“It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage,” remarked the Englishman.
“As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerous man; and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account.”
“How was that?”
“How? Do you not comprehend?”
“No.”
“The Chateau d’If has no cemetery, and they simply throw the dead into the sea, after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet.”
“Well,” observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension.
“Well, they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet, and threw him into the sea.”
“Really!” exclaimed the Englishman.
“Yes, sir,” continued the inspector of prisons. “You may imagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himself flung headlong over the rocks! I should like to have seen his face at that moment.”
“That would have been difficult.”
“No matter,” replied De Boville, in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs, —“no matter, I can fancy it.” And he shouted with laughter.
“So can I,” said the Englishman, and he laughed too; but he laughed as the English do, “at the end of his teeth.”
“And so,” continued the Englishman who first gained his composure, “he was drowned?”
“Unquestionably.”
“So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?”
“Precisely.”
“But some official document was drawn up as to this affair, I suppose?” inquired the Englishman.
“Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantes’ relations, if he had any, might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive.”
“So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him, they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and no mistake about it.”
“Oh, yes; and they may have the fact attested whenever they please.”
“So be it,” said the Englishman. “But to return to these registers.”
“True, this story has diverted our attention from them. Excuse me.”
“Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means; it really seems to me very curious.”
“Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe, who really was gentleness itself.”
“Yes, you will much oblige me.”
“Go into my study here, and I will show it to you.” And they both entered M. de Boville’s study. Everything was here arranged in perfect order; each register had its number, each file of papers its place. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair, and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d’If, giving him all the time he desired for the examination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner, and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria; but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly, for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. There he found everything arranged in due order, — the accusation, examination, Morrel’s petition, M. de Villefort’s marginal notes. He folded up the accusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket; read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it; perused, too, the application dated 10th April, 1815, in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur’s advice, exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleon was then on the throne) the services Dantes had rendered to the imperial cause — services which Villefort’s certificates rendered indispensable. Then he saw through the whole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back by Villefort, had become, under the second restoration, a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king’s attorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note, placed in a bracket against his name: —
Edmond Dantes.
An inveterate Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba.
To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closely watched and guarded.
Beneath these lines was written in another hand: “See note above — nothing can be done.” He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel’s petition, and discovered that the note in the bracket was the some writing as the certificate — that is to say, was in Villefort’s handwriting. As to the note which accompanied this, the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes’ situation, but who had, from the remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt.