The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas [some good books to read TXT] 📗
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Title: The Count of Monte Cristo
Author: Alexandre Dumas, père
Release Date: November 8, 2008 [EBook #1184]
Last Updated: February 24, 2017
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO ***
Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers, Dan Muller, and David Widger
VOLUME ONE
Chapter 1. Marseilles—The Arrival
Chapter 2. Father and Son
Chapter 3. The Catalans
Chapter 4. Conspiracy
Chapter 5. The Marriage Feast
Chapter 6. The Deputy Procureur du Roi
Chapter 7. The Examination
Chapter 8. The Château d’If
Chapter 9. The Evening of the Betrothal
Chapter 10. The King’s Closet at the Tuileries
Chapter 11. The Corsican Ogre
Chapter 12. Father and Son
Chapter 13. The Hundred Days
Chapter 14. The Two Prisoners
Chapter 15. Number 34 and Number 27
Chapter 16. A Learned Italian
Chapter 17. The Abbé’s Chamber
Chapter 18. The Treasure
Chapter 19. The Third Attack
Chapter 20. The Cemetery of the Château d’If
Chapter 21. The Island of Tiboulen
Chapter 22. The Smugglers
Chapter 23. The Island of Monte Cristo
Chapter 24. The Secret Cave
Chapter 25. The Unknown
Chapter 26. The Pont du Gard Inn
Chapter 27. The Story
VOLUME TWO
Chapter 28. The Prison Register
Chapter 29. The House of Morrel & Son
Chapter 30. The Fifth of September
Chapter 31. Italy: Sinbad the Sailor
Chapter 32. The Waking
Chapter 33. Roman Bandits
Chapter 34. The Colosseum
Chapter 35. La Mazzolata
Chapter 36. The Carnival at Rome.
Chapter 37. The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian
Chapter 38. The Rendezvous
Chapter 39. The Guests
Chapter 40. The Breakfast
Chapter 41. The Presentation
Chapter 42. Monsieur Bertuccio
Chapter 43. The House at Auteuil
Chapter 44. The Vendetta
Chapter 45. The Rain of Blood
Chapter 46. Unlimited Credit
Chapter 47. The Dappled Grays
VOLUME THREE
Chapter 48. Ideology
Chapter 49. Haydée
Chapter 50. The Morrel Family
Chapter 51. Pyramus and Thisbe
Chapter 52. Toxicology
Chapter 53. Robert le Diable
Chapter 54. A Flurry in Stocks
Chapter 55. Major Cavalcanti
Chapter 56. Andrea Cavalcanti
Chapter 57. In the Lucern Patch
Chapter 58. M. Noirtier de Villefort
Chapter 59. The Will
Chapter 60. The Telegraph
Chapter 61. How a Gardener May Get Rid of the Dormice
Chapter 62. Ghosts
Chapter 63. The Dinner
Chapter 64. The Beggar
Chapter 65. A Conjugal Scene
Chapter 66. Matrimonial Projects
Chapter 67. The Office of the King’s Attorney
Chapter 68. A Summer Ball
Chapter 69. The Inquiry
Chapter 70. The Ball
Chapter 71. Bread and Salt
Chapter 72. Madame de Saint-Méran
Chapter 73. The Promise
VOLUME FOUR
Chapter 74. The Villefort Family Vault
Chapter 75. A Signed Statement
Chapter 76. Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger
Chapter 77. Haydée
Chapter 78. We hear From Yanina
Chapter 79. The Lemonade
Chapter 80. The Accusation
Chapter 81. The Room of the Retired Baker
Chapter 82. The Burglary
Chapter 83. The Hand of God
Chapter 84. Beauchamp
Chapter 85. The Journey
Chapter 86. The Trial
Chapter 87. The Challenge
Chapter 88. The Insult
Chapter 89. The Night
Chapter 90. The Meeting
Chapter 91. Mother and Son
Chapter 92. The Suicide
Chapter 93. Valentine
Chapter 94. Maximilian’s Avowal
Chapter 95. Father and Daughter
VOLUME FIVE
Chapter 96. The Contract
Chapter 97. The Departure for Belgium
Chapter 98. The Bell and Bottle Tavern
Chapter 99. The Law
Chapter 100. The Apparition
Chapter 101. Locusta
Chapter 102. Valentine
Chapter 103. Maximilian
Chapter 104. Danglars’ Signature
Chapter 105. The Cemetery of Père-Lachaise
Chapter 106. Dividing the Proceeds
Chapter 107. The Lions’ Den
Chapter 108. The Judge
Chapter 109. The Assizes
Chapter 110. The Indictment
Chapter 111. Expiation
Chapter 112. The Departure
Chapter 113. The Past
Chapter 114. Peppino
Chapter 115. Luigi Vampa’s Bill of Fare
Chapter 116. The Pardon
Chapter 117. The Fifth of October
On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.
As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Château d’If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgiou and Rion island.
Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city.
The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomègue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot.
The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Réserve basin.
When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship’s bulwarks.
He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.
“Ah, is it you, Dantès?” cried the man in the skiff. “What’s the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?”
“A great misfortune, M. Morrel,” replied the young man, “a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere.”
“And the cargo?” inquired the owner, eagerly.
“Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain Leclere——”
“What happened to him?” asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. “What happened to the worthy captain?”
“He died.”
“Fell into the sea?”
“No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony.” Then turning to the crew, he said, “Bear a hand there, to take in sail!”
All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner.
“And how did this misfortune occur?” inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted conversation.
“Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six-pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly,” added the young man with a melancholy smile, “to make war against the English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like everybody else.”
“Why, you see, Edmond,” replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every moment, “we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo——”
“Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage.”
Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: “Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!”
The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war.
“Let go—and clue up!” At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards.
“Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel,” said Dantès, observing the owner’s impatience, “here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning.”
The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which Dantès flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going to his task,
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