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Count of Monte Cristo, The
Chapter 48 - Ideology
Alexandre Dumas
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       _ If the Count of Monte Cristo had been for a long time
       familiar with the ways of Parisian society, he would have
       appreciated better the significance of the step which M. de
       Villefort had taken. Standing well at court, whether the
       king regnant was of the older or younger branch, whether the
       government was doctrinaire liberal, or conservative; looked
       upon by all as a man of talent, since those who have never
       experienced a political check are generally so regarded;
       hated by many, but warmly supported by others, without being
       really liked by anybody, M. de Villefort held a high
       position in the magistracy, and maintained his eminence like
       a Harlay or a Mole. His drawing-room, under the regenerating
       influence of a young wife and a daughter by his first
       marriage, scarcely eighteen, was still one of the
       well-regulated Paris salons where the worship of traditional
       customs and the observance of rigid etiquette were carefully
       maintained. A freezing politeness, a strict fidelity to
       government principles, a profound contempt for theories and
       theorists, a deep-seated hatred of ideality, -- these were
       the elements of private and public life displayed by M. de
       Villefort.
       He was not only a magistrate, he was almost a diplomatist.
       His relations with the former court, of which he always
       spoke with dignity and respect, made him respected by the
       new one, and he knew so many things, that not only was he
       always carefully considered, but sometimes consulted.
       Perhaps this would not have been so had it been possible to
       get rid of M. de Villefort; but, like the feudal barons who
       rebelled against their sovereign, he dwelt in an impregnable
       fortress. This fortress was his post as king's attorney, all
       the advantages of which he exploited with marvellous skill,
       and which he would not have resigned but to be made deputy,
       and thus to replace neutrality by opposition. Ordinarily M.
       de Villefort made and returned very few visits. His wife
       visited for him, and this was the received thing in the
       world, where the weighty and multifarious occupations of the
       magistrate were accepted as an excuse for what was really
       only calculated pride, a manifestation of professed
       superiority -- in fact, the application of the axiom,
       "Pretend to think well of yourself, and the world will think
       well of you," an axiom a hundred times more useful in
       society nowadays than that of the Greeks, "Know thyself," a
       knowledge for which, in our days, we have substituted the
       less difficult and more advantageous science of knowing
       others.
       To his friends M. de Villefort was a powerful protector; to
       his enemies, he was a silent, but bitter opponent; for those
       who were neither the one nor the other, he was a statue of
       the law-made man. He had a haughty bearing, a look either
       steady and impenetrable or insolently piercing and
       inquisitorial. Four successive revolutions had built and
       cemented the pedestal upon which his fortune was based. M.
       de Villefort had the reputation of being the least curious
       and the least wearisome man in France. He gave a ball every
       year, at which he appeared for a quarter of an hour only, --
       that is to say, five and forty minutes less than the king is
       visible at his balls. He was never seen at the theatres, at
       concerts, or in any place of public resort. Occasionally,
       but seldom, he played at whist, and then care was taken to
       select partners worthy of him -- sometimes they were
       ambassadors, sometimes archbishops, or sometimes a prince,
       or a president, or some dowager duchess. Such was the man
       whose carriage had just now stopped before the Count of
       Monte Cristo's door. The valet de chambre announced M. de
       Villefort at the moment when the count, leaning over a large
       table, was tracing on a map the route from St. Petersburg to
       China.
       The procureur entered with the same grave and measured step
       he would have employed in entering a court of justice. He
       was the same man, or rather the development of the same man,
       whom we have heretofore seen as assistant attorney at
       Marseilles. Nature, according to her way, had made no
       deviation in the path he had marked out for himself. From
       being slender he had now become meagre; once pale, he was
       now yellow; his deep-set eyes were hollow, and the gold
       spectacles shielding his eyes seemed to be an integral
       portion of his face. He dressed entirely in black, with the
       exception of his white tie, and his funeral appearance was
       only mitigated by the slight line of red ribbon which passed
       almost imperceptibly through his button-hole, and appeared
       like a streak of blood traced with a delicate brush.
       Although master of himself, Monte Cristo, scrutinized with
       irrepressible curiosity the magistrate whose salute he
       returned, and who, distrustful by habit, and especially
       incredulous as to social prodigies, was much more dispised
       to look upon "the noble stranger," as Monte Cristo was
       already called, as an adventurer in search of new fields, or
       an escaped criminal, rather than as a prince of the Holy
       See, or a sultan of the Thousand and One Nights.
       "Sir," said Villefort, in the squeaky tone assumed by
       magistrates in their oratorical periods, and of which they
       cannot, or will not, divest themselves in society, "sir, the
       signal service which you yesterday rendered to my wife and
       son has made it a duty for me to offer you my thanks. I have
       come, therefore, to discharge this duty, and to express to
       you my overwhelming gratitude." And as he said this, the
       "eye severe" of the magistrate had lost nothing of its
       habitual arrogance. He spoke in a voice of the
       procureur-general, with the rigid inflexibility of neck and
       shoulders which caused his flatterers to say (as we have
       before observed) that he was the living statue of the law.
       "Monsieur," replied the count, with a chilling air, "I am
       very happy to have been the means of preserving a son to his
       mother, for they say that the sentiment of maternity is the
       most holy of all; and the good fortune which occurred to me,
       monsieur, might have enabled you to dispense with a duty
       which, in its discharge, confers an undoubtedly great honor;
       for I am aware that M. de Villefort is not usually lavish of
       the favor which he now bestows on me, -- a favor which,
       however estimable, is unequal to the satisfaction which I
       have in my own consciousness." Villefort, astonished at this
       reply, which he by no means expected, started like a soldier
       who feels the blow levelled at him over the armor he wears,
       and a curl of his disdainful lip indicated that from that
       moment he noted in the tablets of his brain that the Count
       of Monte Cristo was by no means a highly bred gentleman. He
       glanced around. in order to seize on something on which the
       conversation might turn, and seemed to fall easily on a
       topic. He saw the map which Monte Cristo had been examining
       when he entered, and said, "You seem geographically engaged,
       sir? It is a rich study for you, who, as I learn, have seen
       as many lands as are delineated on this map."
       "Yes, sir," replied the count; "l have sought to make of the
       human race, taken in the mass, what you practice every day
       on individuals -- a physiological study. I have believed it
       was much easier to descend from the whole to a part than to
       ascend from a part to the whole. It is an algebraic axiom,
       which makes us proceed from a known to an unknown quantity,
       and not from an unknown to a known; but sit down, sir, I beg
       of you."
       Monte Cristo pointed to a chair, which the procureur was
       obliged to take the trouble to move forwards himself, while
       the count merely fell back into his own, on which he had
       been kneeling when M. Villefort entered. Thus the count was
       halfway turned towards his visitor, having his back towards
       the window, his elbow resting on the geographical chart
       which furnished the theme of conversation for the moment, --
       a conversation which assumed, as in the case of the
       interviews with Danglars and Morcerf, a turn analogous to
       the persons, if not to the situation. "Ah, you
       philosophize," replied Villefort, after a moment's silence,
       during which, like a wrestler who encounters a powerful
       opponent, he took breath; "well, sir, really, if, like you,
       I had nothing else to do, I should seek a more amusing
       occupation."
       "Why, in truth, sir," was Monte Cristo's reply, "man is but
       an ugly caterpillar for him who studies him through a solar
       microscope; but you said, I think, that I had nothing else
       to do. Now, really, let me ask, sir, have you? -- do you
       believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms,
       do you really think that what you do deserves being called
       anything?"
       Villefort's astonishment redoubled at this second thrust so
       forcibly made by his strange adversary. It was a long time
       since the magistrate had heard a paradox so strong, or
       rather, to say the truth more exactly, it was the first time
       he had ever heard of it. The procureur exerted himself to
       reply. "Sir," he responded, "you are a stranger, and I
       believe you say yourself that a portion of your life has
       been spent in Oriental countries, so you are not aware how
       human justice, so expeditions in barbarous countries, takes
       with us a prudent and well-studied course."
       "Oh, yes -- yes, I do, sir; it is the pede claudo of the
       ancients. I know all that, for it is with the justice of all
       countries especially that I have occupied myself -- it is
       with the criminal procedure of all nations that I have
       compared natural justice, and I must say, sir, that it is
       the law of primitive nations, that is, the law of
       retaliation, that I have most frequently found to be
       according to the law of God."
       "If this law were adopted, sir," said the procureur, "it
       would greatly simplify our legal codes, and in that case the
       magistrates would not (as you just observed) have much to
       do."
       "It may, perhaps, come to this in time," observed Monte
       Cristo; "you know that human inventions march from the
       complex to the simple, and simplicity is always perfection."
       "In the meanwhile," continued the magistrate, "our codes are
       in full force, with all their contradictory enactments
       derived from Gallic customs, Roman laws, and Frank usages;
       the knowledge of all which, you will agree, is not to be
       acquired without extended labor; it needs tedious study to
       acquire this knowledge, and, when acquired, a strong power
       of brain to retain it."
       "I agree with you entirely, sir; but all that even you know
       with respect to the French code, I know, not only in
       reference to that code, but as regards the codes of all
       nations. The English, Turkish, Japanese, Hindu laws, are as
       familiar to me as the French laws, and thus I was right,
       when I said to you, that relatively (you know that
       everything is relative, sir) -- that relatively to what I
       have done, you have very little to do; but that relatively
       to all I have learned, you have yet a great deal to learn."
       "But with what motive have you learned all this?" inquired
       Villefort, in astonishment. Monte Cristo smiled. "Really,
       sir," he observed, "I see that in spite of the reputation
       which you have acquired as a superior man, you look at
       everything from the material and vulgar view of society,
       beginning with man, and ending with man -- that is to say,
       in the most restricted, most narrow view which it is
       possible for human understanding to embrace."
       "Pray, sir, explain yourself," said Villefort, more and more
       astonished, "I really do -- not -- understand you --
       perfectly."
       "I say, sir, that with the eyes fixed on the social
       organization of nations, you see only the springs of the
       machine, and lose sight of the sublime workman who makes
       them act; I say that you do not recognize before you and
       around you any but those office-holders whose commissions
       have been signed by a minister or king; and that the men
       whom God has put above those office-holders, ministers, and
       kings, by giving them a mission to follow out, instead of a
       post to fill -- I say that they escape your narrow, limited
       field of observation. It is thus that human weakness fails,
       from its debilitated and imperfect organs. Tobias took the
       angel who restored him to light for an ordinary young man.
       The nations took Attila, who was doomed to destroy them, for
       a conqueror similar to other conquerors, and it was
       necessary for both to reveal their missions, that they might
       be known and acknowledged; one was compelled to say, `I am
       the angel of the Lord'; and the other, `I am the hammer of
       God,' in order that the divine essence in both might be
       revealed."
       "Then," said Villefort, more and more amazed, and really
       supposing he was speaking to a mystic or a madman, "you
       consider yourself as one of those extraordinary beings whom
       you have mentioned?"
       "And why not?" said Monte Cristo coldly.
       "Your pardon, sir," replied Villefort, quite astounded, "but
       you will excuse me if, when I presented myself to you, I was
       unaware that I should meet with a person whose knowledge and
       understanding so far surpass the usual knowledge and
       understanding of men. It is not usual with us corrupted
       wretches of civilization to find gentlemen like yourself,
       possessors, as you are, of immense fortune -- at least, so
       it is said -- and I beg you to observe that I do not
       inquire, I merely repeat; -- it is not usual, I say, for
       such privileged and wealthy beings to waste their time in
       speculations on the state of society, in philosophical
       reveries, intended at best to console those whom fate has
       disinherited from the goods of this world."
       "Really, sir," retorted the count, "have you attained the
       eminent situation in which you are, without having admitted,
       or even without having met with exceptions? and do you never
       use your eyes, which must have acquired so much finesse and
       certainty, to divine, at a glance, the kind of man by whom
       you are confronted? Should not a magistrate be not merely
       the best administrator of the law, but the most crafty
       expounder of the chicanery of his profession, a steel probe
       to search hearts, a touchstone to try the gold which in each
       soul is mingled with more or less of alloy?"
       "Sir," said Villefort, "upon my word, you overcome me. I
       really never heard a person speak as you do."
       "Because you remain eternally encircled in a round of
       general conditions, and have never dared to raise your wings
       into those upper spheres which God has peopled with
       invisible or exceptional beings."
       "And you allow then, sir, that spheres exist, and that these
       marked and invisible beings mingle amongst us?"
       "Why should they not? Can you see the air you breathe, and
       yet without which you could not for a moment exist?"
       "Then we do not see those beings to whom you allude?"
       "Yes, we do; you see them whenever God pleases to allow them
       to assume a material form. You touch them, come in contact
       with them, speak to them, and they reply to you."
       "Ah," said Villefort, smiling, "I confess I should like to
       be warned when one of these beings is in contact with me."
       "You have been served as you desire, monsieur, for you were
       warned just now, and I now again warn you."
       "Then you yourself are one of these marked beings?"
       "Yes, monsieur, I believe so; for until now, no man has
       found himself in a position similar to mine. The dominions
       of kings are limited either by mountains or rivers, or a
       change of manners, or an alteration of language. My kingdom
       is bounded only by the world, for I am not an Italian, or a
       Frenchman, or a Hindu, or an American, or a Spaniard -- I am
       a cosmopolite. No country can say it saw my birth. God alone
       knows what country will see me die. I adopt all customs,
       speak all languages. You believe me to be a Frenchman, for I
       speak French with the same facility and purity as yourself.
       Well, Ali, my Nubian, believes me to be an Arab; Bertuccio,
       my steward, takes me for a Roman; Haidee, my slave, thinks
       me a Greek. You may, therefore, comprehend, that being of no
       country, asking no protection from any government,
       acknowledging no man as my brother, not one of the scruples
       that arrest the powerful, or the obstacles which paralyze
       the weak, paralyzes or arrests me. I have only two
       adversaries -- I will not say two conquerors, for with
       perseverance I subdue even them, -- they are time and
       distance. There is a third, and the most terrible -- that is
       my condition as a mortal being. This alone can stop me in my
       onward career, before I have attained the goal at which I
       aim, for all the rest I have reduced to mathematical terms.
       What men call the chances of fate -- namely, ruin, change,
       circumstances -- I have fully anticipated, and if any of
       these should overtake me, yet it will not overwhelm me.
       Unless I die, I shall always be what I am, and therefore it
       is that I utter the things you have never heard, even from
       the mouths of kings -- for kings have need, and other
       persons have fear of you. For who is there who does not say
       to himself, in a society as incongruously organized as ours,
       `Perhaps some day I shall have to do with the king's
       attorney'?"
       "But can you not say that, sir? The moment you become an
       inhabitant of France, you are naturally subjected to the
       French law."
       "I know it sir," replied Monte Cristo; "but when I visit a
       country I begin to study, by all the means which are
       available, the men from whom I may have anything to hope or
       to fear, till I know them as well as, perhaps better than,
       they know themselves. It follows from this, that the king's
       attorney, be he who he may, with whom I should have to deal,
       would assuredly be more embarrassed than I should."
       "That is to say," replied Villefort with hesitation, "that
       human nature being weak, every man, according to your creed,
       has committed faults."
       "Faults or crimes," responded Monte Cristo with a negligent
       air.
       "And that you alone, amongst the men whom you do not
       recognize as your brothers -- for you have said so,"
       observed Villefort in a tone that faltered somewhat -- "you
       alone are perfect."
       "No, not perfect," was the count's reply; "only
       impenetrable, that's all. But let us leave off this strain,
       sir, if the tone of it is displeasing to you; I am no more
       disturbed by your justice than are you by my second-sight."
       "No, no, -- by no means," said Villefort, who was afraid of
       seeming to abandon his ground. "No; by your brilliant and
       almost sublime conversation you have elevated me above the
       ordinary level; we no longer talk, we rise to dissertation.
       But you know how the theologians in their collegiate chairs,
       and philosophers in their controversies, occasionally say
       cruel truths; let us suppose for the moment that we are
       theologizing in a social way, or even philosophically, and I
       will say to you, rude as it may seem, `My brother, you
       sacrifice greatly to pride; you may be above others, but
       above you there is God.'"
       "Above us all, sir," was Monte Cristo's response, in a tone
       and with an emphasis so deep that Villefort involuntarily
       shuddered. "I have my pride for men -- serpents always ready
       to threaten every one who would pass without crushing them
       under foot. But I lay aside that pride before God, who has
       taken me from nothing to make me what I am."
       "Then, count, I admire you," said Villefort, who, for the
       first time in this strange conversation, used the
       aristocratic form to the unknown personage, whom, until now,
       he had only called monsieur. "Yes, and I say to you, if you
       are really strong, really superior, really pious, or
       impenetrable, which you were right in saying amounts to the
       same thing -- then be proud, sir, for that is the
       characteristic of predominance. Yet you have unquestionably
       some ambition."
       "I have, sir."
       "And what may it be?"
       "I too, as happens to every man once in his life, have been
       taken by Satan into the highest mountain in the earth, and
       when there he showed me all the kingdoms of the world, and
       as he said before, so said he to me, `Child of earth, what
       wouldst thou have to make thee adore me?' I reflected long,
       for a gnawing ambition had long preyed upon me, and then I
       replied, `Listen, -- I have always heard of providence, and
       yet I have never seen him, or anything that resembles him,
       or which can make me believe that he exists. I wish to be
       providence myself, for I feel that the most beautiful,
       noblest, most sublime thing in the world, is to recompense
       and punish.' Satan bowed his head, and groaned. `You
       mistake,' he said, `providence does exist, only you have
       never seen him, because the child of God is as invisible as
       the parent. You have seen nothing that resembles him,
       because he works by secret springs, and moves by hidden
       ways. All I can do for you is to make you one of the agents
       of that providence.' The bargain was concluded. I may
       sacrifice my soul, but what matters it?" added Monte Cristo.
       "If the thing were to do again, I would again do it."
       Villefort looked at Monte Cristo with extreme amazement.
       "Count," he inquired, "have you any relations?"
       "No, sir, I am alone in the world."
       "So much the worse."
       "Why?" asked Monte Cristo.
       "Because then you might witness a spectacle calculated to
       break down your pride. You say you fear nothing but death?"
       "I did not say that I feared it; I only said that death
       alone could check the execution of my plans."
       "And old age?"
       "My end will be achieved before I grow old."
       "And madness?"
       "I have been nearly mad; and you know the axiom, -- non bis
       in idem. It is an axiom of criminal law, and, consequently,
       you understand its full application."
       "Sir," continued Villefort, "there is something to fear
       besides death, old age, and madness. For instance, there is
       apoplexy -- that lightning-stroke which strikes but does not
       destroy you, and yet which brings everything to an end. You
       are still yourself as now, and yet you are yourself no
       longer; you who, like Ariel, verge on the angelic, are but
       an inert mass, which, like Caliban, verges on the brutal;
       and this is called in human tongues, as I tell you, neither
       more nor less than apoplexy. Come, if so you will, count,
       and continue this conversation at my house, any day you may
       be willing to see an adversary capable of understanding and
       anxious to refute you, and I will show you my father, M.
       Noirtier de Villefort, one of the most fiery Jacobins of the
       French Revolution; that is to say, he had the most
       remarkable audacity, seconded by a most powerful
       organization -- a man who has not, perhaps, like yourself
       seen all the kingdoms of the earth, but who has helped to
       overturn one of the greatest; in fact, a man who believed
       himself, like you, one of the envoys, not of God, but of a
       supreme being; not of providence, but of fate. Well, sir,
       the rupture of a blood-vessel on the lobe of the brain has
       destroyed all this, not in a day, not in an hour, but in a
       second. M. Noirtier, who, on the previous night, was the old
       Jacobin, the old senator, the old Carbonaro, laughing at the
       guillotine, the cannon, and the dagger -- M. Noirtier,
       playing with revolutions -- M. Noirtier, for whom France was
       a vast chess-board, from which pawns, rooks, knights, and
       queens were to disappear, so that the king was checkmated --
       M. Noirtier, the redoubtable, was the next morning `poor M.
       Noirtier,' the helpless old man, at the tender mercies of
       the weakest creature in the household, that is, his
       grandchild, Valentine; a dumb and frozen carcass, in fact,
       living painlessly on, that time may be given for his frame
       to decompose without his consciousness of its decay."
       "Alas, sir," said Monte Cristo "this spectacle is neither
       strange to my eye nor my thought. I am something of a
       physician, and have, like my fellows, sought more than once
       for the soul in living and in dead matter; yet, like
       providence, it has remained invisible to my eyes, although
       present to my heart. A hundred writers since Socrates,
       Seneca, St. Augustine, and Gall, have made, in verse and
       prose, the comparison you have made, and yet I can well
       understand that a father's sufferings may effect great
       changes in the mind of a son. I will call on you, sir, since
       you bid me contemplate, for the advantage of my pride, this
       terrible spectacle, which must have been so great a source
       of sorrow to your family."
       "It would have been so unquestionably, had not God given me
       so large a compensation. In contrast with the old man, who
       is dragging his way to the tomb, are two children just
       entering into life -- Valentine, the daughter by my first
       wife -- Mademoiselle Renee de Saint-Meran -- and Edward, the
       boy whose life you have this day saved."
       "And what is your deduction from this compensation, sir?"
       inquired Monte Cristo.
       "My deduction is," replied Villefort, "that my father, led
       away by his passions, has committed some fault unknown to
       human justice, but marked by the justice of God. That God,
       desirous in his mercy to punish but one person, has visited
       this justice on him alone." Monte Cristo with a smile on his
       lips, uttered in the depths of his soul a groan which would
       have made Villefort fly had he but heard it. "Adieu, sir,"
       said the magistrate, who had risen from his seat; "I leave
       you, bearing a remembrance of you -- a remembrance of
       esteem, which I hope will not be disagreeable to you when
       you know me better; for I am not a man to bore my friends,
       as you will learn. Besides, you have made an eternal friend
       of Madame de Villefort." The count bowed, and contented
       himself with seeing Villefort to the door of his cabinet,
       the procureur being escorted to his carriage by two footmen,
       who, on a signal from their master, followed him with every
       mark of attention. When he had gone, Monte Cristo breathed a
       profound sigh, and said, -- "Enough of this poison, let me
       now seek the antidote." Then sounding his bell, he said to
       Ali, who entered, "I am going to madam's chamber -- have the
       carriage ready at one o'clock." _
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本书目录

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 Chateau 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 Abbe's Chamber
Chapter 18 - The Treasure
Chapter 19 - The Third Attack
Chapter 20 - The Cemetery of the Chateau 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
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 Compact
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
Chapter 48 - Ideology
Chapter 49 - Haidee
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 Lucerne 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 that eat His Peaches
Chapter 62 - Ghosts
Chapter 63 - The Dinner
Chapter 64 - The Beggar
Chapter 65 - A Conjugal Scene
Chapter 66 - Matrimonial Projects
Chapter 67 - At 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-Meran
Chapter 73 - The Promise
Chapter 74 - The Villefort Family Vault
Chapter 75 - A Signed Statement
Chapter 76 - Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger
Chapter 77 - Haidee
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 - A Nocturnal Interview
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
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 Pere-la-Chaise
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