Do you think he suspects?” said Monte Cristo with charming artlessness.
“Where have you come from, my dear count?” said Albert.
“From Congo, if you will.”
“It must be farther off than even that.”
“But what do I know of your Parisian husbands?”
“Oh, my dear count, husbands are pretty much the same everywhere; anindividual husband of any country is a pretty fair specimen of the wholerace.”
“But then, what can have led to the quarrel between Danglars and Debray?They seemed to understand each other so well,” said Monte Cristo withrenewed energy.
“Ah, now you are trying to penetrate into the mysteries of Isis, inwhich I am not initiated. When M. Andrea Cavalcanti has become one ofthe family, you can ask him that question.”
The carriage stopped.
“Here we are,” said Monte Cristo; “it is only half-past ten o’clock,come in.”
“Certainly, I will.”
“My carriage shall take you back.”
“No, thank you; I gave orders for my coupé to follow me.”
“There it is, then,” said Monte Cristo, as he stepped out of thecarriage. They both went into the house; the drawing-room was lightedup—they went in there. “You will make tea for us, Baptistin,” said thecount. Baptistin left the room without waiting to answer, and in twoseconds reappeared, bringing on a tray, all that his master had ordered,ready prepared, and appearing to have sprung from the ground, like therepasts which we read of in fairy tales.
“Really, my dear count,” said Morcerf, “what I admire in you is, not somuch your riches, for perhaps there are people even wealthier thanyourself, nor is it only your wit, for Beaumarchais might have possessedas much,—but it is your manner of being served, without any questions,in a moment, in a second; it is as if they guessed what you wanted byyour manner of ringing, and made a point of keeping everything you canpossibly desire in constant readiness.”
“What you say is perhaps true; they know my habits. For instance, youshall see; how do you wish to occupy yourself during tea-time?”
“Ma foi, I should like to smoke.”
Monte Cristo took the gong and struck it once. In about the space of asecond a private door opened, and Ali appeared, bringing two chibouquesfilled with excellent latakia.
“It is quite wonderful,” said Albert.
“Oh no, it is as simple as possible,” replied Monte Cristo. “Ali knows Igenerally smoke while I am taking my tea or coffee; he has heard that Iordered tea, and he also knows that I brought you home with me; when Isummoned him he naturally guessed the reason of my doing so, and as hecomes from a country where hospitality is especially manifested throughthe medium of smoking, he naturally concludes that we shall smoke incompany, and therefore brings two chibouques instead of one—and now themystery is solved.”
“Certainly you give a most commonplace air to your explanation, but itis not the less true that you——Ah, but what do I hear?” and Morcerfinclined his head towards the door, through which sounds seemed to issueresembling those of a guitar.
“Ma foi, my dear viscount, you are fated to hear music this evening; youhave only escaped from Mademoiselle Danglars’ piano, to be attacked byHaydée’s guzla.”
“Haydée—what an adorable name! Are there, then, really women who bearthe name of Haydée anywhere but in Byron’s poems?”
“Certainly there are. Haydée is a very uncommon name in France, but iscommon enough in Albania and Epirus; it is as if you said, for example,Chastity, Modesty, Innocence,—it is a kind of baptismal name, as youParisians call it.”
“Oh, that is charming,” said Albert, “how I should like to hear mycountrywomen called Mademoiselle Goodness, Mademoiselle Silence,Mademoiselle Christian Charity! Only think, then, if MademoiselleDanglars, instead of being called Claire-Marie-Eugénie, had been namedMademoiselle Chastity-Modesty-Innocence Danglars; what a fine effectthat would have produced on the announcement of her marriage!”
“Hush,” said the count, “do not joke in so loud a tone; Haydée may hearyou, perhaps.”
“And you think she would be angry?”
“No, certainly not,” said the count with a haughty expression.
“She is very amiable, then, is she not?” said Albert.
“It is not to be called amiability, it is her duty; a slave does notdictate to a master.”
“Come; you are joking yourself now. Are there any more slaves to be hadwho bear this beautiful name?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Really, count, you do nothing, and have nothing like other people. Theslave of the Count of Monte Cristo! Why, it is a rank of itself inFrance, and from the way in which you lavish money, it is a place thatmust be worth a hundred
thousand francs a year.”
“A hundred thousand francs! The poor girl originally possessed much morethan that; she was born to treasures in comparison with which thoserecorded in the Thousand and One Nights would seem but poverty.”
“She must be a princess then.”
“You are right; and she is one of the greatest in her country too.”
“I thought so. But how did it happen that such a great princess became aslave?”
“How was it that Dionysius the Tyrant became a schoolmaster? The fortuneof war, my dear viscount,—the caprice of fortune; that is the way inwhich these things are to be accounted for.”
“And is her name a secret?”
“As regards the generality of mankind it is; but not for you, my dearviscount, who are one of my most intimate friends, and on whose silenceI feel I may rely, if I consider it necessary to enjoin it—may I not doso?”
“Certainly; on my word of honor.”
“You know the history of the Pasha of Yanina, do you not?”
“Of Ali Tepelini?13 Oh, yes; it was in his service that my father madehis fortune.”
“True, I had forgotten that.”
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“Well, what is Haydée to Ali Tepelini?”
“Merely his daughter.”
“What? the daughter of Ali Pasha?”
“Of Ali Pasha and the beautiful Vasiliki.”
“And your slave?”
“Ma foi, yes.”
“But how did she become so?”
“Why, simply from the circumstance of my having bought her one day, as Iwas passing through the market at Constantinople.”
“Wonderful! Really, my dear count, you seem to throw a sort of magicinfluence over all in which you are concerned; when I listen to you,existence no longer seems reality, but a waking dream. Now, I am perhapsgoing to make an imprudent and thoughtless request, but——”
“Say on.”
“But, since you go out with Haydée, and sometimes even take her to theOpera——”
“Well?”
“I think I may venture to ask you this favor.”
“You may venture to ask me anything.”
“Well then, my dear count, present me to your princess.”
“I will do so; but on two conditions.”
“I accept them at once.”
“The first is, that you will never tell anyone that I have granted theinterview.”
“Very well,” said Albert, extending his hand; “I swear I will not.”
“The second is, that you will not tell her that your father ever servedhers.”
“I give you my oath that I will not.”
“Enough, viscount; you will remember those two vows, will you not? But Iknow you to be a man of honor.”
The count again struck the gong. Ali reappeared. “Tell Haydée,” said he,“that I will take coffee with her, and give her to understand that Idesire permission to present one of my friends to her.”
Ali bowed and left the room.
“Now, understand me,” said the count, “no direct questions, my dearMorcerf; if you wish to know anything, tell me, and I will ask her.”
“Agreed.”
Ali reappeared for the third time, and drew back the tapestried hangingwhich concealed the door, to signify to his master and Albert that theywere at liberty to pass on.
“Let us go in,” said Monte Cristo.
Albert passed his hand through his hair, and curled his moustache, then,having satisfied himself as to his personal appearance, followed thecount into the room, the latter having previously resumed his hat andgloves. Ali was stationed as a kind of advanced guard, and the door waskept by the three French attendants, commanded by Myrtho.
Haydée was awaiting her visitors in the first room of her apartments,which was the drawing-room. Her large eyes were dilated with surpriseand expectation, for it was the first time that any man, except MonteCristo, had been accorded an entrance into her presence. She was sittingon a sofa placed in an angle of the room, with her legs crossed underher in the Eastern fashion, and seemed to have made for herself, as itwere, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks which enveloped her. Nearher was the instrument on which she had just been playing; it waselegantly fashioned, and worthy of its mistress. On perceiving MonteCristo, she arose and welcomed him with a smile peculiar to herself,expressive at once of the most implicit obedience and also of thedeepest love. Monte Cristo advanced towards her and extended his hand,which she as usual raised to her lips.
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Albert had proceeded no farther than the door, where he remained rootedto the spot, being completely fascinated by the sight of such surpassingbeauty, beheld as it was for the first time, and of which an inhabitantof more northern climes could form no adequate idea.
“Whom do you bring?” asked the young girl in Romaic, of Monte Cristo;“is it a friend, a brother, a simple acquaintance, or an enemy.”
“A friend,” said Monte Cristo in the same language.
“What is his name?”
“Count Albert; it is the same man whom I rescued from the hands of thebanditti at Rome.”
“In what language would you like me to converse with him?”
Monte Cristo turned to Albert. “Do you know modern Greek,” asked he.
“Alas! no,” said Albert; “nor even ancient Greek, my dear count; neverhad Homer or Plato a more unworthy scholar than myself.”
“Then,” said Haydée, proving by her remark that she had quite understoodMonte Cristo’s question and Albert’s answer, “then I will speak eitherin French or Italian, if my lord so wills it.”
Monte Cristo reflected one instant. “You will speak in Italian,” saidhe.
Then, turning towards Albert,—“It is a pity you do not understand eitherancient or modern Greek, both of which Haydée speaks so fluently; thepoor child will be obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will giveyou but a very false idea of her powers of conversation.”
The count made a sign to Haydée to address his visitor. “Sir,” she saidto Morcerf, “you are most welcome as the friend of my lord and master.”This was said in excellent Tuscan, and with that soft Roman accent whichmakes the language of Dante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turningto Ali, she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he had leftthe room to execute the orders of his young mistress she beckoned Albertto approach nearer to her. Monte Cristo and Morcerf drew their seatstowards a small table, on which were arranged music, drawings, and vasesof flowers. Ali then entered bringing coffee and chibouques; as to M.Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted to him. Albertrefused the pipe which the Nubian offered him.
“Oh, take it—take it,” said the count; “Haydée is almost as civilized asa Parisian; the smell of a Havana is disagreeable to her, but thetobacco of the East is a most delicious perfume, you know.”
Ali left the room. The cups of coffee were all prepared, with theaddition of sugar, which had been brought for Albert. Monte Cristo andHaydée took the beverage in the original Arabian manner, that is to say,without sugar. Haydée took the porcelain cup in her little slenderfingers and conveyed it to her mouth with all the innocent artlessnessof a child when eating or drinking something which it likes. At thismoment two women entered, bringing salvers filled with ices and sherbet,which they placed on two small tables appropriated to that purpose.
“My dear host, and you, signora,” said Albert, in Italian, “excuse myapparent stupidity. I am quite bewildered, and it is natural that itshould be so. Here I am in the heart of Paris; but a moment ago I heardthe rumbling of the omnibuses and the tinkling of the bells of thelemonade-sellers, and now I feel as if I were suddenly transported tothe East; not such as I have seen it, but such as my dreams have paintedit. Oh, signora, if I could but speak Greek, your conversation, added tothe fairy-scene which surrounds me, would furnish an evening of suchdelight as it would be impossible for me ever to forget.”
“I speak sufficient Italian to enable me to
converse with you, sir,”said Haydée quietly; “and if you like what is Eastern, I will do my bestto secure the gratification of your tastes while you are here.”
“On what subject shall I converse with her?” said Albert, in a low toneto Monte Cristo.
“Just what you please; you may speak of her country and of her youthfulreminiscences, or if you like it better you can talk of Rome, Naples, orFlorence.”
“Oh,” said Albert, “it is of no use to be in the company of a Greek ifone converses just in the same style as with a Parisian; let me speak toher of the East.”
“Do so then, for of all themes which you could choose that will be themost agreeable to her taste.”
Albert turned towards Haydée. “At what age did you leave Greece,signora?” asked he.
“I left it when I was but five years old,” replied Haydée.
“And have you any recollection of your country?”
“When I shut my eyes and think, I seem to see it all again. The mind cansee as well as the body. The body forgets sometimes; but the mind alwaysremembers.”
“And how far back into the past do your recollections extend?”
“I could scarcely walk when my mother, who was called Vasiliki, whichmeans royal,” said the young girl, tossing her head proudly, “took me bythe hand, and after putting in our purse all the money we possessed, wewent out, both covered with veils, to solicit alms for the prisoners,saying, ‘He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.’ Then when ourpurse was full we returned to the palace, and without saying a word tomy father, we sent it to the convent, where it was divided amongst theprisoners.”
“And how old were you at that time?”
“I was three years old,” said Haydée.
“Then you remember everything that went on about you from the time whenyou were three years old?” said Albert.
“Everything.”
“Count,” said Albert, in a low tone to Monte Cristo, “do allow thesignora to tell me something of her history. You prohibited mymentioning my father’s name to her, but perhaps she will allude to himof her own accord in the course of the recital, and you have no idea howdelighted I should be to hear our name pronounced by such beautifullips.”
Monte Cristo turned to Haydée, and with an expression of countenancewhich commanded her to pay the most implicit attention to his words, hesaid in Greek,—“Tell us the fate of your father; but neither the name ofthe traitor nor the treason.” Haydée sighed deeply, and a shade ofsadness clouded her beautiful brow.
“What are you saying to her?” said Morcerf in an undertone.
“I again reminded her that you were a friend, and that she need notconceal anything from you.”
“Then,” said Albert, “this pious pilgrimage in behalf of the prisonerswas your first remembrance; what is the next?”
“Oh, then I remember as if it were but yesterday sitting under the shadeof some sycamore-trees, on the borders of a lake, in the waters of whichthe trembling foliage was reflected as in a mirror. Under the oldest andthickest of these trees, reclining on cushions, sat my father; my motherwas at his feet, and I, childlike, amused myself by playing with hislong white beard which descended to his girdle, or with the diamond-hiltof the scimitar attached to his girdle. Then from time to time therecame to him an Albanian who said something to which I paid no attention,but which he always answered in the same tone of voice, either ‘Kill,’or ‘Pardon.’”
“It is very strange,” said Albert, “to hear such words proceed from themouth of anyone but an actress on the stage, and one needs constantly tobe saying to one’s self, ‘This is no fiction, it is all reality,’ inorder to believe it. And how does France appear in your eyes, accustomedas they have been to gaze on such enchanted scenes?”
“I think it is a fine country,” said Haydée, “but I see France as itreally is, because I look on it with the eyes of a woman; whereas my owncountry, which I can only judge of from the impression produced on mychildish mind, always seems enveloped in a vague atmosphere, which isluminous or otherwise, according as my remembrances of it are sad orjoyous.”
“So young,” said Albert, forgetting at the moment the Count’s commandthat he should ask no questions of the slave herself, “is it possiblethat you can have known what suffering is except by name?”
Haydée turned her eyes towards Monte Cristo, who, making at the sametime some imperceptible sign, murmured:
“Go on.”
“Nothing is ever so firmly impressed on the mind as the memory of ourearly childhood, and with the exception of the two scenes I have justdescribed to you, all my earliest reminiscences are fraught with deepestsadness.”
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“Speak, speak, signora,” said Albert, “I am listening with the mostintense delight and interest to all you say.”
Haydée answered his remark with a melancholy smile. “You wish me, then,to relate the history of my past sorrows?” said she.
“I beg you to do so,” replied Albert.
“Well, I was but four years old when one night I was suddenly awakenedby my mother. We were in the palace of Yanina; she snatched me from thecushions on which I was sleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hersfilled with tears. She took me away without speaking. When I saw herweeping I began to cry too. ‘Hush, child!’ said she. At other times inspite of maternal endearments or threats, I had with a child’s capricebeen accustomed to indulge my feelings of sorrow or anger by crying asmuch as I felt inclined; but on this occasion there was an intonation ofsuch extreme terror in my mother’s voice when she enjoined me tosilence, that I ceased crying as soon as her command was given. She boreme rapidly away.
“I saw then that we were descending a large staircase; around us wereall my mother’s servants carrying trunks, bags, ornaments, jewels,purses of gold, with which they were hurrying away in the greatestdistraction.
“Behind the women came a guard of twenty men armed with long guns andpistols, and dressed in the costume which the Greeks have assumed sincethey have again become a nation. You may imagine there was somethingstartling and ominous,” said Haydée, shaking her head and turning paleat the mere remembrance of the scene, “in this long file of slaves andwomen only half-aroused from sleep, or at least so they appeared to me,who was myself scarcely awake. Here and there on the walls of thestaircase, were reflected gigantic shadows, which trembled in theflickering light of the pine-torches till they seemed to reach to thevaulted roof above.
“‘Quick!’ said a voice at the end of the gallery. This voice madeeveryone bow before it, resembling in its effect the wind passing over afield of wheat, by its superior strength forcing every ear to yieldobeisance. As for me, it made me tremble. This voice was that of myfather. He came last, clothed in his splendid robes and holding in hishand the carbine which your emperor presented him. He was leaning on theshoulder of his favorite Selim, and he drove us all before him, as ashepherd would his straggling flock. My father,” said Haydée, raisingher head, “was that illustrious man known in Europe under the name ofAli Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and before whom Turkey trembled.”
Albert, without knowing why, started on hearing these words pronouncedwith such a haughty and dignified accent; it appeared to him as if therewas something supernaturally gloomy and terrible in the expression whichgleamed from the brilliant eyes of Haydée at this moment; she appearedlike a Pythoness evoking a spectre, as she recalled to his mind theremembrance of the fearful death of this man, to the news of which allEurope had listened with horror.
“Soon,” said Haydée, “we halted on our march, and found ourselves on theborders of a lake. My mother pressed me to her throbbing heart, and atthe distance of a few paces I saw my father, who was glancing anxiouslyaround. Four marble steps led down to the water’s edge, and below themwas a boat floating on the tide.
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“From where we stood I could see in the middle of the lake a large blankmass; it was the kiosk to which we were going. This kiosk appeared to meto be at a consi
derable distance, perhaps on account of the darkness ofthe night, which prevented any object from being more than partiallydiscerned. We stepped into the boat. I remember well that the oars madeno noise whatever in striking the water, and when I leaned over toascertain the cause I saw that they were muffled with the sashes of ourPalikares.14 Besides the rowers, the boat contained only the women, myfather, mother, Selim, and myself. The Palikares had remained on theshore of the lake, ready to cover our retreat; they were kneeling on thelowest of the marble steps, and in that manner intended making a rampartof the three others, in case of pursuit. Our bark flew before the wind.‘Why does the boat go so fast?’ asked I of my mother.
“‘Silence, child! Hush, we are flying!’ I did not understand. Why shouldmy father fly?—he, the all-powerful—he, before whom others wereaccustomed to fly—he, who had taken for his device,
‘They hate me; then they fear me!’ “It was, indeed, a flight which myfather was trying to effect. I have been told since that the garrison ofthe castle of Yanina, fatigued with long service——”
Here Haydée cast a significant glance at Monte Cristo, whose eyes hadbeen riveted on her countenance during the whole course of hernarrative. The young girl then continued, speaking slowly, like a personwho is either inventing or suppressing some feature of the history whichhe is relating.
“You were saying, signora,” said Albert, who was paying the mostimplicit attention to the recital, “that the garrison of Yanina,fatigued with long service——”
“Had treated with the Seraskier15 Kourchid, who had been sent by thesultan to gain possession of the person of my father; it was then thatAli Tepelini—after having sent to the sultan a French officer in whom hereposed great confidence—resolved to retire to the asylum which he hadlong before prepared for himself, and which he called kataphygion, orthe refuge.”
“And this officer,” asked Albert, “do you remember his name, signora?”
Monte Cristo exchanged a rapid glance with the young girl, which wasquite unperceived by Albert.
“No,” said she, “I do not remember it just at this moment; but if itshould occur to me presently, I will tell you.”
Albert was on the point of pronouncing his father’s name, when MonteCristo gently held up his finger in token of reproach; the young manrecollected his promise, and was silent.
“It was towards this kiosk that we were rowing. A ground floor,ornamented with arabesques, bathing its terraces in the water, andanother floor, looking on the lake, was all which was visible to theeye. But beneath the ground floor, stretching out into the island, was alarge subterranean cavern, to which my mother, myself, and the womenwere conducted. In this place were together 60,000 pouches and 200barrels; the pouches contained 25,000,000 of money in gold, and thebarrels were filled with 30,000 pounds of gunpowder.
“Near the barrels stood Selim, my father’s favorite, whom I mentioned toyou just now. He stood watch day and night with a lance provided with alighted slowmatch in his hand, and he had orders to blow upeverything—kiosk, guards, women, gold, and Ali Tepelini himself—at thefirst signal given by my father. I remember well that the slaves,convinced of the precarious tenure on which they held their lives,passed whole days and nights in praying, crying, and groaning. As forme, I can never forget the pale complexion and black eyes of the youngsoldier, and whenever the angel of death summons me to another world, Iam quite sure I shall recognize Selim. I cannot tell you how long weremained in this state; at that period I did not even know what timemeant. Sometimes, but very rarely, my father summoned me and my motherto the terrace of the palace; these were hours of recreation for me, asI never saw anything in the dismal cavern but the gloomy countenances ofthe slaves and Selim’s fiery lance. My father was endeavoring to piercewith his eager looks the remotest verge of the horizon, examiningattentively every black speck which appeared on the lake, while mymother, reclining by his side, rested her head on his shoulder, and Iplayed at his feet, admiring everything I saw with that unsophisticatedinnocence of childhood which throws a charm round objects insignificantin themselves, but which in its eyes are invested with the greatestimportance. The heights of Pindus towered above us; the castle of Yaninarose white and angular from the blue waters of the lake, and the immensemasses of black vegetation which, viewed in the distance, gave the ideaof lichens clinging to the rocks, were in reality gigantic fir-trees andmyrtles.
“One morning my father sent for us; my mother had been crying all thenight, and was very wretched; we found the pasha calm, but paler thanusual. ‘Take courage, Vasiliki,’ said he; ‘today arrives the firman ofthe master, and my fate will be decided. If my pardon be complete, weshall return triumphant to Yanina; if the news be inauspicious, we mustfly this night.’—‘But supposing our enemy should not allow us to do so?’said my mother. ‘Oh, make yourself easy on that head,’ said Ali,smiling; ‘Selim and his flaming lance will settle that matter. Theywould be glad to see me dead, but they would not like themselves to diewith me.’
“My mother only answered by sighs to consolations which she knew did notcome from my father’s heart. She prepared the iced water which he was inthe habit of constantly drinking,—for since his sojourn at the kiosk hehad been parched by the most violent fever,—after which she anointed hiswhite beard with perfumed oil, and lighted his chibouque, which hesometimes smoked for hours together, quietly watching the wreaths ofvapor that ascended in spiral clouds and gradually melted away in thesurrounding atmosphere. Presently he made such a sudden movement that Iwas paralyzed with fear. Then, without taking his eyes from the objectwhich had first attracted his attention, he asked for his telescope. Mymother gave it him, and as she did so, looked whiter than the marbleagainst which she leaned. I saw my father’s hand tremble. ‘Aboat!—two!—three!’ murmured my, father;—‘four!’ He then arose, seizinghis arms and priming his pistols. ‘Vasiliki,’ said he to my mother,trembling perceptibly, ‘the instant approaches which will decideeverything. In the space of half an hour we shall know the emperor’sanswer. Go into the cavern with Haydée.’—‘I will not quit you,’ saidVasiliki; ‘if you die, my lord, I will die with you.’—‘Go to Selim!’cried my father. ‘Adieu, my lord,’ murmured my mother, determiningquietly to await the approach of death. ‘Take away Vasiliki!’ said myfather to his Palikares.
“As for me, I had been forgotten in the general confusion; I ran towardAli Tepelini; he saw me hold out my arms to him, and he stooped down andpressed my forehead with his lips. Oh, how distinctly I remember thatkiss!—it was the last he ever gave me, and I feel as if it were stillwarm on my forehead. On descending, we saw through the lattice-workseveral boats which were gradually becoming more distinct to our view.At first they appeared like black specks, and now they looked like birdsskimming the surface of the waves. During this time, in the kiosk at myfather’s feet, were seated twenty Palikares, concealed from view by anangle of the wall and watching with eager eyes the arrival of the boats.They were armed with their long guns inlaid with mother-of-pearl andsilver, and cartridges in great numbers were lying scattered on thefloor. My father looked at his watch, and paced up and down with acountenance expressive of the greatest anguish. This was the scene whichpresented itself to my view as I quitted my father after that last kiss.
“My mother and I traversed the gloomy passage leading to the cavern.Selim was still at his post, and smiled sadly on us as we entered. Wefetched our cushions from the other end of the cavern, and sat down bySelim. In great dangers the devoted ones cling to each other; and, youngas I was, I quite understood that some imminent danger was hanging overour heads.”
Albert had often heard—not from his father, for he never spoke on thesubject, but from strangers—the description of the last moments of thevizier of Yanina; he had read different accounts of his death, but thestory seemed to acquire fresh meaning from the voice and expression ofthe young girl, and her sympathetic accent and the melancholy expressionof her countenance at once charmed and horrified him.
As to H
aydée, these terrible reminiscences seemed to have overpoweredher for a moment, for she ceased speaking, her head leaning on her handlike a beautiful flower bowing beneath the violence of the storm; andher eyes gazing on vacancy indicated that she was mentally contemplatingthe green summit of the Pindus and the blue waters of the lake ofYanina, which, like a magic mirror, seemed to reflect the sombre picturewhich she sketched. Monte Cristo looked at her with an indescribableexpression of interest and pity.
“Go on, my child,” said the count in the Romaic language.
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Haydée looked up abruptly, as if the sonorous tones of Monte Cristo’svoice had awakened her from a dream; and she resumed her narrative.
“It was about four o’clock in the afternoon, and although the day wasbrilliant out-of-doors, we were enveloped in the gloomy darkness of thecavern. One single, solitary light was burning there, and it appearedlike a star set in a heaven of blackness; it was Selim’s flaming lance.My mother was a Christian, and she prayed. Selim repeated from time totime the sacred words: ‘God is great!’ However, my mother had still somehope. As she was coming down, she thought she recognized the Frenchofficer who had been sent to Constantinople, and in whom my fatherplaced so much confidence; for he knew that all the soldiers of theFrench emperor were naturally noble and generous. She advanced somesteps towards the staircase, and listened. ‘They are approaching,’ saidshe; ‘perhaps they bring us peace and liberty!’
“‘What do you fear, Vasiliki?’ said Selim, in a voice at once so gentleand yet so proud. ‘If they do not bring us peace, we will give them war;if they do not bring life, we will give them death.’ And he renewed theflame of his lance with a gesture which made one think of Dionysus ofold Crete.16 But I, being only a little child, was terrified by thisundaunted courage, which appeared to me both ferocious and senseless,and I recoiled with horror from the idea of the frightful death amidstfire and flames which probably awaited us.
“My mother experienced the same sensations, for I felt her tremble.‘Mamma, mamma,’ said I, ‘are we really to be killed?’ And at the soundof my voice the slaves redoubled their cries and prayers andlamentations. ‘My child,’ said Vasiliki, ‘may God preserve you from everwishing for that death which today you so much dread!’ Then, whisperingto Selim, she asked what were her master’s orders. ‘If he send me hisponiard, it will signify that the emperor’s intentions are notfavorable, and I am to set fire to the powder; if, on the contrary, hesend me his ring, it will be a sign that the emperor pardons him, and Iam to extinguish the match and leave the magazine untouched.’—‘Myfriend,’ said my mother, ‘when your master’s orders arrive, if it is theponiard which he sends, instead of despatching us by that horrible deathwhich we both so much dread, you will mercifully kill us with this sameponiard, will you not?’—‘Yes, Vasiliki,’ replied Selim tranquilly.
“Suddenly we heard loud cries; and, listening, discerned that they werecries of joy. The name of the French officer who had been sent toConstantinople resounded on all sides amongst our Palikares; it wasevident that he brought the answer of the emperor, and that it wasfavorable.”
“And do you not remember the Frenchman’s name?” said Morcerf, quiteready to aid the memory of the narrator. Monte Cristo made a sign to himto be silent.
“I do not recollect it,” said Haydée.
“The noise increased; steps were heard approaching nearer and nearer;they were descending the steps leading to the cavern. Selim made readyhis lance. Soon a figure appeared in the gray twilight at the entranceof the cave, formed by the reflection of the few rays of daylight whichhad found their way into this gloomy retreat. ‘Who are you?’ criedSelim. ‘But whoever you may be, I charge you not to advance anotherstep.’—‘Long live the emperor!’ said the figure. ‘He grants a fullpardon to the Vizier Ali, and not only gives him his life, but restoresto him his fortune and his possessions.’ My mother uttered a cry of joy,and clasped me to her bosom. ‘Stop,’ said Selim, seeing that she wasabout to go out; ‘you see I have not yet received the ring,’—‘True,’said my mother. And she fell on her knees, at the same time holding meup towards heaven, as if she desired, while praying to God in my behalf,to raise me actually to his presence.”
And for the second time Haydée stopped, overcome by such violent emotionthat the perspiration stood upon her pale brow, and her stifled voiceseemed hardly able to find utterance, so parched and dry were her throatand lips.
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Monte Cristo poured a little iced water into a glass, and presented itto her, saying with a mildness in which was also a shade ofcommand,—“Courage.”
Haydée dried her eyes, and continued:
“By this time our eyes, habituated to the darkness, had recognized themessenger of the pasha,—it was a friend. Selim had also recognized him,but the brave young man only acknowledged one duty, which was to obey.‘In whose name do you come?’ said he to him. ‘I come in the name of ourmaster, Ali Tepelini.’—‘If you come from Ali himself,’ said Selim, ‘youknow what you were charged to remit to me?’—‘Yes,’ said the messenger,‘and I bring you his ring.’ At these words he raised his hand above hishead, to show the token; but it was too far off, and there was not lightenough to enable Selim, where he was standing, to distinguish andrecognize the object presented to his view. ‘I do not see what you havein your hand,’ said Selim. ‘Approach then,’ said the messenger, ‘or Iwill come nearer to you, if you prefer it.’—‘I will agree to neither onenor the other,’ replied the young soldier; ‘place the object which Idesire to see in the ray of light which shines there, and retire while Iexamine it.’—‘Be it so,’ said the envoy; and he retired, after havingfirst deposited the token agreed on in the place pointed out to him bySelim.
“Oh, how our hearts palpitated; for it did, indeed, seem to be a ringwhich was placed there. But was it my father’s ring? that was thequestion. Selim, still holding in his hand the lighted match, walkedtowards the opening in the cavern, and, aided by the faint light whichstreamed in through the mouth of the cave, picked up the token.
“‘It is well,’ said he, kissing it; ‘it is my master’s ring!’ Andthrowing the match on the ground, he trampled on it and extinguished it.The messenger uttered a cry of joy and clapped his hands. At this signalfour soldiers of the Seraskier Kourchid suddenly appeared, and Selimfell, pierced by five blows. Each man had stabbed him separately, and,intoxicated by their crime, though still pale with fear, they sought allover the cavern to discover if there was any fear of fire, after whichthey amused themselves by rolling on the bags of gold. At this moment mymother seized me in her arms, and hurrying noiselessly along numerousturnings and windings known only to ourselves, she arrived at a privatestaircase of the kiosk, where was a scene of frightful tumult andconfusion. The lower rooms were entirely filled with Kourchid’s troops;that is to say, with our enemies. Just as my mother was on the point ofpushing open a small door, we heard the voice of the pasha sounding in aloud and threatening tone. My mother applied her eye to the crackbetween the boards; I luckily found a small opening which afforded me aview of the apartment and what was passing within. ‘What do you want?’said my father to some people who were holding a paper inscribed withcharacters of gold. ‘What we want,’ replied one, ‘is to communicate toyou the will of his highness. Do you see this firman?’—‘I do,’ said myfather. ‘Well, read it; he demands your head.’
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“My father answered with a loud laugh, which was more frightful thaneven threats would have been, and he had not ceased when two reports ofa pistol were heard; he had fired them himself, and had killed two men.The Palikares, who were prostrated at my father’s feet, now sprang upand fired, and the room was filled with fire and smoke. At the sameinstant the firing began on the other side, and the balls penetrated theboards all round us. Oh, how noble did the grand vizier my father lookat that moment, in the midst of the flying bullets, his scimitar in hishand, and his face blackened with the powder of his enemies! and how heterrified
them, even then, and made them fly before him! ‘Selim, Selim!’cried he, ‘guardian of the fire, do your duty!’—‘Selim is dead,’ replieda voice which seemed to come from the depths of the earth, ‘and you arelost, Ali!’ At the same moment an explosion was heard, and the flooringof the room in which my father was sitting was suddenly torn up andshivered to atoms—the troops were firing from underneath. Three or fourPalikares fell with their bodies literally ploughed with wounds.
“My father howled aloud, plunged his fingers into the holes which theballs had made, and tore up one of the planks entire. But immediatelythrough this opening twenty more shots were fired, and the flame,rushing up like fire from the crater of a volcano, soon reached thetapestry, which it quickly devoured. In the midst of all this frightfultumult and these terrific cries, two reports, fearfully distinct,followed by two shrieks more heartrending than all, froze me withterror. These two shots had mortally wounded my father, and it was hewho had given utterance to these frightful cries. However, he remainedstanding, clinging to a window. My mother tried to force the door, thatshe might go and die with him, but it was fastened on the inside. Allaround him were lying the Palikares, writhing in convulsive agonies,while two or three who were only slightly wounded were trying to escapeby springing from the windows. At this crisis the whole flooringsuddenly gave way, my father fell on one knee, and at the same momenttwenty hands were thrust forth, armed with sabres, pistols, andponiards—twenty blows were instantaneously directed against one man, andmy father disappeared in a whirlwind of fire and smoke kindled by thesedemons, and which seemed like hell itself opening beneath his feet. Ifelt myself fall to the ground, my mother had fainted.”
Haydée’s arms fell by her side, and she uttered a deep groan, at thesame time looking towards the count as if to ask if he were satisfiedwith her obedience to his commands.
Monte Cristo arose and approached her, took her hand, and said to her inRomaic:
“Calm yourself, my dear child, and take courage in remembering thatthere is a God who will punish traitors.”
“It is a frightful story, count,” said Albert, terrified at the palenessof Haydée’s countenance, “and I reproach myself now for having been socruel and thoughtless in my request.”
“Oh, it is nothing,” said Monte Cristo. Then, patting the young girl onthe head, he continued, “Haydée is very courageous, and she sometimeseven finds consolation in the recital of her misfortunes.”
“Because, my lord,” said Haydée eagerly, “my miseries recall to me theremembrance of your goodness.”
Albert looked at her with curiosity, for she had not yet related what hemost desired to know,—how she had become the slave of the count. Haydéesaw at a glance the same expression pervading the countenances of hertwo auditors; she continued:
“When my mother recovered her senses we were before the seraskier.‘Kill,’ said she, ‘but spare the honor of the widow of Ali.’—‘It is notto me to whom you must address yourself,’ said Kourchid.
“‘To whom, then?’—‘To your new master.’
“‘Who and where is he?’—‘He is here.’
“And Kourchid pointed out one who had more than any contributed to thedeath of my father,” said Haydée, in a tone of chastened anger.
“Then,” said Albert, “you became the property of this man?”
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“No,” replied Haydée, “he did not dare to keep us, so we were sold tosome slave-merchants who were going to Constantinople. We traversedGreece, and arrived half dead at the imperial gates. They weresurrounded by a crowd of people, who opened a way for us to pass, whensuddenly my mother, having looked closely at an object which wasattracting their attention, uttered a piercing cry and fell to theground, pointing as she did so to a head which was placed over thegates, and beneath which were inscribed these words:
‘This is the head of Ali Tepelini, Pasha of Yanina.’
“I cried bitterly, and tried to raise my mother from the earth, but shewas dead! I was taken to the slave-market, and was purchased by a richArmenian. He caused me to be instructed, gave me masters, and when I wasthirteen years of age he sold me to the Sultan Mahmoud.”
“Of whom I bought her,” said Monte Cristo, “as I told you, Albert, withthe emerald which formed a match to the one I had made into a box forthe purpose of holding my hashish pills.”
“Oh, you are good, you are great, my lord!” said Haydée, kissing thecount’s hand, “and I am very fortunate in belonging to such a master!”
Albert remained quite bewildered with all that he had seen and heard.
“Come, finish your cup of coffee,” said Monte Cristo; “the history isended.”
The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated Page 78