The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas and Auguste Maquet
introduction to them, and I had seen them above twenty times.’
2458 words | Chapter 93
“‘Have you any idea what became of them?’—‘Yes, sir; I heard they had
fallen victims to their sorrow, and, perhaps, to their poverty. I was
not rich; my life was in constant danger; I could not seek them, to my
great regret.’ The president frowned imperceptibly. ‘Gentlemen,’ said
he, ‘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 not
where. I believe that I alone, of all my countrymen, survived that
dreadful war. I have only the letters of Ali Tepelini, which I have
placed before you; the ring, a token of his good-will, which is here;
and, lastly, the most convincing proof I can offer, after an anonymous
attack, and that is the absence of any witness against my veracity and
the 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 been
gained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the president
resumed: ‘Gentlemen and you, monsieur,—you will not be displeased, I
presume, to listen to one who calls himself a very important witness,
and who has just presented himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove the
perfect innocence of our colleague. Here is a letter I have just
received 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 turned
pale, and clenched his hands on the papers he held. The committee
decided to hear the letter; the count was thoughtful and silent. The
president read:
“‘Mr. President,—I can furnish the committee of inquiry into the
conduct of the Lieutenant-General the Count of Morcerf in Epirus and in
Macedonia with important particulars.’
“The president paused, and the count turned pale. The president looked
at his auditors. ‘Proceed,’ was heard on all sides. The president
resumed:
“‘I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pasha. I was present during his
last moments. I know what is become of Vasiliki and Haydée. I am at the
command of the committee, and even claim the honor of being heard. I
shall be in the lobby when this note is delivered to you.’
“‘And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?’ asked the count, in a
tone in which there was a visible alteration. ‘We shall know, sir,’
replied the president. ‘Is the committee willing to hear this
witness?’—‘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.’ Everyone
looked at his neighbor. ‘Bring her in,’ said the president. Five
minutes after 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, which completely concealed her. It was evident, from her figure
and the perfumes she had about her, that she was young and fastidious
in her tastes, but that was all. The president requested her to throw
aside her veil, 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 with
surprise and terror. Her lips were about to pass his sentence of life
or death. To the committee the adventure was so extraordinary and
curious, that the interest they had felt for the count’s safety became
now quite a secondary matter. The president himself advanced to place a
seat for the young lady; but she declined availing herself of it. As
for the count, he had fallen on his chair; it was evident that his legs
refused to support him.
“‘Madame,’ said the president, ‘you have engaged to furnish the
committee with some important particulars respecting the affair at
Yanina, and you have stated that you were an eyewitness of the
event.’—‘I was, indeed,’ said the stranger, with a tone of sweet
melancholy, and with the sonorous voice peculiar to the East.
“‘But allow me to say that you must have been very young then.’—‘I was
four years old; but as those events deeply concerned me, not a single
detail has escaped my memory.’—‘In what manner could these events
concern you? and who are you, that they should have made so deep an
impression on you?’—‘On them depended my father’s life,’ replied she.
‘I am Haydée, the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and of
Vasiliki, his beloved wife.’
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“The blush of mingled pride and modesty which suddenly suffused the
cheeks of the young woman, the brilliancy of her eye, and her highly
important communication, produced an indescribable effect on the
assembly. As for the count, he could not have been more overwhelmed if
a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet and opened an immense gulf before
him.
“‘Madame,’ replied the president, bowing with profound respect, ‘allow
me to ask one question; it shall be the last: Can you prove the
authenticity of what you have now stated?’
“‘I can, sir,’ said Haydée, drawing from under her veil a satin satchel
highly perfumed; ‘for here is the register of my birth, signed by my
father and his principal officers, and that of my baptism, my father
having consented to my being brought up in my mother’s faith,—this
latter has been sealed by the grand primate of Macedonia and Epirus;
and lastly (and perhaps the most important), the record of the sale of
my person and that of my mother to the Armenian merchant El-Kobbir, by
the French officer, who, in his infamous bargain with the Porte, had
reserved as his part of the booty the wife and daughter of his
benefactor, whom he sold for the sum of four hundred thousand francs.’
A greenish pallor spread over the count’s cheeks, and his eyes became
bloodshot at these terrible imputations, which were listened to by the
assembly with ominous silence.
“Haydée, still calm, but with a calmness more dreadful than the anger
of another 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 in the Arabian, Romaic, or Turkish language, and the interpreter of
the House was in attendance. One of the noble peers, who was familiar
with the Arabic language, having studied it during the famous Egyptian
campaign, followed with his eye as the translator read aloud:
“‘I, El-Kobbir, a slave-merchant, and purveyor of the harem of his
highness, acknowledge having received for transmission to the sublime
emperor, from the French lord, the Count of Monte Cristo, an emerald
valued at eight hundred thousand francs; as the ransom of a young
Christian slave of eleven years of age, named Haydée, the acknowledged
daughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and of
Vasiliki, his favorite; she having been sold to me seven years
previously, with her mother, who had died on arriving at
Constantinople, by a French colonel in the service of the Vizier Ali
Tepelini, named Fernand Mondego. The above-mentioned purchase was made
on his highness’s account, whose mandate I had, for the sum of four
hundred thousand francs.
“‘Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in the year
1247 of the Hegira.
“‘Signed, El-Kobbir.’
“‘That this record should have all due authority, it shall bear the
imperial seal, which the vendor is bound to have affixed to it.’
“Near the merchant’s signature there was, indeed, the seal of the
sublime emperor. A dreadful silence followed the reading of this
document; the count could only stare, and his gaze, fixed as if
unconsciously on Haydée, seemed one of fire and blood. ‘Madame,’ said
the president, ‘may reference be made to the Count of Monte Cristo, who
is 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 the
court is deeply indebted to you, and which is perfectly natural,
considering your birth and your misfortunes?’—‘Sir,’ replied Haydée, ‘I
have been led to take this step from a feeling of respect and grief.
Although a Christian, may God forgive me, I have always sought to
revenge my illustrious father. Since I set my foot in France, and knew
the traitor lived in Paris, I have watched carefully. I live retired in
the house of my noble protector, but I do it from choice. I love
retirement and silence, because I can live with my thoughts and
recollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo surrounds me
with every paternal care, and I am ignorant of nothing which passes in
the world. I learn all in the silence of my apartments,—for instance, I
see all the newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece of
music; and by thus watching the course of the life of others, I learned
what had transpired this morning in the House of Peers, and what was to
take place this evening; then I wrote.’
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“‘Then,’ remarked the president, ‘the Count of Monte Cristo knows
nothing of your present proceedings?’—‘He is quite unaware of them, and
I have but one fear, which is that he should disapprove of what I have
done. 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 an
opportunity of avenging my father!’
“The count had not uttered one word the whole of this time. His
colleagues looked at him, and doubtless pitied his prospects, blighted
under the perfumed breath of a woman. His misery was depicted in
sinister lines on his countenance. ‘M. de Morcerf,’ said the president,
‘do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of
Yanina?’—‘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 recognize you! You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer
who led the troops of my noble father! It is you who surrendered the
castle of Yanina! It is you who, sent by him to Constantinople, to
treat with the emperor for the life or death of your benefactor,
brought back a false mandate granting full pardon! It is you who, with
that mandate, obtained the pasha’s ring, which gave you authority over
Selim, the fire-keeper! It is you who stabbed Selim. It is you who sold
us, my mother and me, to the merchant, El-Kobbir! Assassin, assassin,
assassin, you have still on your 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
passed his hand across it, as if he felt Ali’s blood still lingering
there. ‘You positively recognize M. de Morcerf as the officer, Fernand
Mondego?’—‘Indeed I do!’ cried Haydée. ‘Oh, my mother, it was you who
said, “You were free, you had a beloved father, you were destined to be
almost a queen. Look well at that man; it is he who raised your
father’s head on the point of a spear; it is he who sold us; it is he
who forsook us! Look well at his right hand, on which he has a large
wound; if you forgot 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 a dagger on Morcerf, and deprived him of a
portion of his energy; as she uttered the last, he hid his mutilated
hand hastily in his bosom, and fell back on his seat, overwhelmed by
wretchedness and despair. This scene completely changed the opinion of
the assembly respecting the accused count.
“‘Count of Morcerf,’ said the president, ‘do not allow yourself to be
cast down; answer. The justice of the court is supreme and impartial as
that of God; it will not suffer you to be trampled on by your enemies
without giving you an opportunity of defending yourself. Shall further
inquiries be made? Shall two members of the House be sent to Yanina?
Speak!’ Morcerf did not reply. Then all the members looked at each
other with terror. They knew the count’s energetic and violent temper;
it must be, indeed, a dreadful blow which would deprive him of courage
to defend himself. They expected that his stupefied silence would be
followed by a fiery 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 the
president. ‘Is she, then, the terrible witness to whose charge you dare
not plead “Not guilty”? Have you really committed the crimes of which
you are accused?’ The count looked around him with an expression which
might have softened tigers, but which could not disarm his judges. Then
he raised his eyes towards the ceiling, but withdrew then, immediately,
as if he feared the roof would open and reveal to his distressed view
that second tribunal called heaven, and that other judge named God.
Then, with a hasty movement, he tore open his coat, which seemed to
stifle him, and flew from the room like a madman; his footstep was
heard one moment in the corridor, then the rattling of his
carriage-wheels as he was driven rapidly away. ‘Gentlemen,’ said the
president, when silence was restored, ‘is the Count of Morcerf
convicted of felony, treason, and conduct unbecoming a member of this
House?’—‘Yes,’ replied all the members of the committee of inquiry with
a unanimous voice.
“Haydée had remained until the close of the meeting. She heard the
count’s sentence pronounced without betraying an expression of joy or
pity; then drawing her veil over her face she bowed majestically to the
councillors, and left with that dignified step which Virgil attributes
to his goddesses.”
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