World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 46 Prison Archives
On the second day after the elder visited the inn at the Pont du Gard, a young man about 31 years old came to the mayor of Marseilles.That gentleman was wearing a light blue tuxedo, purple calico trousers and a snow-white vest. From his accent and accent, he looked like an Englishman.

"Sir," he said to the mayor, "I am a senior employee of the Thomson & French firm in Rome. Our firm has established business relations with Morrel and Sons for 10 years, and the firm has invested about 10 francs successively. Recently we heard that the company is on the verge of bankruptcy, and our firm is not without anxiety, so I came here from Rome to ask you about the company's situation."

"Sir," replied the mayor, "I do know that Mr. Morrel seems to have had a bad year in the last four or five years. I am also a creditor of tens of thousands of francs, but I have no right to inform you. If you want me to talk about my impression of M. So far he has paid every bill exactly as prescribed. That's all I can tell you, sir. If you want to know more, you may wish to see Mr. Powell, Superintendent of Prisons, at Nor He has an office at 15 Rue Hayer. I think he has invested 20 francs in the Morrel company. If there is any doubt, his capital is much larger than mine, and he should know the situation better than me."

The Englishman, who seemed to appreciate this extremely tactful remark, bowed his farewell to the mayor, and turned to the Rue Noailles with a stride peculiar to Britons.Mr. Powell is in his office.The Englishman was surprised when he entered, as if to say that this was not the first time they had met.But Mr. Poviller was in trouble, and his mind was so overwhelmed with sorrow that neither his memory nor his imagination had time to look back.The English guest repeated the same question he had just asked the mayor of Marseilles with the indifference of an Englishman.

"Oh, sir," exclaimed M. de Powell, "I am sorry to say that your fears are well-founded, and what you see now is not a desperate man? I have invested 20 francs in the Morrel Company. , the 20 francs are my daughter's dowry, and she will get married in two weeks. The money should be repaid when due, 10 is due on the 15th of this month, and the remaining 10 is due on the 15th of the next month I have informed Mr. Morrel that I hope the payment will be made on time. He came half an hour ago to tell me, sir, that if his ship 'King of Egypt' does not come back by the 15th of this month, he will be powerless. pay."

"It seems," said the Englishman, "that it looks a lot like a delay."

"It's better to say it's a dead debt, sir," cried Mr. Poviller in despair.

The Englishman seemed to think for a moment, and then said: "So, sir, you are very concerned about this futures?"

"Honestly, I don't think the money will ever be recovered."

"Well, I will buy your funds."

"you?"

"Yes, myself."

"But, the discount must be huge, right?"

"No, just pay 20 francs. Our firm," the Englishman continued with a smile, "never does such a thing."

"How to pay?"

"Pay in cash." After the Englishman finished speaking, he took out a large wad of banknotes from his pocket, which seemed to be twice as much as Mr. Powell was worried about losing.

A gleam of joy flashed across Mr. Powell's face, but he tried to restrain himself and said: "Sir, I will say in advance that, from all estimates, you may not even get six per cent interest on this sum. arrive."

"It's none of my business," replied the Englishman, "that's Thomson & French, and I'm just being ordered. They may have deliberately hastened the closure of a rival firm, and all I know, sir, is that I can Pay you this amount, and please transfer the account here. It's just that I want to get a commission."

"Need to say, sir? Your request is very reasonable," cried Mr. Powell. "The usual commission is [-] percent. Do you mean [-] percent? [-] percent? Five percent? Or higher? You don't hesitate." Say."

"Sir," said the Englishman, laughing, "I, like our firm, would never do such a thing. No, I want a commission of a different kind."

"Speak, sir, and I will listen with all my ears."

"You're the superintendent of prisons, aren't you?"

"Has been in office for more than 14 years."

"All the files of prison and prison are in your hands?"

"of course."

"Does the file include records of the prisoner's detention?"

"There is a person who sets up a dossier."

"Well, sir, I was taught at Rome by a wretched elder who suddenly disappeared. I heard he was imprisoned in the Château d'If, and I would like to know the circumstances of his death."

"What's his name?"

"Elder Faria."

"Ah, I quite remember," exclaimed M. Powell. "He's a madman."

"It is said to be."

"Well, he is indeed crazy."

"Maybe. What are the symptoms of his madness?"

"He's convinced he's found a great treasure, and he's willing to give a huge sum of money to the government if he can be released."

"It's really pitiful, is he really dead?"

"Yes, sir. Been dead for about five or six months, in February of this year."

"You have a good memory, sir, and you remember the time so clearly."

"I only remember it because of a rare and strange thing that happened after the poor fellow's death."

"May I know what kind of strange thing this is?" the British asked curiously.There was such an expression on his indifferent face, and anyone who was careful saw it would be amazed.

"Oh, my God, of course you can, sir. Forty or fifty feet from the Elder's dungeon there is a Napoleonic partisan, a very dangerous die-hard who was responsible for the restoration of the usurpers in 1815. molecular."

"Really?" said the Englishman.

"No," replied M. Poviller, "in 1816 or 1817 I had the opportunity to see this man once, and went down to his dungeon in the basement, and we took a whole company of soldiers with me. I was very impressed and I will never forget his face."

The British smiled secretly, and then said: "Sir, you just said that the two dark cells..."

"About fifty feet apart, yet it seems that this Edmond Dantès..."

"The name of this dangerous person is..."

"Edmond Dantès. Yes, sir, it seems that this Edmond Dantès got some tools, or made some tools himself, because the prison discovered a secret passage through which the two prisoners messed with each other. run away."

"Dig this secret passage is undoubtedly to escape from prison?"

"Yes, that's right. But those two prisoners were very unlucky. Elder Faria fell into a catalepsy and died."

"I see, this completely interrupted the escape plan."

"It is true of the dead prisoner," replied M. Pouvier, "but not of the living one. On the contrary, this Dantès felt that the opportunity had come and he could escape as soon as possible. He He probably thought that the prisoner in the Château d'If was dead and would find an ordinary cemetery to bury him. So he carried the dead man to his cell, pretended to be dead and hid himself in the sewn sack, waiting for the time to go bury."

"Such a method is purely risky, and it seems that it takes a little courage to dare." The Englishman said.

"Well, I have told you, sir, that this man is very dangerous, but it is all right, that he has done it for himself, so that the government will not have to worry about him any more."

"how?"

"Why, don't you understand?"

"not understand."

"There is no cemetery in the Château d'If. When a prisoner dies, a 36-jin iron ball is tied to his foot, and then he is thrown into the sea."

"Oh?" the Englishman replied, as if he didn't understand.

"Ah, first tied a 36-jin iron ball to his foot, and then threw him into the sea."

"Really?" cried the Englishman.

"That's true, sir," continued the Superintendent, "you can imagine the fugitive's dismay when he found himself falling from the top of the cliff. I should like to see what he looked like then. "

"I'm afraid it's not easy."

"That's what I said," Mr. Powell knew that his 20 francs would definitely be recovered, so he was in a very good mood, and he continued, "It doesn't matter if I see it or not. In fact, I can imagine it." , he laughed out loud.

"I can imagine that too," said the Englishman, and he laughed too, but his smile was British, and it came through his teeth. "So," he continued, first regaining his composure, "the fugitive is drowned."

"Not bad."

"In this way, the commander of the Château d'If has dispatched the murderer and the madman at once."

"Yes, that's right."

"However, is this incident recorded?" asked the Englishman.

"Yes, yes, there is a death certificate. You know, if Dantès has any relatives, they may come to ask him how he died."

"So now they want to inherit his inheritance, they can feel at ease, because he is dead, there is nothing wrong with that, right?"

"Oh, my God, yes. Proofs can be given to them anytime they want."

"I hope so," said the Englishman, "but let's get down to business and talk about the archives."

"Really, we've dragged ourselves too far in telling this story, please forgive me."

"What's there to forgive? For the storytelling? No, I find the story very novel."

"Very novel indeed. Then, sir, do you wish to read all the data concerning the poor elder? He is a very refined man."

"Yes, I'd love to know about it."

"Please come to my office and I'll show it to you."

So the two walked into Mr. Powell's office.Everything in the office is orderly, each file is numbered, and each file is placed in a grid.The director asked the Englishman to sit down on a chair, put the books and files about the Château d'If in front of him, and let him browse casually, while he sat down in a corner and read the newspapers.

The British quickly found the file of Elder Faria, but it seemed that the story Mr. Poweller told him just now had aroused his strong interest, because after he checked the first part of the material, he continued to scroll down and kept reading. Turn to Edmond Dantès material.He found that there was no lack of any material in the file, the informant letter, the interrogation record, Morrel's petition, and M. Villefort's handling opinions were all there.He quietly folded the informant letter, put it in his pocket, and then read the interrogation record, but found that Noirquier's name was not mentioned in it.He read the petition again, and it was dated April 1815, 4.The petition was exaggerated by Mr. Morrel at the time, acting on the advice of the Deputy Prosecutor, out of good intentions.It was the time when Napoleon was in power, so how Dantès served the imperial cause, coupled with the proof of Villefort, became a conclusive fact.So the Englishman figured out all the ins and outs.The petition was supposed to be sent to Napoleon, but it was withheld by Villefort, and when the dynasty was restored for the second time, it became a terrible weapon in the hands of Villefort, who had become a prosecutor.Therefore, when he went on the search and found another note enclosed in square brackets written in the name of Dantès in the file, he didn't think it was surprising.That note reads:

Edmond Dantès, a fanatical member of the Napoleonic party, took an active part in the counterattack on Elba Island.

He should be held in solitary confinement and strictly guarded.

Below these lines, another person's handwriting read: "In view of the above statement, the case cannot be reversed." He compared the handwriting in square brackets with the handwriting stated at the bottom of Morrel's petition, and he was sure of two places. The handwriting is exactly the same, that is to say, they are all written by Villefort.As for the last comment, the Englishman understands that it must have been added by some inspector, who may have suddenly become interested in Dantès' case, but in view of the above-mentioned circumstances, even if he was interested, he would not I had no choice but to let it go.

We have already said that the director of the prison was very knowledgeable. In order not to disturb the students of Elder Faria to check the files, he hid himself far away and just buried himself in his "White Banner". Written under the awning of the Reserve Hotel, and stamped with the postmark of the Marseille Post Office at 2:27 p.m. on February 20, he folded it and stuffed it into his pocket.But it goes without saying that even if he saw it, he would not care about the note, and he would never forget the [-] francs, so no matter how inappropriate the British's actions were, he would not come out to stop them.

"Thank you," the British slammed the file shut, and said, "I have found everything I want to check. Now it's time for me to fulfill my promise. Please issue a futures transfer slip. It's very simple. You sign and receive the payment." The amount is enough, and I can pay you the money." He gave up the seat in front of the desk to Mr. Poweller, who sat down without making any excuses, and immediately issued the required transfer slip, while the British Then count the bills on the edge of the filing rack.

(End of this chapter)