THE EDITORIAL ROOMS
"Well, my dear Chateau-Renaud, is there anything new?" asked Beauchamp
of his friend, who had paid him a visit to his office.
"Bah--not much! It's the same old story in the Orient, and outside of
that place nothing ever happens in the world."
"Nothing? What will you give me if I tell you something which will
interest you, my dear Chateau-Renaud?"
"That depends. Who is the party?"
"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf."
"That is worth listening to: how is the poor fellow getting along?"
"Oh, splendidly! He distinguishes himself in every battle, and will one
day become a famous general."
"I hope so. Do you still recollect the hard times poor Morcerf had when
the first article from Yanina appeared in your paper?"
"I do. I went myself on the strength of it to Yanina, and the news I
brought from there was perfectly crushing from our old friend."
"And Count Monte-Cristo has disappeared?"
"For the present, yes. Though I am sure that sooner or later he will
show up again."
At this moment a loud uproar was heard near the door, and as Beauchamp
opened it, a young man was seen who was struggling with the office boy
to gain admission.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Beauchamp, in a tone of surprise,
as he opened the door.
"Ah, Beauchamp!" exclaimed the stranger, "I knew you would admit me."
"At present I have not the honor of your acquaintance," replied
Beauchamp, bowing.
"Permit me to refresh your memory; I am the man who called you into the
court-room during the Benedetto trial. You were at the refreshment
counter, and--"
"Ah, now I remember," said Beauchamp, in a friendly tone. "What can I do
for you?"
"Pardon me, Monsieur Beauchamp, but I think I can do you a service."
"Then come into my office, Monsieur--what is your name now?"
"Gratillet, Monsieur Beauchamp," said the young man, following him into
the office. After he had taken a chair proffered him he laughed to
himself and in a tone of importance said:
"If I am not mistaken, you interest yourself for Benedetto?"
"A little, Monsieur Gratillet."
"When you have heard my report, you will do so more. I took good notice
of Benedetto and have come to the conclusion that he has been picked out
to do great things!"
"Really? Is he going to become a minister, or perhaps a king?"
"Laugh away; he will not die in the galleys."
"Then, perhaps, on the gallows; that is sometimes the end of a career
like his."
"No, Benedetto is more ambitious than that. I will only give you the
facts and tell you what I heard yesterday. Last night Benedetto received
a visit in prison."
"A visit?"
"Just as I tell you. A veiled lady visited him and remained an hour with
him. Her face I could not recognize."
"Have you got wings with which to pursue Benedetto?"
"No, Monsieur Beauchamp. At the end of the proceedings I took a carriage
and arrived at the prison only a quarter of an hour after Benedetto."
"I call that promptness. You saw the lady then?"
"Yes; I did not recognize her perfectly, but imagine she is the wife of
a banker who left for parts unknown about three months ago."
Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud looked knowingly at one another, while
Gratillet continued:
"The lady in question left the prison at ten o'clock and got into her
carriage."
"A carriage?"
"No, a hackney coach she had hired."
"And you followed her again?"
"This time the matter was much easier; I got upon the box with the
driver and arrived at her destination as soon as the occupant herself.
The carriage drove to No. 8 Rue Contrescarpe. I looked closely at the
house and read a sign near the door with the following card: 'Monsieur
Magloire, taxidermist.' The lady got out and rang the bell, but to no
purpose. Becoming bolder she knocked at the door. A sliding window was
opened and a gruff voice asked:
"'Well, what do you want?'
"'I have a letter to deliver,' said the lady softly.
"'From whom?'
"I could not make out what she said. A hand was put through the opening
and took the letter, whereupon the sliding window was again closed. The
lady waited a while longer and then rode off."
"Did you follow her?"
"Oh, no, why should I have done that? I am interested in Benedetto, and
the lady is only a side character. First of all, Monsieur Beauchamp, do
you think the story suitable for your paper?"
"Hm! that could be talked over. In the meantime take a cigar."
"Thanks. Have you ever seen the departure of the galley-slaves from
Bicetre?"
"No, but I imagine it must be a curious sight."
"It is. This morning I was in Bicetre to see Benedetto depart, and I
must confess I almost pitied him. The handsome Andrea Cavalcanti was
undressed and his clothes cut in the usual way."
"Why do they do that?" asked Chateau-Renaud.
"To prevent the flight of a convict. Whoever sees these cut clothes
knows they belong to a galley-slave. The other prisoners said nothing
while the operation was being performed; Benedetto, however, cried out
aloud when the jailer cut his elegant coat, and when the rattle of the
chains was heard in another room he gritted his teeth and cast such a
look around him that I instinctively shuddered."
"Were you present during the chaining of the convicts, Monsieur
Gratillet?"
"Certainly; I never do things by halves. The prisoners were brought into
the courtyard and placed in rows of two each, who were tied to each
other by a chain six feet long."
"Are you nearly finished with your story, Monsieur Gratillet?" said
Beauchamp, thoughtfully.
"Directly. Just as the door opened through which the convicts have to
pass to leave the courtyard, I noticed among the crowd assembled to see
them off a small humpbacked man. On his crooked shoulders a monkey
balanced, a poodle in uniform sat on its hind legs beside him, in his
right hand he held a bird-cage, and along his left arm a large rat
promenaded up and down. The rat had a wonderfully pointed nose and long
tail. It ran up and down the whole time, looking in every direction with
its sharp eyes. The prisoners, the jailers and spectators laughed at its
antics. The hunchback drew nearer, and, as it seemed to me, looked at
Benedetto. The latter, however, did not notice him, and now I perceived
I had made a mistake, and that the gaze of the ratcatcher was directed
to Benedetto's comrade in chains."
"Did you know this comrade in chains?" asked Beauchamp, hurriedly.
"Yes; it was a former priest named Anselmo, if you have ever heard
anything of him."
"Certainly. The priest was a disgrace to the cloth," said Beauchamp.
"So he is Benedetto's companion. A worthy pair."
"I thought so, too," continued Gratillet, laughing. "Suddenly the rat
sprang from the arm of its master on to that of the ex-priest, and
rubbing its pointed nose on his sleeve it fawned about him.
"'Oh, what a beautiful animal!' exclaimed Anselmo; 'present it to me.'
"'I would be a fool,' replied the hunchback, gruffly. 'I sell my
animals, but I never give them away.'
"'But I have no money.'
"'You have a nice ring on your finger, give it to me and you can have my
rat.'
"Now I am ready to swear to it," said Gratillet, solemnly, "that Anselmo
had no ring on his finger before, whereas he had one now. He looked at
the jailer and said: 'In case it is allowed, I should like to exchange
my ring for the rat.'
"The jailer made no objection to this. The hunchback claimed that his
rat was a wonderful animal, and he would show the tricks it could do.
The rat sprang through little paper balloons, nodded and shook its head,
just as it was asked, and finally crawled up Anselmo's sleeve. The
prisoners were enthusiastic in their praises. Anselmo and the hunchback
whispered softly together; finally, the jailer put a stop to the thing
by shutting the gate and driving the prisoners back.
"'One word more,' exclaimed Anselmo, 'I do not know the name of my rat!'
"'The animal is called "Rat King,"' said the hunchback, putting his head
once more through the door.
"I followed the hunchback; when he turned down a narrow street I cried
to him: 'Au revoir, Monsieur Magloire,' and the look he gave me told me
I had guessed right."
"You believe then--" said Chateau-Renaud.
"That the letter which the lady delivered in the Rue Contrescarpe was
written by Anselmo and given to the lady through Benedetto, the letter
inclosed the order for the rat, and everything went smoothly. The final
act in the drama will not permit itself to be long waited for."
"As soon as we are ready," said Beauchamp, "Monsieur Gratillet can write
it up for our paper. Can I count you, Monsieur Gratillet, from to-day on
as one of my staff?"
"I desire no greater honor," replied Gratillet, his face beaming with
joy.