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Ten years before, in February, 1829, Jacopo had taken him, who had passed fourteen long years in the Chateau d'If, into his service. Caderousse, Ferdinand, Danglars, and Villefort had been his enemies, and now justice had overtaken all of them.
This was M. Morrel's wish also, who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent; but the old man resisted, and cried so that they were actually frightened. Mercedes remained, therefore, by his bedside, and M. Morrel went away, making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney-piece. "And you believe he died" "Of hunger, sir, of hunger," said Caderousse.
"You do not know Mercedes; what she threatens she will do." "Idiot!" muttered Danglars; "whether she kill herself or not, what matter, provided Dantes is not captain?" "Before Mercedes should die," replied Fernand, with the accents of unshaken resolution, "I would die myself!" "That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. "That's love, or I don't know what love is."
"Well," he said, "all you have told me is perfectly true, then, and I may believe it in every particular." "See, sir," replied Caderousse, "in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood here on this shelf is my wife's testament; open this book, and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix.
Caderousse had once more parted with his treasure the banknotes were replaced in the pocket-book, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole carefully locked in the cupboard.
"I will say," continued the count, "that he followed and watched you the whole time, and when he saw you leave the house, ran to the angle of the wall to conceal himself." "Did you see all that?" "Remember my words: 'If you return home safely, I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you also." "And you did not warn me!" cried Caderousse, raising himself on his elbows.
"But the strangest part of the story is," resumed the abbe, "that Dantes, even in his dying moments, swore by his crucified Redeemer, that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention." "And so he was," murmured Caderousse. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah, sir, the poor fellow told you the truth."
"Yes, yes, Dantes' good health!" said Caderousse, emptying his glass, "here's to his health! his health hurrah!" "But the means the means?" said Fernand. "Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars. "No! you undertook to do so." "True," replied Danglars; "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards, that the Spaniards ruminate, while the French invent."
"I die, murdered by the Corsican Benedetto, my comrade in the galleys at Toulouse, No. 59." "Quick, quick!" said Caderousse, "or I shall be unable to sign it." Monte Cristo gave the pen to Caderousse, who collected all his strength, signed it, and fell back on his bed, saying: "You will relate all the rest, reverend sir; you will say he calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti.
'You will go to Marseilles, said Dantes, for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered them. Do you understand?" "Perfectly." "'You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money into five equal parts, and give an equal portion to these good friends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth." "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only mentioned four persons."
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