THE RAT-KING
The days at the Bagnio passed monotonously. The rat furnished the
evening's amusement, and in the same degree as Benedetto was excited,
Anselmo remained calm and cool. On the evening of the 24th of February,
the young man's patience was exhausted, and he forgot himself so much as
to call Anselmo a liar and traitor, even threatening him with death.
"Come, come," said Anselmo indifferently, "don't be so violent. Instead
of exciting yourself you had better be calm and tell me what relation it
has with the million."
"That means," hissed Benedetto, "I should tell you my secret."
"You are a fool," said Anselmo, laughing; "remember that you can never
get the million without my aid, and therefore leave off your sulks and
speak."
"You are always right," growled Benedetto. "You have my fate in your
hands and I must speak. The million, of course, must first be earned--"
"I am not so foolish as to imagine that the million will fly into my
mouth like a broiled pigeon," interrupted Anselmo; "but first of all, I
must know if you have some right to this million?"
"Certainly," replied Benedetto; "if the million should slip from my
grasp, I should look upon myself as being robbed."
"Really--who is the thief?"
"A woman!"
"I thought so; the lady no doubt who took charge of the letter?"
"The same."
"And you must be set free punctually on the 24th?"
"Yes, on the 25th the money would be irredeemably lost."
"H'm! that would be fatal. Well, I shall arrange it."
"You arrange it? Are you ever going to tell me how you intend to set us
free?"
Anselmo peered cautiously about. The jailers were sleeping in the
corners, and the other prisoners, as it was Sunday, were amusing
themselves with the rat, which ran from board to board, performing the
most difficult tricks.
"I will call our savior at once," whispered Anselmo, and, whistling
softly, he called the little rat-king to him.
The rat immediately came to its master and climbed upon his knee.
Anselmo took the animal in his hand, put it on its back, and took from
under its thick, hairy skin a small, thin instrument called in
galley-slave slang "cow's tail."
Benedetto uttered a cry of astonishment. Anselmo waved before his
comrade's eyes a narrow little tooth-saw.
"Do you believe in my promise now?" the ex-priest triumphantly
exclaimed: "the jailers call our little animal 'rat!' I call him
'necessary.'"
Benedetto laughed aloud. Anselmo placed the instrument back in its place
and the little rat-king sprang away, while Benedetto looked at him deaf
and dumb with astonishment.
"I am convinced now," he finally said, breathing deeply, "and now you
shall hear how the million is to be got. A lady will come here on the
24th--"
"Are you sure of it?"
"Positive. On the 25th this woman will draw one million to give to
others."
"You are joking--she intends to give away a million?"
"Yes, and we two will prevent her," said Benedetto, firmly.
"And who is to get the million?"
"The Church, of course; you understand, now, that I must be free on the
24th, so as to be able to follow the lady and take the million from
her."
"Yes, I understand. Who is the woman?"
Benedetto shrugged his shoulders.
"Do not bother yourself about that, that is my affair." He answered
indifferently.
"Is it a former girl of yours?"
"No."
"A relative?"
"No."
"Good. Keep your secret. Tell me one thing more. Will it be a stabbing
case?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't make yourself so green. From what I know of the world, this
woman, who intends to give the money to the Church, will not offer it to
you. You will take it from her, and if she resists--" He finished the
sentence with a suggestive gesture.
Benedetto became pale as death. He bit his lips and in a hollow voice
replied:
"What is necessary will occur."
"Good. I am pleased with you; but look--there comes a lady on our
pontoon. Perhaps that is your millionnairess."
Benedetto looked in the direction indicated. A lady, leaning on the arm
of a gentleman and accompanied by several high officials, was coming
toward him.
The Corsican gave vent to an oath and made a movement as if he intended
to throw himself upon the party. "Redhead," said the jailer, letting his
heavy stick fall on Benedetto's shoulders, "you are trying to fly away?"
Benedetto gritted his teeth. He had recognized Valentine, and as she was
a Villefort, and occupied the place he thought ought to have been his
own, he would have liked to have wrung her neck. He recognized Morrel,
whom he had seen in Monte-Cristo's house at Auteuil, and he, too, made
his anger rise. He thought they had both come to gloat over his shame.
The head officer whispered a few words to the jailer, and immediately
afterward Benedetto and Anselmo were ushered into the presence of the
visitors.
"They take me along too because they can't help it," said Anselmo
wickedly, pointing to the chain which bound them.
The jailer nodded, and the ex-priest whispered in Benedetto's ear:
"Commit no follies. You look as if you would like to poison every one."
"That is what I should like to do. But have no fear, I will be
circumspect."
"Which one of you is named Benedetto?" asked the inspector, gruffly,
turning to the convicts.
"I," said the former Prince Cavalcanti, modestly.
"You are wanted. Follow me, but do not speak a word or else you will be
put in the black hole."
Benedetto bowed silently, and the next minute stood with his comrade
before Valentine.
The young girl drew back in terror, as she saw him whom she had thought
was her brother. She soon collected herself and gently said:
"Sir, Monsieur de Villefort is dead."
Benedetto's eyes shone. He felt a wild joy at the death of the man he so
bitterly hated.
"On his death-bed," continued Valentine with emotion, "he thought of
you, and the officials have carried out his last wishes, and allowed me
to bring you his regards and certain ameliorations for you. From this
day on you are freed from double chains, and if you conduct yourself
well in the future, you can hope for other mercies. Farewell, and may
God be with you."
Valentine's voice broke, Maximilian laid his arm protectingly around the
young girl and led her away, while Benedetto and Anselmo were brought
back to their comrades.
"Who is the lady?" asked Anselmo. "She is very handsome."
Benedetto remained silent and the ex-priest looked distrustfully at
him.
Toward evening the blacksmith came, and Benedetto was freed from
Anselmo.
"Keep up your spirits," said the jailer to the ex-priest, "and I will
see what can be done for you. In a few days a new column will arrive,
and if you conduct yourself properly, I will see that you get no new
comrade."
"I will let my little rat-king intercede for me," said Anselmo,
laughing, and the jailer nodded.
The 24th of February dawned, and Benedetto, who had not closed an eye
during the night, looked so miserable in the morning that Anselmo became
frightened.
"Come, now, you are frightened, perhaps?" he maliciously asked. The look
he received from his comrade made him pause.
The prisoners went as usual to work, and gradually Benedetto calmed
down. The night was to bring the decision, and if Anselmo lied he would
make him pay dearly for it.
During this time a carriage with four horses rode from Aubagne to
Beaussuet. At the inn of the latter place it stopped, and while the
guard put fresh horses in the traces, the occupant of the coach, a
heavily veiled woman, got out and asked of the postmaster who advanced
how far it was to the nearest vicarage.
"About fifty steps from the inn," he said.
"Then please let some one come along with me to show me the way," begged
the lady.
"Directly, madame. Jean, lead this lady to the vicarage."
"Yes, Monsieur Etienne," was the servant's reply, "but the priest is
not at home."
"What?" said the lady, astonished. "Where is he, then?"
"I do not know. He rode past me this morning. Perhaps the housekeeper
can tell us," added the servant.
"Good. Let us go there," said the lady, and before the end of five
minutes they were at the vicarage.
The door was opened by an elderly woman. She made a courtesy when she
saw the lady, and politely said: "Ah, madame--you are here."
"Were you expecting me?" asked the lady, astonished.
"Certainly; his reverence was unfortunately obliged to go on a journey,
but there is a letter here for Madame Danglars, if you are the lady."
"I am Madame Danglars," said the lady, quickly.
The old woman handed her a letter, and invited her to make herself at
home. Upon which she left.
As soon as the lady found herself alone, she hastily tore open the
letter. It contained a sealed packet, and these lines:
"MADAME--I am, unfortunately, not able to receive you personally. A
journey obliges me to be disrespectful. Nevertheless I hope to see
you to-morrow, and beg you to make yourself comfortable in my
house. All your conditions have been fulfilled. I inclose a note
addressed to the port inspector at Toulon and hope everything will
turn out as you desire.
"JEAN BALAIS, Curate of Beaussuet."
The lady put the letter and the note in her pocket, and as the old lady
entered with a cup of steaming bouillon, she hesitatingly said:
"Did the priest tell you I was going to stay here over night?"
"Yes, madame! Your room is ready, and I hope you will sleep soundly,"
replied the woman, cordially.
"The house is safe?" asked Madame Danglars, looking anxiously about.
"Certainly, madame; we are hid here as if in Abraham's bosom."
The lady drank the bouillon, and then said:
"Will you please show me my room?"
"Yes, madame! I hope it will please you," replied the woman, as she
walked up the stairs, followed by the lady.
Here she opened a door, and the stranger looked in and saw a large,
plainly furnished room. At one side stood a snow-white bed, a washstand,
some chairs, and an old-fashioned bureau.
"Does this closet lock?" asked Madame Danglars, examining the lock. "I
have a jewel-case in the coach which I would like to bring to a place of
security."
"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box," the old lady assured her.
The lady nodded her pleasure at this, and, after she had convinced
herself that the door of the room was in order, she went back to the
coach, took a portfolio from the jewel-casket, and brought it to the
vicarage. The old lady awaited her at the door; Madame Danglars walked
past her and went to the upper story, opened the closet, put the box in
it, closed the door carefully, and put both keys in her pocket. She
then went downstairs again, and, turning to the old woman, said:
"For the present, good-by; I shall probably be back again before night."
"Good-by, madame; but do not stay out too late. A storm is coming up,
and the roads of Oliolles are dangerous at night."
"I will try to be back soon. Adieu."
Madame Danglars got into her carriage and drove off in the direction of
Toulon.
The feelings of the poor woman, who was going to the Bagnio to see
Benedetto as she had promised, can be imagined. She had seen all her
hopes reduced to nothing. Her husband had fled after a shameful
bankruptcy, her lover had deserted her, her daughter had disappeared
without leaving a word behind her, and what was left to her? The child
of her shame, who had been sentenced to the galleys for murder.
She had sacrificed everything for this son, whom she loved dearly; the
Jesuits had taken her million, and saved Benedetto from the gallows.
Though, to her idea, the galleys was worse than death; but there was a
chance of his getting free. No, she did not wish to think any more; she
would bury herself in a convent in Asia Minor, and forget everything.
Toulon was at length reached; the driver took the road to the port, and
she felt her heart cease beating. In a little while she would see
Benedetto; the carriage stopped; the driver got out and opened the door.
"Will you please step out? Here is the Bagnio."
With trembling limbs, Madame Danglars left the coach, and slipping a few
gold pieces into his hand, she said:
"Make yourself comfortable in the nearest saloon; in about three hours
we shall return home."
"To-day, madame?" asked the man; "that would be impossible."
"Why impossible? Get fresh horses, I will pay you for everything."
"I am very sorry, madame, but the storm, the mistral will come very
soon, and while the mistral lasts we cannot ride."
"Then I must look for another driver; I cannot delay my return."
"Madame, believe me, you will not find any one who will drive you while
the storm lasts. Wait till to-morrow. I will put up my horses at the
Black Eagle and await your commands there."
"I will think about it, but doubt whether I shall follow your advice.
Adieu."
Madame Danglars entered the office of the port inspector and the driver
drove off.