"But no monarch in Europe will be wealthy enough to purchase them."
"Then he will sell them to some Eastern vizier, who will empty his coffers to purchase them, and refill them by applying the bastinado to his subjects."
"Count, may I suggest one idea to you?"
"Certainly."
"It is that, next to you, Bertuccio must be the richest gentleman in Europe."
"You are mistaken, viscount; I believe he has not a franc in his possession."
"Then he must be a wonder.
My dear count, if you tell me many more marvellous things, I warn you I shall not believe them."
"I countenance nothing that is marvellous, M. Albert.
Tell me, why does a steward rob his master?"
"Because, I suppose, it is his nature to do so, for the love of robbing."
"You are mistaken; it is because he has a wife and family, and ambitious desires for himself and them. Also because he is not sure of always retaining his situation, and wishes to provide for the future.
Now, M. Bertuccio is alone in the world; he uses my property without accounting for the use he makes of it; he is sure never to leave my service."
"Why?"
"Because I should never get a better."
"Probabilities are deceptive."
"But I deal in certainties; he is the best servant over whom one has the power of life and death."
"Do you possess that right over Bertuccio?"
"Yes."
There are words which close a conversation with an iron door; such was the count's "yes."
The whole journey was performed with equal rapidity; the thirty-two horses, dispersed over seven stages, brought them to their destination in eight hours.
At midnight they arrived at the gate of a beautiful park.
The porter was in attendance; he had been apprised by the groom of the last stage of the count's approach.
At half past two in the morning Morcerf was conducted to his apartments, where a bath and supper were prepared.
The servant who had travelled at the back of the carriage waited on him; Baptistin, who rode in front, attended the count.
Albert bathed, took his supper, and went to bed.
All night he was lulled by the melancholy noise of the surf.
On rising, he went to his window, which opened on a terrace, having the sea in front, and at the back a pretty park bounded by a small forest.
In a creek lay a little sloop, with a narrow keel and high masts, bearing on its flag the Monte Cristo arms which were a mountain on a sea azure, with a cross gules on the shield. Around the schooner lay a number of small fishing-boats belonging to the fishermen of the neighboring village, like humble subjects awaiting orders from their queen.
There, as in every spot where Monte Cristo stopped, if but for two days, luxury abounded and life went on with the utmost ease.
Albert found in his anteroom two guns, with all the accoutrements for hunting; a lofty room on the ground-floor containing all the ingenious instruments the English--eminent in piscatory pursuits, since they are patient and sluggish--have invented for fishing.
The day passed in pursuing those exercises in which Monte Cristo excelled. They killed a dozen pheasants in the park, as many trout in the stream, dined in a summer-house overlooking the ocean, and took tea in the library.
Towards the evening of the third day. Albert, completely exhausted with the exercise which invigorated Monte Cristo, was sleeping in an arm-chair near the window, while the count was designing with his architect the plan of a conservatory in his house, when the sound of a horse at full speed on the high road made Albert look up. He was disagreeably surprised to see his own valet de chambre, whom he had not brought, that he might not inconvenience Monte Cristo.
"Florentin here!" cried he, starting up; "is my mother ill?"
And he hastened to the door.
Monte Cristo watched and saw him approach the valet, who drew a small sealed parcel from his pocket, containing a newspaper and a letter.
"From whom is this?" said he eagerly.
"From M. Beauchamp," replied Florentin.
"Did he send you?"
"Yes, sir; he sent for me to his house, gave me money for my journey, procured a horse, and made me promise not to stop till I had reached you, I have come in fifteen hours."
Albert opened the letter with fear, uttered a shriek on reading the first line, and seized the paper.
His sight was dimmed, his legs sank under him, and he would have fallen had not Florentin supported him.
"Poor young man," said Monte Cristo in a low voice; "it is then true that the sin of the father shall fall on the children to the third and fourth generation."
Meanwhile Albert had revived, and, continuing to read, he threw back his head, saying,
"Florentin, is your horse fit to return immediately?"
"It is a poor lame post-horse."
"In what state was the house when you left?"
"All was quiet, but on returning from M. Beauchamp's, I found madame in tears: she had sent for me to know when you would return.
I told her my orders from M. Beauchamp; she first extended her arms to prevent me, but after a moment's reflection,
'Yes, go, Florentin,' said she, 'and may he come quickly.'"