“You live badly on your thousand francs?”
“Badly enough; but yet I do live.”
“Yes; but you have a wretchedly small garden.”
“True, the garden is not large.”
“And, then, such as it is, it is filled with dormice, who eat everything.”
“Ah, they are my scourges.”
“Tell me, should you have the misfortune to turn your head while your right-hand correspondent was telegraphing” —
“I should not see him.”
“Then what would happen?”
“I could not repeat the signals.”
“And then?”
“Not having repeated them, through negligence, I should be fined.”
“How much?”
“A hundred francs.”
“The tenth of your income — that would be fine work.”
“Ah,” said the man.
“Has it ever happened to you?” said Monte Cristo.
“Once, sir, when I was grafting a rose-tree.”
“Well, suppose you were to alter a signal, and substitute another?”
“Ah, that is another case; I should be turned off, and lose my pension.”
“Three hundred francs?”
“A hundred crowns, yes, sir; so you see that I am not likely to do any of these things.”
“Not even for fifteen years’ wages? Come, it is worth thinking about?”
“For fifteen thousand francs?”
“Yes.”
“Sir, you alarm me.”
“Nonsense.”
“Sir, you are tempting me?”
“Just so; fifteen thousand francs, do you understand?”
“Sir, let me see my right-hand correspondent.”
“On the contrary, do not look at him, but at this.”
“What is it?”
“What? Do you not know these bits of paper?”
“Bank-notes!”
“Exactly; there are fifteen of them.”
“And whose are they?”
“Yours, if you like.”
“Mine?” exclaimed the man, half-suffocated.
“Yes; yours — your own property.”
“Sir, my right-hand correspondent is signalling.”
“Let him signal.”
“Sir, you have distracted me; I shall be fined.”
“That will cost you a hundred francs; you see it is your interest to take my bank-notes.”
“Sir, my right-hand correspondent redoubles his signals; he is impatient.”
“Never mind — take these;” and the count placed the packet in the man’s hands. “Now this is not all,” he said; “you cannot live upon your fifteen thousand francs.”
“I shall still have my place.”
“No, you will lose it, for you are going to alter your correspondent’s message.”
“Oh, sir, what are you proposing?”
“A jest.”
“Sir, unless you force me” —
“I think I can effectually force you;” and Monte Cristo drew another packet from his pocket. “Here are ten thousand more francs,” he said, “with the fifteen thousand already in your pocket, they will make twenty-five thousand. With five thousand you can buy a pretty little house with two acres of land; the remaining twenty thousand will bring you in a thousand francs a year.”
“A garden with two acres of land!”
“And a thousand francs a year.”
“Oh, heavens!”
“Come, take them,” and Monte Cristo forced the bank-notes into his hand.
“What am I to do?”
“Nothing very difficult.”
“But what is it?”
“To repeat these signs.” Monte Cristo took a paper from his pocket, upon which were drawn three signs, with numbers to indicate the order in which they were to be worked.
“There, you see it will not take long.”
“Yes; but” —
“Do this, and you will have nectarines and all the rest.” The shot told; red with fever, while the large drops fell from his brow, the man executed, one after the other, the three signs given by the count, in spite of the frightful contortions of the right-hand correspondent, who, not understanding the change, began to think the gardener had gone mad. As to the left-hand one, he conscientiously repeated the same signals, which were finally transmitted to the Minister of the Interior. “Now you are rich,” said Monte Cristo.
“Yes,” replied the man, “but at what a price!”
“Listen, friend,” said Monte Cristo. “I do not wish to cause you any remorse; believe me, then, when I swear to you that you have wronged no man, but on the contrary have benefited mankind.” The man looked at the bank-notes, felt them, counted them, turned pale, then red, then rushed into his room to drink a glass of water, but he had no time to reach the water-jug, and fainted in the midst of his dried herbs. Five minutes after the new telegram reached the minister, Debray had the horses put to his carriage, and drove to Danglars’ house.