“What shall we do?” said Debray; “we have only one Monthyon prize.”
“Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it,” said Beauchamp; “that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma.”
“And where does he come from?” asked Debray. “You have already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time.”
“Really,” said Albert, “I do not know; when I invited him three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time who knows where he may have gone?”
“And you think him capable of being exact?” demanded Debray.
“I think him capable of everything.”
“Well, with the five minutes’ grace, we have only ten left.”
“I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest.”
“I beg pardon,” interrupted Beauchamp; “are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?”
“Yes, and for a most curious one.”
“Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning, and I must make up for it.”
“I was at Rome during the last Carnival.”
“We know that,” said Beauchamp.
“Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits.”
“There are no bandits,” cried Debray.
“Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me.”
“Come, my dear Albert,” said Debray, “confess that your cook is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your history, fabulous as it promises to be.”
“And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian.”
“I know it,” said Chateau-Renaud; “I narrowly escaped catching a fever there.”
“And I did more than that,” replied Morcerf, “for I caught one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4,000 Roman crowns — about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. I wrote to Franz — and were he here he would confirm every word — I wrote then to Franz that if he did not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his word.”
“But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns,” said Chateau-Renaud. “A man whose name is Franz d’Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them.”
“No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you.”
“Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus freeing Andromeda.”
“No, he is a man about my own size.”
“Armed to the teeth?”
“He had not even a knitting-needle.”
“But he paid your ransom?”
“He said two words to the chief and I was free.”
“And they apologized to him for having carried you off?” said Beauchamp.
“Just so.”
“Why, he is a second Ariosto.”
“No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo.”
“There is no Count of Monte Cristo” said Debray.
“I do not think so,” added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly.
“Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?”
“He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea.”
“I think I can assist your researches,” said Maximilian. “Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken of by the old sailors my father employed — a grain of sand in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the infinite.”