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Updated: June 26, 2025
Now, if you are mad and try to bite me, I will kill you without pity. Is it my fault that your father has dishonored himself?" "Yes, miserable wretch!" cried Morcerf, "it is your fault." Danglars retreated a few steps. "My fault?" said he; "you must be mad! What do I know of the Grecian affair? Have I travelled in that country? Did I advise your father to sell the castle of Yanina to betray"
"What has he done to you?" "There appeared in his journal last night but wait, and read for yourself." And Albert handed over the paper to the count, who read as follows: "A correspondent at Yanina informs us of a fact of which until now we had remained in ignorance.
"You wish me, then, to relate the history of my past sorrows?" said she. "I beg you to do so," replied Albert. "Well, I was but four years old when one night I was suddenly awakened by my mother. We were in the palace of Yanina; she snatched me from the cushions on which I was sleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hers filled with tears. She took me away without speaking.
I was speaking of your father's past history. I said the origin of his fortune remained obscure. The person to whom I addressed my scruples asked me where your father had acquired his property? I answered, 'In Greece. 'Then, said he, 'write to Yanina." "And who thus advised you?" "No other than your friend, Monte Cristo." "The Count of Monte Cristo told you to write to Yanina?"
The streets, the cafes, the studios; his few men, his many women, friends Adolph Jensen, the kindly Swede who loved him; Louise, Nanette, the little Polish Yanina, who had said they loved him; the slanting-glanced Turkish students, the grave Syrians, the democratic un-British Londoners the smell, the glamour of Paris, returned to him with the nostalgia of despair. These he had left.
I am happy to see, M. Beauchamp, that you are more sober than he was." "Sir," said M. Beauchamp, "Albert was wrong, I acknowledge, to betray so much anger, and I come, on my own account, to apologize for him. And having done so, entirely on my own account, be it understood, I would add that I believe you too gentlemanly to refuse giving him some explanation concerning your connection with Yanina.
Albert opened the paper, it was an attestation of four notable inhabitants of Yanina, proving that Colonel Fernand Mondego, in the service of Ali Tepelini, had surrendered the castle for two million crowns. The signatures were perfectly legal. Albert tottered and fell overpowered in a chair. It could no longer be doubted; the family name was fully given.
"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf." "That is worth listening to: how is the poor fellow getting along?" "Oh, splendidly! He distinguishes himself in every battle, and will one day become a famous general." "I hope so. Do you still recollect the hard times poor Morcerf had when the first article from Yanina appeared in your paper?" "I do.
Ali Pasha of Yanina was reduced and shot by the Turks that same year; and Omar Pasha, who had been sent against him, had a great deal of desperate fighting with the Suliots and other Albanian Greeks, but at last he was driven back through the mountains with terrible loss. Another horrid deed of the Turks did much to turn men’s minds against them.
"And why do you represent providence?" cried Mercedes. "Why do you remember when it forgets? What are Yanina and its vizier to you, Edmond? What injury his Fernand Mondego done you in betraying Ali Tepelini?" "Ah, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "all this is an affair between the French captain and the daughter of Vasiliki.
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