World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 198 The Lion's Den (2)
Moving like a shadow across the yard, Andra hurried through the half-open cell door, to the amazement of his companions and the jailer himself.He was indeed called to the interview room, and Andra, like everyone else, wondered that when this cunning young man entered Forsey Prison, he did not take advantage of the inmates' ability to write letters outside the prison, as ordinary prisoners did. The right to ask someone to appeal for him, on the contrary, he adopted a submissive attitude and never complained. "There must be someone powerful and powerful protecting me," he thought to himself, "everything is proof, and that's why I'm suddenly lucky, and I get over every obstacle with ease. , and found a father for me to form a family, and I also had a prominent surname, gold rained down on me, and meticulous arrangements were made for me, and I was almost married. Just because of destiny It was only because of my protector’s carelessness that I stumbled. Yes, I am definitely not completely defeated and never get up! The hand that was retracted for a while will still reach out to me, just when I thought I wanted to When I fall into the abyss, I will definitely be caught again. Why should I be so ignorant and annoying? Otherwise, the protector will hate me! He has two ways to save me, or pay a lot of money to buy the prison, Let me get out without anyone noticing, or pressure the courts to avoid prosecution. I'll wait, don't rush to talk, don't rush to act, until it is really seen that he has completely left me, and by then ..."

Andra has already thought of a very cunning method.This shameless man will never be soft when attacking, nor will he be polite when defending.As long as he is in prison, he will suffer and suffer all kinds of hardships, and he has survived all of these.However, nature, or habit, slowly gained the upper hand.Andra felt that there was nothing to wear, nothing to eat, everything was dirty, and he couldn't stand it anymore, and he felt that life was too difficult.

Just when he was burning with worry, the sheriff called him to the interview room.Andra suddenly felt that his heart was about to burst out with joy.The examining magistrate could not have come so early, and the warden or the prison doctor could not have come so late, so it must be some unexpected visitor.Andra was ushered into the meeting room. He was eager to know what was going on, so he opened his eyes wide and looked through the iron grille. He caught sight of Beticio's gloomy and sly face, and Beticio also He was looking at the two rows of iron bars in both surprise and pain, at the locked iron gates and the swaying figures behind the iron bars.

"Ah!" Andra yelled deeply.

"Hello, Benedetto," said Beticio in his thick, resonant voice.

"You! It's you!" said Andra, looking around in panic.

"You don't know me anymore," said Beticio, "poor boy!"

"Keep your voice down, be sure to keep your voice down," Andra said, knowing that the walls were full of sensitive ears. "My God, my God, don't shout so loud!"

"You want to talk to me alone," said Beticio, "do you?"

"Oh, yes," said Andra.

"Very well then," said Beticio, and reaching into his pockets he greeted the guard who stood behind the little glass door. "Please read it," he said to the guard.

"What?" Andra asked.

"An order to have them take you to a single room where I can talk to you alone."

"Oh!" cried Andra, jumping up for joy.Immediately afterwards, he turned his head and said to himself: "It's this unknown protector again! He hasn't forgotten me! He wants to find out some secrets, so he wants to talk in a private room. I have to hold on to the secret... Betty West O was sent by the protector!"

The guard murmured with his superior for a while, then opened the two iron gates, and led Andra to a cell on the second floor facing the courtyard. At this time Andra was already overjoyed.According to prison regulations, the walls of a single cell are whitewashed with lime, which looks like resplendent gold to the prisoners. A stove, a bed, a chair, and a table are really luxurious furniture. There is nothing lacking here.Beticio sat down on the chair, Andra lay on the bed, and the guard led them in and left.

"Speak," said the butler, "what do you want to tell me?"

"What about you?" Andra said.

"You go first..."

"Oh! no, since you have come to me, you must have a lot to tell me."

"Okay, I can say it first. You are a bad habit, you are stealing things, and you are killing people."

"Okay! If you came to give me a private room just to say these things to me, then there is no need to bother you. I know all these things. I don't know some things on the contrary. Then Please, tell me. Who sent you?"

"Oh! Oh! You are too impatient, Mr. Benededo."

"Really? You have to be straight to the point, especially the nonsense. We don't need to talk too much. Who sent you here?"

"No one sent me."

"How did you know I was in jail?"

"I've recognized you a long time ago. Wearing fashionable clothes, with a high-spirited look, you are riding a horse along the Champs-Elysées leisurely."

"The Champs-Elysées! Ah! Ah! In terms of a game of tweezers, we are about to pierce... Champs-Elysees... Enough talking, how about my father? "

"Then who am I?"

"You, my good sir, you are my adoptive father... But it's not you, I think, you won't give me a hundred thousand francs to spend in four or five months, you won't make a Italian gentleman being my father, you wouldn't introduce me into society and invite me to such a dinner. I still remember the dinner, it was at Auteuil. And invited the greatest Parisian society There's one guy who's a public prosecutor. I was a fool for not getting close to him, or he would have helped me at this time. This time I'm out of luck. I'm out of luck. You can't go Spend one or two million to bail me out... Forget it, tell me what you have to say, venerable Corsican guy, tell me!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Let me remind you. Just now you mentioned the Champs Elysees, my venerable adoptive father."

"how?"

"Why! There lives a very, very rich gentleman in the Champs-Elysées."

"That's where you stole and killed, didn't you?"

"I suppose so."

"The Count of Monte Cristo?"

"This corresponds to Racine, the French tragic poet (1639-1699). What you said, sir, is the one who revealed the name. How about it, shall I follow the example of the French tragic poet Pixegur (1773-1844) [-]). The script written by Mr., threw himself into his arms, and then hugged him tightly and shouted: 'My father! My father?'”

"Don't be silly," said Beticio gravely, "that name is not spoken here, you are too presumptuous."

"Oh!" Andra said, seeing Beticio's serious face, he was startled, "Why can't you say it?"

"Because a person with this name is deeply favored by the heavens, it is absolutely impossible to have such a sinful son as you."

"Ah! That's too much to say..."

"If you don't take it seriously, the consequences will be serious!"

"Scare me? I'm not afraid... I'll just say..."

"Do you think that what you are dealing with is an insignificant person like you?" Beticio said, with such a calm tone and such firm eyes that Andra couldn't help being shocked, "Do you think you are dealing with Is it a scoundrel like you who is only fit for hard labor? A fool like you who has never seen the world and is only worthy of being deceived? Benedetto, you have fallen into a terrible hand, But this hand wants to let you go, so don't let this opportunity slip by. This hand doesn't clean you up yet, so don't be kidding, as long as you dare to hinder this hand from moving freely, it will be bad for you You're welcome."

"My father... I want to know who my father is!" Andra said entangledly, "If I want to die, then I will die, but I must know who my father is. It doesn't matter if I am embarrassed Is it in the way of my property? Is it in the way of my reputation? Or is it like the reporter Beauchamp said, is it in the way of my word of mouth? But you high-society people, you have millions of fortunes and your own family coat of arms. But once a scandal occurs, you will inevitably lose something... Tell me, who is my father?"

"I'm here to tell you what's going on..."

"Ah!" Benedetto couldn't help shouting with joy in his eyes.

At that moment the door opened, and the guard said to Beticio: "Excuse me, sir, but the examining magistrate is waiting to arraign the prisoner."

"That's the last time I'll be interrogated," said Andra to the venerable steward. "Go to hell with this annoying fellow!"

"I'll come back tomorrow," Beticio said.

"Yes!" said Andra, "Mr. Gendarmerie, I am at your command... Ah! My dear sir, please leave a dozen crowns for the safekeeping so that they can get me something urgent."

"I'll give it," Beticio said.

Andra reached out to Beticio, but Beticio kept his hands in his pockets, and just jingled a few silver coins in his pockets.

"That's what I mean." Andra said winkingly, but he was completely overwhelmed by Beticio's surprisingly calm demeanor. "Won't I be fooled?" he thought to himself, stepping into the long, grated prison cart called a lettuce basket, "we'll see!" Then he turned to Beticio and said, "That's all. ,See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow!" replied the butler.

(End of this chapter)