The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated by Alexandre Dumas
Chapter 46. Unlimited Credit
About two o’clock the following day a calash, drawn by a pair ofmagnificent English horses, stopped at the door of Monte Cristo and aperson, dressed in a blue coat, with buttons of a similar color, a whitewaistcoat, over which was displayed a massive gold chain, browntrousers, and a quantity of black hair descending so low over hiseyebrows as to leave it doubtful whether it were not artificial solittle did its jetty glossiness assimilate with the deep wrinklesstamped on his features—a person, in a word, who, although evidentlypast fifty, desired to be taken for not more than forty, bent forwardsfrom the carriage door, on the panels of which were emblazoned thearmorial bearings of a baron, and directed his groom to inquire at theporter’s lodge whether the Count of Monte Cristo resided there, and ifhe were within.
While waiting, the occupant of the carriage surveyed the house, thegarden as far as he could distinguish it, and the livery of servants whopassed to and fro, with an attention so close as to be somewhatimpertinent. His glance was keen but showed cunning rather thanintelligence; his lips were straight, and so thin that, as they closed,they were drawn in over the teeth; his cheek-bones were broad andprojecting, a never-failing proof of audacity and craftiness; while theflatness of his forehead, and the enlargement of the back of his skull,which rose much higher than his large and coarsely shaped ears, combinedto form a physiognomy anything but prepossessing, save in the eyes ofsuch as considered that the owner of so splendid an equipage must needsbe all that was admirable and enviable, more especially when they gazedon the enormous diamond that glittered in his shirt, and the red ribbonthat depended from his button-hole.
The groom, in obedience to his orders, tapped at the window of theporter’s lodge, saying:
“Pray, does not the Count of Monte Cristo live here?”
“His excellency does reside here,” replied the concierge; “but——” addedhe, glancing an inquiring look at Ali. Ali returned a sign in thenegative.
“But what?” asked the groom.
“His excellency does not receive visitors today.”
“Then here is my master’s card, the Baron Danglars. You will take it tothe count, and say that, although in haste to attend the Chamber, mymaster came out of his way to have the honor of calling upon him.”
“I never speak to his excellency,” replied the concierge; “the valet dechambre will carry your message.”
The groom returned to the carriage.
“Well?” asked Danglars.
The man, somewhat crest-fallen by the rebuke he had received, repeatedwhat the concierge had said.
“Bless me,” murmured Baron Danglars, “this must surely be a princeinstead of a count by their styling him ‘excellency,’ and only venturingto address him by the medium of his valet de chambre. However, it doesnot signify; he has a letter of credit on me, so I must see him when herequires his money.”
Then, throwing himself back in his carriage, Danglars called out to hiscoachman, in a voice that might be heard across the road, “To theChamber of Deputies.”
Apprised in time of the visit paid him, Monte Cristo had, from behindthe blinds of his pavilion, as minutely observed the baron, by means ofan excellent lorgnette, as Danglars himself had scrutinized the house,garden, and servants.
“That fellow has a decidedly bad countenance,” said the count in a toneof disgust, as he shut up his glass into its ivory case. “How comes itthat all do not retreat in aversion at sight of that flat, receding,serpent-like forehead, round, vulture-shaped head, and sharp-hookednose, like the beak of a buzzard? Ali,” cried he, striking at the sametime on the brazen gong. Ali appeared. “Summon Bertuccio,” said thecount. Almost immediately Bertuccio entered the apartment.
“Did your excellency desire to see me?” inquired he.
“I did,” replied the count. “You no doubt observed the horses standing afew minutes since at the door?”
“Certainly, your excellency. I noticed them for their remarkablebeauty.”
“Then how comes it,” said Monte Cristo with a frown, “that, when Idesired you to purchase for me the finest pair of horses to be found inParis, there is another pair, fully as fine as mine, not in my stables?”
At the look of displeasure, added to the angry tone in which the countspoke, Ali turned pale and held down his head.
“It is not your fault, my good Ali,” said the count in the Arabiclanguage, and with a gentleness none would have thought him capable ofshowing, either in voice or face—“it is not your fault. You do notunderstand the points of English horses.”
The countenance of poor Ali recovered its serenity.
“Permit me to assure your excellency,” said Bertuccio, “that the horsesyou speak of were not to be sold when I purchased yours.”
Monte Cristo shrugged his shoulders. “It seems, sir steward,” said he,“that you have yet to learn that all things are to be sold to such ascare to pay the price.”
“His excellency is not, perhaps, aware that M. Danglars gave 16,000francs for his horses?”
“Very well. Then offer him double that sum; a banker never loses anopportunity of doubling his capital.”
“Is your excellency really in earnest?” inquired the steward.
Monte Cristo regarded the person who durst presume to doubt his wordswith the look of one equally surprised and displeased.
“I have to pay a visit this evening,” replied he. “I desire that thesehorses, with completely new harness, may be at the door with mycarriage.”
Bertuccio bowed, and was about to retire; but when he reached the door,he paused, and then said, “At what o’clock does your excellency wish thecarriage and horses to be ready?”
“At five o’clock,” replied the count.
“I beg your excellency’s pardon,” interposed the steward in adeprecating manner, “for venturing to observe that it is already twoo’clock.”
“I am perfectly aware of that fact,” answered Monte Cristo calmly. Then,turning towards Ali, he said, “Let all the horses in my stables be ledbefore the windows of your young lady, that she may select those sheprefers for her carriage. Request her also to oblige me by sayingwhether it is her pleasure to dine with me; if so, let dinner be servedin her apartments. Now, leave me, and desire my valet de chambre to comehither.”
Scarcely had Ali disappeared when the valet entered the chamber.
“Monsieur Baptistin,” said the count, “you have been in my service oneyear, the time I generally give myself to judge of the merits ordemerits of those about me. You suit me very well.”
Baptistin bowed low.
“It only remains for me to know whether I also suit you?”
“Oh, your excellency!” exclaimed Baptistin eagerly.
“Listen, if you please, till I have finished speaking,” replied MonteCristo. “You receive 1,500 francs per annum for your services here—morethan many a brave subaltern, who continually risks his life for hiscountry, obtains. You live in a manner far superior to many clerks whowork ten times harder than you do for their money. Then, though yourselfa servant, you have other servants to wait upon you, take care of yourclothes, and see that your linen is duly prepared for you. Again, youmake a profit upon each article you purchase for my toilet, amounting inthe course of a year to a sum equalling your wages.”
“Nay, indeed, your excellency.”
“I am not condemning you for this, Monsieur Baptistin; but let yourprofits end here. It would be long indeed ere you would find solucrative a post as that you have now the good fortune to fill. Ineither ill-use nor ill-treat my servants by word or action. An error Ireadily forgive, but wilful negligence or forgetfulness, never. Mycommands are ordinarily short, clear, and precise; and I would rather beobliged to repeat my words twice, or even three times, than they shouldbe misunderstood. I am rich enough to know whatever I desire to know,and I can promise you I am not wanting in curiosity. If, then, I shouldlearn that you had taken upon yourself to speak of me to anyonefavorably or unfavorably, t
Baptistin bowed, and was proceeding towards the door.
“I forgot to mention to you,” said the count, “that I lay yearly aside acertain sum for each servant in my establishment; those whom I amcompelled to dismiss lose (as a matter of course) all participation inthis money, while their portion goes to the fund accumulating for thosedomestics who remain with me, and among whom it will be divided at mydeath. You have been in my service a year, your fund has already begunto accumulate—let it continue to do so.”
This address, delivered in the presence of Ali, who, not understandingone word of the language in which it was spoken, stood wholly unmoved,produced an effect on M. Baptistin only to be conceived by such as haveoccasion to study the character and disposition of French domestics.
“I assure your excellency,” said he, “that at least it shall be my studyto merit your approbation in all things, and I will take M. Ali as mymodel.”
“By no means,” replied the count in the most frigid tones; “Ali has manyfaults mixed with most excellent qualities. He cannot possibly serve youas a pattern for your conduct, not being, as you are, a paid servant,but a mere slave—a dog, who, should he fail in his duty towards me, Ishould not discharge from my service, but kill.”
Baptistin opened his eyes with astonishment.
“You seem incredulous,” said Monte Cristo, who repeated to Ali in theArabic language what he had just been saying to Baptistin in French.
The Nubian smiled assentingly to his master’s words, then, kneeling onone knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count. This corroborationof the lesson he had just received put the finishing stroke to thewonder and stupefaction of M. Baptistin. The count then motioned thevalet de chambre to retire, and to Ali to follow to his study, wherethey conversed long and earnestly together. As the hand of the clockpointed to five the count struck thrice upon his gong. When Ali waswanted one stroke was given, two summoned Baptistin, and threeBertuccio. The steward entered.
“My horses,” said Monte Cristo.
“They are at the door harnessed to the carriage as your excellencydesired. Does your excellency wish me to accompany him?”
“No, the coachman, Ali, and Baptistin will go.”
The count descended to the door of his mansion, and beheld his carriagedrawn by the very pair of horses he had so much admired in the morningas the property of Danglars. As he passed them he said:
“They are extremely handsome certainly, and you have done well topurchase them, although you were somewhat remiss not to have procuredthem sooner.”
“Indeed, your excellency, I had very considerable difficulty inobtaining them, and, as it is, they have cost an enormous price.”
“Does the sum you gave for them make the animals less beautiful,”inquired the count, shrugging his shoulders.
“Nay, if your excellency is satisfied, it is all that I could wish.Whither does your excellency desire to be driven?”
“To the residence of Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin.”
This conversation had passed as they stood upon the terrace, from whicha flight of stone steps led to the carriage-drive. As Bertuccio, with arespectful bow, was moving away, the count called him back.
“I have another commission for you, M. Bertuccio,” said he; “I amdesirous of having an estate by the seaside in Normandy—for instance,between Le Havre and Boulogne. You see I give you a wide range. It willbe absolutely necessary that the place you may select have a smallharbor, creek, or bay, into which my corvette can enter and remain atanchor. She draws only fifteen feet. She must be kept in constantreadiness to sail immediately I think proper to give the signal. Makethe requisite inquiries for a place of this description, and when youhave met with an eligible spot, visit it, and if it possess theadvantages desired, purchase it at once in your own name. The corvettemust now, I think, be on her way to Fécamp, must she not?”
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“Certainly, your excellency; I saw her put to sea the same evening wequitted Marseilles.”
“And the yacht.”
“Was ordered to remain at Martigues.”
“’Tis well. I wish you to write from time to time to the captains incharge of the two vessels so as to keep them on the alert.”
“And the steamboat?”
“She is at Châlons?”
“Yes.”
“The same orders for her as for the two sailing vessels.”
“Very good.”
“When you have purchased the estate I desire, I want constant relays ofhorses at ten leagues apart along the northern and southern road.”
“Your excellency may depend upon me.”
The Count made a gesture of satisfaction, descended the terrace steps,and sprang into his carriage, which was whirled along swiftly to thebanker’s house.
Danglars was engaged at that moment, presiding over a railroadcommittee. But the meeting was nearly concluded when the name of hisvisitor was announced. As the count’s title sounded on his ear he rose,and addressing his colleagues, who were members of one or the otherChamber, he said:
“Gentlemen, pardon me for leaving you so abruptly; but a most ridiculouscircumstance has occurred, which is this,—Thomson & French, the Romanbankers, have sent to me a certain person calling himself the Count ofMonte Cristo, and have given him an unlimited credit with me. I confessthis is the drollest thing I have ever met with in the course of myextensive foreign transactions, and you may readily suppose it hasgreatly roused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to call onthe pretended count—if he were a real count he wouldn’t be so rich. But,would you believe it, ‘He was not receiving.’ So the master of MonteCristo gives himself airs befitting a great millionaire or a capriciousbeauty. I made inquiries, and found that the house in the Champs-Élyséesis his own property, and certainly it was very decently kept up. But,”pursued Danglars with one of his sinister smiles, “an order forunlimited credit calls for something like caution on the part of thebanker to whom that order is given. I am very anxious to see this man. Isuspect a hoax is intended, but the instigators of it little knew whomthey had to deal with. ‘They laugh best who laugh last!’”
Having delivered himself of this pompous address, uttered with a degreeof energy that left the baron almost out of breath, he bowed to theassembled party and withdrew to his drawing-room, whose sumptuousfurnishings of white and gold had caused a great sensation in theChaussée d’Antin. It was to this apartment he had desired his guest tobe shown, with the purpose of overwhelming him at the sight of so muchluxury. He found the count standing before some copies of Albano andFattore that had been passed off to the banker as originals; but which,mere copies as they were, seemed to feel their degradation in beingbrought into juxtaposition with the gaudy colors that covered theceiling.
The count turned round as he heard the entrance of Danglars into theroom. With a slight inclination of the head, Danglars signed to thecount to be seated, pointing significantly to a gilded armchair, coveredwith white satin embroidered with gold. The count sat down.
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“I have the honor, I presume, of addressing M. de Monte Cristo.”
The count bowed.
“And I of speaking to Baron Danglars, chevalier of the Legion of Honor,and member of the Chamber of Deputies?”
Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the baron’s card.
Danglars felt the irony and compressed his lips.
“You will, I trust, excuse me, monsieur, for not calling you by yourtitle when I first addressed you,” he said, “but you are aware that weare living under a popular form of government, and that I am myself arepresentative of the liberties of the people.”
“So much so,” replied Monte Cristo, “that while you call yourself baronyou are not willing to call anybody else count.”
“Upon my word, mon
“But you have discarded your titles after the example set you by Messrs.de Montmorency and Lafayette? That was a noble example to follow,monsieur.”
“Why,” replied Danglars, “not entirely so; with the servants,—youunderstand.”
“I see; to your domestics you are ‘my lord,’ the journalists style you‘monsieur,’ while your constituents call you ‘citizen.’ These aredistinctions very suitable under a constitutional government. Iunderstand perfectly.”
Again Danglars bit his lips; he saw that he was no match for MonteCristo in an argument of this sort, and he therefore hastened to turn tosubjects more congenial.
“Permit me to inform you, Count,” said he, bowing, “that I have receiveda letter of advice from Thomson & French, of Rome.”
“I am glad to hear it, baron,—for I must claim the privilege ofaddressing you after the manner of your servants. I have acquired thebad habit of calling persons by their titles from living in a countrywhere barons are still barons by right of birth. But as regards theletter of advice, I am charmed to find that it has reached you; thatwill spare me the troublesome and disagreeable task of coming to you formoney myself. You have received a regular letter of advice?”
“Yes,” said Danglars, “but I confess I didn’t quite comprehend itsmeaning.”
“Indeed?”
“And for that reason I did myself the honor of calling upon you, inorder to beg for an explanation.”
“Go on, monsieur. Here I am, ready to give you any explanation youdesire.”
“Why,” said Danglars, “in the letter—I believe I have it about me”—herehe felt in his breast-pocket—“yes, here it is. Well, this letter givesthe Count of Monte Cristo unlimited credit on our house.”
“Well, baron, what is there difficult to understand about that?”
“Merely the term unlimited—nothing else, certainly.”
“Is not that word known in France? The people who wrote are Anglo-Germans, you know.”
“Oh, as for the composition of the letter, there is nothing to be said;but as regards the competency of the document, I certainly have doubts.”
“Is it possible?” asked the count, assuming all air and tone of theutmost simplicity and candor. “Is it possible that Thomson & French arenot looked upon as safe and solvent bankers? Pray tell me what youthink, baron, for I feel uneasy, I can assure you, having someconsiderable property in their hands.”
“Thomson & French are perfectly solvent,” replied Danglars, with analmost mocking smile; “but the word unlimited, in financial affairs, isso extremely vague.”
“Is, in fact, unlimited,” said Monte Cristo.
“Precisely what I was about to say,” cried Danglars. “Now what is vagueis doubtful; and it was a wise man who said, ‘when in doubt, keep out.’”
“Meaning to say,” rejoined Monte Cristo, “that however Thomson & Frenchmay be inclined to commit acts of imprudence and folly, the BaronDanglars is not disposed to follow their example.”
“Not at all.”
“Plainly enough; Messrs. Thomson & French set no bounds to theirengagements while those of M. Danglars have their limits; he is a wiseman, according to his own showing.”
“Monsieur,” replied the banker, drawing himself up with a haughty air,“the extent of my resources has never yet been questioned.”
“It seems, then, reserved for me,” said Monte Cristo coldly, “to be thefirst to do so.”
“By what right, sir?”
“By right of the objections you have raised, and the explanations youhave demanded, which certainly must have some motive.”
Once more Danglars bit his lips. It was the second time he had beenworsted, and this time on his own ground. His forced politeness satawkwardly upon him, and approached almost to impertinence. Monte Cristoon the contrary, preserved a graceful suavity of demeanor, aided by acertain degree of simplicity he could assume at pleasure, and thuspossessed the advantage.
“Well, sir,” resumed Danglars, after a brief silence, “I will endeavorto make myself understood, by requesting you to inform me for what sumyou propose to draw upon me?”
“Why, truly,” replied Monte Cristo, determined not to lose an inch ofthe ground he had gained, “my reason for desiring an ‘unlimited’ creditwas precisely because I did not know how much money I might need.”
The banker thought the time had come for him to take the upper hand. Sothrowing himself back in his armchair, he said, with an arrogant andpurse-proud air:
“Let me beg of you not to hesitate in naming your wishes; you will thenbe convinced that the resources of the house of Danglars, howeverlimited, are still equal to meeting the largest demands; and were youeven to require a million——”
“I beg your pardon,” interposed Monte Cristo.
“I said a million,” replied Danglars, with the confidence of ignorance.
“But could I do with a million?” retorted the count. “My dear sir, if atrifle like that could suffice me, I should never have given myself thetrouble of opening an account. A million? Excuse my smiling when youspeak of a sum I am in the habit of carrying in my pocket-book ordressing-case.”
And with these words Monte Cristo took from his pocket a small casecontaining his visiting-cards, and drew forth two orders on the treasuryfor 500,000 francs each, payable at sight to the bearer. A man likeDanglars was wholly inaccessible to any gentler method of correction.The effect of the present revelation was stunning; he trembled and wason the verge of apoplexy. The pupils of his eyes, as he gazed at MonteCristo dilated horribly.
“Come, come,” said Monte Cristo, “confess honestly that you have notperfect confidence in Thomson & French. I understand, and foreseeingthat such might be the case, I took, in spite of my ignorance ofaffairs, certain precautions. See, here are two similar letters to thatyou have yourself received; one from the house of Arstein & Eskeles ofVienna, to Baron Rothschild, the other drawn by Baring of London, uponM. Lafitte. Now, sir, you have but to say the word, and I will spare youall uneasiness by presenting my letter of credit to one or other ofthese two firms.”
The blow had struck home, and Danglars was entirely vanquished; with atrembling hand he took the two letters from the count, who held themcarelessly between finger and thumb, and proceeded to scrutinize thesignatures, with a minuteness that the count might have regarded asinsulting, had it not suited his present purpose to mislead the banker.
“Oh, sir,” said Danglars, after he had convinced himself of theauthenticity of the documents he held, and rising as if to salute thepower of gold personified in the man before him,—“three letters ofunlimited credit! I can be no longer mistrustful, but you must pardonme, my dear count, for confessing to some degree of astonishment.”
“Nay,” answered Monte Cristo, with the most gentlemanly air, “’tis notfor such trifling sums as these that your banking house is to beincommoded. Then, you can let me have some money, can you not?”
“Whatever you say, my dear count; I am at your orders.”
“Why,” replied Monte Cristo, “since we mutually understand eachother—for such I presume is the case?” Danglars bowed assentingly. “Youare quite sure that not a lurking doubt or suspicion lingers in yourmind?”
“Oh, my dear count,” exclaimed Danglars, “I never for an instantentertained such a feeling towards you.”
“No, you merely wished to be convinced, nothing more; but now that wehave come to so clear an understanding, and that all distrust andsuspicion are laid at rest, we may as well fix a sum as the probableexpenditure of the first year, suppose we say six millions to——”
“Six millions!” gasped Danglars—“so be it.”
“Then, if I should require more,” continued Monte Cristo in a carelessmanner, “why, of course, I should draw upo
“The money you desire shall be at your house by ten o’clock tomorrowmorning, my dear count,” replied Danglars. “How would you like to haveit? in gold, silver, or notes?”
“Half in gold, and the other half in bank-notes, if you please,” saidthe count, rising from his seat.
“I must confess to you, count,” said Danglars, “that I have hithertoimagined myself acquainted with the degree of all the great fortunes ofEurope, and still wealth such as yours has been wholly unknown to me.May I presume to ask whether you have long possessed it?”
“It has been in the family a very long while,” returned Monte Cristo, “asort of treasure expressly forbidden to be touched for a certain periodof years, during which the accumulated interest has doubled the capital.The period appointed by the testator for the disposal of these richesoccurred only a short time ago, and they have only been employed by mewithin the last few years. Your ignorance on the subject, therefore, iseasily accounted for. However, you will be better informed as to me andmy possessions ere long.”
And the count, while pronouncing these latter words, accompanied themwith one of those ghastly smiles that used to strike terror into poorFranz d’Épinay.
“With your tastes, and means of gratifying them,” continued Danglars,“you will exhibit a splendor that must effectually put us poor miserablemillionaires quite in the shade. If I mistake not you are an admirer ofpaintings, at least I judged so from the attention you appeared to bebestowing on mine when I entered the room. If you will permit me, Ishall be happy to show you my picture gallery, composed entirely ofworks by the ancient masters—warranted as such. Not a modern pictureamong them. I cannot endure the modern school of painting.”
“You are perfectly right in objecting to them, for this one greatfault—that they have not yet had time to become old.”
“Or will you allow me to show you several fine statues by Thorwaldsen,Bartoloni, and Canova?—all foreign artists, for, as you may perceive, Ithink but very indifferently of our French sculptors.”
“You have a right to be unjust to them, monsieur; they are yourcompatriots.”
“But all this may come later, when we shall be better known to eachother. For the present, I will confine myself (if perfectly agreeable toyou) to introducing you to the Baroness Danglars—excuse my impatience,my dear count, but a client like you is almost like a member of thefamily.”
Monte Cristo bowed, in sign that he accepted the proffered honor;Danglars rang and was answered by a servant in a showy livery.
“Is the baroness at home?” inquired Danglars.
“Yes, my lord,” answered the man.
“And alone?”
“No, my lord, madame has visitors.”
“Have you any objection to meet any persons who may be with madame, ordo you desire to preserve a strict incognito?”
“No, indeed,” replied Monte Cristo with a smile, “I do not arrogate tomyself the right of so doing.”
“And who is with madame?—M. Debray?” inquired Danglars, with an air ofindulgence and good-nature that made Monte Cristo smile, acquainted ashe was with the secrets of the banker’s domestic life.
“Yes, my lord,” replied the servant, “M. Debray is with madame.”
Danglars nodded his head; then, turning to Monte Cristo, said, “M.Lucien Debray is an old friend of ours, and private secretary to theMinister of the Interior. As for my wife, I must tell you, she loweredherself by marrying me, for she belongs to one of the most ancientfamilies in France. Her maiden name was De Servières, and her firsthusband was Colonel the Marquis of Nargonne.”
“I have not the honor of knowing Madame Danglars; but I have already metM. Lucien Debray.”
“Ah, indeed?” said Danglars; “and where was that?”
“At the house of M. de Morcerf.”
“Ah! you are acquainted with the young viscount, are you?”
“We were together a good deal during the Carnival at Rome.”
“True, true,” cried Danglars. “Let me see; have I not heard talk of somestrange adventure with bandits or thieves hid in ruins, and of hishaving had a miraculous escape? I forget how, but I know he used toamuse my wife and daughter by telling them about it after his returnfrom Italy.”
“Her ladyship is waiting to receive you, gentlemen,” said the servant,who had gone to inquire the pleasure of his mistress.
“With your permission,” said Danglars, bowing, “I will precede you, toshow you the way.”
“By all means,” replied Monte Cristo; “I follow you.”