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Count of Monte Cristo, The
Chapter 77 - Haidee
Alexandre Dumas
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       _ Scarcely had the count's horses cleared the angle of the
       boulevard, than Albert, turning towards the count, burst
       into a loud fit of laughter -- much too loud in fact not to
       give the idea of its being rather forced and unnatural.
       "Well," said he, "I will ask you the same question which
       Charles IX. put to Catherine de Medicis, after the massacre
       of Saint Bartholomew, `How have I played my little part?'"
       "To what do you allude?" asked Monte Cristo.
       "To the installation of my rival at M. Danglars'."
       "What rival?"
       "Ma foi, what rival? Why, your protege, M. Andrea
       Cavalcanti!"
       "Ah, no joking, viscount, if you please; I do not patronize
       M. Andrea -- at least, not as concerns M. Danglars."
       "And you would be to blame for not assisting him, if the
       young man really needed your help in that quarter, but,
       happily for me, he can dispense with it."
       "What, do you think he is paying his addresses?"
       "I am certain of it; his languishing looks and modulated
       tones when addressing Mademoiselle Danglars fully proclaim
       his intentions. He aspires to the hand of the proud
       Eugenie."
       "What does that signify, so long as they favor your suit?"
       "But it is not the case, my dear count: on the contrary. I
       am repulsed on all sides."
       "What!"
       "It is so indeed; Mademoiselle Eugenie scarcely answers me,
       and Mademoiselle d'Armilly, her confidant, does not speak to
       me at all."
       "But the father has the greatest regard possible for you,"
       said Monte Cristo.
       "He? Oh, no, he has plunged a thousand daggers into my
       heart, tragedy-weapons, I own, which instead of wounding
       sheathe their points in their own handles, but daggers which
       he nevertheless believed to be real and deadly."
       "Jealousy indicates affection."
       "True; but I am not jealous."
       "He is."
       "Of whom? -- of Debray?"
       "No, of you."
       "Of me? I will engage to say that before a week is past the
       door will be closed against me."
       "You are mistaken, my dear viscount."
       "Prove it to me."
       "Do you wish me to do so?"
       "Yes."
       "Well, I am charged with the commission of endeavoring to
       induce the Comte de Morcerf to make some definite
       arrangement with the baron."
       "By whom are you charged?"
       "By the baron himself."
       "Oh," said Albert with all the cajolery of which he was
       capable. "You surely will not do that, my dear count?"
       "Certainly I shall, Albert, as I have promised to do it."
       "Well," said Albert, with a sigh, "it seems you are
       determined to marry me."
       "I am determined to try and be on good terms with everybody,
       at all events," said Monte Cristo. "But apropos of Debray,
       how is it that I have not seen him lately at the baron's
       house?"
       "There has been a misunderstanding."
       "What, with the baroness?"
       "No, with the baron."
       "Has he perceived anything?"
       "Ah, that is a good joke!"
       "Do you think he suspects?" said Monte Cristo with charming
       artlessness.
       "Where have you come from, my dear count?" said Albert.
       "From Congo, if you will."
       "It must be farther off than even that."
       "But what do I know of your Parisian husbands?"
       "Oh, my dear count, husbands are pretty much the same
       everywhere; an individual husband of any country is a pretty
       fair specimen of the whole race."
       "But then, what can have led to the quarrel between Danglars
       and Debray? They seemed to understand each other so well,"
       said Monte Cristo with renewed energy.
       "Ah, now you are trying to penetrate into the mysteries of
       Isis, in which I am not initiated. When M. Andrea Cavalcanti
       has become one of the family, you can ask him that
       question." The carriage stopped. "Here we are," said Monte
       Cristo; "it is only half-past ten o'clock, come in."
       "Certainly I will."
       "My carriage shall take you back."
       "No, thank you; I gave orders for my coupe to follow me."
       "There it is, then," said Monte Cristo, as he stepped out of
       the carriage. They both went into the house; the
       drawing-room was lighted up -- they went in there. "You will
       make tea for us, Baptistin," said the count. Baptistin left
       the room without waiting to answer, and in two seconds
       reappeared, bringing on a waiter all that his master had
       ordered, ready prepared, and appearing to have sprung from
       the ground, like the repasts which we read of in fairy
       tales. "Really, my dear count," said Morcerf. "what I admire
       in you is, not so much your riches, for perhaps there are
       people even wealthier than yourself, nor is it only your
       wit, for Beaumarchais might have possessed as much, -- but
       it is your manner of being served, without any questions, in
       a moment, in a second; it is as it they guessed what you
       wanted by your manner of ringing, and made a point of
       keeping everything you can possibly desire in constant
       readiness."
       "What you say is perhaps true; they know my habits. For
       instance, you shall see; how do you wish to occupy yourself
       during tea-time?"
       "Ma foi, I should like to smoke."
       Monte Cristo took the gong and struck it once. In about the
       space of a second a private door opened, and Ali appeared,
       bringing two chibouques filled with excellent latakia. "It
       is quite wonderful," said Albert.
       "Oh no, it is as simple as possible," replied Monte Cristo.
       "Ali knows I generally smoke while I am taking my tea or
       coffee; he has heard that I ordered tea, and he also knows
       that I brought you home with me; when I summoned him he
       naturally guessed the reason of my doing so, and as he comes
       from a country where hospitality is especially manifested
       through the medium of smoking, he naturally concludes that
       we shall smoke in company, and therefore brings two
       chibouques instead of one -- and now the mystery is solved."
       "Certainly you give a most commonplace air to your
       explanation, but it is not the less true that you -- Ah, but
       what do I hear?" and Morcerf inclined his head towards the
       door, through which sounds seemed to issue resembling those
       of a guitar.
       "Ma foi, my dear viscount, you are fated to hear music this
       evening; you have only escaped from Mademoiselle Danglars'
       piano, to be attacked by Haidee's guzla."
       "Haidee -- what an adorable name! Are there, then, really
       women who bear the name of Haidee anywhere but in Byron's
       poems?"
       "Certainly there are. Haidee is a very uncommon name in
       France, but is common enough in Albania and Epirus; it is as
       it you said, for example, Chastity, Modesty, Innocence, --
       it is a kind of baptismal name, as you Parisians call it."
       "Oh, that is charming," said Albert, "how I should like to
       hear my countrywomen called Mademoiselle Goodness,
       Mademoiselle Silence, Mademoiselle Christian Charity! Only
       think, then, if Mademoiselle Danglars, instead of being
       called Claire-Marie-Eugenie, had been named Mademoiselle
       Chastity-Modesty-Innocence Danglars; what a fine effect that
       would have produced on the announcement of her marriage!"
       "Hush," said the count, "do not joke in so loud a tone;
       Haidee may hear you, perhaps."
       "And you think she would be angry?"
       "No, certainly not," said the count with a haughty
       expression.
       "She is very amiable, then, is she not?" said Albert.
       "It is not to be called amiability, it is her duty; a slave
       does not dictate to a master."
       "Come; you are joking yourself now. Are there any more
       slaves to be had who bear this beautiful name?"
       "Undoubtedly."
       "Really, count, you do nothing, and have nothing like other
       people. The slave of the Count of Monte Cristo! Why, it is a
       rank of itself in France, and from the way in which you
       lavish money, it is a place that must be worth a hundred
       thousand francs a year."
       "A hundred thousand francs! The poor girl originally
       possessed much more than that; she was born to treasures in
       comparison with which those recorded in the `Thousand and
       One Nights' would seem but poverty."
       "She must be a princess then."
       "You are right; and she is one of the greatest in her
       country too."
       "I thought so. But how did it happen that such a great
       princess became a slave?"
       "How was it that Dionysius the Tyrant became a schoolmaster?
       The fortune of war, my dear viscount, -- the caprice of
       fortune; that is the way in which these things are to be
       accounted for."
       "And is her name a secret?"
       "As regards the generality of mankind it is; but not for
       you, my dear viscount, who are one of my most intimate
       friends, and on whose silence I feel I may rely, if I
       consider it necessary to enjoin it -- may I not do so?"
       "Certainly; on my word of honor."
       "You know the history of the pasha of Yanina, do you not?"
       "Of Ali Tepelini?* Oh, yes; it was in his service that my
       father made his fortune."
       "True, I had forgotten that."
       * Ali Pasha, "The Lion," was born at Tepelini, an Albanian
       village at the foot of the Klissoura Mountains, in 1741. By
       diplomacy and success in arms he became almost supreme ruler
       of Albania, Epirus, and adjacent territory. Having aroused
       the enmity of the Sultan, he was proscribed and put to death
       by treachery in 1822, at the age of eighty. -- Ed.
       "Well, what is Haidee to Ali Tepelini?"
       "Merely his daughter."
       "What? the daughter of Ali Pasha?"
       "Of Ali Pasha and the beautiful Vasiliki."
       "And your slave?"
       "Ma foi, yes."
       "But how did she become so?"
       "Why, simply from the circumstance of my having bought her
       one day, as I was passing through the market at
       Constantinople."
       "Wonderful! Really, my dear count, you seem to throw a sort
       of magic influence over all in which you are concerned; when
       I listen to you, existence no longer seems reality, but a
       waking dream. Now, I am perhaps going to make an imprudent
       and thoughtless request, but" --
       "Say on."
       "But, since you go out with Haidee, and sometimes even take
       her to the opera" --
       "Well?"
       "I think I may venture to ask you this favor."
       "You may venture to ask me anything."
       "Well then, my dear count, present me to your princess."
       "I will do so; but on two conditions."
       "I accept them at once."
       "The first is, that you will never tell any one that I have
       granted the interview."
       "Very well," said Albert, extending his hand; "I swear I
       will not."
       "The second is, that you will not tell her that your father
       ever served hers."
       "I give you my oath that I will not."
       "Enough, viscount; you will remember those two vows, will
       you not? But I know you to be a man of honor." The count
       again struck the gong. Ali reappeared. "Tell Haidee," said
       he, "that I will take coffee with her, and give her to
       understand that I desire permission to present one of my
       friends to her." Ali bowed and left the room. "Now,
       understand me," said the count, "no direct questions, my
       dear Morcerf; if you wish to know anything, tell me, and I
       will ask her."
       "Agreed." Ali reappeared for the third time, and drew back
       the tapestried hanging which concealed the door, to signify
       to his master and Albert that they were at liberty to pass
       on. "Let us go in," said Monte Cristo.
       Albert passed his hand through his hair, and curled his
       mustache, then, having satisfied himself as to his personal
       appearance, followed the count into the room, the latter
       having previously resumed his hat and gloves. Ali was
       stationed as a kind of advanced guard, and the door was kept
       by the three French attendants, commanded by Myrtho. Haidee
       was awaiting her visitors in the first room of her
       apartments, which was the drawing-room. Her large eyes were
       dilated with surprise and expectation, for it was the first
       time that any man, except Monte Cristo, had been accorded an
       entrance into her presence. She was sitting on a sofa placed
       in an angle of the room, with her legs crossed under her in
       the Eastern fashion, and seemed to have made for herself, as
       it were, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks which
       enveloped her. Near her was the instrument on which she had
       just been playing; it was elegantly fashioned, and worthy of
       its mistress. On perceiving Monte Cristo, she arose and
       welcomed him with a smile peculiar to herself, expressive at
       once of the most implicit obedience and also of the deepest
       love. Monte Cristo advanced towards her and extended his
       hand, which she as usual raised to her lips.
       Albert had proceeded no farther than the door, where he
       remained rooted to the spot, being completely fascinated by
       the sight of such surpassing beauty, beheld as it was for
       the first time, and of which an inhabitant of more northern
       climes could form no adequate idea.
       "Whom do you bring?" asked the young girl in Romaic, of
       Monte Cristo; "is it a friend, a brother, a simple
       acquaintance, or an enemy."
       "A friend," said Monte Cristo in the same language.
       "What is his name?"
       "Count Albert; it is the same man whom I rescued from the
       hands of the banditti at Rome."
       "In what language would you like me to converse with him?"
       Monte Cristo turned to Albert. "Do you know modern Greek,"
       asked he.
       "Alas, no," said Albert; "nor even ancient Greek, my dear
       count; never had Homer or Plato a more unworthy scholar than
       myself."
       "Then," said Haidee, proving by her remark that she had
       quite understood Monte Cristo's question and Albert's
       answer, "then I will speak either in French or Italian, if
       my lord so wills it."
       Monte Cristo reflected one instant. "You will speak in
       Italian," said he. Then, turning towards Albert, -- "It is a
       pity you do not understand either ancient or modern Greek,
       both of which Haidee speaks so fluently; the poor child will
       be obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will give you
       but a very false idea of her powers of conversation." The
       count made a sign to Haidee to address his visitor. "Sir,"
       she said to Morcerf, "you are most welcome as the friend of
       my lord and master." This was said in excellent Tuscan, and
       with that soft Roman accent which makes the language of
       Dante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turning to Ali,
       she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he had
       left the room to execute the orders of his young mistress
       she beckoned Albert to approach nearer to her. Monte Cristo
       and Morcerf drew their seats towards a small table, on which
       were arranged music, drawings, and vases of flowers. Ali
       then entered bringing coffee and chibouques; as to M.
       Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted to
       him. Albert refused the pipe which the Nubian offered him.
       "Oh, take it -- take it," said the count; "Haidee is almost
       as civilized as a Parisian; the smell of an Havana is
       disagreeable to her, but the tobacco of the East is a most
       delicious perfume, you know."
       Ali left the room. The cups of coffee were all prepared,
       with the addition of sugar, which had been brought for
       Albert. Monte Cristo and Haidee took the beverage in the
       original Arabian manner, that is to say, without sugar.
       Haidee took the porcelain cup in her little slender fingers
       and conveyed it to her mouth with all the innocent
       artlessness of a child when eating or drinking something
       which it likes. At this moment two women entered, bringing
       salvers filled with ices and sherbet, which they placed on
       two small tables appropriated to that purpose. "My dear
       host, and you, signora," said Albert, in Italian, "excuse my
       apparent stupidity. I am quite bewildered, and it is natural
       that it should be so. Here I am in the heart of Paris; but a
       moment ago I heard the rumbling of the omnibuses and the
       tinkling of the bells of the lemonade-sellers, and now I
       feel as if I were suddenly transported to the East; not such
       as I have seen it, but such as my dreams have painted it.
       Oh, signora, if I could but speak Greek, your conversation,
       added to the fairy-scene which surrounds me, would furnish
       an evening of such delight as it would be impossible for me
       ever to forget."
       "I speak sufficient Italian to enable me to converse with
       you, sir," said Haidee quietly; "and if you like what is
       Eastern, I will do my best to secure the gratification of
       your tastes while you are here."
       "On what subject shall I converse with her?" said Albert, in
       a low tone to Monte Cristo.
       "Just what you please; you may speak of her country and of
       her youthful reminiscences, or if you like it better you can
       talk of Rome, Naples, or Florence."
       "Oh," said Albert, "it is of no use to be in the company of
       a Greek if one converses just in the same style as with a
       Parisian; let me speak to her of the East."
       "Do so then, for of all themes which you could choose that
       will be the most agreeable to her taste." Albert turned
       towards Haidee. "At what age did you leave Greece, signora?"
       asked he.
       "I left it when I was but five years old," replied Haidee.
       "And have you any recollection of your country?"
       "When I shut my eyes and think, I seem to see it all again.
       The mind can see as well as the body. The body forgets
       sometimes -- but the mind never forgets."
       "And how far back into the past do your recollections
       extend?"
       "I could scarcely walk when my mother, who was called
       Vasiliki, which means royal," said the young girl, tossing
       her head proudly, "took me by the hand, and after putting in
       our purse all the money we possessed, we went out, both
       covered with veils, to solicit alms for the prisoners,
       saying, `He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.'
       Then when our purse was full we returned to the palace, and
       without saying a word to my father, we sent it to the
       convent, where it was divided amongst the prisoners."
       "And how old were you at that time?"
       "I was three years old," said Haidee.
       "Then you remember everything that went on about you from
       the time when you were three years old?" said Albert.
       "Everything."
       "Count," said Albert, in a low tone to Monte Cristo, "do
       allow the signora to tell me something of her history. You
       prohibited my mentioning my father's name to her, but
       perhaps she will allude to him of her own accord in the
       course of the recital, and you have no idea how delighted I
       should be to hear our name pronounced by such beautiful
       lips." Monte Cristo turned to Haidee, and with an expression
       of countenance which commanded her to pay the most implicit
       attention to his words, he said in Greek, -- "Tell us the
       fate of your father; but neither the name of the traitor nor
       the treason." Haidee sighed deeply, and a shade of sadness
       clouded her beautiful brow.
       "What are you saying to her?" said Morcerf in an undertone.
       "I again reminded her that you were a friend, and that she
       need not conceal anything from you."
       "Then," said Albert, "this pious pilgrimage in behalf of the
       prisoners was your first remembrance; what is the next?"
       "Oh, then I remember as if it were but yesterday sitting
       under the shade of some sycamore-trees, on the borders of a
       lake, in the waters of which the trembling foliage was
       reflected as in a mirror. Under the oldest and thickest of
       these trees, reclining on cushions, sat my father; my mother
       was at his feet, and I, childlike, amused myself by playing
       with his long white beard which descended to his girdle, or
       with the diamond-hilt of the scimitar attached to his
       girdle. Then from time to time there came to him an Albanian
       who said something to which I paid no attention, but which
       he always answered in the same tone of voice, either `Kill,'
       or `Pardon.'"
       "It is very strange," said Albert, "to hear such words
       proceed from the mouth of any one but an actress on the
       stage, and one needs constantly to be saying to one's self,
       `This is no fiction, it is all reality,' in order to believe
       it. And how does France appear in your eyes, accustomed as
       they have been to gaze on such enchanted scenes?"
       "I think it is a fine country," said Haidee, "but I see
       France as it really is, because I look on it with the eyes
       of a woman; whereas my own country, which I can only judge
       of from the impression produced on my childish mind, always
       seems enveloped in a vague atmosphere, which is luminous or
       otherwise, according as my remembrances of it are sad or
       joyous."
       "So young," said Albert, forgetting at the moment the
       Count's command that he should ask no questions of the slave
       herself, "is it possible that you can have known what
       suffering is except by name?"
       Haidee turned her eyes towards Monte Cristo, who, making at
       the same time some imperceptible sign, murmured, -- "Go on."
       "Nothing is ever so firmly impressed on the mind as the
       memory of our early childhood, and with the exception of the
       two scenes I have just described to you, all my earliest
       reminiscences are fraught with deepest sadness."
       "Speak, speak, signora," said Albert, "I am listening with
       the most intense delight and interest to all you say."
       Haidee answered his remark with a melancholy smile. "You
       wish me, then, to relate the history of my past sorrows?"
       said she.
       "I beg you to do so," replied Albert.
       "Well, I was but four years old when one night I was
       suddenly awakened by my mother. We were in the palace of
       Yanina; she snatched me from the cushions on which I was
       sleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hers filled with
       tears. She took me away without speaking. When I saw her
       weeping I began to cry too. `Hush, child!' said she. At
       other times in spite of maternal endearments or threats, I
       had with a child's caprice been accustomed to indulge my
       feelings of sorrow or anger by crying as much as I felt
       inclined; but on this occasion there was an intonation of
       such extreme terror in my mother's voice when she enjoined
       me to silence, that I ceased crying as soon as her command
       was given. She bore me rapidly away.
       "I saw then that we were descending a large staircase;
       around us were all my mother's servants carrying trunks,
       bags, ornaments, jewels, purses of gold, with which they
       were hurrying away in the greatest distraction.
       "Behind the women came a guard of twenty men armed with long
       guns and pistols, and dressed in the costume which the
       Greeks have assumed since they have again become a nation.
       You may imagine there was something startling and ominous,"
       said Haidee, shaking her head and turning pale at the mere
       remembrance of the scene, "in this long file of slaves and
       women only half-aroused from sleep, or at least so they
       appeared to me, who was myself scarcely awake. Here and
       there on the walls of the staircase, were reflected gigantic
       shadows, which trembled in the flickering light of the
       pine-torches till they seemed to reach to the vaulted roof
       above.
       "`Quick!' said a voice at the end of the gallery. This voice
       made every one bow before it, resembling in its effect the
       wind passing over a field of wheat, by its superior strength
       forcing every ear to yield obeisance. As for me, it made me
       tremble. This voice was that of my father. He came last,
       clothed in his splendid robes and holding in his hand the
       carbine which your emperor presented him. He was leaning on
       the shoulder of his favorite Selim, and he drove us all
       before him, as a shepherd would his straggling flock. My
       father," said Haidee, raising her head, "was that
       illustrious man known in Europe under the name of Ali
       Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and before whom Turkey trembled."
       Albert, without knowing why, started on hearing these words
       pronounced with such a haughty and dignified accent; it
       appeared to him as if there was something supernaturally
       gloomy and terrible in the expression which gleamed from the
       brilliant eyes of Haidee at this moment; she appeared like a
       Pythoness evoking a spectre, as she recalled to his mind the
       remembrance of the fearful death of this man, to the news of
       which all Europe had listened with horror. "Soon," said
       Haidee, "we halted on our march, and found ourselves on the
       borders of a lake. My mother pressed me to her throbbing
       heart, and at the distance of a few paces I saw my father,
       who was glancing anxiously around. Four marble steps led
       down to the water's edge, and below them was a boat floating
       on the tide.
       "From where we stood I could see in the middle of the lake a
       large blank mass; it was the kiosk to which we were going.
       This kiosk appeared to me to be at a considerable distance,
       perhaps on account of the darkness of the night, which
       prevented any object from being more than partially
       discerned. We stepped into the boat. I remember well that
       the oars made no noise whatever in striking the water, and
       when I leaned over to ascertain the cause I saw that they
       were muffled with the sashes of our Palikares.* Besides the
       rowers, the boat contained only the women, my father,
       mother, Selim, and myself. The Palikares had remained on the
       shore of the lake, ready to cover our retreat; they were
       kneeling on the lowest of the marble steps, and in that
       manner intended making a rampart of the three others, in
       case of pursuit. Our bark flew before the wind. `Why does
       the boat go so fast?' asked I of my mother.
       * Greek militiamen in the war for independence. -- Ed.
       "`Silence, child! Hush, we are flying!' I did not
       understand. Why should my father fly? -- he, the
       all-powerful -- he, before whom others were accustomed to
       fly -- he, who had taken for his device, `They hate me; then
       they fear me!' It was, indeed, a flight which my father was
       trying to effect. I have been told since that the garrison
       of the castle of Yanina, fatigued with long service" --
       Here Haidee cast a significant glance at Monte Cristo, whose
       eyes had been riveted on her countenance during the whole
       course of her narrative. The young girl then continued,
       speaking slowly, like a person who is either inventing or
       suppressing some feature of the history which he is
       relating. "You were saying, signora," said Albert, who was
       paying the most implicit attention to the recital, "that the
       garrison of Yanina, fatigued with long service" --
       "Had treated with the Serasker* Koorshid, who had been sent
       by the sultan to gain possession of the person of my father;
       it was then that Ali Tepelini -- after having sent to the
       sultan a French officer in whom he reposed great confidence
       -- resolved to retire to the asylum which he had long before
       prepared for himself, and which he called kataphygion, or
       the refuge."
       "And this officer," asked Albert, "do you remember his name,
       signora?" Monte Cristo exchanged a rapid glance with the
       young girl, which was quite unperceived by Albert. "No,"
       said she, "I do not remember it just at this moment; but if
       it should occur to me presently, I will tell you." Albert
       was on the point of pronouncing his father's name, when
       Monte Cristo gently held up his finger in token of reproach;
       the young man recollected his promise, and was silent.
       * A Turkish pasha in command of the troops of a province. --
       Ed.
       "It was towards this kiosk that we were rowing. A
       ground-floor, ornamented with arabesques, bathing its
       terraces in the water, and another floor, looking on the
       lake, was all which was visible to the eye. But beneath the
       ground-floor, stretching out into the island, was a large
       subterranean cavern, to which my mother, myself, and the
       women were conducted. In this place were together 60,000
       pouches and 200 barrels; the pouches contained 25,000,000 of
       money in gold, and the barrels were filled with 30,000
       pounds of gunpowder.
       "Near the barrels stood Selim, my father's favorite, whom I
       mentioned to you just now. He stood watch day and night with
       a lance provided with a lighted slowmatch in his hand, and
       he had orders to blow up everything -- kiosk, guards, women,
       gold, and Ali Tepelini himself -- at the first signal given
       by my father. I remember well that the slaves, convinced of
       the precarious tenure on which they held their lives, passed
       whole days and nights in praying, crying, and groaning. As
       for me, I can never forget the pale complexion and black
       eyes of the young soldier, and whenever the angel of death
       summons me to another world, I am quite sure I shall
       recognize Selim. I cannot tell you how long we remained in
       this state; at that period I did not even know what time
       meant. Sometimes, but very rarely, my father summoned me and
       my mother to the terrace of the palace; these were hours of
       recreation for me, as I never saw anything in the dismal
       cavern but the gloomy countenances of the slaves and Selim's
       fiery lance. My father was endeavoring to pierce with his
       eager looks the remotest verge of the horizon, examining
       attentively every black speck which appeared on the lake,
       while my mother, reclining by his side, rested her head on
       his shoulder, and I played at his feet, admiring everything
       I saw with that unsophisticated innocence of childhood which
       throws a charm round objects insignificant in themselves,
       but which in its eyes are invested with the greatest
       importance. The heights of Pindus towered above us; the
       castle of Yanina rose white and angular from the blue waters
       of the lake, and the immense masses of black vegetation
       which, viewed in the distance, gave the idea of lichens
       clinging to the rocks, were in reality gigantic fir-trees
       and myrtles.
       "One morning my father sent for us; my mother had been
       crying all the night, and was very wretched; we found the
       pasha calm, but paler than usual. `Take courage, Vasiliki,'
       said he; `to-day arrives the firman of the master, and my
       fate will be decided. If my pardon be complete, we shall
       return triumphant to Yanina; if the news be inauspicious, we
       must fly this night.' -- `But supposing our enemy should not
       allow us to do so?' said my mother. `Oh, make yourself easy
       on that head,' said Ali, smiling; `Selim and his flaming
       lance will settle that matter. They would be glad to see me
       dead, but they would not like themselves to die with me.'
       "My mother only answered by sighs to consolations which she
       knew did not come from my father's heart. She prepared the
       iced water which he was in the habit of constantly drinking,
       -- for since his sojourn at the kiosk he had been parched by
       the most violent fever, -- after which she anointed his
       white beard with perfumed oil, and lighted his chibouque,
       which he sometimes smoked for hours together, quietly
       watching the wreaths of vapor that ascended in spiral clouds
       and gradually melted away in the surrounding atmosphere.
       Presently he made such a sudden movement that I was
       paralyzed with fear. Then, without taking his eyes from the
       object which had first attracted his attention, he asked for
       his telescope. My mother gave it him. and as she did so,
       looked whiter than the marble against which she leaned. I
       saw my father's hand tremble. `A boat! -- two! -- three!'
       murmured my, father; -- `four!' He then arose, seizing his
       arms and priming his pistols. `Vasiliki,' said he to my
       mother, trembling perceptibly, `the instant approaches which
       will decide everything. In the space of half an hour we
       shall know the emperor's answer. Go into the cavern with
       Haidee.' -- `I will not quit you,' said Vasiliki; `if you
       die, my lord, I will die with you.' -- `Go to Selim!' cried
       my father. `Adieu, my lord,' murmured my mother, determining
       quietly to await the approach of death. `Take away
       Vasiliki!' said my father to his Palikares.
       "As for me, I had been forgotten in the general confusion; I
       ran toward Ali Tepelini; he saw me hold out my arms to him,
       and he stooped down and pressed my forehead with his lips.
       Oh, how distinctly I remember that kiss! -- it was the last
       he ever gave me, and I feel as if it were still warm on my
       forehead. On descending, we saw through the lattice-work
       several boats which were gradually becoming more distinct to
       our view. At first they appeared like black specks, and now
       they looked like birds skimming the surface of the waves.
       During this time, in the kiosk at my father's feet, were
       seated twenty Palikares, concealed from view by an angle of
       the wall and watching with eager eyes the arrival of the
       boats. They were armed with their long guns inlaid with
       mother-of-pearl and silver, and cartridges in great numbers
       were lying scattered on the floor. My father looked at his
       watch, and paced up and down with a countenance expressive
       of the greatest anguish. This was the scene which presented
       itself to my view as I quitted my father after that last
       kiss. My mother and I traversed the gloomy passage leading
       to the cavern. Selim was still at his post, and smiled sadly
       on us as we entered. We fetched our cushions from the other
       end of the cavern, and sat down by Selim. In great dangers
       the devoted ones cling to each other; and, young as I was, I
       quite understood that some imminent danger was hanging over
       our heads."
       Albert had often heard -- not from his father, for he never
       spoke on the subject, but from strangers -- the description
       of the last moments of the vizier of Yanina; he had read
       different accounts of his death, but the story seemed to
       acquire fresh meaning from the voice and expression of the
       young girl, and her sympathetic accent and the melancholy
       expression of her countenance at once charmed and horrified
       him. As to Haidee, these terrible reminiscences seemed to
       have overpowered her for a moment, for she ceased speaking,
       her head leaning on her hand like a beautiful flower bowing
       beneath the violence of the storm; and her eyes gazing on
       vacancy indicated that she was mentally contemplating the
       green summit of the Pindus and the blue waters of the lake
       of Yanina, which, like a magic mirror, seemed to reflect the
       sombre picture which she sketched. Monte Cristo looked at
       her with an indescribable expression of interest and pity.
       "Go on," said the count in the Romaic language.
       Haidee looked up abruptly, as if the sonorous tones of Monte
       Cristo's voice had awakened her from a dream; and she
       resumed her narrative. "It was about four o'clock in the
       afternoon, and although the day was brilliant out-of-doors,
       we were enveloped in the gloomy darkness of the cavern. One
       single, solitary light was burning there, and it appeared
       like a star set in a heaven of blackness; it was Selim's
       flaming lance. My mother was a Christian, and she prayed.
       Selim repeated from time to time the sacred words: `God is
       great!' However, my mother had still some hope. As she was
       coming down, she thought she recognized the French officer
       who had been sent to Constantinople, and in whom my father
       placed so much confidence; for he knew that all the soldiers
       of the French emperor were naturally noble and generous. She
       advanced some steps towards the staircase, and listened.
       `They are approaching,' said she; `perhaps they bring us
       peace and liberty!' -- `What do you fear, Vasiliki?' said
       Selim, in a voice at once so gentle and yet so proud. `If
       they do not bring us peace, we will give them war; if they
       do not bring life, we will give them death.' And he renewed
       the flame of his lance with a gesture which made one think
       of Dionysus of Crete.* But I, being only a little child, was
       terrified by this undaunted courage, which appeared to me
       both ferocious and senseless, and I recoiled with horror
       from the idea of the frightful death amidst fire and flames
       which probably awaited us.
       * The god of fruitfulness in Grecian mythology. In Crete he
       was supposed to be slain in winter with the decay of
       vegetation and to revive in the spring. Haidee's learned
       reference is to the behavior of an actor in the Dionysian
       festivals. -- Ed.
       "My mother experienced the same sensations, for I felt her
       tremble. `Mamma, mamma,' said I, `are we really to be
       killed?' And at the sound of my voice the slaves redoubled
       their cries and prayers and lamentations. `My child,' said
       Vasiliki, `may God preserve you from ever wishing for that
       death which to-day you so much dread!' Then, whispering to
       Selim, she asked what were her master's orders. `If he send
       me his poniard, it will signify that the emperor's
       intentions are not favorable, and I am to set fire to the
       powder; if, on the contrary, he send me his ring, it will be
       a sign that the emperor pardons him, and I am to extinguish
       the match and leave the magazine untouched.' -- `My friend,'
       said my mother, `when your master's orders arrive, if it is
       the poniard which he sends, instead of despatching us by
       that horrible death which we both so much dread, you will
       mercifully kill us with this same poniard, will you not?' --
       `Yes, Vasiliki,' replied Selim tranquilly.
       "Suddenly we heard loud cries; and, listening, discerned
       that they were cries of joy. The name of the French officer
       who had been sent to Constantinople resounded on all sides
       amongst our Palikares; it was evident that he brought the
       answer of the emperor, and that it was favorable."
       "And do you not remember the Frenchman's name?" said
       Morcerf, quite ready to aid the memory of the narrator.
       Monte Cristo made a sign to him to be silent.
       "I do not recollect it," said Haidee.
       "The noise increased; steps were heard approaching nearer
       and nearer: they were descending the steps leading to the
       cavern. Selim made ready his lance. Soon a figure appeared
       in the gray twilight at the entrance of the cave, formed by
       the reflection of the few rays of daylight which had found
       their way into this gloomy retreat. `Who are you?' cried
       Selim. `But whoever you may be, I charge you not to advance
       another step.' -- `Long live the emperor!' said the figure.
       `He grants a full pardon to the Vizier Ali, and not only
       gives him his life, but restores to him his fortune and his
       possessions.' My mother uttered a cry of joy, and clasped me
       to her bosom. `Stop,' said Selim, seeing that she was about
       to go out; you see I have not yet received the ring,' --
       `True,' said my mother. And she fell on her knees, at the
       same time holding me up towards heaven, as if she desired,
       while praying to God in my behalf, to raise me actually to
       his presence."
       And for the second time Haidee stopped, overcome by such
       violent emotion that the perspiration stood upon her pale
       brow, and her stifled voice seemed hardly able to find
       utterance, so parched and dry were her throat and lips.
       Monte Cristo poured a little iced water into a glass, and
       presented it to her, saying with a mildness in which was
       also a shade of command, -- "Courage."
       Haidee dried her eyes, and continued: "By this time our
       eyes, habituated to the darkness, had recognized the
       messenger of the pasha, -- it was a friend. Selim had also
       recognized him, but the brave young man only acknowledged
       one duty, which was to obey. `In whose name do you come?'
       said he to him. `I come in the name of our master, Ali
       Tepelini.' -- `If you come from Ali himself,' said Selim,
       `you know what you were charged to remit to me?' -- `Yes,'
       said the messenger, `and I bring you his ring.' At these
       words he raised his hand above his head, to show the token;
       but it was too far off, and there was not light enough to
       enable Selim, where he was standing, to distinguish and
       recognize the object presented to his view. `I do not see
       what you have in your hand,' said Selim. `Approach then,'
       said the messenger, `or I will come nearer to you, if you
       prefer it.' -- `I will agree to neither one nor the other,'
       replied the young soldier; `place the object which I desire
       to see in the ray of light which shines there, and retire
       while I examine it.' -- `Be it so,' said the envoy; and he
       retired, after having first deposited the token agreed on in
       the place pointed out to him by Selim.
       "Oh, how our hearts palpitated; for it did, indeed, seem to
       be a ring which was placed there. But was it my father's
       ring? that was the question. Selim, still holding in his
       hand the lighted match, walked towards the opening in the
       cavern, and, aided by the faint light which streamed in
       through the mouth of the cave, picked up the token.
       "`It is well,' said he, kissing it; `it is my master's
       ring!' And throwing the match on the ground, he trampled on
       it and extinguished it. The messenger uttered a cry of joy
       and clapped his hands. At this signal four soldiers of the
       Serasker Koorshid suddenly appeared, and Selim fell, pierced
       by five blows. Each man had stabbed him separately, and,
       intoxicated by their crime, though still pale with fear,
       they sought all over the cavern to discover if there was any
       fear of fire, after which they amused themselves by rolling
       on the bags of gold. At this moment my mother seized me in
       her arms, and hurrying noiselessly along numerous turnings
       and windings known only to ourselves, she arrived at a
       private staircase of the kiosk, where was a scene of
       frightful tumult and confusion. The lower rooms were
       entirely filled with Koorshid's troops; that is to say, with
       our enemies. Just as my mother was on the point of pushing
       open a small door, we heard the voice of the pasha sounding
       in a loud and threatening tone. My mother applied her eye to
       the crack between the boards; I luckily found a small
       opening which afforded me a view of the apartment and what
       was passing within. `What do you want?' said my father to
       some people who were holding a paper inscribed with
       characters of gold. `What we want,' replied one, `is to
       communicate to you the will of his highness. Do you see this
       firman?' -- `I do,' said my father. `Well, read it; he
       demands your head.'
       "My father answered with a loud laugh, which was more
       frightful than even threats would have been, and he had not
       ceased when two reports of a pistol were heard; he had fired
       them himself, and had killed two men. The Palikares, who
       were prostrated at my father's feet, now sprang up and
       fired, and the room was filled with fire and smoke. At the
       same instant the firing began on the other side, and the
       balls penetrated the boards all round us. Oh, how noble did
       the grand vizier my father look at that moment, in the midst
       of the flying bullets, his scimitar in his hand, and his
       face blackened with the powder of his enemies! and how he
       terrified them, even then, and made them fly before him!
       `Selim, Selim!' cried he, `guardian of the fire, do your
       duty!' -- `Selim is dead,' replied a voice which seemed to
       come from the depths of the earth, `and you are lost, Ali!'
       At the same moment an explosion was heard, and the flooring
       of the room in which my father was sitting was suddenly torn
       up and shivered to atoms -- the troops were firing from
       underneath. Three or four Palikares fell with their bodies
       literally ploughed with wounds.
       "My father howled aloud, plunged his fingers into the holes
       which the balls had made, and tore up one of the planks
       entire. But immediately through this opening twenty more
       shots were fired, and the flame, rushing up like fire from
       the crater of a volcano, soon reached the tapestry, which it
       quickly devoured. In the midst of all this frightful tumult
       and these terrific cries, two reports, fearfully distinct,
       followed by two shrieks more heartrending than all, froze me
       with terror. These two shots had mortally wounded my father,
       and it was he who had given utterance to these frightful
       cries. However, he remained standing, clinging to a window.
       My mother tried to force the door, that she might go and die
       with him, but it was fastened on the inside. All around him
       were lying the Palikares, writhing in convulsive agonies,
       while two or three who were only slightly wounded were
       trying to escape by springing from the windows. At this
       crisis the whole flooring suddenly gave way. my father fell
       on one knee, and at the same moment twenty hands were thrust
       forth, armed with sabres, pistols, and poniards -- twenty
       blows were instantaneously directed against one man, and my
       father disappeared in a whirlwind of fire and smoke kindled
       by these demons, and which seemed like hell itself opening
       beneath his feet. I felt myself fall to the ground, my
       mother had fainted."
       Haidee's arms fell by her side, and she uttered a deep
       groan, at the same time looking towards the count as if to
       ask if he were satisfied with her obedience to his commands.
       Monte Cristo arose and approached her, took her hand, and
       said to her in Romaic, "Calm yourself, my dear child, and
       take courage in remembering that there is a God who will
       punish traitors."
       "It is a frightful story, count," said Albert, terrified at
       the paleness of Haidee's countenance, "and I reproach myself
       now for having been so cruel and thoughtless in my request."
       "Oh, it is nothing," said Monte Cristo. Then, patting the
       young girl on the head, he continued, "Haidee is very
       courageous, and she sometimes even finds consolation in the
       recital of her misfortunes."
       "Because, my lord." said Haidee eagerly, "my miseries recall
       to me the remembrance of your goodness."
       Albert looked at her with curiosity, for she had not yet
       related what he most desired to know, -- how she had become
       the slave of the count. Haidee saw at a glance the same
       expression pervading the countenances of her two auditors;
       she exclaimed, `When my mother recovered her senses we were
       before the serasker. `Kill,' said she, `but spare the honor
       of the widow of Ali.' -- `It is not to me to whom you must
       address yourself,' said Koorshid.
       "`To whom, then?' -- `To your new master.'
       "`Who and where is he?' -- `He is here.'
       "And Koorshid pointed out one who had more than any
       contributed to the death of my father," said Haidee, in a
       tone of chastened anger. "Then," said Albert, "you became
       the property of this man?"
       "No," replied Haidee, "he did not dare to keep us, so we
       were sold to some slave-merchants who were going to
       Constantinople. We traversed Greece, and arrived half dead
       at the imperial gates. They were surrounded by a crowd of
       people, who opened a way for us to pass, when suddenly my
       mother, having looked closely at an object which was
       attracting their attention, uttered a piercing cry and fell
       to the ground, pointing as she did so to a head which was
       placed over the gates, and beneath which were inscribed
       these words:
       "`This is the head of Ali Tepelini Pasha of Yanina.' I cried
       bitterly, and tried to raise my mother from the earth, but
       she was dead! I was taken to the slave-market, and was
       purchased by a rich Armenian. He caused me to be instructed,
       gave me masters, and when I was thirteen years of age he
       sold me to the Sultan Mahmood."
       "Of whom I bought her," said Monte Cristo, "as I told you,
       Albert, with the emerald which formed a match to the one I
       had made into a box for the purpose of holding my hashish
       pills."
       "Oh, you are good, you are great, my lord!" said Haidee,
       kissing the count's hand, "and I am very fortunate in
       belonging to such a master!" Albert remained quite
       bewildered with all that he had seen and heard. "Come,
       finish your cup of coffee," said Monte Cristo; "the history
       is ended." _
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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