Chapter 82 Chapter 82: The Night Robber

On the second day after the conversation which we relate, the Count of Monte Cristo went to Auteuil with Ali and some attendants, and he took some horses with him, intending to ascertain their qualities there.His departure had not been known to André in advance, nor even to the count himself the day before; his visit to Auteuil had been prompted by Bertuccio, who had just returned from Normandy with his house and singles. News from the mast ship.The house was bought, and the sloop, which had arrived a week before, was anchored in a creek, and its crew of six had all the necessary formalities done, ready to go to sea at any moment.The count commended Bertuccio for his zeal, and told him to be ready for a sudden departure, as he would not stay in France for more than a month.

Now, he said, I might need to run from Paris to Port Thierry in one night, with eight fast horses ready on the road, which would enable me to cover a hundred and fifty miles in ten hours. "My lordship has already expressed that hope," said Bertuccio, "the horses are ready, and I will buy them myself and dispatch them myself."I chose the most suitable places, that is, in small villages where no one usually stops. That is very good, said Monte Cristo, I will stay here for a day or two, and you arrange it according to that. Bertuccio was about to leave the room to give the necessary orders when Baptistin opened the door and entered; he carried a silver tray with a letter on it.

What are you doing here?The count asked, seeing his dusty appearance.I thought, I didn't send for you, did I? Baptistin did not answer, but went up to the count, and presented the letter.It is an urgent letter.He said.The count opened the letter and read: Monsieur Monte Cristo is hereby notified that someone is going to his house in the Champs-Elysées this evening to steal certain documents from the desk in the dressing room.The Earl is famous for his bravery, so there is no need to ask the police for help. The intervention of the police may seriously affect the person who sent this warning letter.It was enough for the count to hide behind the doors and windows of his bedroom, or hide in the dressing room, to protect his property himself.Too many attendants, or obvious precautions, would have prevented the villain's attempts; and M. Monte Cristo would have thereby lost the opportunity of discovering an enemy.The man who wrote this warning letter to the Count happened to overhear this attempt, and if this first attempt fails, he cannot warn again if the same attempt is made in the future.

The count's first thought was that it was a trick of the gang, a great deception, to draw his attention to a lesser danger in order to expose him to a greater one.He was thinking of sending the letter to the Superintendent of Police in spite of the advice of his anonymous friend, or because of that advice, but then he thought it might be an enemy only he could know It's better for him to deal with it alone.We know what the count was like; his head was full of strong and bold will, and his professing that everything is impossible, which alone is enough to prove that he is different from ordinary people, these are things we need not say.From his past life, from his fearless determination, the count acquired an unimaginable combativeness in the struggles he had endured, sometimes against Nature, which was God, Sometimes the object of his struggle is the world, which can be said to be the devil.

They are not asking for my papers, said Monte Cristo, they are coming to kill me.They are not thieves, but assassins.I don't want the police chief to interfere in my private affairs.I'm rich, and it doesn't have to take up part of his department's budget.Baptistin, having delivered the letter, left the room, and the count called him back.Go back to Paris, he said, and get all the servants there.I want the whole family to come to Auteuil. But is there no one left in that house, my lord?Baptistin asked. No, leave the porter. My lord remembers that the concierge is far away from the main house.

Um! If someone is going to steal something, he will not hear the sound at all. Who will steal it? thief. You are a fool, Mr Baptistin!A thief might come into the house and steal something, but that kind of thing is not as annoying as someone disobeying me.Baptistin bowed. Do you know what I mean?said the Count.Bring all your companions here, all of you.But everything was as usual, except that the downstairs shutters were closed. What about the second floor? You know it's never off.go! The count expressed his desire to dine alone, with Ali alone to serve him.He ate his meal in the usual deliberate manner, and then made a sign to Ali to follow him: he went out by the side door, walked to the Boulevard Boulogne, set foot on the road to Paris as if by accident, and at dusk , he realized that he had reached the opposite of No. 30 Champs Elysees Avenue.It was dark in his house except for a single yellow lamp burning in the bedroom of the porter, which, as Baptistin said, was separated by forty paces from the main room.Monte Cristo, leaning against a tree, searched the road with his unerring eye, scrutinizing the passers-by, and scanning the adjoining streets to see if anyone was hiding there.After ten minutes of this, he believed no one was paying attention to him.He led Ali hastily to the side door, unlocked it lightly with the key, entered himself, and went up by the servants' stairs to his chamber; he never raised a single curtain, so that even the porter never suspected Until the owner had come back, he still thought it was an empty house.

Once in his quarters, the count motioned Ali to stop; then he went into the dressing-room and made a detailed examination.All was business as usual. The precious desk was still in place, and the keys were still in the drawer.He locked the drawer firmly, took the key, went back to the bedroom door, removed the hasp on the door, and walked into the bedroom.Meanwhile Ali had at his disposal the weapons the count required, namely, a short carbine and a pair of double-gun pistols which were as easy to aim as single-gun pistols.With such armaments, the Earl already held the lives of five people in his hands.It was then about half past nine.The count and Ali ate a loaf of bread hastily, and drank a glass of Spanish wine; then Monte Cristo removed a movable panel, and thereby gazed at what was going on in the adjoining room.Pistol and carbine were at his side, and Ali stood near him, holding in his hand a small Arabian ax which had not changed its style since the Crusades.Looking out of the bedroom window parallel to the dressing room, the Count could see the street outside.Two hours passed in this way.The night was very dark; but Ali and the Count, the one due to his wild nature, the latter no doubt indebted to his long prison life, could still make out the slight movement of the branches in the dark.The little lamp in the porter's room had long been extinguished.If anyone was really going to attack, they should come up the stairs below instead of coming in through the window.According to Monte Cristo, the bandits wanted his life, not his money.Their target would be his bedroom, and they would have to come up the back stairs, or through the dressing-room window.He asked Ali to guard the door leading to the stairs, while he continued to watch the locker room.

The clock in the Invalids' Sanatorium struck quarter to eleven; the westerly wind brought three mournful, quivering bells.When the last stroke of the bell died away, the Count fancied he heard a faint sound from the side of the dressing-room.It was the first crack, or rather a scratch, and then a second, and a third; and when the fourth crack came, the count knew what it was. It's over.A firm and skilled hand was scoring the sides of a pane of glass with a single diamond.The count felt his heart beat faster.Those who know in advance that they will encounter danger, when the danger is really imminent, their hearts will still beat violently, and their bodies will still tremble involuntarily. This is the big difference between dreams and reality, as well as planning and execution.But Monte Cristo only made a gesture to inform Ali that Ali, knowing that the danger was coming from the dressing room, approached his master a little closer.Monte Cristo was anxious to ascertain the number and strength of his enemies.

The window from which the noise came was opposite the opening through which the Count looked into the dressing room.His eyes were fixed on the opening without blinking; he made out a figure in the darkness.Then one pane of glass became opaque.It was as if a piece of paper had been glued to the outside; then the pane of glass rattled, but did not fall.An arm reached through the window opening to find the hasp.A second later, the entire window swung open, and a person came in outside.He is alone. That bastard is so bold!said the count in a low voice. At that moment, Ali tapped him lightly on the shoulder blade.He turned around, and Ali pointed to the window facing the street from the dormitory.Monte Cristo took three steps towards the window, knowing that his faithful servant had a keen eye.Indeed, he saw another person, that person was coming out from the shadow of the door, climbing to the top of the low wall, as if he wanted to see what was going on inside.good!He said that there were two people, one doing it and the other watching.He gestured to Ali to keep an eye on the man in the street.

I came back to pay attention to the one in the locker room. The glass-cutter had come in and was groping with his arms outstretched.At last, he seemed to get a grip on the situation in the room.There were two doors in the room, and he bolted both of them. As he approached the door leading to the bedroom, Monte Cristo, expecting him to enter, raised a pistol; but he heard only the sound of the bolt sliding.This is just a precautionary measure.The midnight visitor, unaware that the count had removed the hasp, thought he was now safe, and began to rise poisedly.He fumbled for something in his pocket, but the Count could not see what it was, but he put it on a coffee table, then stood upright in front of the desk, and felt for the lock of the drawer, which was out of his reach. Unexpectedly, the key was not there.But the one who scratched the glass was a very thoughtful man, and he carried all kinds of emergency equipment.The count soon heard the sound of a bunch of keys, such as the coppersmith always kept by his side ready to open various locks, which thieves called a nightingale, no doubt because it sang jingle as it opened the lock. Because of the lingering nocturne.Ah, ah!Monte Cristo whispered with a disappointed smile: He is only a thief!

But the man couldn't find the right key in the dark.He picked up the thing on the coffee table, pressed a button, and immediately a bluish-white light that was only discernible was reflected on the person's hands and face.Ah!Monte Cristo stepped back in amazement and said, Ali raised his axe. Hold still, whispered Monte Cristo, put down your axe, we need not use weapons.Then he said something more in a lower voice, because the earl's exclamation, although very soft, had alarmed the man, and he quickly turned out of the window, returning to the state he had been in when he scratched the glass.What the Count had just said was an order: for at once Ali went out soundlessly and brought back a black robe and a tricolor hat.Meanwhile, Monte Cristo has hastily removed his coat, vest and shirt, revealing a gleaming soft wire vest; the same kind of wire vest King Louis XVI also wore, but Louis XVI did not wear it. He saved his life by wearing a wire vest, because at first he was afraid that someone would stab him in the chest with a dagger, but in the end he was chopped off on the head with an axe.The wire vest was soon concealed under a long surplice, and his hair was concealed by a priest's wig, which, when added to the three-cornered hat, transformed the count at once into a priest. Hearing no other sound, the man rose again, and when Monte Cristo was about to finish his disguise, he had reached the desk, whose lock began to rattle under the temptation of his nightingale. ringing. here you go!The count whispered that he undoubtedly trusted some kind of secret mechanism on the lock, and believed that although the lockpicker was clever, he might not know that he had such a device to do a good job!You still have a few minutes to work.So he went to the window.The man on the parapet had gone down, and was still walking up and down the street; but strangely enough, he had no regard for passers-by from the Champs-Elysées or the Rue Saint-Honor.He seemed preoccupied with imagining what it would be like in the earl's room; his sole object seemed to be to speculate every movement in the dressing room. Monte Cristo patted himself on the forehead suddenly, a smile flickered on his lips, and drawing Ali to him, he whispered to him: Stay here, hide in the dark, whatever sounds you hear, whatever happens thing, you don't come in, and don't show up unless I call you.Ali bowed to show that he understood and was willing to obey.Monte Cristo then took from the wardrobe a small lighted candle, and while the thief was absorbed in fiddling with his lock, he opened the door quietly, taking care not to let the light of the candle fall directly into his face.The door was opened so silently that the thief heard nothing at all, but to his astonishment, suddenly the room was lit up.He turned around. Good night, my dear Monsieur Caderousse!What are you doing here at this hour, said Monte Cristo? Father Busoni!exclaimed Caderousse.He didn't know how this strange man got in, because he had bolted both doors, the bunch of keys in his hand fell feebly, and he stood motionless, stunned.The count went and stood between Caderousse and the window, thus cutting off the thief's only escape, Father Busoni!continued Caderousse, fixing his staring eyes on the count. Yes, of course, it was the Abbe Busoni, since it was at least ten years or so since we last met. The calm, ironic, and boldness of Busoni made Caderousse stagger a few steps back.Priest, priest!He murmured, his hands clenched into fists, his teeth chattering. Are you coming to steal the Count of Monte Cristo?said the false priest again. Monsieur, said Caderousse terrifiedly, he wanted to go back to the window, but the window was blocked mercilessly by the count, sir, I don't know, believe me, I swear to you A pane of glass was scratched, the count added, and it was obvious enough that a night-lamp, a bunch of false keys, and a desk drawer half-opened Caderousse gasped for breath. He looked around, trying to find a corner to hide in and find a way to escape. Well, continued the count, I think you are as much an assassin as ever. Your Excellency, since you know everything, you must know that it was not I who did it, but the Cargonites, and that was proved in court, so I was only condemned to do it on a peon boat drudgery. Well, since you've come back from there, you've presumably served your sentence? No, sir, I was rescued by a man. That person has done a great merit to society. Ah, said Caderousse, I promised And you broke your promise!Monte Cristo interrupted him. Alas, yes!said Caderousse, very disturbed. Relapse!And that, if I'm not mistaken, takes you to the Place de Grieve.That's bad, that's bad!Inferiority dies hard!This is a common saying in our country. Your Excellency, I was forced to Every prisoner said that. because of poverty snort!Poverty, Busoni says contemptuously, may compel a man to beg for alms, or to steal a loaf of bread from the door of a bakery, but it does not compel him to pry open a writing-desk in an occupied house.Besides, when the jeweler Janice bought you the diamond ring I gave you, you killed him as soon as you got 45,000 francs, and you wanted to get the ring and the money at the same time. Was that also for the sake of being poor? ? Forgive me, sir!Caderousse said, You saved my life once, save me again! Such words are not very pleasant. Are you alone, or are there other soldiers lying in wait for me, sir? I'm alone, said the priest, and I can pity you one more time and let you go away, at the cost of my own soft-hearted regrets in the future, if you just tell me the truth. Ah, sir, cried Caderousse, clasping his hands, and drawing near to Monte Cristo, I should indeed say that you are my savior! You say someone rescued you from the peon boat? Yes, it is true, sir. Who is the person who saved you? an Englishman. What's his name? Lord Waymar. I know him, so I will know in the future whether you have lied or not. Your Excellency, what I tell you is the truth. So this Englishman protected you? No, not me, but a young Corsican and my companion on a chain. What was the name of this young Corsican? Benedetto. That is a Christian name. He has no other name.He is an outcast. So this young man fled with you? Yes. How did you escape? We work in our Saint-Mandy factory near Toulon.You know that place, right? Yes I know. Well, during nap time, that is between twelve o'clock and one o'clock at noon A slave on a peon's ship can doze off once after lunch!How much we should pity those poor people!said the priest. No, said Caderousse, a man cannot work forever, a man is not a dog! Still poor dog!said Monte Cristo. While the rest were sleeping, we went a little further off, broke our fetters with the file the Englishman had given us, and swam away. What became of this Benedetto? I have no idea. You should know. No, really we broke up at Yale.In order to emphasize the tone of this sentence, Caderousse took another step towards the abbe, who stood motionless where he had been, with a calm demeanor and a questioning look in his eyes. you are lying!said the Abbe Busoni in a tone of irresistible authority. Your Excellency! you are lying!This person is still your friend, and you may still use him as your ally. Oh, sir! How have you lived since you left Toulon?answer me! I eat what I can get. you are lying!For the third time the abbe spoke these words, in a more dignified tone than before. Caderousse looked at the count in amazement. You live off the money he gives you. Yes, yes, said Caderousse.Benedetto had become the son of a great nobleman. How could he become the son of a great nobleman? He would have been his son. What is the name of that nobleman? The Count of Monte Cristo is the master of the house in which we are now. Benedetto is the count's son!This time, replied Monte Cristo, it was his turn to express surprise. Um!I believe so, because the count found him a false father, because the count gave him four thousand francs a month, and left him half a million francs in his will. oh oh!The false priest said he was beginning to understand.What is the young man's current name? Andrea Cavalcanti. The young man, then, at whose house my friend the Count of Monte Cristo had entertained, who was about to marry Mademoiselle Danglars? Not bad at all. You bastard!You, do you know the shameful life he lived in the past, and you can't bear to say anything? Why should I hinder a partner's good deeds?Caderousse said. You are right, it is not you who should inform M. Danglars, but I. Don't do that, sir. why not? Because you're going to break us both. And do you think, in order to save such a villain as you, I can condone your conspiracy and be your accomplice? Your Excellency the Abbe.said Caderousse, coming closer. I'm going to expose everything. To whom? Monsieur Danglars. God!cried Caderousse, drawing from his waistcoat an open knife, and stabbing the count in the chest, you will reveal nothing, my lord abbe. To Caderousse's great surprise, instead of piercing the count's chest, the knife snapped off and bounced back.At this moment the count seized the assassin's wrist with his left hand, and with a twist, the knife fell from between his stiff fingers.Caderousse uttered a cry of pain, but the count, in spite of his screams, continued to wring the bandit's wrists until he lost his joints, fell to his knees, and fell on his back to the floor.Then the count put his foot on his head, and said: I don't know what keeps me from crushing your head, you rascal! Oh, have mercy, have mercy!cried Caderousse. The Count withdrew his foot.stand up!He said. Caderousse got up.Oh, what strength of your wrist, my lord!he said, slapping his arm that was blue and blue with the flesh clamp! shut up!God give me the strength to subdue a beast like you.I'm doing God's work, remember, beast!I forgive you now, but for him. oh!Caderousse groaned bitterly. Take this pen and this paper, I tell you to write. I cannot write, sir. you are lying!Grab this pen and write! Caderousse, awed by the majesty of the priest, sat down and wrote: The man who is being received by you now, sir, and who is about to marry your daughter, is a felon who escaped with me from the Toulon labor ship. It's number fifty-nine, and I'm number fifty-eight.His name was Benedetto, but he did not know his real name, because he never knew who his parents were. sign!the count continued. Aren't you trying to ruin my life? If I were to take your life, fool, I'd drag you to the nearest police station.And, once this letter is sent, you will probably be free from fear.So, sign it! Caderousse signed. The address is, Avenue Anton, Baron Danglars' House, Mr. Danglars. Caderousse wrote the address.The priest took the letter.Now, he said, that's enough, let's go! Which way to go out? The way you came. Do you want me to get out of that window? It's very convenient when you come in. oh!You have conceived a plan against me, sir. fool!What can I plan? Then why don't you let me go out through the gate? What good is waking up the concierge? Your Excellency, tell me, you do not wish me to die? I make the will of God my hope. But you swear an oath that you will never hit me when I go down. Cowardly fool! What are you going to do with me? I ask you what can I do with you?I tried to make you a happy man, and I made you an assassin. Monsieur the priest, said Caderousse, try again, try me again! Yes, said the Count.listen!You know I'm a man of my word? Yes.Caderousse said. If you return home safely What else am I afraid of but you? If you get home safe and sound, leave Paris, leave France, wherever you are, if you behave yourself, I'll send you a small pension because if you come home safe at home, then So?Caderousse shuddered. Then I believe that God has forgiven you, and I can forgive you. In truth, stammered Caderousse, you frighten me to death! go quickly!said the Count, pointing to the window. Despite this assurance, Caderousse was still not quite relieved, and he stepped out of the window and stood on the ladder. Come down quickly, said the priest, folding his arms.Caderousse, knowing that he had no need to be afraid of him, began to go down.The count then moved the little candle to the window, so that a man could be seen on the Champs-Elysées avenging himself out of the window, and another was holding a candle to light him. What are you doing, sir?What if a patrolman passes by?So he blew out the candle, and went down; he was not relieved until his feet touched the ground. Monte Cristo returned to his chamber, and looked hastily from the garden to the street; first he saw Cuderosse go to the foot of the garden wall, and lean his ladder against the wall, in a different place from where he had entered.Then the count looked up the street, and saw the man who seemed to be waiting, running in the same direction, and hiding himself in the corner of the wall through which Caderousse was about to turn.Caderousse climbed slowly up the ladder, and looked over the wall to see if the street was still.He could neither see nor hear human voices.The clock in the nursing home for disabled soldiers struck.So Caderousse, riding on the top of the wall, drew up the ladder, and leaned it against the wall; He was so at ease, a testament to how well-trained he was.But once he started sliding down, he couldn't stop halfway.Although he saw a figure coming out of the shadows when he was halfway down, he could do nothing; although he saw an arm raised when he was down, he could do nothing.Before he could defend himself, the arm struck him on the back so violently that he let go of the ladder and yelled for help!kill!While he was rolling on the ground like this, his opponent grabbed him by the hair and stabbed him again in the chest.This time, although Caderousse tried to scream, he could only utter a moan; blood flowed from three wounds, and he shivered involuntarily.Seeing that he could no longer scream, the murderer pulled his hair and turned his head; his eyes were closed, and his mouth was on one side.Thinking he was dead, the killer let go of his head and slipped away.Caderousse felt that the murderer was gone, and propping himself up on his elbows, he cried out with all his might in a dying voice: "Murder!"I am going to die!Help, sir, sir!help! This doleful appeal pierces the darkness.The door to the rear staircase opened, and then the side door to the garden; Ali and his master came to the scene of the accident with candles.