THE COUNT of Monte Cristo entered the adjoining room, which Baptistin had designated as the drawing-room, and found there a young man, of graceful demeanor and elegant appearance, who had arrived in a cab about half an hour previously. Baptistin had not found any difficulty in recognizing the person who presented himself at the door for admittance. He was certainly the tall young man with light hair, red heard, black eyes, and brilliant complexion, whom his master had so particularly described to him. When the count entered the room the young man was carelessly stretched on a sofa, tapping his boot with the gold-headed cane which he held in his hand. On perceiving the count he rose quickly. "The Count of Monte Cristo, I believe?" said he.

"Yes, sir, and I think I have the honor of addressing Count Andrea Cavalcanti?"

"Count Andrea Cavalcanti," repeated the young man, accompanying his words with a bow.

"You are charged with a letter of introduction addressed to me, are you not?" said the count.

"I did not mention that, because the signature seemed to me so strange."

"The letter signed 'Sinbad the Sailor,' is it not?"

"Exactly so. Now, as I have never known any Sinbad, with the exception of the one celebrated in the Thousand and One Nights----"

"Well, it is one of his descendants, and a great friend of mine; he is a very rich Englishman, eccentric almost to insanity, and his real name is Lord Wilmore."

"Ah, indeed? Then that explains everything that is extraordinary," said Andrea. "He is, then, the same Englishman whom I met--at--ah--yes, indeed. Well, monsieur, I am at your service."

"If what you say be true," replied the count, smiling, "perhaps you will be kind enough to give me some account of yourself and your family?"

"Certainly, I will do so," said the young man, with a quickness which gave proof of his ready invention. "I am (as you have said) the Count Andrea Cavalcanti, son of Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, a descendant of the Cavalcanti whose names are inscribed in the golden book at Florence. Our family, although still rich (for my father's income amounts to half a million), has experienced many misfortunes, and I myself was, at the age of five years, taken away by the treachery of my tutor, so that for fifteen years I have not seen the author of my existence. Since I have arrived at years of discretion and become my own master, I have been constantly seeking him, but all in vain. At length I received this letter from your friend, which states that my father is in Paris, and authorizes me to address myself to you for information respecting him."

"Really, all you have related to me is exceedingly interesting," said Monte Cristo, observing the young man with a gloomy satisfaction; "and you have done well to conform in everything to the wishes of my friend Sinbad; for your father is indeed here, and is seeking you."

The count from the moment of first entering the drawing-room, had not once lost sight of the expression of the young man's countenance; he had admired the assurance of his look and the firmness of his voice; but at these words, so natural in themselves, "Your father is indeed here, and is seeking you," young Andrea started, and exclaimed, "My father? Is my father here?"

"Most undoubtedly," replied Monte Cristo; "your father, Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti." The expression of terror which, for the moment, had overspread the features of the young man, had now disappeared. "Ah, yes, that is the name, certainly. Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti. And you really mean to say; monsieur, that my dear father is here?"

"Yes, sir; and I can even add that I have only just left his company. The history which he related to me of his lost son touched me to the quick; indeed, his griefs, hopes, and fears on that subject might furnish material for a most touching and pathetic poem. At length, he one day received a letter, stating that the abductors of his son now offered to restore him, or at least to give notice where he might be found, on condition of receiving a large sum of money, by way of ransom. Your father did not hesitate an instant, and the sum was sent to the frontier of Piedmont, with a passport signed for Italy. You were in the south of France, I think?"

"Yes," replied Andrea, with an embarrassed air, "I was in the south of France."

"A carriage was to await you at Nice?"

"Precisely so; and it conveyed me from Nice to Genoa, from Genoa to Turin, from Turin to Chambéry, from Chambéry to Pont-de-Beauvoisin, and from Pont-de-Beauvoisin to Paris."

"Indeed? Then your father ought to have met with you on the road, for it is exactly the same route which he himself took, and that is how we have been able to trace your journey to this place."

"But," said Andrea, "if my father had met me, I doubt if he would have recognized me; I must be somewhat altered since he last saw me."

"Oh, the voice of nature," said Monte Cristo.

"True," interrupted the young man, "I had not looked upon it in that light."

"Now," replied Monte Cristo "there is only one source of uneasiness left in your father's mind, which is this--he is anxious to know how you have been employed during your long absence from him, how you have been treated by your persecutors, and if they have conducted themselves towards you with all the deference due to your rank. Finally, he is anxious to see if you have been fortunate enough to escape the bad moral influence to which you have been exposed, and which is infinitely more to be dreaded than any physical suffering; he wishes to discover if the fine abilities with which nature had endowed you have been weakened by want of culture; and, in short, whether you consider yourself capable of resuming and retaining in the world the high position to which your rank entitles you."

"Sir!" exclaimed the young man, quite astounded, "I hope no false report"--

"As for myself, I first heard you spoken of by my friend Wilmore, the philanthropist. I believe he found you in some unpleasant position, but do not know of what nature, for I did not ask, not being inquisitive. Your misfortunes engaged his sympathies, so you see you must have been interesting. He told me that he was anxious to restore you to the position which you had lost, and that he would seek your father until he found him. He did seek, and has found him, apparently, since he is here now; and, finally, my friend apprised me of your coming, and gave me a few other instructions relative to your future fortune. I am quite aware that my friend Wilmore is peculiar, but he is sincere, and as rich as a gold-mine, consequently, he may indulge his eccentricities without any fear of their ruining him, and I have promised to adhere to his instructions. Now, sir, pray do not be offended at the question I am about to put to you, as it comes in the way of my duty as your patron. I would wish to know if the misfortunes which have happened to you--misfortunes entirely beyond your control, and which in no degree diminish my regard for you--I would wish to know if they have not, in some measure, contributed to render you a stranger to the world in which your fortune and your name entitle you to make a conspicuous figure?"

"Sir," returned the young man, with a reassurance of manner, "make your mind easy on this score. Those who took me from my father, and who always intended, sooner or later, to sell me again to my original proprietor, as they have now done, calculated that, in order to make the most of their bargain, it would be politic to leave me in possession of all my personal and hereditary worth, and even to increase the value, if possible. I have, therefore, received a very good education, and have been treated by these kidnappers very much as the slaves were treated in Asia Minor, whose masters made them grammarians, doctors, and philosophers, in order that they might fetch a higher price in the Roman market." Monte Cristo smiled with satisfaction; it appeared as if he had not expected so much from M. Andrea Cavalcanti. "Besides," continued the young man, "if there did appear some defect in education, or offence against the established forms of etiquette, I suppose it would be excused, in consideration of the misfortunes which accompanied my birth, and followed me through my youth."

"Well," said Monte Cristo in an indifferent tone, "you will do as you please, count, for you are the master of your own actions, and are the person most concerned in the matter, but if I were you, I would not divulge a word of these adventures. Your history is quite a romance, and the world, which delights in romances in yellow covers, strangely mistrusts those which are bound in living parchment, even though they be gilded like yourself. This is the kind of difficulty which I wished to represent to you, my dear count. You would hardly have recited your touching history before it would go forth to the world, and be deemed unlikely and unnatural. You would be no longer a lost child found, but you would be looked upon as an upstart, who had sprung up like a mushroom in the night. You might excite a little curiosity, but it is not every one who likes to be made the centre of observation and the subject of unpleasant remark."

"I agree with you, monsieur," said the young man, turning pale, and, in spite of himself, trembling beneath the scrutinizing look of his companion, "such consequences would be extremely unpleasant."

"Nevertheless, you must not exaggerate the evil," said Monte Cristo, "for by endeavoring to avoid one fault you will fall into another. You must resolve upon one simple and single line of conduct, and for a man of your intelligence, this plan is as easy as it is necessary; you must form honorable friendships, and by that means counteract the prejudice which may attach to the obscurity of your former life." Andrea visibly changed countenance. "I would offer myself as your surety and friendly adviser," said Monte Cristo, "did I not possess a moral distrust of my best friends, and a sort of inclination to lead others to doubt them too; therefore, in departing from this rule, I should (as the actors say) be playing a part quite out of my line, and should, therefore, run the risk of being hissed, which would be an act of folly."

"However, your excellency," said Andrea, "in consideration of Lord Wilmore, by whom I was recommended to you--"

"Yes, certainly," interrupted Monte Cristo; "but Lord Wilmore did not omit to inform me, my dear M. Andrea, that the season of your youth was rather a stormy one. Ah," said the count, watching Andrea's countenance, "I do not demand any confession from you; it is precisely to avoid that necessity that your father was sent for from Lucca. You shall soon see him. He is a little stiff and pompous in his manner, and he is disfigured by his uniform; but when it becomes known that he has been for eighteen years in the Austrian service, all that will be pardoned. We are not generally very severe with the Austrians. In short, you will find your father a very presentable person, I assure you."

"Ah, sir, you have given me confidence; it is so long since we were separated, that I have not the least remembrance of him, and, besides, you know that in the eyes of the world a large fortune covers all defects."

"He is a millionaire--his income is 500,000 francs."

"Then," said the young man, with anxiety, "I shall be sure to be placed in an agreeable position."

"One of the most agreeable possible, my dear sir; he will allow you an income of 50,000 livres per annum during the whole time of your stay in Paris."

"Then in that case I shall always choose to remain there."

"You cannot control circumstances, my dear sir; 'man proposes, and God disposes.'" Andrea sighed. "But," said he, "so long as I do remain in Paris, and nothing forces me to quit it, do you mean to tell me that I may rely on receiving the sum you just now mentioned to me?"

"You may."

"Shall I receive it from my father?" asked Andrea, with some uneasiness.

"Yes, you will receive it from your father personally, but Lord Wilmore will be the security for the money. He has, at the request of your father, opened an account of 6,000 francs a month at M. Danglars', which is one of the safest banks in Paris."

"And does my father mean to remain long in Paris?" asked Andrea.

"Only a few days," replied Monte Cristo. "His service does not allow him to absent himself more than two or three weeks together."

"Ah, my dear father!" exclaimed Andrea, evidently charmed with the idea of his speedy departure.

"Therefore," said Monte Cristo feigning to mistake his meaning--"therefore I will not, for another instant, retard the pleasure of your meeting. Are you prepared to embrace your worthy father?"

"I hope you do not doubt it."

"Go, then, into the drawing-room, my young friend, where you will find your father awaiting you." Andrea made a low bow to the count, and entered the adjoining room. Monte Cristo watched him till he disappeared, and then touched a spring in a panel made to look like a picture, which, in sliding partly from the frame, discovered to view a small opening, so cleverly contrived that it revealed all that was passing in the drawing-room now occupied by Cavalcanti and Andrea. The young man closed the door behind him, and advanced towards the major, who had risen when he heard steps approaching him. "Ah, my dear father!" said Andrea in a loud voice, in order that the count might hear him in the next room, "is it really you?"

"How do you do, my dear son?" said the major gravely.

"After so many years of painful separation," said Andrea, in the same tone of voice, and glancing towards the door, "what a happiness it is to meet again!"

"Indeed it is, after so long a separation."

"Will you not embrace me, sir?" said Andrea.

"If you wish it, my son," said the major; and the two men embraced each other after the fashion of actors on the stage; that is to say, each rested his head on the other's shoulder.

"Then we are once more reunited?" said Andrea.

"Once more," replied the major.

"Never more to be separated?"

"Why, as to that--I think, my dear son, you must be by this time so accustomed to France as to look upon it almost as a second country."

"The fact is," said the young man, "that I should be exceedingly grieved to leave it."

"As for me, you must know I cannot possibly live out of Lucca; therefore I shall return to Italy as soon as I can."

"But before you leave France, my dear father, I hope you will put me in possession of the documents which will be necessary to prove my descent."

"Certainly; I am come expressly on that account; it has cost me much trouble to find you, but I had resolved on giving them into your hands, and if I had to recommence my search, it would occupy all the few remaining years of my life."

"Where are these papers, then?"

"Here they are."

Andrea seized the certificate of his father's marriage and his own baptismal register, and after having opened them with all the eagerness which might be expected under the circumstances, he read them with a facility which proved that he was accustomed to similar documents, and with an expression which plainly denoted an unusual interest in the contents. When he had perused the documents, an indefinable expression of pleasure lighted up his countenance, and looking at the major with a most peculiar smile, he said, in very excellent Tuscan,--"Then there is no longer any such thing, in Italy as being condemned to the galleys?" The major drew himself up to his full height.

"Why?--what do you mean by that question?"

"I mean that if there were, it would be impossible to draw up with impunity two such deeds as these. In France, my dear sir, half such a piece of effrontery as that would cause you to be quickly despatched to Toulon for five years, for change of air."

"Will you be good enough to explain your meaning?" said the major, endeavoring as much as possible to assume an air of the greatest majesty.

"My dear M. Cavalcanti," said Andrea, taking the major by the arm in a confidential manner, "how much are you paid for being my father?" The major was about to speak, when Andrea continued, in a low voice.

"Nonsense, I am going to set you an example of confidence, they give me 50,000 francs a year to be your son; consequently, you can understand that it is not at all likely I shall ever deny my parent." The major looked anxiously around him. "Make yourself easy, we are quite alone," said Andrea; "besides, we are conversing in Italian."

"Well, then," replied the major, "they paid me 50,000 francs down."

"Monsieur Cavalcanti," said Andrea, "do you believe in fairy tales?"

"I used not to do so, but I really feel now almost obliged to have faith in them."

"You have, then, been induced to alter your opinion; you have had some proofs of their truth?" The major drew from his pocket a handful of gold. "Most palpable proofs," said he, "as you may perceive."

"You think, then, that I may rely on the count's promises?"

"Certainly I do."

"You are sure he will keep his word with me?"

"To the letter, but at the same time, remember, we must continue to play our respective parts. I, as a tender father"--

"And I as a dutiful son, as they choose that I shall be descended from you."

"Whom do you mean by they?"

"Ma foi! I can hardly tell, but I was alluding to those who wrote the letter; you received one, did you not?"

"Yes."

"From whom?"

"From a certain Abbé Busoni."

"Have you any knowledge of him?"

"No, I have never seen him."

"What did he say in the letter?"

"You will promise not to betray me?"

"Rest assured of that; you well know that our interests are the same."

"Then read for yourself;" and the major gave a letter into the young man's hand. Andrea read in a low voice--

"You are poor; a miserable old age awaits you. Would you like to become rich, or at least independent? Set out immediately for Paris, and demand of the Count of Monte Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysées, No. 30, the son whom you had by the Marchesa Corsinari, and who was taken from you at five years of age. This son is named Andrea Cavalcanti. In order that you may not doubt the kind intention of the writer of this letter, you will find enclosed an order for 2,400 francs, payable in Florence, at Signor Gozzi's; also a letter of introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, on whom I give you a draft of 48,000 francs. Remember to go to the count on the 26th May at seven o'clock in the evening.

(Signed)

"ABBé BUSONI."

"It is the same."

"What do you mean?" said the major.

"I was going to say that I received a letter almost to the same effect."

"You?"

"Yes."

"From the Abbé Busoni?"

"No."

"From whom, then?"

"From an Englishman, called Lord Wilmore, who takes the name of Sinbad the Sailor."

"And of whom you have no more knowledge than I of the Abbé Busoni?"

"You are mistaken; there I am ahead of you."

"You have seen him, then?"

"Yes, once."

"Where?"

"Ah, that is just what I cannot tell you; if I did, I should make you as wise as myself, which it is not my intention to do."

"And what did the letter contain?"

"Read it."

"'You are poor, and your future prospects are dark and gloomy. Do you wish for a name? should you like to be rich, and your own master?'"

"Ma foi!" said the young man; "was it possible there could be two answers to such a question?"

"Take the post-chaise which you will find waiting at the Porte de Gênes, as you enter Nice; pass through Turin, Chambéry, and Pont-de-Beauvoisin. Go to the Count of Monte Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysées, on the 26th of May, at seven o'clock in the evening, and demand of him your father. You are the son of the Marchese Cavalcanti and the Marchesa Oliva Corsinari. The marquis will give you some papers which will certify this fact, and authorize you to appear under that name in the Parisian world. As to your rank, an annual income of 50,000 livres will enable you to support it admirably. I enclose a draft for 5,000 livres, payable on M. Ferrea, banker at Nice, and also a letter of introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, whom I have directed to supply all your wants.

"SINBAD THE SAILOR."

"Humph," said the major; "very good. You have seen the count, you say?"

"I have only just left him "

"And has he conformed to all that the letter specified?"

"He has."

"Do you understand it?"

"Not in the least."

"There is a dupe somewhere."

"At all events, it is neither you nor I."

"Certainly not."

"Well, then"--

"Why, it does not much concern us, do you think it does?"

"No; I agree with you there. We must play the game to the end, and consent to be blindfold."

"Ah, you shall see; I promise you I will sustain my part to admiration."

"I never once doubted your doing so." Monte Cristo chose this moment for re-entering the drawing-room. On hearing the sound of his footsteps, the two men threw themselves in each other's arms, and while they were in the midst of this embrace, the count entered. "Well, marquis," said Monte Cristo, "you appear to be in no way disappointed in the son whom your good fortune has restored to you."

"Ah, your excellency, I am overwhelmed with delight."

"And what are your feelings?" said Monte Cristo, turning to the young man.

"As for me, my heart is overflowing with happiness."

"Happy father, happy son!" said the count.

"There is only one thing which grieves me," observed the major, "and that is the necessity for my leaving Paris so soon."

"Ah, my dear M. Cavalcanti, I trust you will not leave before I have had the honor of presenting you to some of my friends."

"I am at your service, sir," replied the major.

"Now, sir," said Monte Cristo, addressing Andrea, "make your confession."

"To whom?"

"Tell M. Cavalcanti something of the state of your finances."

"Ma foi! monsieur, you have touched upon a tender chord."

"Do you hear what he says, major?"

"Certainly I do."

"But do you understand?"

"I do."

"Your son says he requires money."

"Well, what would you have me do?" said the major.

"You should furnish him with some of course," replied Monte Cristo.

"I?"

"Yes, you," said the count, at the same time advancing towards Andrea, and slipping a packet of bank-notes into the young man's hand.

"What is this?"

"It is from your father."

"From my father?"

"Yes; did you not tell him just now that you wanted money? Well, then, he deputes me to give you this."

"Am I to consider this as part of my income on account?"

"No, it is for the first expenses of your settling in Paris."

"Ah, how good my dear father is!"

"Silence," said Monte Cristo; "he does not wish you to know that it comes from him."

"I fully appreciate his delicacy," said Andrea, cramming the notes hastily into his pocket.

"And now, gentlemen, I wish you good-morning," said Monte Cristo.

"And when shall we have the honor of seeing you again, your excellency?" asked Cavalcanti.

"Ah," said Andrea, "when may we hope for that pleasure?"

"On Saturday, if you will--Yes.--Let me see--Saturday--I am to dine at my country house, at Auteuil, on that day, Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28. Several persons are invited, and among others, M. Danglars, your banker. I will introduce you to him, for it will be necessary he should know you, as he is to pay your money."

"Full dress?" said the major, half aloud.

"Oh, yes, certainly," said the count; "uniform, cross, knee-breeches."

"And how shall I be dressed?" demanded Andrea.

"Oh, very simply; black trousers, patent leather boots, white waistcoat, either a black or blue coat, and a long cravat. Go to Blin or Veronique for your clothes. Baptistin will tell you where, if you do not know their address. The less pretension there is in your attire, the better will be the effect, as you are a rich man. If you mean to buy any horses, get them of Devedeux, and if you purchase a phaeton, go to Baptiste for it."

"At what hour shall we come?" asked the young man.

"About half-past six."

"We will be with you at that time," said the major. The two Cavalcanti bowed to the count, and left the house. Monte Cristo went to the window, and saw them crossing the street, arm in arm. "There go two miscreants;" said he, "it is a pity they are not really related!"--then, after an instant of gloomy reflection, "Come, I will go to see the Morrels," said he; "I think that disgust is even more sickening than hatred."

基督山伯爵走进隔壁房间，也就是巴浦斯汀所说的那个蓝客厅的房间，看到里面有一个风度翩翩、仪表温雅的青年。

他在半小时前乘着一辆出租马车来到这里。他来登门求见的时候，巴浦斯汀轻易地认出了他是谁，因为伯爵事先已向他详细描述过来客的相貌，所以一看见这位黄头发、棕色胡子、黑色眼睛、白色皮肤、身材高大的青年，自然就毫无疑问了。

伯爵走进来的时候，这位青年正随便地躺在一张沙发上，用手里拿着的那根金头手杖轻轻敲打他的皮靴。一见伯爵进来，他赶紧站起来。“是基督山伯爵吧，我想？”他说。

“是的，阁下，我想您就是安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵阁下吧？”

“安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵。”青年一面重复说着这个头衔，一面鞠了一躬。

“您带了一封介绍信来见我，是不是？”伯爵说。

“我之所以没有提及那一点，是因为我觉得那个署名非常古怪。”

“‘水手辛巴德’，是不是？”

“一点不错。因为除了《一千零一夜》里那位声名赫赫的辛巴德外，我从来就不认识姓这个姓的任何一个人——”

“哦！他就是那个辛巴德的一个后裔，而且是我的一个好朋友。他是个非常有钱的英国人，为人古怪得几近疯狂。他的真名叫威玛勋爵。”

“啊，是这样！那就都明白了，”安德烈说，“那倒是很特别的。那么，这个英国人就是我在——啊——是的——好极了！伯爵阁下，我悉听您的吩咐就是了。”

“如果您说的都是实情，伯爵微笑着说道，“大概您可以把您自己和府上的事情讲一点给我听听？”

“当然可以，”青年说，他的神色很从容，显示他的记忆力很健全。“我，正如您所说的，是安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂子爵，巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校的儿子——我们卡瓦尔康蒂这个家族的名字曾铭刻在佛罗伦萨的金书上。本族虽然还很富有（因为家父的收入达五十万，却曾遭受过许多挫折，而在我五岁的时候就让我那位奸诈的家庭教师拐走，所以我已经十五年没见到我生身之父了。等我到了能了解事实之年，可以自主以后，我就一直不停地找他，但都一无所获。最后，我接到您朋友的这封信，说家父在巴黎，并叫我亲自找您来打听他的消息。”

“真的，您所讲的这些话我觉得非常有趣，”基督山怀着阴沉的满意望着那个青年说，“您把您的所有心事都倾诉给敝友辛巴德做的很对，因为您的父亲的确就在这儿，而且正在寻找您。”

伯爵从走进客厅来的那一刻起，一直就没有一刻忽略过那个青年脸上的表情。他很佩服他神情的平定和声音的稳健；但一听到“您的父亲的确就在这儿，而且正在寻找您”这两句十分平常的话，小安德烈吃了一惊，喊道：“我的父亲！我的父亲在这儿？”

“这没有什么好怀疑的，”基督山答道，“令尊，巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校。”

那一时布满青年脸上的恐怖神色几乎立刻就烟消云散。

“啊，是的！当然是叫那个名字，”他说：“巴陀罗米奥·卡瓦尔康蒂少校。而您真的是说，伯爵阁下，我那位亲爱的父亲就在这儿吗？”

“是的，阁下，我甚至还可以再说上一句，我刚才还跟他在一起呢。他跟我讲起他失子的那些经过，我听后深受感动。确实，他在那一件事上的忧虑、希望和恐惧完全可以用作一首最哀怨动人的诗作的素材。有一天，他总算收到一封信，说拐走他儿子的那帮人现在愿意归还给他，至少可以通知他上哪儿去找，但要得到一大笔钱作赎金。令尊毫不迟疑，差人把那笔款子送到皮埃蒙特边境上，还带去了一张去意大利的护照。您那时是在法国南部吧，我想？”

“是的，”安德烈用一种尴尬的口气答道，’我是在法国南部。”

“一辆马车派在尼斯等您。”

“一点不错。它载着我从尼斯到热那亚，从热那亚到都灵，从都灵到尚贝里，从尚贝里到波伏森湖，又从波伏森湖到巴黎。”

“是这样！那么令尊应该在路上碰到您了，因为他恰好也是走那条路线来的，照此推算，路上经过的各站一点都不错。”

“但是，”安德烈说，“即使家父曾碰到过我，我也很怀疑他是不是还认得我，从他最后那次见我以来，我肯定已有多少变化了。”

“噢，俗话说父子天性呀。”基督山说。

“没错，”青年说，“我倒没有想到父子天性这一句俗语。”

“令尊的心里现在就对一件事还觉得有点不踏实，”基督山答道，“就是他迫切想知道您在离开他的那一段时间里情况。那些害您的人怎么对待您，他们对您的态度是否还顾及过您的身份。最后，他迫切想知道您是不是有幸地摆脱过精神上的不良影响，那肯定要比任何肉体上的痛苦更不可忍受，他希望知道您天生的优良本性有没有因为缺乏教育而被削弱。总之，您自己到底认为您能不能重新在社会上维持与您高贵的身份相称的地位。”

“阁下，”青年喃喃地说，简直吓傻了，“我希望没有什么谣言——”

“就我个人说，我第一次听到您的大名是那位慈善家敝友威玛告诉我的。我相信他初次和您相见的时候您的境况颇不愉快，但详细情形我不了解，因为我并没有细问，我不是一个好究根问底的人。您的不幸引起了他的同情，所以您那时候的状况肯定很有意思。他跟我说，他非常想恢复您所丧失的地位，一定要找到令尊不可。他真的去找了，而且显然已找到了他，因为他现在已经在这儿了。最后，敝友通知我您快要来了，并且给了我有关您前途的幸福的指令。我知道敝友威玛是个奇人，但他为人很诚恳，而且金矿一般富有，所以他可以随心所欲按他的怪癖行事而不必担心自己会倾家荡产，而我也已答应执行他的指令。先生，我现在站在赞助人位置上觉得有责任问您一个问题，请千万不必介意。按照您的财产和名份，您就要成为一位显赫人物，我很想知道，您所遭遇的不幸——这种不幸绝不是您自己所能应付，因此一点儿都不减少我对您的敬意——我很想知道，他们有没有做过什么而让您对快要踏入的那个社会茫然无知？”

“阁下，”青年回答，在伯爵说话的时候，他已逐渐恢复了他的自信心，“这方面您放心好了。把我从家父身边拐走的那些人，正象他们现在事实上已经表现出来的那样，从来都存心要把我卖回给他的，而出于使他们的交易获得最大利益的打算，最妙的办法，莫过于让我保全我的社会身份和天资，如果可能的话，甚至还需要加以改进。小亚细亚的奴隶主常常培养他们的奴隶当文法教师、医生和哲学家，以便可以在罗马市场上卖个好价钱，那些拐子待我也正是这样，所以我倒受了很好的教育。”基督山满意地微笑了一下，看来好象他原来并没想到安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生能这样机警老练似的。“而且，”那位青年人继续说，“即使在教育上有什么不足的地方，或者对于既定的礼仪有什么违误之外，但念及我与生俱来以及此后始终伴随着我的整个幼年时代的不幸，他们也会予以谅解的。”

“很好，”基督山用一种局外人的口吻说，“悉听尊便，子爵，因为您的行为当然得您自己作主，而且跟您也最利害相关。但如果我是您，我对于这些奇遇就一个字都不说出去。您的身世简直就是一篇传奇式的故事。世人虽然喜欢夹在两张黄纸封面之间的传奇故事，但说来奇怪，对于那些装在活生生的羊皮纸里面的，却反而不肯相信，即使出之于象您这样一位体面的人物之口。我很想提醒您这一类的麻烦，子爵阁下。要是您对什么人谈起您这段动人的身世，那么您的话还没说完，就会传得沸沸扬扬，而且被认为象是编造的。您因此就不再是一个被拐走而又寻获的孩子，而会被人看作一个象夜间长出来的香蕈那样的暴发户。您也许会引起一些人小小的好奇心，而成了人们谈话的中心和流言蜚语的题目，看来总不是谁都愿意的。”

“我同意您的看法，伯爵阁下，”青年说道，在基督山的目光的逼视下，他的脸色不禁变得苍白起来。“这种结果的确不愉快。”

“但是，您当然用不着夸大您的不幸，”基督山说，“但也不必为了竭力避免以至顾此失彼。您必须下决心采取一条单纯的行动路线，而象您这么个聪明人，这个计划很容易做得到，而且也十分必要。您必须结交一些好朋友，以此来抵销那种您以前的微贱生活可能招致的偏见。”安德烈脸上顿然失色。“我本来可以提出来作您的担保人和可靠的顾问，”基督山说，“但我生性对我最好的朋友也有怀疑的态度，而且很愿意使他们对我也有这种态度，所以，要是背离了这条规则，我就等于在扮演外行角色，很有被嘲笑的危险，那未免就太傻了。”

“但是，伯爵阁下，”安德烈说，“我是威玛勋爵介绍来见您的，看他的份儿上——”

“是的，当然罗，”基督山打断他的话说，“我亲爱的安德烈先生，但威玛勋爵并没有忘记告诉我您的幼年生活颇多风波。”伯爵注视着安德烈的脸说，“我并不要求您向我说明，而且，正是因为免得您有求于任何人，才到卢卡去请令尊来的。您马上就可以见到他了。他的为人稍微有点拘谨和高傲，而且因为穿着制服关系，仪表上差了一点，但大家知道了他在奥地利军团中服役的时候，一切都可以得到谅解了。我们对奥地利人一般都不十分苛求。反正，您一会儿就会知道令尊是一位很体面的人物，我可以向您保证。”

“啊，先生，您让我放心了，我们分别已经这么久，所以我一点儿记不得他长什么样子了。”

“而且，您知道，在一般人们的眼睛里，一笔大家产是可以弥补一切缺陷的。”

“那么，家父真的很有钱吗，阁下？”

“他是位大富翁——他的年收入达五十万里弗。”

“那么，”青年急切地说，“我的境况一定可以很体面了。”

“最体面不过了，我亲爱的先生。在您住在巴黎的期间，他每年可以让您有五万里弗的收入。”

“真是这样的话，我情愿永远留在这儿了。”

“环境是您无能为力的，我亲爱的先生，‘谋事在人，成事在天’。”

安德烈叹息了一声。“但是，”他说，“在我留在巴黎而不必非得离开的期间，您真认为我可以拿到您刚才向我说过的那笔款子吗？”

“可以。”

“从家父手里拿吗？”安德烈略带不安地问。

“是的，您可以亲自向令尊要，那笔钱威玛勋爵可以担保。他按令尊的要求，在腾格拉尔先生那儿开了一个月支五千法郎的户头，腾格拉尔先生的银行是巴黎最保险的银行之一。”

“家父打算长住巴黎吗？”安德烈问。

“就住几天，”基督山答道。“他的职务原因，不便一次离开两三个星期以上。”

“啊，我亲爱的父亲！”安德烈喊道，显然很高兴他这么快就离开。

“所以，”基督山说，假装误会了他的意思——“所以我不再拖延你们这次难得的会面了。你做好准备去拥抱您的可爱的父亲了吗？”

“我希望您不会怀疑这一点。”

“去吧，那么，在客厅里，我的青年朋友，可以看见令尊正在那儿等候您。”

安德烈向伯爵深深地鞠了一躬，走进隔壁房间。基督山一直注视到看不见他了，然后按了一按一个机关。这个机关从外表看象是一幅画。按过之后，镜框滑开一块儿，露出一条小缝，小缝设计得非常巧妙，从那儿可以窥见那间现在卡瓦尔康蒂和安德烈所在的客厅里的一切情形。那位青年人随手把门带上，朝少校走过去，少校听到向他走过来的脚步声，就站起身来。“啊！我亲爱的爸爸！”安德烈说，声音很响，希望让隔壁房间里的伯爵听得到，“真的是您吗？”

“你好吗，我亲爱的儿子？”少校郑重地说。

“经过这么多年痛苦的分别后，”安德烈以同样的口吻说，并瞟了一眼那扇门，“现在又重逢了，多么让人快活！”

“真是这样，经过这么多年的分别。”

“您不拥抱我吗，大人？”安德烈说。

“可以的，如果你愿意的话，我的儿子。”少校说。于是那两个男人象在舞台上演戏样的拥抱起来，也就是各自把头搁在对方的肩胛上。

“那么我们又团圆了吗？”安德烈说。

“又团圆啦！”少校回答。

“永远不分离了吗？”

“哦，关于那一点，我想，我亲爱的儿子，您现在一定在法国住惯了，快把它当作你的祖国了吧。”

“实际上，”青年说，“要我离开巴黎，我真难过极了。”

“对于我，您得知道，我是不能长期离开卢卡的，所以我得尽快赶回意大利去。”

“但在您离开法国以前，我亲爱的爸爸，我希望您能把那些证明我身份的必要证明文件交给我。”

“当然喽，我这次就是专门为这件事来的。我费了那么大的苦心来找你——就是为了要把那些文件交给你——我实在不想再来找一次了，要是再找一次的话，我的残年都要耗费在这上面啦。”

“那么，这些文件在哪儿呢？”

“就在这儿。”

安德烈把他父亲的结婚证书和他自己的受洗证明书一把抢过来，急不可待地打开它们（在此情此景之下，他的急切是很自然的），然后十分迅速地把它们看了一遍，看得出他是常看这一类文件的；从他脸上的表情可以看出他对文件的内容极感兴趣。他看完那些证件的时候，他的脸上洋溢出一种无比兴奋的表情。他用一种最古怪的微笑望着少校，用非常纯正的托斯卡纳语说：“那么意大利已废止苦役船了吗？”

少校身子挺得笔直。“什么？这个问题是什么意思？”

“因为编造这一类文件是要吃官司的。在法国，我最最亲爱的爸爸啊，只需做一半这种程度的手脚，他们就会把您送到土伦去呼吸五年监狱里的空气的呀。”

“请你把你的意思说明一下好不好？”少校极力做出一种庄重的神气说。

“我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”安德烈用一种诚恳的神态握住少校的手臂说，“你做我的父亲得了多少钱？”少校想说话，但安德烈压低了声音继续说，“无聊！我给你做个榜样好使你放心，他们一年付我五万法郎做你的儿子，因此，你能明白我决不愿意不承认你做我的爸爸。”少校焦急地往四下看了一眼。“你放心吧，只有我们两个人，”安德烈说，“而且，我们是在用意大利语谈话。”

“哦，那么，”少校答道，“他们付我五万法郎。”

“卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”安德烈说，“你相不相信童话？”

“我以前是不相信的，但我真的觉得现在几乎不得不相信它们啦。”

“那么，你总该有点证据吧？”

少校从他的口袋里摸出一把金币来。“你看，”他说，很明白吧。”

“那么，你认为我可以相信伯爵的许诺吗？”

“我当然相信。”

“你真相信他会对我恪守他的诺言？”

“恪守信上的话，但同时，请记住我们必须继续扮演我们各自的角色。我当一位慈父——”

“我当一个孝子，既然他们选定了我做你的后代。”

“你这个‘他们’是指谁？”

“天知道！我也说不出来，但我指的是那些写信的人。你收到了一封信，是不是？”

“是的。”

“谁写给你的？”

“一个什么布沙尼神甫。”

“你认不认识他？”

“不认识，我从来没有见过他。”

“他在那封信里说了些什么？”

“你能答应不出卖我吗？”

“这一点你尽管放心，你很明白，我们有着共同的利害。”

“那么你自己去念吧。”于是少校把一封信交到那青年手里。安德烈低声念道：“你穷困潦倒，等待你的是一个凄凉的晚年。你想发财吗，或者至少不仰赖他人？马上动身到巴黎去，找香榭丽舍大道三十号门牌的基督山伯爵去要你的儿子。这个儿子名叫安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂，是您和高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的婚姻果实，五岁的时候被人拐走。为了免得让你怀疑写这封信的人的真诚，先附奉两千四百托斯卡纳里弗的支票一张，请到佛罗伦萨高齐银行去兑现；并附上致基督山伯爵的介绍函一封，函内述明我许你向他提用四万八千法郎。记住到伯爵那儿去的时间是在五月二十六日晚上七点钟。

——布沙尼神甫“一样的东西。”

“你是什么意思？”少校说。

“我的意思是我收到一封差不多一样的信。”

“你？”

“是的。”

“布沙尼神甫写来的？”

“不。”

“谁，那么？”

“一个英国人，名叫威玛勋爵，他化名叫水手辛巴德。”

“那么对他，你对布沙尼神甫知道得并不比我多吧。”

“你错了，在那一方面，我比你好一些。”

“那么你见过他喽？”

“是的，一次。”

“在哪儿见的？”

“啊！那一点恰恰我不能告诉你，如果告诉了你，你就会跟我一样明白了，我并不想那样做。”

“信里面讲了些什么？”

“念吧。”

“你很穷，你的未来阴暗无望。你想做一个贵人吗，喜不喜欢发财和自由自在？”

“我的天！”青年说，“这样的问题还可能有两种答案吗？”

“请到尼斯去，你可以在几尼司门找到一辆等候你的驿车。经都灵、尚贝里、波伏森湖到巴黎。在五月二十六日晚上七点钟到香榭丽舍大道去找基督山伯爵，找他要你的父亲。你是卡瓦尔康蒂侯爵和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的儿子。侯爵会给你一些文件证明这件事实，并许你用那个姓在巴黎社交界出现。至于你的身份，每年有五万里弗的收入就可以过得很不错了。附上五千里弗的支票一张，可到尼斯费里亚银行去兑现，并附上致基督山伯爵的介绍函一封，我已嘱他供给你一切所需。水手辛巴德”

“好极了！”少校说，“你说，你已见过伯爵，是不是？”

“我刚才刚从他那儿来。”

“他有没有证实信上所说的那一切？”

“证实了。”

“你明白不明白是怎么一回事？”

“一点不明白。”

“其中肯定有一个受骗的人。”

“反正不会是你，也不会是我。”

“当然不是。”

“嗯，那么——”

“你以为这个与我们无关吗？”

“一点不错，我正想这么说。我们把这出戏演到底吧，闭着眼睛干就行了。”

“同意，你看吧，我一定把我的角色演得好好的。”

“我对此丝毫不怀疑，我亲爱的爸爸。”

基督山在这个时候又走进客厅。听到他的脚步声，两个男人就互相搂抱在了一起。伯爵进来的时候，他们仍然这样拥抱着。

“啊，侯爵，”基督山说，“看来您对于幸运之神送还给您的这个儿子并不失望吧。”

“啊，伯爵阁下，我高兴得不能再高兴了。”

“您感觉如何？”基督山转过去对那个青年人说。

“我吗？我的心里充满着欢乐。”

“幸福的父亲！幸福的儿子！”伯爵说。

“只是有一件事情还让我发愁，”少校说，“因为我必须马上离开巴黎。”

“啊！我亲爱的卡瓦尔康蒂先生，”基督山说，“我希望您赏脸让我介绍您见见我的几位朋友，我想您可以在见过他们以后再走。”

“我悉听您的吩咐，阁下。”少校答道。

“现在，阁下，”基督山对安德烈说，“把您的真实情形说出来吧。”

“说给谁听？”

“咦，说给令尊听呀，把您的经济状况说些给他听听。”

“啊，真的！”安德烈说，“您说到我的心里去啦。”

“您听到他说的话了吗，少校？”

“我当然听到了。”

“可您懂不懂呢？”

“懂。”

“令郎是说他需要钱用。”

“哦！您叫我怎么办呢？”少校说。

“您当然应该给他一点喽。”基督山回答。

“我？”

“是的，您！”伯爵说，同时向安德烈走过去，把一包钞票塞到青年的手里。

“这是什么？”

“令尊给的。”

“家父给的？”

“对，您刚才不是跟他说您要钱用吗？他委托我把这包钱给您。”

“这算是我的一部分收入吗？”

“不算，这是您在巴黎的安家费。”

“啊！我的爸爸多伟大呀！”

“别嚷嚷！”基督山说，“他不想让您知道这是他给您的。”

“我很理解他这种体贴的心思。”安德烈说，连忙把钞票塞进他的口袋。

“现在，二位，我祝你们晚安。”基督山说道。

“我们什么时候才能再有幸见到您呢？”卡瓦尔康蒂问。

“啊，对！”安德烈说，“我们在什么时候才可以再这么与你愉相见快呢？”

“星期六，如果你们——是的——让我想想看——星期六。星期六晚上我在欧特伊村芳丹街二十八号的别墅里请客人吃饭。我请了几个人，其中就有你们的银行家腾格拉尔先生。我自然会介绍你们和他见面，他必需见了你们二位的面才能付钱给你们。”

“要穿礼服吗？”少校说，这几个字说得铿锵有劲。

“噢，是的，当然罗！”伯爵说，“制服，十字章，扎脚裤。”

“我穿什么呢？”安德烈问。

“噢，很简单，黑裤子，黑皮鞋，白背心，一件黑色或蓝色的上装，一个大领结。您的衣服可以到勃林或维罗尼克那儿去订做。要是您不知道他们住在哪儿，巴浦斯汀可以告诉您。您的服装愈少修饰，效果就愈好，因为您是一个有钱人。如果您要买马，可以到德维都那儿去买，要是买马车，可以去找倍铁斯蒂。”

“我们几点钟来？”青年问道。

“六点钟左右。”

“我们那时一定到。”少校说。

卡瓦尔康蒂父子向伯爵鞠了一躬，告辞而去。基督山走到窗户前，看看他们手挽着手正往大街对面走。“这两个光棍！”他说。“可惜他们不真是父子！”于是，在沉思一会儿之后，“走，我去看看莫雷尔去！”他说，“我觉得这种厌恶感简直比憎恨还叫人受不了。”