The Count of Monte Cristo

by Alexandre Dumas

  ‘Go on!’ he said.

  ‘The evening came,’ Beauchamp continued. ‘All Paris was on tenterhooks. Many people said that your father had only to show himself for the charges to collapse, while many others said that he would not appear. Some claimed they had seen him leaving for Brussels, and a few went to the police to ask if it was true, as they had heard, that the count had collected his passport.

  ‘I admit that I did everything I could,’ Beauchamp went on, ‘to get a member of the commission, a young peer who is a friend of mine, to gain admission for me to some kind of gallery in the chamber. At seven o’clock he came to fetch me and, before anyone else had arrived, handed me over to an usher who shut me into a sort of box, like a box in the theatre: I was concealed by a pillar and wrapped in total darkness, so I could reasonably hope to see and hear each of the terrible events that were about to take place. By eight o’clock exactly, everyone had assembled.

  ‘Monsieur de Morcerf came in as the clock had just finished striking. He had some papers in his hands and his face appeared calm. For him, his manner was unusually simple, and his dress studied and severe. In the manner of an old soldier, he wore his coat buttoned from top to bottom.

  ‘His entrance was very favourably received. The commission was certainly not ill-disposed towards him, and several of its members came over to offer him their hands.’

  Albert felt that his heart would break on learning these details, yet in the midst of his pain he experienced a feeling of gratitude: he would like to have been able to embrace these men who had given his father this sign of their esteem when his honour had been so gravely challenged.

  ‘At that moment an usher came in and gave the chairman a letter. “You have the floor, Monsieur de Morcerf,” he said, as he was breaking the seals.

  ‘The count began his defence and, I assure you, Albert,’ Beauchamp went on, ‘he spoke with extraordinary eloquence and skill. He produced documents to prove that the vizier of Janina, to his very last hour, had honoured him with his entire confidence, since he had entrusted him with a life-and-death mission to the emperor himself. He showed the ring, a token of authority which Ali Pasha commonly used to seal his letters, and which he had given him so that when he returned, he could have access to him, at whatever hour of the day or night, even if he was in his harem. Unfortunately, he said, his mission had failed and, when he returned to defend his benefactor, Ali was already dead. But as he died, the count said, so great was Ali Pasha’s confidence in him that he had entrusted his favourite mistress and their daughter to him.’

  Albert shuddered at these words because, even while Beauchamp was speaking, the young man was recalling the whole of Haydée’s story and he remembered what the beautiful Greek girl had said about that message, that ring and how she was sold into slavery.

  ‘What was the effect of the count’s speech?’ Albert asked anxiously.

  ‘I must admit I found it moving, and so did the whole commission,’ said Beauchamp.

  ‘However, the chairman casually glanced at the letter that had just been brought to him. But as he read the first lines, his interest was awakened. He read it once, then again and said, looking hard at Monsieur de Morcerf: “Count, you have just told us that the vizier of Janina entrusted his wife and daughter to you?”

  ‘ “Yes, Monsieur,” Morcerf replied. “But here, as in the rest, I was pursued by misfortune. On my return, Vasiliki and her daughter, Haydée, had vanished.”

  ‘ “Did you know them?”

  ‘ “The confidence that the pasha placed in my loyalty and the intimate nature of our relationship meant that I was able to see them more than twenty times.”

  ‘ “Have you any idea what became of them?”

  ‘ “Yes, Monsieur. I heard that they succumbed to their grief and perhaps to poverty. I was not rich, my own life was in serious danger and, to my great regret, I was not able to look for them.”

  ‘The chairman frowned imperceptibly. “Gentlemen,” he said, “you have heard what Monsieur le Comte de Morcerf has said and followed his explanation. Now, Count, can you bring forward any witness in support of the account you have just given us?”

  ‘ “Alas, no, Monsieur,” the count replied. “All those around the vizier who knew me at his court are either dead or scattered across the world. I believe that I am alone among my compatriots to have survived that frightful war. I have the letters of Ali Tebelin which I have shown you; I have the ring which was the token of his authority – here it is; and finally I have the most convincing refutation that I can supply to this anonymous attack, which is the absence of any witness against my word as an honourable man and the unblemished record of my military career.”

  ‘A murmur of approval ran through the assembly. At that moment, Albert, if nothing had intervened, your father’s case was won.

  ‘All that was left was to proceed to a vote, when the chairman asked to be heard. “Gentlemen,” he said, “and you, Count, I suppose you will not be displeased to hear someone who claims to be a very important witness and who has just presented himself here of his own accord. Having listened to our colleague, we cannot doubt that this witness will prove his entire innocence. Here is the letter that I have just received on the matter. Would you like it to be read out, or will you decide to discard it and ignore this incident?”

  ‘Monsieur de Morcerf paled and gripped the papers he was holding even tighter, so that they rustled audibly in his hands.

  ‘The commission decided to hear the letter. As for the count, he was thoughtful and offered no opinion one way or the other. So the chairman read the following.

  ‘ “Monsieur le président,

  ‘ “I can supply the most definite information to the commission of enquiry which has been charged with examining the conduct in Epirus and Macedonia of Lieutenant-General, the Comte de Morcerf…”

  ‘Here the chairman paused. The colour drained from the count’s face and the chairman looked enquiringly around the assembly.

  ‘ “Carry on!” they cried in every part of the room. The chairman continued:

  ‘ “I was present at the death of Ali Pasha. I witnessed his final moments. I know what became of Vasiliki and Haydée. I am at the disposal of the commission, and even demand the honour of being heard. I shall be in the hall of the House at the moment when this letter is given to you.”

  ‘ “And who is this witness – or, rather, this enemy?” the count asked in a voice which was audibly and profoundly distorted by his feelings.

  ‘ “That we shall discover, Monsieur,” the chairman replied. “Does the commission agree that we should hear this witness?”

  ‘ “Yes, yes,” every voice cried simultaneously.

  ‘The usher was recalled. “Usher,” the chairman asked, “is there someone waiting in the hall?”

  ‘ “Yes, Monsieur le président.”

  ‘ “Who is this person?”

  ‘ “A lady accompanied by a servant.”

  ‘Everyone exchanged glances.

  ‘ “Bring her in,” said the chairman.

  ‘Five minutes later, the usher reappeared. Every eye was fixed on the door. And I too,’ Beauchamp added, ‘shared in the general mood of expectation and anxiety.

  ‘Behind the usher walked a woman wrapped in a large cloak which entirely concealed her. Under it, from the shape it outlined and the perfumes that it exhaled, one could guess at the presence of an elegant young woman, but no more.

  ‘The chairman asked the stranger to remove her veil and it could then be seen that she was dressed in Greek costume; and, in addition to that, she was of outstanding beauty.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Morcerf. ‘Her.’

  ‘Whom do you mean: her?’

  ‘Haydée.’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Alas, I guessed it. But, Beauchamp, please continue. You can see that I am calm and strong. We must be coming to the end.’

  ‘Monsieur de Morcerf,’ Beauchamp continued, ‘looked at the woman with a
mixture of surprise and alarm. For him, it was life or death that hung on those charming lips, while, for everyone else, this was such a strange and curious adventure that the loss or salvation of Monsieur de Morcerf had become a secondary consideration.

  ‘The chairman gestured the young woman towards a seat, but she indicated that she would remain standing. As for the count, he had fallen back into his chair and it was clear that his legs would no longer carry him.

  ‘ “Madame,” the chairman said, “you wrote to the commission to offer some information about the affair at Janina and you claim that you were an eye-witness of the events.”

  ‘ “Indeed I was,” the stranger replied with a voice imbued with a delightful sadness and stamped with that sonorousness peculiar to Oriental voices.

  ‘ “However,” the chairman said, “permit me to remark that you were very young at that time.”

  ‘ “I was four years old but, since the events were of supreme significance to me, not a single detail has left my mind and not one circumstance has escaped my memory.”

  ‘ “What significance can these events have had for you? Who are you, for this great catastrophe to have produced such a profound impression on you?”

  ‘ “It was a matter of the life or death of my father,” the young woman replied. “My name is Haydée, daughter of Ali Tebelin, Pasha of Janina, and Vasiliki, his well-beloved wife.”

  ‘The blush, at once modest and proud, that spread across the young woman’s cheeks, the flame in her eyes and the solemnity of her revelation produced an indescribable effect on the assembly. As for the count, he could not have been more smitten if a thunderbolt had fallen, opening a pit at his feet.

  ‘ “Madame,” the chairman continued, after bowing respectfully, “allow me to ask one simple question, without casting doubt on your words, which will be the last: have you any proof of what you say?”

  ‘ “I do, Monsieur,” Haydée said, taking from under her cloak a sachet of perfumed satin. “Here is the certificate of my birth, drawn up by my father and signed by his principal officials; and here, with the certificate of my birth, is that of my baptism, my father having agreed that I might be brought up in the religion of my mother: this certificate bears the seal of the great primate of Macedonia and Epirus. Finally – and this is doubtless the most important – here is the bill for the sale of my person and that of my mother to the Armenian merchant, El Kobbir, by this Frankish officer who, in his infamous dealings with La Porte, had reserved as his share of the booty the wife and daughter of his benefactor, and sold them for the sum of a thousand purses, that is to say for approximately four hundred thousand francs.”

  ‘A greenish pallor spread across the Comte de Morcerf’s cheeks and his eyes became shot with blood as these terrible charges were spelled out, to be greeted by the assembly in melancholy silence.

  ‘Haydée, still calm, but far more threatening in her calm than another might have been in anger, passed the bill of sale across to the chairman. It was written in Arabic; but since it had been anticipated that some of the documents produced might be in Arabic, Romaic or Turkish, the parliamentary interpreter had been asked to stand by, and he was called. One of the peers, who knew Arabic, having learned the language during the glorious Egyptian campaign,1 followed the words on the parchment as the translator read them aloud:

  I, El Kobbir, slave dealer and supplier of His Royal Highness’s harem, acknowledge having received from the Frankish lord, Count of Monte Cristo, for delivery to the most glorious emperor, an emerald valued at 2,000 purses, in payment for a young Christian slave aged eleven years, by name Haydée, legitimate daughter of the late lord Ali Tebelin, Pasha of Janina, and Vasiliki, his favourite, the same having been sold to me seven years ago, with her mother, who died on arrival at Constantinople, by a Frankish colonel in the service of the vizier Ali Tebelin, named Fernand Mondego.

  The above-mentioned sale was made on behalf of His Royal Highness, by whom I was mandated, for the amount of one thousand purses.

  In Constantinople, with authorization from His Royal Highness, year 1274 of the hegira.

  Signed: EL KOBBIR

  The present deed is fully and properly authenticated by the imperial seal, which the vendor must ensure is attached.

  ‘Near the merchant’s signature one could indeed see the seal of the august emperor.

  ‘A dreadful silence followed the reading of the letter and the sight of the seal. The count was powerless to do anything but stare. His eyes, fastened as though involuntarily on Haydée, were shot with blood and flames.

  ‘ “Madame,” the chairman said, “can we not speak to the Count of Monte Cristo, who is in Paris together with you, I believe?”

  ‘ “Monsieur,” Haydée replied, “the Count of Monte Cristo, my second father, has been in Normandy for the past three days.”

  ‘ “In that case, Madame,” the chairman said, “who advised you to take this step – though the court thanks you for it, and it was quite natural in view of your birth and your misfortunes?”

  ‘ “This was dictated to me by my respect and my sorrow, Monsieur,” Haydée replied. “God forgive me: though I am a Christian, I have always thought to avenge my illustrious father. After I set foot in France and learned that the traitor lived in Paris, my eyes and my ears remained constantly open. I lived in seclusion in the house of my noble protector, but I live thus because I love obscurity and silence, which allow me to inhabit my own thoughts and meditations. The Count of Monte Cristo surrounds me with his paternal care and I am aware of all that goes on in the world, but I only hear distant echoes of it. I read all the newspapers, just as I am sent all the albums and all the new music. Because I follow the lives of others, without taking part in them, I learned of what happened this morning in the House and what was to take place here this evening; and I wrote to you.”

  ‘ “So the Count of Monte Cristo is not involved in what you have done?” the chairman asked.

  ‘ “He is quite unaware of it, Monsieur, and I am afraid of only one thing, which is that he will disapprove when he finds out about it. However,” the young woman went on, looking with burning eyes towards heaven, “it is a fine day for me, now that I have at last the opportunity to avenge my father.”

  ‘Throughout all this, the count had not spoken a single word. His colleagues were looking at him and, no doubt, pitying this greatness that had been blown away by the scented breath of a woman. The dreadful marks of his misfortune were little by little appearing on his face.

  ‘ “Monsieur de Morcerf,” said the chairman, “do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tebelin, pasha of Janina?”

  ‘ “No,” Morcerf said, attempting to rise. “This is a tissue of lies, woven by my enemies.”

  ‘Haydée, who had been looking intently towards the door as if expecting someone, turned sharply and, seeing the count on his feet, gave an awful cry. “You do not recognize me,” she said. “Well, fortunately I recognize you! You are Fernand Mondego, the Frankish officer who was instructor to the troops of my noble father. You it was who betrayed the castles of Janina! You it was who, having been sent by your benefactor to deal directly on the matter of his life or death with the emperor, brought back a false firman giving him a complete pardon! You it was who with this firman obtained the pasha’s ring which would command the obedience of Selim, keeper of the fire! You it was who stabbed Selim! You it was who sold us, my mother and me, to the merchant El Kobbir! Assassin! Assassin! Assassin! Your master’s blood is still on your brow! Let it be seen by all!”

  ‘These words were spoken with such passionate conviction that all eyes turned towards the count, and he even put his hand to his forehead as if he had felt Ali’s blood on it, still warm.

  ‘ “So do you positively identify Monsieur de Morcerf as this same officer Fernand Mondego?”

  ‘ “Indeed I do recognize him!” Haydée exclaimed. “Oh, my mother! You told me: ‘You were free, you had a father whom you loved, you were destine
d to be almost a queen! Look well on this man: he it is who has made you a slave, who raised your father’s head on the end of a pike, who sold us, who betrayed us! Look well on his right hand, the one that bears a broad scar; should you forget his face, you would recognize him by that hand into which, one by one, fell the coins of the merchant El Kobbir!’ Indeed, I do recognize him! Oh, let him say now that he does not recognize me!”

  ‘Each word fell like the blow of a cutlass on Morcerf and drained a part of his energy. At the last words, he involuntarily hastened to conceal his hand in his coat: it was indeed disfigured by a wound; then he fell back into his seat, plunged into the desolation of utter despair.

  ‘This scene had caused a commotion among the minds of all those present which swirled like the leaves torn from a tree by the powerful north wind.

  ‘ “Monsieur de Morcerf,” said the chairman, “do not let your courage fail you; reply. The justice of the court is supreme and equal for all, like that of God. It will not let you be crushed by your enemies without providing you with the means to combat them. Would you like further enquiries to be made? Do you wish me to order two members of the commission to visit Janina? Speak!”

  ‘Morcerf said nothing.

  ‘At this, all the members of the commission looked at one another with a sort of horror. They knew the count’s powerful and aggressive character. It would take the most terrible blow to overwhelm this man’s defences; it must be that this silence, which was like a slumber, would be followed by an awakening that would be like thunder.

  ‘ “Well, then?” asked the chairman. “What have you decided?”

  ‘ “Nothing!” the count said in a toneless voice, rising to his feet.

  ‘ “Then has the daughter of Ali Tebelin really told us the truth?” said the chairman. “Is she really the awful witness to whom the guilty man never dares to answer: no? Did you really do all these things that she accuses you of doing?”

  ‘The count looked around him with an expression that would have melted the heart of a tiger but which could not disarm a judge. Then he raised his eyes towards the vaulted ceiling as if fearing that it might open to reveal that second tribunal which is called heaven and that other judge who is called God.