"GENTLEMEN," said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered, "I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated; but I feared to disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments; besides, you sent me word that you would come to me, and I have held myself at your disposal."

"Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times, count," returned Albert; "you extricated us from a great dilemma, and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us."

"Indeed," returned the count, motioning the two young men to sit down. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini, that I did not sooner assist you in your distress. He did not mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me, when he knows that, alone and isolated as I am, I seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. As soon as I learned I could in any way assist you, I most eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services." The two young men bowed. Franz had, as yet, found nothing to say; he had come to no determination, and as nothing in the count's manner manifested the wish that he should recognize him, he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past, or wait until he had more proof; besides, although sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening, he could not be equally positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. He resolved, therefore, to let things take their course without making any direct overture to the count. Moreover, he had this advantage, he was master of the count's secret, while the count had no hold on Franz, who had nothing to conceal. However, he resolved to lead the conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts.

"Count," said he, "you have offered us places in your carriage, and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can you tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?"

"Ah," said the count negligently, looking attentively at Morcerf, "is there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?"

"Yes," returned Franz, finding that the count was coming to the point he wished.

"Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this; perhaps I can render you this slight service also." He extended his hand, and rang the bell thrice.

"Did you ever occupy yourself," said he to Franz, "with the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your servants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet; twice, for my majordomo; thrice, for my steward,--thus I do not waste a minute or a word. Here he is." A man of about forty-five or fifty entered, exactly resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern; but he did not appear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders. "Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "you have procured me windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered you yesterday "

"Yes, excellency," returned the steward; "but it was very late."

"Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count, frowning.

"And your excellency has one, which was let to Prince Lobanieff; but I was obliged to pay a hundred"--

"That will do--that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio; spare these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. You have the window, that is sufficient. Give orders to the coachman; and be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it." The steward bowed, and was about to quit the room. "Ah," continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account of the execution."

"There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out his tablets; "for I saw the account, and copied it down."

"Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us know when breakfast is ready. These gentlemen," added he, turning to the two friends, "will, I trust, do me the honor to breakfast with me?"

"But, my dear count," said Albert, "we shall abuse your kindness."

"Not at all; on the contrary, you will give me great pleasure. You will, one or other of you, perhaps both, return it to me at Paris. M. Bertuccio, lay covers for three." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. "'We announce,' he read, in the same tone with which he would have read a newspaper, 'that to-day, the 23d of February, will be executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on the person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran, and Peppino, called Rocca Priori, convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.' Hum! 'The first will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.' Yes," continued the count, "it was at first arranged in this way; but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony."

"Really?" said Franz.

"Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's, and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men."

"For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz.

"No," replied the count, carelessly; "for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name), for Peppino, called Rocca Priori. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined; but the mazzuola still remains, which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time, and even the second, while the other, as you must know, is very simple. The [1] never fails, never trembles, never strikes thirty times ineffectually, like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais, and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer. Ah," added the count, in a contemptuous tone, "do not tell me of European punishments, they are in the infancy, or rather the old age, of cruelty."

"Really, count," replied Franz, "one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world."

"There are, at least, few that I have not seen," said the count coldly.

"And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?"

"My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, the third curiosity."

"Curiosity--that is a terrible word."

"Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death; is it not then, curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part; and how, according to their different characters, temperaments, and even the different customs of their countries, different persons bear the transition from life to death, from existence to annihilation? As for myself, I can assure you of one thing,--the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to die yourself; and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but it is not an expiation."

"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz; "pray explain your meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch."

"Listen," said the count, and deep hatred mounted to his face, as the blood would to the face of any other. "If a man had by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father, your mother, your betrothed,--a being who, when torn from you, left a desolation, a wound that never closes, in your breast,--do you think the reparation that society gives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of the guillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezal muscles of the murderer, and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?"

"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice is insufficient to console us; she can give blood in return for blood, that is all; but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant."

"I will put another case to you," continued the count; "that where society, attacked by the death of a person, avenges death by death. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them, or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks, the augers of the Persians, the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians, are inadequate tortures, and which are unpunished by society? Answer me, do not these crimes exist?"

"Yes," answered Franz; "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated."

"Ah, duelling," cried the count; "a pleasant manner, upon my soul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to expect from heaven that portion of happiness God his promised to every one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your heart. And remember, moreover, that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world. No, no," continued the count, "had I to avenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge."

"Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange theory.

"Oh, yes," replied the count; "understand me, I would fight a duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the more so that, thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises, and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired, I should be almost certain to kill my man. Oh, I would fight for such a cause; but in return for a slow, profound, eternal torture, I would give back the same, were it possible; an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalists say,--our masters in everything,--those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities."

"But," said Franz to the count, "with this theory, which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause, it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. Hatred is blind, rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught."

"Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich and skilful; besides, the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken, and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. What matters this punishment, as long as he is avenged? On my word, I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded, as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts, and whether it is worth even mentioning; but, really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival, gentlemen; how did it arise? Ah, I recollect, you asked for a place at my window; you shall have it; but let us first sit down to table, for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready." As he spoke, a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment, saying--"Al suo commodo!" The two young men arose and entered the breakfast-room.

During the meal, which was excellent, and admirably served, Franz looked repeatedly at Albert, in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer; but whether with his usual carelessness he had paid but little attention to him, whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with regard to duelling had satisfied him, or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone, he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them, but on the contrary ate like a man who for the last four or five months had been condemned to partake of Italian cookery--that is, the worst in the world. As for the count, he just touched the dishes; he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests, and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in spite of himself, the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G----, and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. "Well," said the count, "what are you doing?"

"You must excuse us, count," returned Franz, "but we have still much to do."

"What may that be?"

"We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procure them."

"Do not concern yourself about that; we have, I think, a private room in the Piazza del Popolo; I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us, and you can dress there."

"After the execution?" cried Franz.

"Before or after, whichever you please."

"Opposite the scaffold?"

"The scaffold forms part of the fête."

"Count, I have reflected on the matter," said Franz, "I thank you for your courtesy, but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace, and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo."

"But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight," returned the count.

"You will describe it to me," replied Franz, "and the recital from your lips will make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. I have more than once intended witnessing an execution, but I have never been able to make up my mind; and you, Albert?"

"I," replied the viscount,--"I saw Castaing executed, but I think I was rather intoxicated that day, for I had quitted college the same morning, and we had passed the previous night at a tavern."

"Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhere else; when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked, 'How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply, 'I do not know'! And, besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel, who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son. Diable! when a churchman is killed, it should be with a different weapon than a log, especially when he has behaved like a father. If you went to Spain, would you not see the bull-fight? Well, suppose it is a bull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of the Circus, and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators, the sage matrons who took their daughters, and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said, 'Come, despatch the dying.'"

"Shall you go, then, Albert?" asked Franz.

"Ma foi! yes; like you, I hesitated, but the count's eloquence decides me."

"Let us go, then," said Franz, "since you wish it; but on our way to the Piazza del Popolo, I wish to pass through the Corso. Is this possible, count?"

"On foot, yes, in a carriage, no."

"I will go on foot, then."

"Is it important that you should go that way?"

"Yes, there is something I wish to see."

"Well, we will go by the Corso. We will send the carriage to wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo, by the Strada del Babuino, for I shall be glad to pass, myself, through the Corso, to see if some orders I have given have been executed."

"Excellency," said a servant, opening the door, "a man in the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you."

"Ah, yes" returned the count, "I know who he is, gentlemen; will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on the centre table. I will be with you directly." The young men rose and returned into the salon, while the count, again apologizing, left by another door. Albert, who was a great smoker, and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be deprived of the cigars of the Café de Paris, approached the table, and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable pueros.

"Well," asked Franz, "what think you of the Count of Monte Cristo?"

"What do I think?" said Albert, evidently surprised at such a question from his companion; "I think he is a delightful fellow, who does the honors of his table admirably; who has travelled much, read much, is, like Brutus, of the Stoic school, and moreover," added he, sending a volume of smoke up towards the ceiling, "that he has excellent cigars." Such was Albert's opinion of the count, and as Franz well knew that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon long reflection, he made no attempt to change it. "But," said he, "did you observe one very singular thing?"

"What?"

"How attentively he looked at you."

"At me?"

"Yes."--Albert reflected. "Ah," replied he, sighing, "that is not very surprising; I have been more than a year absent from Paris, and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut; the count takes me for a provincial. The first opportunity you have, undeceive him, I beg, and tell him I am nothing of the kind." Franz smiled; an instant after the count entered.

"I am now quite at your service, gentlemen," said he. "The carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo, and we will go another; and, if you please, by the Corso. Take some more of these cigars, M. de Morcerf."

"With all my heart," returned Albert; "Italian cigars are horrible. When you come to Paris, I will return all this."

"I will not refuse; I intend going there soon, and since you allow me, I will pay you a visit. Come, we have not any time to lose, it is half-past twelve--let us set off." All three descended; the coachman received his master's orders, and drove down the Via del Babuino. While the three gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via Frattina, which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli palaces, Franz's attention was directed towards the windows of that last palace, for he had not forgotten the signal agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the Transtevere peasant. "Which are your windows?" asked he of the count, with as much indifference as he could assume. "The three last," returned he, with a negligence evidently unaffected, for he could not imagine with what intention the question was put. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three windows. The side windows were hung with yellow damask, and the centre one with white damask and a red cross. The man in the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin, and there could now be no doubt that he was the count. The three windows were still untenanted. Preparations were making on every side; chairs were placed, scaffolds were raised, and windows were hung with flags. The masks could not appear; the carriages could not move about; but the masks were visible behind the windows, the carriages, and the doors.

Franz, Albert, and the count continued to descend the Corso. As they approached the Piazza del Popolo, the crowd became more dense, and above the heads of the multitude two objects were visible: the obelisk, surmounted by a cross, which marks the centre of the square, and in front of the obelisk, at the point where the three streets, del Babuino, del Corso, and di Ripetta, meet, the two uprights of the scaffold, between which glittered the curved knife of the mandaia. At the corner of the street they met the count's steward, who was awaiting his master. The window, let at an exorbitant price, which the count had doubtless wished to conceal from his guests, was on the second floor of the great palace, situated between the Via del Babuino and the Monte Pincio. It consisted, as we have said, of a small dressing-room, opening into a bedroom, and, when the door of communication was shut, the inmates were quite alone. On chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and white satin. "As you left the choice of your costumes to me," said the count to the two friends, "I have had these brought, as they will be the most worn this year; and they are most suitable, on account of the confetti (sweetmeats), as they do not show the flour."

Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes; for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine,--we say guillotine, because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. [2] The knife, which is shaped like a crescent, that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height, and that is all the difference. Two men, seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid, were eating their breakfasts, while waiting for the criminal. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. One of them lifted the plank, took out a flask of wine, drank some, and then passed it to his companion. These two men were the executioner's assistants. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. The prisoners, transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed the night, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closed by a grating, before which were two sentinels, who were relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placed on each side of the door of the church, reached to the scaffold, and formed a circle around it, leaving a path about ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. Many women held their infants on their shoulders, and thus the children had the best view. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators; the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed; the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea, that was impelled towards the portico; every niche in the wall held its living statue. What the count said was true--the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughter and jests arose from the crowd. It was evident that the execution was, in the eyes of the people, only the commencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult ceased, as if by magic, and the doors of the church opened. A brotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding in their hands lighted tapers, appeared first; the chief marched at the head. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. He was naked, with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge-hammer. This man was the executioner. He had, moreover, sandals bound on his feet by cords. Behind the executioner came, in the order in which they were to die, first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was accompanied by two priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino walked with a firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea was supported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time, kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. He looked at Albert--he was as white as his shirt, and mechanically cast away his cigar, although he had not half smoked it. The count alone seemed unmoved--nay, more, a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey, and his lips, half opened, disclosed his white teeth, small and sharp like those of a jackal. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz had never before witnessed in them; his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. However, the two culprits advanced, and as they approached their faces became visible. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty, bronzed by the sun; he carried his head erect, and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. Andrea was short and fat; his visage, marked with brutal cruelty, did not indicate age; he might be thirty. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow; his head fell on his shoulder, his legs bent beneath him, and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious.

"I thought," said Franz to the count, "that you told me there would be but one execution."

"I told you true," replied he coldly.

"And yet here are two culprits."

"Yes; but only one of these two is about to die; the other has many years to live."

"If the pardon is to come, there is no time to lose."

"And see, here it is," said the count. At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia, a priest arrived in some haste, forced his way through the soldiers, and, advancing to the chief of the brotherhood, gave him a folded paper. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. The chief took the paper, unfolded it, and, raising his hand, "Heaven be praised, and his holiness also," said he in a loud voice; "here is a pardon for one of the prisoners!"

"A pardon!" cried the people with one voice--"a pardon!" At this cry Andrea raised his head. "Pardon for whom?" cried he.

Peppino remained breathless. "A pardon for Peppino, called Rocca Priori," said the principal friar. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read and returned it to him.

"For Peppino!" cried Andrea, who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged. "Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together. I was promised he should die with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. I will not die alone--I will not!" And he broke from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast, and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?" asked Franz of the count; for, as all the talk was in the Roman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. "Do you not see?" returned the count, "that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not perish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear him to pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy the life he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man--race of crocodiles," cried the count, extending his clinched hands towards the crowd, "how well do I recognize you there, and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!" Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground, and he kept exclaiming, "He ought to die!--he shall die!--I will not die alone!"

"Look, look," cried the count. seizing the young men's hands--"look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate, who was going to the scaffold to die--like a coward, it is true, but he was about to die without resistance. Do you know what gave him strength?--do you know what consoled him? It was, that another partook of his punishment--that another partook of his anguish--that another was to die before him. Lead two sheep to the butcher's, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, and make one of them understand that his companion will not die; the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow with joy. But man--man, whom God created in his own image--man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment, to love his neighbor--man, to whom God has given a voice to express his thoughts--what is his first cry when he hears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man, this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation!" And the count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadful to witness. The people all took part against Andrea, and twenty thousand voices cried, "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, and held him before the window. "What are you doing?" said he. "Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of 'Mad dog!' you would take your gun--you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast, who, after all, was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. And yet you pity a man who, without being bitten by one of his race, has yet murdered his benefactor; and who, now unable to kill any one, because his hands are bound, wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. No, no--look, look!"

The command was needless. Franz was fascinated by the horribly spectacle. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold, and there, in spite of his struggles, his bites, and his cries, had forced him to his knees. During this time the executioner had raised his mace, and signed to them to get out of the way; the criminal strove to rise, but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. A dull and heavy sound was heard, and the man dropped like an ox on his face, and then turned over on his back. The executioner let fall his mace, drew his knife, and with one stroke opened his throat, and mounting on his stomach, stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank, half fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed, was standing grasping the window-curtains. The count was erect and triumphant, like the Avenging Angel!  

“二位先生，”基督山伯爵一边走进来，一边说道，“请原谅我没有先登们拜访，我怕去得太早，不太合适，而且，你们已传话给我，说你们愿意先来看我，所以我也就恭敬不如从命了。”

“弗兰兹和我对您万分感谢，伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝答道。“我们正在左右为难，大伤脑筋的时候，您给我们解了围，我们接到您那恳切的邀请的时候，正在发明一种异想天开的车子呢。”

“真的！”伯爵一边回答，一边请两个青年就座。“这都是那个糊涂的派里尼不好，以致我不能随时帮助你们解决困难。他没有对我提到你们的窘况，我，我很孤单寂寞，很想找一个机会来认识一下我的邻居。我一听到可以帮助你们一下，我就赶紧抓住这个可以效劳的机会。”

两个青年欠了欠身子。弗兰兹还没有想到该说什么话，他还没有确定该如何行动，从伯爵的态度丝毫看出他愿意承认他们已曾相识过，他不知究竟是提起过去的事情好呢，还是看看情形再定。而且，尽管他确实就是昨天晚上对面包厢里的那个人，但也不能肯定他就是斗兽场的那个人。所以他决定让事情顺其自然发展，而不向伯爵作任何正面的提议。再说，他现在比他占优势，他已经掌握了他的秘密，而他却没有提到弗兰兹什么东西，因为弗兰兹根本没有什么须要掩饰的事情。但是，他决心要把谈话引到一个或许可以弄清他的疑虑的题目上去。

“伯爵阁下，”他说，“您让我们坐您的马车，还让我们分享您在罗斯波丽宫所定的窗口。您能不能告诉我们可以在那儿看一看波波罗广场！”

“啊！”伯爵漠不关心地说道，他的目光紧紧地注视着马尔塞夫，“波波罗广场上不是说好象要处决犯人吗？”

“是的。”弗兰兹答道，觉得伯爵已转到他所希望的话题上来了。

“等一下，我记得昨天曾告诉我的管家，叫他去办这件事的，或许这一点我也可以为你们帮一下忙的。”他伸出手去，拉了三下铃。“您有没有想过，”他对弗兰兹说，“可以用什么方法来简化召唤仆人的手续呢？我倒是有：我拉一次铃，是叫我的跟班，两次，叫旅馆老板，三次，叫我的管家。这样我就可以不必浪费一分钟或一句话。他来啦！”

进来的那个人年约四十五至五十岁，很象那个领弗兰兹进岩洞的走私贩子，但他似乎并不认识他。显然他是受了吩咐的。

“日尔图乔先生，”伯爵说，“昨天我吩咐你去弄一个可以望得到波波罗广场的窗口，你给我办到了没有？”

“是，大人，”管家答道，“但当时已经很晚了。”

“我不是告诉你我想要一个吗？”伯爵面有怒色地说道。

“已经给大人弄到了一个，那本来是租给洛巴尼夫亲王的，但我花了一百”

“那就得了，那就得了，贝尔图乔先生，这种家务琐事别在这两位先生面前唠叨好吧。你已经弄到了窗口，那就够了。告诉车夫，叫他在门口等着，准备送我们去。”管家鞠了一躬，正要离开房间，伯爵又说道，“啊！劳驾你去问问派里尼，问他有没有收到‘祈祷单’，能否给我们拿一张行刑的报单来。”

“不必了，”弗兰兹一边说，一边把他的那张报单拿了出去，“我已经看到了报单，而且已抄下来一份。”

“好极了，你去吧，贝尔图乔先生，早餐准备好了的时候来通知我们一声。这两位先生，”他转向两个朋友说，“哦，我相信，大概可以赏光和我一起用早餐吧？”

“但是，伯爵阁下，”阿尔贝说，“这就太打扰啦。”

“哪里的话，正相反，你们肯赏光我非常高兴。你们之中，总有一位，或许两位都可以在巴黎回请我的。贝尔图乔先生，放三副刀叉。”他从弗兰兹的手里把传单接过来。

“‘公告：’”他用读报纸一样的语气念道，“‘奉宗教审判厅令，二月二十二日星期三，即狂欢节之第一日，死囚二名将于波波罗广场被处以极刑，一名为安德烈·伦陀拉，一名为庇皮诺。即罗卡·庇奥立；前者犯谋害罪，谋杀了德高望众的圣·拉德兰教堂教士西塞·德列尼先生；后者则系恶名昭彰之大盗罗吉·万帕之党羽。’哼！‘第一名处以锤刑，第二名处以斩刑’。”

“是啊，”伯爵继续说道，“本来是预定这样做的，但我想这个节目昨天已经有某种改变了吧。”

“真的！”弗兰兹说道。

“是的昨天晚上我在红衣主教罗斯辟格里奥赛那儿，听人提到说，那两人之中有一个好象已经被缓期执行处决了。”

“是安德烈·伦陀拉吗？”

“不，”伯爵随随便便地说道，“是另外那一个，”他向传单瞟了一眼，象是已记不得那个人的名字了似的，“是庇皮诺，即罗卡·庇奥立。所在你们看不到另一个人上断头台了，但锤刑还是有的，那种刑法你们初次看的时候会觉得非常奇特，甚至第二次看仍不免有这种感觉，至于斩刑，你们一定知道，是很简单的。那断头机是决不会失灵，决不会颤抖，也决不会象杀夏莱伯爵的那个兵那样连砍三十次的。红衣主教黎布留无疑是因为看到夏七伯爵被杀头时的那种惨景，动了恻隐之心，才改良刑法的。啊！”伯爵用一种轻视的口吻继续说道，“别向我谈起欧洲的刑法，以残酷而论，与其说还在婴儿时代，倒不如说，简直已到了暮年啦。”

“真的，伯爵阁下，”弗兰兹答道，“人家会以为您是研究世界各国各种不同刑法的呢。”

“至少可以说，我没见过的不多了。”伯爵冷冷地说道。

“您很高兴看这种可怕的情景吗？”

“我最初觉得恐怖，后来就麻木了，最后就觉得好奇。”

“好奇！这两字太可怕了。”

“为什么？在人的一生中，我们所最担心的就是死。那么，来研究灵魂和肉体分离的各种方法，并根据各人不同的个性，不同的气质，甚至各国不同的风俗，来测定从生到死，从存在到消灭这个转变过程上每一个人所能承受的限度，这难道算是好奇吗？至于我，我可以向你们保证一件事，你愈多看见人死，你死的时候就愈容易。依我看，死或许是一种刑罚，但不就等于赎罪。”

“我不很明白您的意思，”弗兰兹答道，“请把您的意思解释一下，因为您已经把我的好奇心引到了最高点。”

“听着，”伯爵说道，他的脸上流露出深深的仇恨，要是换了别人，这时一定会涨得满脸通红。“要是一个人以闻所未闻，最残酷，最痛苦的方法摧毁了你的父亲，你的母亲，你的爱人，总之，夺去你最心爱的人，在你的胸膛上留下一个永远无法愈合的伤口，而社会所给你的补偿，只是用断头机上的刀在那个凶手的脖子上割一下，让那个使你精神上痛苦了很多年的人只受几秒钟肉体上的罪，你觉得那种补偿够吗？”

“是的，我知道，”弗兰兹说道，“人类的正义是无法使我们得到慰藉的，她只能以血还血，如此而已，但你也只能向她提出要求，而且只能在她力所能及的范围之内要求呀。”

“我再举一个例子给你听，”伯爵继续说道，“社会上，每当一个人受到死亡的攻击时，社会就以死来报复死。但是，难道不是有人受到千百种惨刑，而社会对这些连知道都不知道。甚至连我们刚才所说的那种不是补偿的报复方式都不提供给他吗？有几种罪恶，即使用土耳其人的刺刑，波斯人的钻刑，印第安人的炮烙和火印也嫌惩罚得不够的，而社会却不闻不见，丝毫未加以处罚吗？请回答我，这些罪恶难道存在吗？”

“是的，“弗兰兹答道，“而正是为了惩罚这种罪恶，社会上才容许人们决斗。”

“啊，决斗！”伯爵大声说道，“凭良心说，当你的目的是报复时，用这种方法来达到人的目的未免太轻松啦！一个人抢去了你的爱人，一个人奸淫了你的妻子，一个人玷污了你的女儿，你本来有权利可以向上天要求幸福的，因为上帝创造了人，允许人人都能得到幸福，而他却破坏了你的一生，使你终生痛苦蒙羞。他使你的头脑疯狂，让你的心里绝望，而你，只因为你已经把一颗子弹射进了人的脑袋，或用一把剑刺穿了他的胸膛，就自以为已经报了仇了，却想不到，决斗之后，胜利者却往往是他，因为在全世界人的眼里，他已是清白的了，在上帝眼里，已是抵罪了！不，不，”伯爵继续说道，“要是我为自己复仇，就不会这样去报复。”

“那么您是不赞成决斗的罗，您无论如何也不和人决斗吗？”这次轮到阿尔贝发问了，他对于这种奇怪的理论很是惊讶。

“噢，要决斗的！”伯爵答道，“请了解我，我会为一件小事而决斗，譬如说，为了一次侮辱，为了一记耳光，而且很愿意决斗，因为，凭我在各种体格训练上所获得的技巧和我逐渐养成的漠视危险的习惯，我敢肯定一定可以杀死我的对手。噢，为了这些原因我会决斗的。但要报复一种迟缓的，深切的，永久的痛苦，假如可能的话，我却要以同样的痛苦来回报，以血还血，以牙还牙，如东方人所说的那样，东方人在各方面都是我们的大师。那些得天独厚的人在梦中过活，因此倒给他们自己造成了一个现实的乐园。”

“但是，”弗兰兹对伯爵说道，“抱着这种理论，则等于你自己既是原告，同时又是法官和刽子手，这是很难实行的，因为你得时刻提防落到法律的手里。仇恨是盲目的，愤怒会使你失去理智，凡是倾泄复仇的苦酒的人，他自己也冒着危险，或许会尝到一种更苦的滋味。”

“是的，假如他既没有钱又没有经验是会这样的，但假如他有钱又有技巧，则就不然了。而且，即使他受到惩罚，最坏也不过是我们已经说过的那一种罢了，而博爱的法国大革命又代替了五马分尸或车轮辗死。只要他已报了仇，这种刑罚又算得了什么呢？这个可怜的庇皮诺多半是不会被杀头的了，老实说，我倒有点觉得可惜，不然你们倒有一个机会可以看看这种刑罚所产生的痛苦是多么短促，究竟是否值得一提，哦，真的，在狂欢节该这样的事不免太奇怪了，二位，先生，我们是怎么谈起来的？啊，我记起来了！你们要在我的窗口弄一个位置。可以的，但我们还是先去入席吧，因为仆人已经来通知我们去用早餐啦。”在他说话的时候，一个仆人打开了客厅四座门中的一扇，说道，“酒筵齐备！”两个青年站了起来，走进了早餐厅。

早餐极其丰盛，在用餐的时候，弗兰兹屡次察看阿尔贝，以观察他们东道主的那一篇话在阿尔贝身上所产生的影响，但不知是由于他那种一向万事不介意的习性使他没有注意到他呢，还是伯爵关于决斗的那一番解释使他很满意，还是因为弗兰兹知道了过去的几件事，所以对伯爵的理论特别感到惊惧，他发现他的同伴脸上毫无忧虑的表情，而是大吃特吃，象是四五个月以来除了意大利菜，即世界是最坏的菜以外，不曾吃过别的什么东西似的。至于伯爵，他对于各种菜只是碰一碰而已，他似乎只在尽一个东道主的义务，陪他的客人坐坐，等他们走后，再来吃某种稀珍而更美味的食物。这使弗兰兹不由自主地想到了伯爵在Ｇ伯爵夫人身上所引起的恐怖和她那坚决的态度，以为她对面包厢里的那个男人是个僵尸。早餐完毕时，弗兰兹掏出表来看了一眼。

“哦，”伯爵说道，“你们还有什么事吗？”

“请您务必原谅我们，伯爵阁下，”弗兰兹答道，“我们还有很多事要办呢。”

“是些什么事呢？”

“我们还没有化装的衣服，那是一定要去弄到的。”

“那件事你们不必担心。我想我在波波罗广场大概能有一间私室。你们不论选中了什么服装，我都可以叫人送去，你们可以到那儿去换装。”

“在行刑以后吗？”弗兰兹问道。

“以前或以后，尽可悉听尊便。”

“就在断头台对面？”

“断头台是狂欢节必不可少的一部分。”

“伯爵阁下，那件事刚才我又想了一想。”弗兰兹说道，“我很感谢您的热情招待，但我只要在您的马车里和您在罗斯波丽宫的窗口占一个位置就满足了，至于波波罗广场的那个位置，请您只管另作支配吧。”

“但我得先提醒您，那样您将失去一次千载难逢的观看奇景的机会的。”伯爵答道。

“您以后讲给我听好了。”弗兰兹回答说，“事情由您的嘴里讲出来，给人的印象比我亲眼目睹的会深刻。我好几次都想去亲眼看一看杀人，但我总是下不了这个决心，你是不是也这样，阿尔贝？”

“我，”伯爵答道，“我看过杀卡斯泰，但我好象记得那天我已喝醉了酒，因为我是在那天早晨离开了学校，从酒店里闹了一个通宵出来的。”

“一件事不能因为您在巴黎没做过，到国外来也就不做，这不算是理由。一个人出来旅行，是样样都得看一看的。将来有人问您：‘罗马杀人是怎么杀法呀？’而您回答说：‘我不知道。’那时您多难堪。据说，那个犯人是一个无耻的流氓，一个教士原是把他当作亲生儿子一般抚养长大的，而他竟用一块大木柴打死那位可敬的教士。真该死！杀教堂里的人，应该用另外一种武器，不应用木柴，尤其是假如他是一个慈爱和蔼的教士。哎，要是您到了西班牙，您能不去看斗牛吗？就算我们现在去看的是一场斗牛好了。请想想古代竞技场上的罗马人，他们在竞技场上杀死三百只狮子和一百个人呢。你想想那八万个热烈喝采的观众们吧，贤惠的主妇带着她们的女儿同来，那些妖娆动人的姑娘们，用她雪白的手翘起大拇指，象是在对狮子说：‘来吧，别呆着呀！来给我杀死那个人吧，他已经吓得半死啦。’”

“那么，你去不去，阿尔贝？”

“当然啦！是的。我也和你一样，本来有点犹豫，但伯爵的雄辩使我下了决心！”

“既然你高兴，那么我们走吧，”弗兰兹说道，“但我们到波波罗广场去的时候，我想经过高碌街。这样做行不行，伯爵阁下？”

“步行去，可以，坐车去，不行！”

“那么，我愿意步行去！”

“您有很重要的事一定要经过那条街吗？”

“是的，我想在那儿看一样东西。”

“好吧，我们从高碌街走吧。我们可以叫马车在波波罗场靠巴布诺街口的地方等着我们，因为我也很高兴能经过高碌街，我想去看看我所吩咐的一件事情办妥了没有。”

“大人。“一个仆人开门进来说道，“有一个穿苦修士衣服的人想和您说话。”

“啊，是的！”伯爵答道，“我知道他是谁。二位，请你们回到客厅里去坐一会儿好吗？你们可以在中央那张桌子上找到上等的哈瓦那雪茄。我马上就来奉陪。”

两个青年站起身来，回到了客厅里，伯爵又向他们道了一声歉，就从另外一扇门出去了。阿尔贝是一个大烟鬼，他以为这次出国，再也抽不到巴黎咖啡馆里的雪茄了，这可是一个不小的损失，当他走近桌子，看到几支真正的蒲鲁斯雪茄时，就高兴得大喊了一声。

“噢，”弗兰兹问道，“你觉得基督山伯爵这个人怎么样？”

“我觉得怎么样？”阿尔贝说道，他显然很惊奇他的同伴会提出这样一个问题。“我觉得他是一个很有趣的人，他吃东西很讲究，他到过很多地方，读过很多书，而且，象布鲁特斯一样，也是一个坚忍主义者；再说，”他向天花板吐出一大股烟，然后才说，“他还有上等的雪茄。”

阿尔贝对伯爵的看法仅此而已，弗兰兹却知道得很清楚，阿尔贝一向自认非经过长期的考虑是不发表任何意见的，所以他也就不想去改变它了。”但是，”他说，“你有没有注意到一件非常奇怪的事？”

“什么事？”

“他盯着你看。”

“看我？”

“是的。阿尔贝想了一想。“唉！”他叹了一气答道，“那算不上十分稀奇。我离开巴黎已有一年多了，我的衣服式样已经很旧了，伯爵大概把我看成一个乡下人。我求求你，你一有机会就向他解释一下，告诉他我不是那种人。”

弗兰兹笑了一下，一会儿，伯爵进来了。“二位，我现在可以悉听吩咐了，”他说了，“马车已到波波罗广场去了，我们可以从另一条路走，假如你们高兴的话，就走高碌街。带几支雪茄去，马尔塞夫先生。”

“非常的赞成，”阿尔贝答道，“意大利的雪茄太可怕了。您到巴黎来的时候，我可以回敬您这种雪茄。”

“我不会拒绝的。我准备不久就要到那儿去，既然蒙您允许，我一定来拜访您。走吧，我们不能再浪费时间啦，已经十二点半了，我们出发吧！”

三个人一同下了楼，车夫已得到主人的吩咐，驱车到巴布诺街去了，三位先生就经弗拉铁那街向爱斯巴广场走去，这样，他们就可以从菲亚诺宫和罗勘斯丽宫之间经过。弗兰兹的全部注意力都集中到罗斯波丽宫的窗口上去了，因为他没有忘记那个穿披风的人和那个勒司斐人所约定的暗号。

“哪几个窗口是您的？”他问伯爵，语气极力装出无所谓的样子。

“最后那三个。”伯爵漫不经心地回答着，但他的态度显然并非是装出来的，因为他决想不到这句问话的含意。弗兰兹很快地向那三个窗口瞟了一眼，旁边两个窗口挂着黄缎窗帘，中间那个是白缎的，上面有一个红十字。那个穿披风的人的确实践了他对勒司斐人的许诺，而现在毫无疑义，可以确定他是伯爵了。那三个窗口里还没有人。四面八方都在匆忙地准备着，椅子都已排好了，断头台已架起来了，窗口上都挂着旗子，钟声不响，面具还不能出现，马车也不能出动，但在各个窗口里，已可以看到面具在那里晃动，而马车都在大门后面等着了。

弗兰兹，阿尔贝和伯爵继续顺着高碌街走着。当他们接近波波罗广场的时候，人群愈来愈密了，在万头攒动的上空，可以看到两样东西，即方身尖顶的石塔，塔顶上有一个十字架，标明这是广场的中心和耸立在石塔前面，耸立在巴布诺街，高索街，立庇得街三条路的交叉口上的断头台的那两根直柱，在这两根直柱之间，悬挂着一把闪闪发光的弯刀。他们在街角上遇到了伯爵的管家，管家原来在那儿等候他的主人。伯爵花了很高的价钱租得的那个窗口是在那座大宫殿的三楼上，位于巴布诺街和平西奥山之间。我们已经说过，这原是一间小小的更衣室，从更衣室进去还有一间寝室，只要通外面的那扇门一关，房间里的人便可以与外界隔绝。椅子上已放着高雅的小丑服装，是用蓝白色的绸缎做的。

“你们既然让我为你们挑选服装，”伯爵对二位朋友说，“我就拿了这几套来，因为今年穿这种服装的最多，而且也最合用，逢到人家向你们撒纸花，也不会沾在身上。”

伯爵的这一篇话弗兰兹没有全都听进去，他或许并不完全理解伯爵的一番好意，他的注意力已全部被波波罗广场上的情景所吸引住了。在目前，广场上主要的点缀品就是那可怕的杀人工具。弗兰兹生平还是第一次看到一架断头机，我们说断头机，因为罗马的这种杀人工具式样简直和法国的完全相同。那把刀是新月形的，刀口向外凸出，刀上的坠子份量较轻，全部差别只在于此。有两个人坐在那块搁犯人的活动木板上，正在那儿一边用早餐，一边等候犯人。其中的一个掀起那块木板，从木板下面拿出了一瓶酒，喝了几口，然后递给他的同伴。

这两个人是刽子手的助手，一看到这种情形，弗兰兹觉得他的额头上已在开始冒冷汗了。

犯人已在前一天傍晚从诺伏监狱移禁到了波波罗广场口的圣·玛丽亚小教堂里，就在那儿过夜，每一名犯人有两位教士作伴。他们给关在一间有铁栅门的礼拜堂里，门前有两个轮流换班的哨兵。教堂门口，每边都有一列双排的宪兵，从门口直排到断头台前，并在断头机周围成了一个圆圈，留出一条约莫十尺宽的通道，在断头机周围，则留下一片将近一百尺的空地。其余一切地方都被男男女女的头填满了。许多女人把她们的小孩子扛在她们的肩头上，所以孩子们看得最清楚。平西奥山象是一家挤满了看客的露天大戏院。巴布诺街和立庇得街拐角上的两座教堂的阳台上也挤得满满的。台阶上象是一股杂色斑驳的海流，向门廊下拼命的挤，墙上每一年凹进去的地方都拱着活的雕像。伯爵说得不错，人生最动人的奇观就是死。

可是，虽然这一幕庄严的情景似乎应该令人肃静无哗，但人群里反而浮起一片很大的闹声，那是一片笑和欢呼所组成的闹声，显然在人们的眼里，这次杀人只是狂欢节的开幕典礼。突然间，象是中了魔似的，骚动停止了，教堂的门开了。最先出现的，是一小队苦修士，其中有一个领头走在前边；他们从头到脚都裹在一件灰色粗布的长袍里，只在眼睛的地方有两个洞，他们的手里都拿着点燃了的小蜡烛，在苦修士的后面，走着一个身材高大的人。他浑身赤裸，只穿着一条布短裤，左腰上佩着一把插在鞘里的牛耳尖刀，右肩上扛着一把笨重的长锤。这个人就是刽子手。他的脚上还绑着一双草鞋。在刽子手的后面，根据处死的先后顺序，先出来的是庇皮诺，然后才是安德烈，每一个都由两位教士陪伴着。他们两个人的眼睛都没有被蒙着。庇皮诺走的步子很坚定，无疑他已明白会发生什么事，而安德则由两位教士扶着走。他们都时不时地去吻一个忏悔师送上来的十字架。单单看到这一幕情景，弗兰兹就觉得他的那两条腿已在发抖了。他望了望阿尔贝；阿尔贝的脸色白得象他的衬衫一样了，他机械地丢掉了他的雪茄，虽然那支雪茄还没抽到一半。只有伯爵似乎无动于衷，不，他激动得很，一层浅红色似乎正在拼命地从他那苍白的面颊上透出来。

他的鼻孔张得大大的，象是一只野兽嗅到了它的牺牲品似的。

他的嘴巴半张着，露出了他那雪白的，又细又尖，象狼一样的牙齿。可是，他的脸却露出了一种温柔的微笑。这种表情弗兰兹以前是从未在他的脸上看到过的，他那一对黑眼睛充满慈悲和怜悯。两个犯人继续向前走着，当他们走近的时候，他们的脸可以看得一清二楚了。庇皮诺是一个英俊的年青人，约二十四五岁，皮肤被太阳晒成了棕褐色。他昂着头，似乎在嗅空气，以确定他的解救者会从哪边出现。安德烈是一个矮胖子，他的脸上布满着残忍刻毒的皱纹，但那些皱纹和他的年轻并无关系，他大概在三十岁左右，他的胡子在狱中长得长长的，他的头垂在肩上，他的两腿发软，他似乎在做着一种不自觉的机械的动作。

“我记得，”弗兰兹对伯爵说道，“您告诉我说只杀一个人的吧。”

“我对您讲的是实话。”伯爵冷冷地答道。

“但是，这儿有两个犯人呀。“是的，但这两之中，要死的却只有一个，另外那一个还有很多年活呢。”

“假如赦罪令要来，可不能再迟了呀。“看那不是来了！”伯爵说道。

正当庇皮诺到达断头台脚下的时候，一个苦修士，他象是苦修士队中迟到的一个，拼命挤开士兵，走到领头的那个苦修士前面，交给他一张折拢的纸，庇皮诺的锐利的目光已把这一切都看到了，领头的那个苦修士接过这张纸，打开来，于是他举起了一只手，“赞美上帝！”他大声说道，“有令赦犯人一名！”

“赦罪令！”人们同声喊道，“赦罪令！”

听到这种喊声，安德烈把头抬了起来。“赦谁！”他喊道。庇皮诺仍旧屏息静气地等着。

“赦庇皮诺，即罗卡·庇奥立。”那个领头的苦修士说道，于是他把那张纸交给了宪兵的长官，那军官读完以后交还给了他。

“赦庇皮诺！”安德烈喊道，他似乎已从先前的麻痹状态中醒了过来了。“为什么赦他不赦我？我们应该一同死的。你们讲定了他和我一起死的呀。你们没有权利单单要我一个人死。我不愿意一个人死！我不愿意！”于是他挣脱开了那两个教士，象一头野兽似地挣扎着咆哮着，拼命想扭断那条绑住他双手的绳子。刽子手做了一个手势，于是他的助手从断头台上跳下来捉住了他。

“他怎么了？”弗兰兹问伯爵，因为那些话都是罗马语说，所以他听不太懂。

“您没看见吗？”伯爵答道。“这个人快要死了，他之所以发狂，是因为他的难友没有和他同归于尽，要是可能的话，他会用他的牙齿和指甲把他撕得粉碎，也决不肯让他去享有他自己快要被剥夺的生命的。噢，人呀，人呀！鳄鱼的子孙呀！”伯爵把他紧握成拳头的双手伸向人群，大声说道，“我早就认识你们了。你们在任何时候都是自作自受呀！”

在这说话期间，安德烈一直在地上和那两个刽子手滚作了一团，他还是在那儿大喊：“他应该死的！我要他死！我不愿意一个人死！”

“看，看哪！”伯爵抓住那两个年青人的手大声说道，“看吧，凭良心说，真奇怪，这个人本来已向他的命运低头了，他就要上断头台了，象个丑夫一样，这是真的，他是准备服服帖帖地去死的。你们知道他为什么会那样，是什么安慰了他吗？那是因为另外还有一个人要和他一同处死；一同分享他的痛苦；而且比他先死！牵两只羊到屠夫那儿，牵两条牛进屠宰场，使两只里的一只懂得它的同伴可以不死，羊会欢喜地咩叫，牛会高兴得乱吼。但人，上帝照他自己的形状创造出来的人，上帝给他的每条最重要的诫条就是叫他爱他的邻居，上帝给他声音以表达他的思想，所以当他听到他的同类人得救的时候，他的第一声喊叫是什么！是一声谩骂！够光荣的了吧，人呀，你这自然的杰作，你这万物之灵！”于是伯爵爆发出一声大笑，但那种笑是令人可怕的，显示出他的内心一定受过非常痛苦的煎熬。

这时，搏斗依旧在继续着，看了真可怕。人们都反对安德烈，两万个声音都在喊，“杀死他！杀死他！”弗兰兹吓得直向后跳，但伯爵抓住他的手臂，拉他站在窗前。“您怎么啦？”他说，“难道您可怜他吗？假如您听到有人喊‘疯狗！’您就会抓起枪来，毫不犹豫地打死那可怜的畜生，但它的罪过，却只是咬了另一条狗而已。而这个人，人家没去咬他，他反而谋杀了他的恩人，现在他的手被绑住了，不能再杀人了，可是他还希望囚伴和他同归于尽，这样的一个人，您还可怜他！不，不，看，看哪！”

这种介绍实在是不必要的。弗兰兹早已全神贯注地在望这一场可怕的情景了。那两个助手已把安德烈拖到了断头台上，不管怎么挣扎，怎么咬，怎么喊，已经按着他跪了下来。这时，刽子手已在他的旁边站稳了步子，举起那把长锤，示意叫两助手走开。那犯人想挣扎着起来，但还不等他站起来，那把锤已打到了他的左面太阳穴上，随着一下重浊的声音，那个人象一条牛似的面朝下倒了下去，接着又一个翻身仰面躺在了台上，刽子手摔开锤，抽出刀，一刀割开了他的喉咙，又跳到他的肚皮上，猛力用脚踏，每一踏，伤口里便喷出来一股鲜血。

弗兰兹再也受不了了，昏昏沉沉地倒在了一张椅子里。阿尔贝则闭着眼睛，紧紧地抓住窗帘站着。只有伯爵笔挺地站着，面露胜利的神色，象是复仇的天使。