The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter 86. The Trial

  At eight o’clock in the morning Albert had arrived at Beauchamp’s door.The valet de chambre had received orders to usher him in at once.Beauchamp was in his bath.

  “Here I am,” Albert said.

  “Well, my poor friend,” replied Beauchamp, “I expected you.”

  “I need not say I think you are too faithful and too kind to have spokenof that painful circumstance. Your having sent for me is another proofof your affection. So, without losing time, tell me, have you theslightest idea whence this terrible blow proceeds?”

  “I think I have some clew.”

  “But first tell me all the particulars of this shameful plot.”

  Beauchamp proceeded to relate to the young man, who was overwhelmed withshame and grief, the following facts. Two days previously, the articlehad appeared in another paper besides l’Impartial, and, what was moreserious, one that was well known as a government paper. Beauchamp wasbreakfasting when he read the paragraph. He sent immediately for acabriolet, and hastened to the publisher’s office. Although professingdiametrically opposite principles from those of the editor of the otherpaper, Beauchamp—as it sometimes, we may say often, happens—was hisintimate friend. The editor was reading, with apparent delight, aleading article in the same paper on beet-sugar, probably a compositionof his own.

  “Ah, pardieu!” said Beauchamp, “with the paper in your hand, my friend,I need not tell you the cause of my visit.”

  “Are you interested in the sugar question?” asked the editor of theministerial paper.

  “No,” replied Beauchamp, “I have not considered the question; a totallydifferent subject interests me.”

  “What is it?”

  “The article relative to Morcerf.”

  “Indeed? Is it not a curious affair?”

  “So curious, that I think you are running a great risk of a prosecutionfor defamation of character.”

  “Not at all; we have received with the information all the requisiteproofs, and we are quite sure M. de Morcerf will not raise his voiceagainst us; besides, it is rendering a service to one’s country todenounce these wretched criminals who are unworthy of the honor bestowedon them.”

  Beauchamp was thunderstruck.

  “Who, then, has so correctly informed you?” asked he; “for my paper,which gave the first information on the subject, has been obliged tostop for want of proof; and yet we are more interested than you inexposing M. de Morcerf, as he is a peer of France, and we are of theopposition.”

  “Oh, that is very simple; we have not sought to scandalize. This newswas brought to us. A man arrived yesterday from Yanina, bringing aformidable array of documents; and when we hesitated to publish theaccusatory article, he told us it should be inserted in some otherpaper.”

  Beauchamp understood that nothing remained but to submit, and left theoffice to despatch a courier to Morcerf. But he had been unable to sendto Albert the following particulars, as the events had transpired afterthe messenger’s departure; namely, that the same day a great agitationwas manifest in the House of Peers among the usually calm members ofthat dignified assembly. Everyone had arrived almost before the usualhour, and was conversing on the melancholy event which was to attractthe attention of the public towards one of their most illustriouscolleagues. Some were perusing the article, others making comments andrecalling circumstances which substantiated the charges still more.

  The Count of Morcerf was no favorite with his colleagues. Like allupstarts, he had had recourse to a great deal of haughtiness to maintainhis position. The true nobility laughed at him, the talented repelledhim, and the honorable instinctively despised him. He was, in fact, inthe unhappy position of the victim marked for sacrifice; the finger ofGod once pointed at him, everyone was prepared to raise the hue and cry.

  The Count of Morcerf alone was ignorant of the news. He did not take inthe paper containing the defamatory article, and had passed the morningin writing letters and in trying a horse. He arrived at his usual hour,with a proud look and insolent demeanor; he alighted, passed through thecorridors, and entered the house without observing the hesitation of thedoor-keepers or the coolness of his colleagues.

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  Business had already been going on for half an hour when he entered.Everyone held the accusing paper, but, as usual, no one liked to takeupon himself the responsibility of the attack. At length an honorablepeer, Morcerf’s acknowledged enemy, ascended the tribune with thatsolemnity which announced that the expected moment had arrived. Therewas an impressive silence; Morcerf alone knew not why such profoundattention was given to an orator who was not always listened to with somuch complacency.

  The count did not notice the introduction, in which the speakerannounced that his communication would be of that vital importance thatit demanded the undivided attention of the House; but at the mention ofYanina and Colonel Fernand, he turned so frightfully pale that everymember shuddered and fixed his eyes upon him. Moral wounds have thispeculiarity,—they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful,always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in theheart.

  The article having been read during the painful hush that followed, auniversal shudder pervaded the assembly, and immediately the closestattention was given to the orator as he resumed his remarks. He statedhis scruples and the difficulties of the case; it was the honor of M. deMorcerf, and that of the whole House, he proposed to defend, byprovoking a debate on personal questions, which are always such painfulthemes of discussion. He concluded by calling for an investigation,which might dispose of the calumnious report before it had time tospread, and restore M. de Morcerf to the position he had long held inpublic opinion.

  Morcerf was so completely overwhelmed by this great and unexpectedcalamity that he could scarcely stammer a few words as he looked aroundon the assembly. This timidity, which might proceed from theastonishment of innocence as well as the shame of guilt, conciliatedsome in his favor; for men who are truly generous are always ready tocompassionate when the misfortune of their enemy surpasses the limits oftheir hatred.

  The president put it to the vote, and it was decided that theinvestigation should take place. The count was asked what time herequired to prepare his defence. Morcerf’s courage had revived when hefound himself alive after this horrible blow.

  “My lords,” answered he, “it is not by time I could repel the attackmade on me by enemies unknown to me, and, doubtless, hidden inobscurity; it is immediately, and by a thunderbolt, that I must repelthe flash of lightning which, for a moment, startled me. Oh, that Icould, instead of taking up this defence, shed my last drop of blood toprove to my noble colleagues that I am their equal in worth.”

  These words made a favorable impression on behalf of the accused.

  “I demand, then, that the examination shall take place as soon aspossible, and I will furnish the house with all necessary information.”

  “What day do you fix?” asked the president.

  “Today I am at your service,” replied the count.

  The president rang the bell. “Does the House approve that theexamination should take place today?”

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  “Yes,” was the unanimous answer.

  A committee of twelve members was chosen to examine the proofs broughtforward by Morcerf. The investigation would begin at eight o’clock thatevening in the committee-room, and if postponement were necessary, theproceedings would be resumed each evening at the same hour. Morcerfasked leave to retire; he had to collect the documents he had long beenpreparing against this storm, which his sagacity had foreseen.

  Beauchamp related to the young man all the facts we have just narrated;his story, however, had over ours all the advantage of the animation ofliving things over the coldness of dead things.

  Albert listened, trembling now with hope, then with anger, and thenagain with shame, for from Beauchamp’s confidence he knew his father wasguilty, and he asked himself how, since he was guilty, he could
provehis innocence. Beauchamp hesitated to continue his narrative.

  “What next?” asked Albert.

  “What next? My friend, you impose a painful task on me. Must you knowall?”

  “Absolutely; and rather from your lips than another’s.”

  “Muster up all your courage, then, for never have you required it more.”

  Albert passed his hand over his forehead, as if to try his strength, asa man who is preparing to defend his life proves his shield and bendshis sword. He thought himself strong enough, for he mistook fever forenergy. “Go on,” said he.

  “The evening arrived; all Paris was in expectation. Many said yourfather had only to show himself to crush the charge against him; manyothers said he would not appear; while some asserted that they had seenhim start for Brussels; and others went to the police-office to inquireif he had taken out a passport. I used all my influence with one of thecommittee, a young peer of my acquaintance, to get admission to one ofthe galleries. He called for me at seven o’clock, and, before anyone hadarrived, asked one of the door-keepers to place me in a box. I wasconcealed by a column, and might witness the whole of the terrible scenewhich was about to take place. At eight o’clock all were in theirplaces, and M. de Morcerf entered at the last stroke. He held somepapers in his hand; his countenance was calm, and his step firm, and hewas dressed with great care in his military uniform, which was buttonedcompletely up to the chin. His presence produced a good effect. Thecommittee was made up of Liberals, several of whom came forward to shakehands with him.”

  Albert felt his heart bursting at these particulars, but gratitudemingled with his sorrow: he would gladly have embraced those who hadgiven his father this proof of esteem at a moment when his honor was sopowerfully attacked.

  “At this moment one of the door-keepers brought in a letter for thepresident. ‘You are at liberty to speak, M. de Morcerf,’ said thepresident, as he unsealed the letter; and the count began his defence, Iassure you, Albert, in a most eloquent and skilful manner. He produceddocuments proving that the Vizier of Yanina had up to the last momenthonored him with his entire confidence, since he had interested him witha negotiation of life and death with the emperor. He produced the ring,his mark of authority, with which Ali Pasha generally sealed hisletters, and which the latter had given him, that he might, on hisreturn at any hour of the day or night, gain access to the presence,even in the harem. Unfortunately, the negotiation failed, and when hereturned to defend his benefactor, he was dead. ‘But,’ said the count,‘so great was Ali Pasha’s confidence, that on his death-bed he resignedhis favorite mistress and her daughter to my care.’”

  Albert started on hearing these words; the history of Haydée recurred tohim, and he remembered what she had said of that message and the ring,and the manner in which she had been sold and made a slave.

  “And what effect did this discourse produce?” anxiously inquired Albert.

  “I acknowledge it affected me, and, indeed, all the committee also,”said Beauchamp.

  “Meanwhile, the president carelessly opened the letter which had beenbrought to him; but the first lines aroused his attention; he read themagain and again, and fixing his eyes on M. de Morcerf, ‘Count,’ said he,‘you have said that the Vizier of Yanina confided his wife and daughterto your care?’—‘Yes, sir,’ replied Morcerf; ‘but in that, like all therest, misfortune pursued me. On my return, Vasiliki and her daughterHaydée had disappeared.’—‘Did you know them?’—‘My intimacy with thepasha and his unlimited confidence had gained me an introduction tothem, and I had seen them above twenty times.’

  “‘Have you any idea what became of them?’—‘Yes, sir; I heard they hadfallen victims to their sorrow, and, perhaps, to their poverty. I wasnot rich; my life was in constant danger; I could not seek them, to mygreat regret.’ The president frowned imperceptibly. ‘Gentlemen,’ saidhe, ‘you have heard the Comte de Morcerf’s defence. Can you, sir,produce any witnesses to the truth of what you have asserted?’—‘Alas,no, monsieur,’ replied the count; ‘all those who surrounded the vizier,or who knew me at his court, are either dead or gone away, I know notwhere. I believe that I alone, of all my countrymen, survived thatdreadful war. I have only the letters of Ali Tepelini, which I haveplaced before you; the ring, a token of his good-will, which is here;and, lastly, the most convincing proof I can offer, after an anonymousattack, and that is the absence of any witness against my veracity andthe purity of my military life.’

  “A murmur of approbation ran through the assembly; and at this moment,Albert, had nothing more transpired, your father’s cause had beengained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the presidentresumed: ‘Gentlemen and you, monsieur,—you will not be displeased, Ipresume, to listen to one who calls himself a very important witness,and who has just presented himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove theperfect innocence of our colleague. Here is a letter I have justreceived on the subject; shall it be read, or shall it be passed over?and shall we take no notice of this incident?’ M. de Morcerf turnedpale, and clenched his hands on the papers he held. The committeedecided to hear the letter; the count was thoughtful and silent. Thepresident read:

  “‘Mr. President,—I can furnish the committee of inquiry into the conductof the Lieutenant-General the Count of Morcerf in Epirus and inMacedonia with important particulars.’

  “The president paused, and the count turned pale. The president lookedat his auditors. ‘Proceed,’ was heard on all sides. The presidentresumed:

  “‘I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pasha. I was present during hislast moments. I know what is become of Vasiliki and Haydée. I am at thecommand of the committee, and even claim the honor of being heard. Ishall be in the lobby when this note is delivered to you.’

  “‘And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?’ asked the count, in atone in which there was a visible alteration. ‘We shall know, sir,’replied the president. ‘Is the committee willing to hear thiswitness?’—‘Yes, yes,’ they all said at once. The door-keeper was called.‘Is there anyone in the lobby?’ said the president.

  “‘Yes, sir.’—‘Who is it?’—‘A woman, accompanied by a servant.’ Everyonelooked at his neighbor. ‘Bring her in,’ said the president. Five minutesafter the door-keeper again appeared; all eyes were fixed on the door,and I,” said Beauchamp, “shared the general expectation and anxiety.Behind the door-keeper walked a woman enveloped in a large veil, whichcompletely concealed her. It was evident, from her figure and theperfumes she had about her, that she was young and fastidious in hertastes, but that was all. The president requested her to throw aside herveil, and it was then seen that she was dressed in the Grecian costume,and was remarkably beautiful.”

  “Ah,” said Albert, “it was she.”

  “Who?”

  “Haydée.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Alas, I guess it. But go on, Beauchamp. You see I am calm and strong.And yet we must be drawing near the disclosure.”

  “M. de Morcerf,” continued Beauchamp, “looked at this woman withsurprise and terror. Her lips were about to pass his sentence of life ordeath. To the committee the adventure was so extraordinary and curious,that the interest they had felt for the count’s safety became now quitea secondary matter. The president himself advanced to place a seat forthe young lady; but she declined availing herself of it. As for thecount, he had fallen on his chair; it was evident that his legs refusedto support him.

  “‘Madame,’ said the president, ‘you have engaged to furnish thecommittee with some important particulars respecting the affair atYanina, and you have stated that you were an eyewitness of theevent.’—‘I was, indeed,’ said the stranger, with a tone of sweetmelancholy, and with the sonorous voice peculiar to the East.

  “‘But allow me to say that you must have been very young then.’—‘I wasfour years old; but as those events deeply concerned me, not a singledetail has escaped my memory.’—‘In what manner could these eventsconcern you? and who are yo
u, that they should have made so deep animpression on you?’—‘On them depended my father’s life,’ replied she. ‘Iam Haydée, the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and ofVasiliki, his beloved wife.’

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  “The blush of mingled pride and modesty which suddenly suffused thecheeks of the young woman, the brilliancy of her eye, and her highlyimportant communication, produced an indescribable effect on theassembly. As for the count, he could not have been more overwhelmed if athunderbolt had fallen at his feet and opened an immense gulf beforehim.

  “‘Madame,’ replied the president, bowing with profound respect, ‘allowme to ask one question; it shall be the last: Can you prove theauthenticity of what you have now stated?’

  “‘I can, sir,’ said Haydée, drawing from under her veil a satin satchelhighly perfumed; ‘for here is the register of my birth, signed by myfather and his principal officers, and that of my baptism, my fatherhaving consented to my being brought up in my mother’s faith,—thislatter has been sealed by the grand primate of Macedonia and Epirus; andlastly (and perhaps the most important), the record of the sale of myperson and that of my mother to the Armenian merchant El-Kobbir, by theFrench officer, who, in his infamous bargain with the Porte, hadreserved as his part of the booty the wife and daughter of hisbenefactor, whom he sold for the sum of four hundred thousand francs.’ Agreenish pallor spread over the count’s cheeks, and his eyes becamebloodshot at these terrible imputations, which were listened to by theassembly with ominous silence.

  “Haydée, still calm, but with a calmness more dreadful than the anger ofanother would have been, handed to the president the record of her sale,written in Arabic. It had been supposed some of the papers might be inthe Arabian, Romaic, or Turkish language, and the interpreter of theHouse was in attendance. One of the noble peers, who was familiar withthe Arabic language, having studied it during the famous Egyptiancampaign, followed with his eye as the translator read aloud:

  “‘I, El-Kobbir, a slave-merchant, and purveyor of the harem of hishighness, acknowledge having received for transmission to the sublimeemperor, from the French lord, the Count of Monte Cristo, an emeraldvalued at eight hundred thousand francs; as the ransom of a youngChristian slave of eleven years of age, named Haydée, the acknowledgeddaughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and ofVasiliki, his favorite; she having been sold to me seven yearspreviously, with her mother, who had died on arriving at Constantinople,by a French colonel in the service of the Vizier Ali Tepelini, namedFernand Mondego. The above-mentioned purchase was made on his highness’saccount, whose mandate I had, for the sum of four hundred thousandfrancs.

  “‘Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in the year1247 of the Hegira.

  “‘Signed, El-Kobbir.’

  “‘That this record should have all due authority, it shall bear theimperial seal, which the vendor is bound to have affixed to it.’

  “Near the merchant’s signature there was, indeed, the seal of thesublime emperor. A dreadful silence followed the reading of thisdocument; the count could only stare, and his gaze, fixed as ifunconsciously on Haydée, seemed one of fire and blood. ‘Madame,’ saidthe president, ‘may reference be made to the Count of Monte Cristo, whois now, I believe, in Paris?’

  “‘Sir,’ replied Haydée, ‘the Count of Monte Cristo, my foster-father,has been in Normandy the last three days.’

  “‘Who, then, has counselled you to take this step, one for which thecourt is deeply indebted to you, and which is perfectly natural,considering your birth and your misfortunes?’—‘Sir,’ replied Haydée, ‘Ihave been led to take this step from a feeling of respect and grief.Although a Christian, may God forgive me, I have always sought torevenge my illustrious father. Since I set my foot in France, and knewthe traitor lived in Paris, I have watched carefully. I live retired inthe house of my noble protector, but I do it from choice. I loveretirement and silence, because I can live with my thoughts andrecollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo surrounds mewith every paternal care, and I am ignorant of nothing which passes inthe world. I learn all in the silence of my apartments,—for instance, Isee all the newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece ofmusic; and by thus watching the course of the life of others, I learnedwhat had transpired this morning in the House of Peers, and what was totake place this evening; then I wrote.’

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  “‘Then,’ remarked the president, ‘the Count of Monte Cristo knowsnothing of your present proceedings?’—‘He is quite unaware of them, andI have but one fear, which is that he should disapprove of what I havedone. But it is a glorious day for me,’ continued the young girl,raising her ardent gaze to heaven, ‘that on which I find at last anopportunity of avenging my father!’

  “The count had not uttered one word the whole of this time. Hiscolleagues looked at him, and doubtless pitied his prospects, blightedunder the perfumed breath of a woman. His misery was depicted insinister lines on his countenance. ‘M. de Morcerf,’ said the president,‘do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha ofYanina?’—‘No,’ said Morcerf, attempting to rise, ‘it is a base plot,contrived by my enemies.’ Haydée, whose eyes had been fixed on the door,as if expecting someone, turned hastily, and, seeing the count standing,shrieked, ‘You do not know me?’ said she. ‘Well, I fortunately recognizeyou! You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer who led the troops ofmy noble father! It is you who surrendered the castle of Yanina! It isyou who, sent by him to Constantinople, to treat with the emperor forthe life or death of your benefactor, brought back a false mandategranting full pardon! It is you who, with that mandate, obtained thepasha’s ring, which gave you authority over Selim, the fire-keeper! Itis you who stabbed Selim. It is you who sold us, my mother and me, tothe merchant, El-Kobbir! Assassin, assassin, assassin, you have still onyour brow your master’s blood! Look, gentlemen, all!’

  “These words had been pronounced with such enthusiasm and evident truth,that every eye was fixed on the count’s forehead, and he himself passedhis hand across it, as if he felt Ali’s blood still lingering there.‘You positively recognize M. de Morcerf as the officer, FernandMondego?’—‘Indeed I do!’ cried Haydée. ‘Oh, my mother, it was you whosaid, “You were free, you had a beloved father, you were destined to bealmost a queen. Look well at that man; it is he who raised your father’shead on the point of a spear; it is he who sold us; it is he who forsookus! Look well at his right hand, on which he has a large wound; if youforgot his features, you would know him by that hand, into which fell,one by one, the gold pieces of the merchant El-Kobbir!” I know him! Ah,let him say now if he does not recognize me!’ Each word fell like adagger on Morcerf, and deprived him of a portion of his energy; as sheuttered the last, he hid his mutilated hand hastily in his bosom, andfell back on his seat, overwhelmed by wretchedness and despair. Thisscene completely changed the opinion of the assembly respecting theaccused count.

  “‘Count of Morcerf,’ said the president, ‘do not allow yourself to becast down; answer. The justice of the court is supreme and impartial asthat of God; it will not suffer you to be trampled on by your enemieswithout giving you an opportunity of defending yourself. Shall furtherinquiries be made? Shall two members of the House be sent to Yanina?Speak!’ Morcerf did not reply. Then all the members looked at each otherwith terror. They knew the count’s energetic and violent temper; it mustbe, indeed, a dreadful blow which would deprive him of courage to defendhimself. They expected that his stupefied silence would be followed by afiery outburst. ‘Well,’ asked the president, ‘what is your decision?’

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  “‘I have no reply to make,’ said the count in a low tone.

  “‘Has the daughter of Ali Tepelini spoken the truth?’ said thepresident. ‘Is she, then, the terrible witness to whose charge you darenot plead “Not guilty”? Have you really committed the crimes of whichyou are accused?’ The count looked around him with an expression whichmight have soft
ened tigers, but which could not disarm his judges. Thenhe raised his eyes towards the ceiling, but withdrew then, immediately,as if he feared the roof would open and reveal to his distressed viewthat second tribunal called heaven, and that other judge named God.Then, with a hasty movement, he tore open his coat, which seemed tostifle him, and flew from the room like a madman; his footstep was heardone moment in the corridor, then the rattling of his carriage-wheels ashe was driven rapidly away. ‘Gentlemen,’ said the president, whensilence was restored, ‘is the Count of Morcerf convicted of felony,treason, and conduct unbecoming a member of this House?’—‘Yes,’ repliedall the members of the committee of inquiry with a unanimous voice.

  “Haydée had remained until the close of the meeting. She heard thecount’s sentence pronounced without betraying an expression of joy orpity; then drawing her veil over her face she bowed majestically to thecouncillors, and left with that dignified step which Virgil attributesto his goddesses.”