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"But," said Danglars, who, on his part, did not perceive how soon the conversation, which was at first disinterested, was turning to a business transaction, "there is, doubtless, a part of your fortune your father could not refuse you?" "Which?" asked the young man. "That you inherit from your mother." "Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari." "How much may it amount to?"
He had spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari.
"She was of a noble family of Fiesole, count." "And her name was" "Do you desire to know her name?" "Oh," said Monte Cristo "it would be quite superfluous for you to tell me, for I already know it." "The count knows everything," said the Italian, bowing. "Oliva Corsinari, was it not?" "Oliva Corsinari." "A marchioness?" "A marchioness."
"And you married her at last, notwithstanding the opposition of her family?" "Yes, that was the way it ended." "And you have doubtless brought all your papers with you?" said Monte Cristo. "What papers?" "The certificate of your marriage with Oliva Corsinari, and the register of your child's birth." "The register of my child's birth?"
"It would be a difficult matter to arrange," said Monte Cristo. "Almost an impossibility," replied the major. "I am very glad to see that you understand the value of these papers." "I regard them as invaluable." "Now," said Monte Cristo "as to the mother of the young man" "As to the mother of the young man" repeated the Italian, with anxiety. "As regards the Marchesa Corsinari"
"You married Oliva Corsinari in the church of San Paolo del Monte-Cattini; here is the priest's certificate." "Yes indeed, there it is truly," said the Italian, looking on with astonishment. "And here is Andrea Cavalcanti's baptismal register, given by the curate of Saravezza." "All quite correct." "Take these documents, then; they do not concern me.
"You think so?" "Certainly." "Very well, then." "If they should hear of the separation" "Ah, yes; what could I say?" "That an unfaithful tutor, bought over by the enemies of your family" "By the Corsinari?" "Precisely. Had stolen away this child, in order that your name might become extinct." "That is reasonable, since he is an only son."
You are the son of the Marchese Cavalcanti and the Marchesa Oliva Corsinari. The marquis will give you some papers which will certify this fact, and authorize you to appear under that name in the Parisian world. As to your rank, an annual income of 50,000 livres will enable you to support it admirably.
Set out immediately for Paris, and demand of the Count of Monte Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysees, No. 30, the son whom you had by the Marchesa Corsinari, and who was taken from you at five years of age. This son is named Andrea Cavalcanti.
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