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Count of Monte Cristo, The
Chapter 57 - In the Lucerne Patch
Alexandre Dumas
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       _ Our readers must now allow us to transport them again to the
       enclosure surrounding M. de Villefort's house, and, behind
       the gate, half screened from view by the large
       chestnut-trees, which on all sides spread their luxuriant
       branches, we shall find some people of our acquaintance.
       This time Maximilian was the first to arrive. He was
       intently watching for a shadow to appear among the trees,
       and awaiting with anxiety the sound of a light step on the
       gravel walk. At length, the long-desired sound was heard,
       and instead of one figure, as he had expected, he perceived
       that two were approaching him. The delay had been occasioned
       by a visit from Madame Danglars and Eugenie, which had been
       prolonged beyond the time at which Valentine was expected.
       That she might not appear to fail in her promise to
       Maximilian, she proposed to Mademoiselle Danglars that they
       should take a walk in the garden, being anxious to show that
       the delay, which was doubtless a cause of vexation to him,
       was not occasioned by any neglect on her part. The young
       man, with the intuitive perception of a lover, quickly
       understood the circumstances in which she was involuntarily
       placed, and he was comforted. Besides, although she avoided
       coming within speaking distance, Valentine arranged so that
       Maximilian could see her pass and repass, and each time she
       went by, she managed, unperceived by her companion, to cast
       an expressive look at the young man, which seemed to say,
       "Have patience! You see it is not my fault." And Maximilian
       was patient, and employed himself in mentally contrasting
       the two girls, -- one fair, with soft languishing eyes, a
       figure gracefully bending like a weeping willow; the other a
       brunette, with a fierce and haughty expression, and as
       straight as a poplar. It is unnecessary to state that, in
       the eyes of the young man, Valentine did not suffer by the
       contrast. In about half an hour the girls went away, and
       Maximilian understood that Mademoiselle Danglars' visit had
       at last come to an end. In a few minutes Valentine
       re-entered the garden alone. For fear that any one should be
       observing her return, she walked slowly; and instead of
       immediately directing her steps towards the gate, she seated
       herself on a bench, and, carefully casting her eyes around,
       to convince herself that she was not watched, she presently
       arose, and proceeded quickly to join Maximilian.
       "Good-evening, Valentine," said a well-known voice.
       "Good-evening, Maximilian; I know I have kept you waiting,
       but you saw the cause of my delay."
       "Yes, I recognized Mademoiselle Danglars. I was not aware
       that you were so intimate with her."
       "Who told you we were intimate, Maximilian?"
       "No one, but you appeared to be so. From the manner in which
       you walked and talked together, one would have thought you
       were two school-girls telling your secrets to each other."
       "We were having a confidential conversation," returned
       Valentine; "she was owning to me her repugnance to the
       marriage with M. de Morcerf; and I, on the other hand, was
       confessing to her how wretched it made me to think of
       marrying M. d'Epinay."
       "Dear Valentine!"
       "That will account to you for the unreserved manner which
       you observed between me and Eugenie, as in speaking of the
       man whom I could not love, my thoughts involuntarily
       reverted to him on whom my affections were fixed."
       "Ah, how good you are to say so, Valentine! You possess a
       quality which can never belong to Mademoiselle Danglars. It
       is that indefinable charm which is to a woman what perfume
       is to the flower and flavor to the fruit, for the beauty of
       either is not the only quality we seek."
       "It is your love which makes you look upon everything in
       that light."
       "No, Valentine, I assure you such is not the case. I was
       observing you both when you were walking in the garden, and,
       on my honor, without at all wishing to depreciate the beauty
       of Mademoiselle Danglars, I cannot understand how any man
       can really love her."
       "The fact is, Maximilian, that I was there, and my presence
       had the effect of rendering you unjust in your comparison."
       "No; but tell me -- it is a question of simple curiosity,
       and which was suggested by certain ideas passing in my mind
       relative to Mademoiselle Danglars" --
       "I dare say it is something disparaging which you are going
       to say. It only proves how little indulgence we may expect
       from your sex," interrupted Valentine.
       "You cannot, at least, deny that you are very harsh judges
       of each other."
       "If we are so, it is because we generally judge under the
       influence of excitement. But return to your question."
       "Does Mademoiselle Danglars object to this marriage with M.
       de Morcerf on account of loving another?"
       "I told you I was not on terms of strict intimacy with
       Eugenie."
       "Yes, but girls tell each other secrets without being
       particularly intimate; own, now, that you did question her
       on the subject. Ah, I see you are smiling."
       "If you are already aware of the conversation that passed,
       the wooden partition which interposed between us and you has
       proved but a slight security."
       "Come, what did she say?"
       "She told me that she loved no one," said Valentine; "that
       she disliked the idea of being married; that she would
       infinitely prefer leading an independent and unfettered
       life; and that she almost wished her father might lose his
       fortune, that she might become an artist, like her friend,
       Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly."
       "Ah, you see" --
       "Well, what does that prove?" asked Valentine.
       "Nothing," replied Maximilian.
       "Then why did you smile?"
       "Why, you know very well that you are reflecting on
       yourself, Valentine."
       "Do you want me to go away?"
       "Ah, no, no. But do not let us lose time; you are the
       subject on which I wish to speak."
       "True, we must be quick, for we have scarcely ten minutes
       more to pass together."
       "Ma foi," said Maximilian, in consternation.
       "Yes, you are right; I am but a poor friend to you. What a
       life I cause you to lead, poor Maximilian, you who are
       formed for happiness! I bitterly reproach myself, I assure
       you."
       "Well, what does it signify, Valentine, so long as I am
       satisfied, and feel that even this long and painful suspense
       is amply repaid by five minutes of your society, or two
       words from your lips? And I have also a deep conviction that
       heaven would not have created two hearts, harmonizing as
       ours do, and almost miraculously brought us together, to
       separate us at last."
       "Those are kind and cheering words. You must hope for us
       both, Maximilian; that will make me at least partly happy."
       "But why must you leave me so soon?"
       "I do not know particulars. I can only tell you that Madame
       de Villefort sent to request my presence, as she had a
       communication to make on which a part of my fortune
       depended. Let them take my fortune, I am already too rich;
       and, perhaps, when they have taken it, they will leave me in
       peace and quietness. You would love me as much if I were
       poor, would you not, Maximilian?"
       "Oh, I shall always love you. What should I care for either
       riches or poverty, if my Valentine was near me, and I felt
       certain that no one could deprive me of her? But do you not
       fear that this communication may relate to your marriage?"
       "I do not think that is the case."
       "However it may be, Valentine, you must not be alarmed. I
       assure you that, as long as I live, I shall never love any
       one else!"
       "You think to reassure me when you say that, Maximilian."
       "Pardon me, you are right. I am a brute. But I was going to
       tell you that I met M. de Morcerf the other day."
       "Well?"
       "Monsieur Franz is his friend, you know."
       "What then?"
       "Monsieur de Morcerf has received a letter from Franz,
       announcing his immediate return." Valentine turned pale, and
       leaned her hand against the gate. "Ah heavens, if it were
       that! But no, the communication would not come through
       Madame de Villefort."
       "Why not?"
       "Because -- I scarcely know why -- but it has appeared as if
       Madame de Villefort secretly objected to the marriage,
       although she did not choose openly to oppose it."
       "Is it so? Then I feel as if I could adore Madame de
       Villefort."
       "Do not be in such a hurry to do that," said Valentine, with
       a sad smile.
       "If she objects to your marrying M. d'Epinay, she would be
       all the more likely to listen to any other proposition."
       "No, Maximilian, it is not suitors to which Madame de
       Villefort objects, it is marriage itself."
       "Marriage? If she dislikes that so much, why did she ever
       marry herself?"
       "You do not understand me, Maximilian. About a year ago, I
       talked of retiring to a convent. Madame de Villefort, in
       spite of all the remarks which she considered it her duty to
       make, secretly approved of the proposition, my father
       consented to it at her instigation, and it was only on
       account of my poor grandfather that I finally abandoned the
       project. You can form no idea of the expression of that old
       man's eye when he looks at me, the only person in the world
       whom he loves, and, I had almost said, by whom he is beloved
       in return. When he learned my resolution, I shall never
       forget the reproachful look which he cast on me, and the
       tears of utter despair which chased each other down his
       lifeless cheeks. Ah, Maximilian, I experienced, at that
       moment, such remorse for my intention, that, throwing myself
       at his feet, I exclaimed, -- `Forgive me, pray forgive me,
       my dear grandfather; they may do what they will with me, I
       will never leave you.' When I had ceased speaking, he
       thankfully raised his eyes to heaven, but without uttering a
       word. Ah, Maximilian, I may have much to suffer, but I feel
       as if my grandfather's look at that moment would more than
       compensate for all."
       "Dear Valentine, you are a perfect angel, and I am sure I do
       not know what I -- sabring right and left among the Bedouins
       -- can have done to merit your being revealed to me, unless,
       indeed, heaven took into consideration the fact that the
       victims of my sword were infidels. But tell me what interest
       Madame de Villefort can have in your remaining unmarried?"
       "Did I not tell you just now that I was rich, Maximilian --
       too rich? I possess nearly 50,000 livres in right of my
       mother; my grandfather and my grandmother, the Marquis and
       Marquise de Saint-Meran, will leave me as much, and M.
       Noirtier evidently intends making me his heir. My brother
       Edward, who inherits nothing from his mother, will,
       therefore, be poor in comparison with me. Now, if I had
       taken the veil, all this fortune would have descended to my
       father, and, in reversion, to his son."
       "Ah, how strange it seems that such a young and beautiful
       woman should be so avaricious."
       "It is not for herself that she is so, but for her son, and
       what you regard as a vice becomes almost a virtue when
       looked at in the light of maternal love."
       "But could you not compromise matters, and give up a portion
       of your fortune to her son?"
       "How could I make such a proposition, especially to a woman
       who always professes to be so entirely disinterested?"
       "Valentine, I have always regarded our love in the light of
       something sacred; consequently, I have covered it with the
       veil of respect, and hid it in the innermost recesses of my
       soul. No human being, not even my sister, is aware of its
       existence. Valentine, will you permit me to make a confidant
       of a friend and reveal to him the love I bear you?"
       Valentine started. "A friend, Maximilian; and who is this
       friend? I tremble to give my permission."
       "Listen, Valentine. Have you never experienced for any one
       that sudden and irresistible sympathy which made you feel as
       if the object of it had been your old and familiar friend,
       though, in reality, it was the first time you had ever met?
       Nay, further, have you never endeavored to recall the time,
       place, and circumstances of your former intercourse, and
       failing in this attempt, have almost believed that your
       spirits must have held converse with each other in some
       state of being anterior to the present, and that you are
       only now occupied in a reminiscence of the past?"
       "Yes."
       "Well, that is precisely the feeling which I experienced
       when I first saw that extraordinary man."
       "Extraordinary, did you say?"
       "Yes."
       "You have known him for some time, then?"
       "Scarcely longer than eight or ten days."
       "And do you call a man your friend whom you have only known
       for eight or ten days? Ah, Maximilian, I had hoped you set a
       higher value on the title of friend."
       "Your logic is most powerful, Valentine, but say what you
       will, I can never renounce the sentiment which has
       instinctively taken possession of my mind. I feel as if it
       were ordained that this man should be associated with all
       the good which the future may have in store for me, and
       sometimes it really seems as if his eye was able to see what
       was to come, and his hand endowed with the power of
       directing events according to his own will."
       "He must be a prophet, then," said Valentine, smiling.
       "Indeed," said Maximilian, "I have often been almost tempted
       to attribute to him the gift of prophecy; at all events, he
       has a wonderful power of foretelling any future good."
       "Ah," said Valentine in a mournful tone, "do let me see this
       man, Maximilian; he may tell me whether I shall ever be
       loved sufficiently to make amends for all I have suffered."
       "My poor girl, you know him already."
       "I know him?"
       "Yes; it was he who saved the life of your step-mother and
       her son."
       "The Count of Monte Cristo?"
       "The same."
       "Ah," cried Valentine, "he is too much the friend of Madame
       de Villefort ever to be mine."
       "The friend of Madame de Villefort! It cannot be; surely,
       Valentine, you are mistaken?"
       "No, indeed, I am not; for I assure you, his power over our
       household is almost unlimited. Courted by my step-mother,
       who regards him as the epitome of human wisdom; admired by
       my father, who says he has never before heard such sublime
       ideas so eloquently expressed; idolized by Edward, who,
       notwithstanding his fear of the count's large black eyes,
       runs to meet him the moment he arrives, and opens his hand,
       in which he is sure to find some delightful present, -- M.
       de Monte Cristo appears to exert a mysterious and almost
       uncontrollable influence over all the members of our
       family."
       "If such be the case, my dear Valentine, you must yourself
       have felt, or at all events will soon feel, the effects of
       his presence. He meets Albert de Morcerf in Italy -- it is
       to rescue him from the hands of the banditti; he introduces
       himself to Madame Danglars -- it is that he may give her a
       royal present; your step-mother and her son pass before his
       door -- it is that his Nubian may save them from
       destruction. This man evidently possesses the power of
       influencing events, both as regards men and things. I never
       saw more simple tastes united to greater magnificence. His
       smile is so sweet when he addresses me, that I forget it
       ever can be bitter to others. Ah, Valentine, tell me, if he
       ever looked on you with one of those sweet smiles? if so,
       depend on it, you will be happy."
       "Me?" said the young girl, "he never even glances at me; on
       the contrary, if I accidentally cross his path, he appears
       rather to avoid me. Ah, he is not generous, neither does he
       possess that supernatural penetration which you attribute to
       him, for if he did, he would have perceived that I was
       unhappy; and if he had been generous, seeing me sad and
       solitary, he would have used his influence to my advantage,
       and since, as you say, he resembles the sun, he would have
       warmed my heart with one of his life-giving rays. You say he
       loves you, Maximilian; how do you know that he does? All
       would pay deference to an officer like you, with a fierce
       mustache and a long sabre, but they think they may crush a
       poor weeping girl with impunity."
       "Ah, Valentine, I assure you you are mistaken."
       "If it were otherwise -- if he treated me diplomatically --
       that is to say, like a man who wishes, by some means or
       other, to obtain a footing in the house, so that he may
       ultimately gain the power of dictating to its occupants --
       he would, if it had been but once, have honored me with the
       smile which you extol so loudly; but no, he saw that I was
       unhappy, he understood that I could be of no use to him, and
       therefore paid no attention to me whatever. Who knows but
       that, in order to please Madame de Villefort and my father,
       he may not persecute me by every means in his power? It is
       not just that he should despise me so, without any reason.
       Ah, forgive me," said Valentine, perceiving the effect which
       her words were producing on Maximilian: "I have done wrong,
       for I have given utterance to thoughts concerning that man
       which I did not even know existed in my heart. I do not deny
       the influence of which you speak, or that I have not myself
       experienced it, but with me it has been productive of evil
       rather than good."
       "Well, Valentine," said Morrel with a sigh, "we will not
       discuss the matter further. I will not make a confidant of
       him."
       "Alas," said Valentine, "I see that I have given you pain. I
       can only say how sincerely I ask pardon for having griefed
       you. But, indeed, I am not prejudiced beyond the power of
       conviction. Tell me what this Count of Monte Cristo has done
       for you."
       "I own that your question embarrasses me, Valentine, for I
       cannot say that the count has rendered me any ostensible
       service. Still, as I have already told you I have an
       instinctive affection for him, the source of which I cannot
       explain to you. Has the sun done anything for me? No; he
       warms me with his rays, and it is by his light that I see
       you -- nothing more. Has such and such a perfume done
       anything for me? No; its odor charms one of my senses --
       that is all I can say when I am asked why I praise it. My
       friendship for him is as strange and unaccountable as his
       for me. A secret voice seems to whisper to me that there
       must be something more than chance in this unexpected
       reciprocity of friendship. In his most simple actions, as
       well as in his most secret thoughts, I find a relation to my
       own. You will perhaps smile at me when I tell you that, ever
       since I have known this man, I have involuntarily
       entertained the idea that all the good fortune which his
       befallen me originated from him. However, I have managed to
       live thirty years without this protection, you will say; but
       I will endeavor a little to illustrate my meaning. He
       invited me to dine with him on Saturday, which was a very
       natural thing for him to do. Well, what have I learned
       since? That your mother and M. de Villefort are both coming
       to this dinner. I shall meet them there, and who knows what
       future advantages may result from the interview? This may
       appear to you to be no unusual combination of circumstances;
       nevertheless, I perceive some hidden plot in the arrangement
       -- something, in fact, more than is apparent on a casual
       view of the subject. I believe that this singular man, who
       appears to fathom the motives of every one, has purposely
       arranged for me to meet M. and Madame de Villefort, and
       sometimes, I confess, I have gone so far as to try to read
       in his eyes whether he was in possession of the secret of
       our love."
       "My good friend," said Valentine, "I should take you for a
       visionary, and should tremble for your reason, if I were
       always to hear you talk in a strain similar to this. Is it
       possible that you can see anything more than the merest
       chance in this meeting? Pray reflect a little. My father,
       who never goes out, has several times been on the point of
       refusing this invitation; Madame de Villefort, on the
       contrary, is burning with the desire of seeing this
       extraordinary nabob in his own house, therefore, she has
       with great difficulty prevailed on my father to accompany
       her. No, no; it is as I have said, Maximilian, -- there is
       no one in the world of whom I can ask help but yourself and
       my grandfather, who is little better than a corpse."
       "I see that you are right, logically speaking," said
       Maximilian; "but the gentle voice which usually has such
       power over me fails to convince me to-day."
       "I feel the same as regards yourself." said Valentine; "and
       I own that, if you have no stronger proof to give me" --
       "I have another," replied Maximilian; "but I fear you will
       deem it even more absurd than the first."
       "So much the worse," said Valentine, smiling.
       "It is, nevertheless, conclusive to my mind. My ten years of
       service have also confirmed my ideas on the subject of
       sudden inspirations, for I have several times owed my life
       to a mysterious impulse which directed me to move at once
       either to the right or to the left, in order to escape the
       ball which killed the comrade fighting by my side, while it
       left me unharmed."
       "Dear Maximilian, why not attribute your escape to my
       constant prayers for your safety? When you are away, I no
       longer pray for myself, but for you."
       "Yes, since you have known me," said Morrel, smiling; "but
       that cannot apply to the time previous to our acquaintance,
       Valentine."
       "You are very provoking, and will not give me credit for
       anything; but let me hear this second proof, which you
       yourself own to be absurd."
       "Well, look through this opening, and you will see the
       beautiful new horse which I rode here."
       "Ah, what a beautiful creature!" cried Valentine; "why did
       you not bring him close to the gate, so that I could talk to
       him and pat him?"
       "He is, as you see, a very valuable animal," said
       Maximilian. "You know that my means are limited, and that I
       am what would be designated a man of moderate pretensions.
       Well, I went to a horse dealer's, where I saw this
       magnificent horse, which I have named Medeah. I asked the
       price; they told me it was 4,500 francs. I was, therefore,
       obliged to give it up, as you may imagine, but I own I went
       away with rather a heavy heart, for the horse had looked at
       me affectionately, had rubbed his head against me and, when
       I mounted him, had pranced in the most delightful way
       imaginable, so that I was altogether fascinated with him.
       The same evening some friends of mine visited me, -- M. de
       Chateau-Renaud, M. Debray, and five or six other choice
       spirits, whom you do not know, even by name. They proposed a
       game of bouillotte. I never play, for I am not rich enough
       to afford to lose, or sufficiently poor to desire to gain.
       But I was at my own house, you understand, so there was
       nothing to be done but to send for the cards, which I did.
       "Just as they were sitting down to table, M. de Monte Cristo
       arrived. He took his seat amongst them; they played, and I
       won. I am almost ashamed to say that my gains amounted to
       5,000 francs. We separated at midnight. I could not defer my
       pleasure, so I took a cabriolet and drove to the horse
       dealer's. Feverish and excited, I rang at the door. The
       person who opened it must have taken me for a madman, for I
       rushed at once to the stable. Medeah was standing at the
       rack, eating his hay. I immediately put on the saddle and
       bridle, to which operation he lent himself with the best
       grace possible; then, putting the 4,500 francs into the
       hands of the astonished dealer, I proceeded to fulfil my
       intention of passing the night in riding in the Champs
       Elysees. As I rode by the count's house I perceived a light
       in one of the windows, and fancied I saw the shadow of his
       figure moving behind the curtain. Now, Valentine, I firmly
       believe that he knew of my wish to possess this horse, and
       that he lost expressly to give me the means of procuring
       him."
       "My dear Maximilian, you are really too fanciful; you will
       not love even me long. A man who accustoms himself to live
       in such a world of poetry and imagination must find far too
       little excitement in a common, every-day sort of attachment
       such as ours. But they are calling me. Do you hear?"
       "Ah, Valentine," said Maximilian, "give me but one finger
       through this opening in the grating, one finger, the
       littlest finger of all, that I may have the happiness of
       kissing it."
       "Maximilian, we said we would be to each other as two
       voices, two shadows."
       "As you will, Valentine."
       "Shall you be happy if I do what you wish?"
       "Oh, yes!" Valentine mounted on a bench, and passed not only
       her finger but her whole hand through the opening.
       Maximilian uttered a cry of delight, and, springing
       forwards, seized the hand extended towards him, and
       imprinted on it a fervent and impassioned kiss. The little
       hand was then immediately withdrawn, and the young man saw
       Valentine hurrying towards the house, as though she were
       almost terrified at her own sensations. _
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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