IN THE BAGNIO
"Well, what is the matter now?" asked the inspector, gruffly, as Madame
Danglars handed him the priest's letter. He grumblingly opened the
letter, but when he had read its contents his face lighted up and,
making a respectful bow, he said:
"Madame, after reading these lines, I can only carry out all your
wishes, as far as they are confined within the limits of the rules in
force here. You desire to see one of our prisoners?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are aware that such an interview can only take place in the
presence of the chaplain?"
Madame Danglars became frightened. She had not expected this.
"I will have the chaplain informed," continued the official. "In fact, I
shall let him come into my office. This is a special favor. Yesterday
there was a lady here to see Benedetto, who was not permitted to
converse with him except in the presence of the port inspector and the
jailer."
"A lady?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. "Can you tell me who
she was?"
"Oh, certainly, it was Mademoiselle de Villefort, the daughter of the
recently deceased district-attorney."
"Monsieur de Villefort is dead?" said Madame Danglars in a choking
voice.
"Yes, madame, he died in a private lunatic asylum in Paris. Did you know
the gentleman?"
"Yes, slightly," replied Madame Danglars, restraining her emotion. "If
you would let the gentleman be informed now--"
"At once, madame," said the official.
He wrote a few lines and went away, promising to return shortly. In
about half an hour the chaplain appeared. He bowed respectfully, and
said:
"Madame, I am aware of the reason which brings you here."
"What, you know?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, frightened.
"Calm yourself, madame; the secrets which are intrusted to me are
buried. I must witness your interview as a matter of form, but I shall
neither hear nor see."
Madame Danglars with tears in her eyes thanked the chaplain. The next
minute the door opened and Benedetto appeared, accompanied by the
jailer. When the poor mother saw the yellow and red clothing, the green
cap, and the chain which led from the waist to the ankle, she uttered a
low cry and clutched the arm of a chair to prevent herself from
fainting. Upon a wink from the chaplain, who wore the dress of a Jesuit
priest, the jailer departed, and after the priest had closed the door,
he turned toward Benedetto, and said:
"My son, thank God for his mercy, and try to show yourself worthy of
it."
Neither Madame Danglars nor the priest noticed the smile which flitted
across the convict's face. Benedetto collected himself immediately, and
taking off his hat he bent his knee to his mother and crossed his eyes
with his hand. The priest sat in the window alcove, pulled a prayer-book
out of his pocket and began to read; Madame Danglars threw a look
around, then she took the bald-shaved head of Benedetto in her hands and
sobbingly murmured:
"My poor, poor son!"
"A thousand thanks, mother, for coming," said the hypocritical convict.
"Oh, I desired to come, it was necessary for me to see you again,"
stammered the poor woman.
"How good you are! Are you aware that my father pursued me even on his
death-bed? He sent his daughter, my sister, here; she brought me his
last regards, but she did not give me her hand nor call me brother."
"My son, forget everything bad that has been done to you; forgive your
enemies, as you desire to be yourself forgiven," implored the poor
mother.
"For your sake, then. But, tell me, mother, are you really going to
leave France?"
"Yes; to-morrow, at this hour, I shall sail."
"But you are not going alone; the journey is so far, and I fear danger
for you."
"Thanks, Benedetto, for your anxiety. How happy you make me. But calm
yourself, I shall dwell in the society of pious women, who will protect
me."
"Yes, I forgot. You gave your fortune to buy this protection--the price
you paid was pretty steep."
"Benedetto, you blaspheme. Your life is not too dear for me to
purchase."
"I wish I could earn your love," murmured Benedetto, apparently
annihilated; "you gave up a million to rescue me. If you had more money,
I am sure you would sacrifice it to secure my full pardon."
"Oh, I do not give up all hope yet," exclaimed Madame Danglars,
vivaciously.
"What? Have you still got the million?" asked Benedetto, hastily.
"I shall not deliver the money before to-morrow. But that has nothing to
do with the matter. What I have promised, I keep."
Benedetto remained silent, while a thousand confused ideas ran through
his mind. He stood with downcast eyes, his left hand carelessly stroking
his chain and his right crumpling his green cap.
"Mother," he finally said, in a low voice, "there is no use speaking of
the past--let us think of the future. You are going to depart to-morrow;
where are you staying now?"
"I live at the vicarage of Beaussuet. The Jesuit fathers recommended me
there, and I am staying there over-night, although the priest is
absent."
"Oh, God!" sobbed Benedetto, "if I could only accompany you."
"I would be glad, too; I have a rough road to go back to Beaussuet. The
mistral blows, and the roads of Oliolles are said to be so dangerous
that my driver refuses to take me back to-night. Well, I will find
another one."
"But why do you not stay in Toulon until the morning?"
"Impossible. I must hurry back to Beaussuet. I left the money at the
vicarage."
"Wasn't that careless? A lonely vicarage, whose owner is absent--"
"I took good care of it; the portfolio containing the money is stowed
safely away in a tight closet, the key of which I carry."
"But the portfolio must be a large one. It is not so easy to wrap up a
million," said Benedetto, inquisitively.
"Yes, if I had to deliver the whole sum in coin; but that is not the
case. Only a small part of the million is in gold, the rest is in
bank-notes."
Benedetto nodded. He knew now exactly what he had desired to find out,
and as the chaplain rose, and gently hinted that the time for the
interview had expired, the convict turned to his mother, and weepingly
said:
"Bless me, mother."
Madame Danglars placed her trembling hands on his head, and tenderly
whispered:
"God be with you!"
Her strength deserted her; and while Benedetto was being led out by a
jailer, she leaned faintingly against a chair.
The priest consoled her. She sorrowfully shook her head, collected
herself, slipped a thousand-franc note into the priest's hand, and
murmured:
"Give that to those who are as unhappy as I am."
The next moment she wrapped her cloak firmly about her, and strode
toward the inn where the driver awaited her.