“Without reckoning,” added Monte Cristo, “that he is on the eve of entering into a sort of speculation already in vogue in the United States and in England, but quite novel in France.”
“Yes, yes, I know what you mean, — the railway, of which he has obtained the grant, is it not?”
“Precisely; it is generally believed he will gain ten millions by that affair.”
“Ten millions! Do you think so? It is magnificent!” said Cavalcanti, who was quite confounded at the metallic sound of these golden words. “Without reckoning,” replied Monte Cristo, “that all his fortune will come to you, and justly too, since Mademoiselle Danglars is an only daughter. Besides, your own fortune, as your father assured me, is almost equal to that of your betrothed. But enough of money matters. Do you know, M. Andrea, I think you have managed this affair rather skilfully?”
“Not badly, by any means,” said the young man; “I was born for a diplomatist.”
“Well, you must become a diplomatist; diplomacy, you know, is something that is not to be acquired; it is instinctive. Have you lost your heart?”
“Indeed, I fear it,” replied Andrea, in the tone in which he had heard Dorante or Valere reply to Alceste21 at the Theatre Francais.
“Is your love returned?”
“I suppose so,” said Andrea with a triumphant smile, “since I am accepted. But I must not forget one grand point.”
“Which?”
“That I have been singularly assisted.”
“Nonsense.”
“I have, indeed.”
“By circumstances?”
“No; by you.”
“By me? Not at all, prince,” said Monte Cristo laying a marked stress on the title, “what have I done for you? Are not your name, your social position, and your merit sufficient?”
“No,” said Andrea, —“no; it is useless for you to say so, count. I maintain that the position of a man like you has done more than my name, my social position, and my merit.”
“You are completely mistaken, sir,” said Monte Cristo coldly, who felt the perfidious manoeuvre of the young man, and understood the bearing of his words; “you only acquired my protection after the influence and fortune of your father had been ascertained; for, after all, who procured for me, who had never seen either you or your illustrious father, the pleasure of your acquaintance? — two of my good friends, Lord Wilmore and the Abbe Busoni. What encouraged me not to become your surety, but to patronize you? — your father’s name, so well known in Italy and so highly honored. Personally, I do not know you.” This calm tone and perfect ease made Andrea feel that he was, for the moment, restrained by a more muscular hand than his own, and that the restraint could not be easily broken through.
“Oh, then my father has really a very large fortune, count?”
“It appears so, sir,” replied Monte Cristo.
“Do you know if the marriage settlement he promised me has come?”
“I have been advised of it.”
“But the three millions?”
“The three millions are probably on the road.”
“Then I shall really have them?”
“Oh, well,” said the count, “I do not think you have yet known the want of money.” Andrea was so surprised that he pondered the matter for a moment. Then, arousing from his revery, —“Now, sir, I have one request to make to you, which you will understand, even if it should be disagreeable to you.”
“Proceed,” said Monte Cristo.
“I have formed an acquaintance, thanks to my good fortune, with many noted persons, and have, at least for the moment, a crowd of friends. But marrying, as I am about to do, before all Paris, I ought to be supported by an illustrious name, and in the absence of the paternal hand some powerful one ought to lead me to the altar; now, my father is not coming to Paris, is he? He is old, covered with wounds, and suffers dreadfully, he says, in travelling.”
“Indeed?”
“Well, I am come to ask a favor of you.”
“Of me?”
“Yes, of you.”
“And pray what may it be?”
“Well, to take his part.”
“Ah, my dear sir! What? — after the varied relations I have had the happiness to sustain towards you, can it be that you know me so little as to ask such a thing? Ask me to lend you half a million and, although such a loan is somewhat rare, on my honor, you would annoy me less! Know, then, what I thought I had already told you, that in participation in this world’s affairs, more especially in their moral aspects, the Count of Monte Cristo has never ceased to entertain the scruples and even the superstitions of the East. I, who have a seraglio at Cairo, one at Smyrna, and one at Constantinople, preside at a wedding? — never!”