The Count of Monte Cristo
“They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done, but
it was fruitless. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the
Palatine Hill; but in these days landed property had not much value,
and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they
were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. Months and years
rolled on. Alexander VI. died, poisoned,—you know by what mistake.
Cæsar, poisoned at the same time, escaped by shedding his skin like a
snake; but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a
tiger’s. Then, compelled to quit Rome, he went and got himself
obscurely killed in a night skirmish, scarcely noticed in history.
“After the pope’s death and his son’s exile, it was supposed that the
Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before
the cardinal’s time; but this was not the case. The Spadas remained in
doubtful ease, a mystery hung over this dark affair, and the public
rumor was, that Cæsar, a better politician than his father, had carried
off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I say the two,
because Cardinal Rospigliosi, who had not taken any precaution, was
completely despoiled.
“Up to this point,” said Faria, interrupting the thread of his
narrative, “this seems to you very meaningless, no doubt, eh?”
“Oh, my friend,” cried Dantès, “on the contrary, it seems as if I were
reading a most interesting narrative; go on, I beg of you.”
“I will. The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. Years
rolled on, and amongst the descendants some were soldiers, others
diplomatists; some churchmen, some bankers; some grew rich, and some
were ruined. I come now to the last of the family, whose secretary I
was—the Count of Spada. I had often heard him complain of the
disproportion of his rank with his fortune; and I advised him to invest
all he had in an annuity. He did so, and thus doubled his income. The
celebrated breviary remained in the family, and was in the count’s
possession. It had been handed down from father to son; for the
singular clause of the only will that had been found, had caused it to
be regarded as a genuine relic, preserved in the family with
superstitious veneration. It was an illuminated book, with beautiful
Gothic characters, and so weighty with gold, that a servant always
carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity.
“At the sight of papers of all sorts,—titles, contracts, parchments,
which were kept in the archives of the family, all descending from the
poisoned cardinal, I in my turn examined the immense bundles of
documents, like twenty servitors, stewards, secretaries before me; but
in spite of the most exhaustive researches, I found—nothing. Yet I had
read, I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family, for
the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had
occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Cæsar Spada; but could
only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi,
his companion in misfortune.
“I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited
the Borgias nor the family, but had remained unpossessed like the
treasures of the Arabian Nights, which slept in the bosom of the earth
under the eyes of the genie. I searched, ransacked, counted, calculated
a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the
family for three hundred years. It was useless. I remained in my
ignorance, and the Count of Spada in his poverty.
“My patron died. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers,
his library, composed of five thousand volumes, and his famous
breviary. All these he bequeathed to me, with a thousand Roman crowns,
which he had in ready money, on condition that I would have anniversary
masses said for the repose of his soul, and that I would draw up a
genealogical tree and history of his house. All this I did
scrupulously. Be easy, my dear Edmond, we are near the conclusion.
“In 1807, a month before I was arrested, and a fortnight after the
death of the Count of Spada, on the 25th of December (you will see
presently how the date became fixed in my memory), I was reading, for
the thousandth time, the papers I was arranging, for the palace was
sold to a stranger, and I was going to leave Rome and settle at
Florence, intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed,
my library, and the famous breviary, when, tired with my constant labor
at the same thing, and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten, my head
dropped on my hands, and I fell asleep about three o’clock in the
afternoon.
0243m
“I awoke as the clock was striking six. I raised my head; I was in
utter darkness. I rang for a light, but, as no one came, I determined
to find one for myself. It was indeed but anticipating the simple
manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. I took
a wax-candle in one hand, and with the other groped about for a piece
of paper (my match-box being empty), with which I proposed to get a
light from the small flame still playing on the embers. Fearing,
however, to make use of any valuable piece of paper, I hesitated for a
moment, then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary, which
was on the table beside me, an old paper quite yellow with age, and
which had served as a marker for centuries, kept there by the request
of the heirs. I felt for it, found it, twisted it up together, and
putting it into the expiring flame, set light to it.
“But beneath my fingers, as if by magic, in proportion as the fire
ascended, I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper. I grasped it
in my hand, put out the flame as quickly as I could, lighted my taper
in the fire itself, and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible
emotion, recognizing, when I had done so, that these characters had
been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink, only appearing when
exposed to the fire; nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by
the flame. It was that paper you read this morning; read it again,
Dantès, and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and
unconnected sense.”
Faria, with an air of triumph, offered the paper to Dantès, who this
time read the following words, traced with an ink of a reddish color
resembling rust:
“This 25th day of April, 1498, be...
Alexander VI., and fearing that not...
he may desire to become my heir, and re...
and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,...
my sole heir, that I have bu...
and has visited with me, that is, in...
Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss...
jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone...
may amount to nearly two mil...
will find on raising the twentieth ro...
creek to the east in a right line. Two open...
in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a...
which treasure I bequeath and leave en...
as my sole heir.
“25th April, 1498.
“Cæs...
“And now,” said the abbé, “read this other paper;” and he presented to
Dantès a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it, which
Edmond read as follows:
“...ing invited to dine by his Holiness
...content with making me pay for my hat,
...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara
...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada
...ried in a place he knows
...the caves of the small
...essed of ingots, gold, money,
...know of the existence of this treasure, which
...lions of Roman crowns, and which he
...ck from the small
...ings have been made
...ngle in the second;
...tire to him
...ar † Spada.”
Faria followed him with an excited look.
“And now,” he said, when he saw that Dantès had read the last line,
“put the two fragments together, and judge for yourself.” Dantès
obeyed, and the conjointed pieces gave the following:
0245m
“This 25th day of April, 1498, be...ing invited to dine by his Holiness
Alexander VI., and fearing that not...content with making me pay for my
hat, he may desire to become my heir, and re...serves for me the fate
of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,...I declare to
my nephew, Guido Spada, my sole heir, that I have bu...ried in a place
he knows and has visited with me, that is, in...the caves of the small
Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss...essed of ingots, gold, money,
jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone...know of the existence of this
treasure, which may amount to nearly two mil...lions of Roman crowns,
and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro...ck from the small
creek to the east in a right line. Two open...ings have been made in
these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a...ngle in the second;
which treasure I bequeath and leave en...tire to him as my sole heir.
“25th April, 1498. “Cæs...ar † Spada.”
“Well, do you comprehend now?” inquired Faria.
“It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada, and the will so long sought
for,” replied Edmond, still incredulous.
“Yes; a thousand times, yes!”
“And who completed it as it now is?”
“I did. Aided by the remaining fragment, I guessed the rest; measuring
the length of the lines by those of the paper, and divining the hidden
meaning by means of what was in part revealed, as we are guided in a
cavern by the small ray of light above us.”
“And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?”
“I resolved to set out, and did set out at that very instant, carrying
with me the beginning of my great work, the unity of the Italian
kingdom; but for some time the imperial police (who at this period,
quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to
him, wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me; and my
hasty departure, the cause of which they were unable to guess, having
aroused their suspicions, I was arrested at the very moment I was
leaving Piombino.
“Now,” continued Faria, addressing Dantès with an almost paternal
expression, “now, my dear fellow, you know as much as I do myself. If
we ever escape together, half this treasure is yours; if I die here,
and you escape alone, the whole belongs to you.”
“But,” inquired Dantès hesitating, “has this treasure no more
legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?”
“No, no, be easy on that score; the family is extinct. The last Count
of Spada, moreover, made me his heir, bequeathing to me this symbolic
breviary, he bequeathed to me all it contained; no, no, make your mind
satisfied on that point. If we lay hands on this fortune, we may enjoy
it without remorse.”
“And you say this treasure amounts to——”
“Two millions of Roman crowns; nearly thirteen millions of our money.”2
“Impossible!” said Dantès, staggered at the enormous amount.
“Impossible? and why?” asked the old man. “The Spada family was one of
the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century; and in
those times, when other opportunities for investment were wanting, such
accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare; there are at
this day Roman families perishing of hunger, though possessed of nearly
a million in diamonds and jewels, handed down by entail, and which they
cannot touch.”
Edmond thought he was in a dream—he wavered between incredulity and
joy.
“I have only kept this secret so long from you,” continued Faria, “that
I might test your character, and then surprise you. Had we escaped
before my attack of catalepsy, I should have conducted you to Monte
Cristo; now,” he added, with a sigh, “it is you who will conduct me