IT WAS evident that one sentiment affected¹ all the guests on entering the dining-room. Each one asked what strange influence had brought them to this house, and yet astonished, even uneasy though they were, they still felt that they would not like to be absent. The recent events, the solitary² and eccentric position of the count, his enormous, nay³, almost incredible fortune, should have made men cautious, and have altogether prevented ladies visiting a house where there was no one of their own sex to receive them; and yet curiosity had been enough to lead them to overleap the bounds of prudence⁴ and decorum. And all present, even including Cavalcanti and his son, notwithstanding the stiffness of the one and the carelessness of the other, were thoughtful, on finding themselves assembled at the house of this incomprehensible man. Madame Danglars had started when Villefort, on the count's invitation, offered his arm; and Villefort felt that his glance was uneasy beneath his gold spectacles, when he felt the arm of the baroness⁶ press upon his own. None of this had escaped the count, and even by this mere⁸ contact of individuals the scene had already acquired considerable interest for an observer. M. de Villefort had on the right hand Madame Danglars, on his left Morrel. The count was seated between Madame de Villefort and Danglars; the other seats were filled by Debray, who was placed between the two Cavalcanti, and by Chateau-Renaud, seated between Madame de Villefort and Morrel.

The repast was magnificent; Monte Cristo had endeavored completely to overturn the Parisian ideas, and to feed the curiosity as much as the appetite of his guests. It was an Oriental feast that he offered to them, but of such a kind as the Arabian fairies might be supposed to prepare. Every delicious fruit that the four quarters of the globe could provide was heaped in vases from China and jars from Japan. Rare birds, retaining their most brilliant plumage, enormous fish, spread upon massive silver dishes, together with every wine produced in the Archipelago, Asia Minor⁹, or the Cape⁷, sparkling in bottles, whose grotesque¹⁰ shape seemed to give an additional flavor to the draught,--all these, like one of the displays with which Apicius of old gratified his guests, passed in review before the eyes of the astonished Parisians, who understood that it was possible to expend¹¹ a thousand louis upon a dinner for ten persons, but only on the condition of eating pearls, like Cleopatra, or drinking refined gold, like Lorenzo de' Medici.

Monte Cristo noticed the general astonishment¹², and began laughing and joking about it. "Gentlemen," he said, "you will admit that, when arrived at a certain degree of fortune, the superfluities of life are all that can be desired; and the ladies will allow that, after having risen to a certain eminence¹³ of position, the ideal alone can be more exalted¹⁴. Now, to follow out this reasoning, what is the marvellous?--that which we do not understand. What is it that we really desire?--that which we cannot obtain. Now, to see things which I cannot understand, to procure¹⁵ impossibilities, these are the study of my life. I gratify my wishes by two means--my will and my money. I take as much interest in the pursuit of some whim¹⁶ as you do, M. Danglars, in promoting a new railway line; you, M. de Villefort, in condemning¹⁷ a culprit to death; you, M. Debray, in pacifying¹⁸ a kingdom; you, M. de Chateau-Renaud, in pleasing a woman; and you, Morrel, in breaking a horse that no one can ride. For example, you see these two fish; one brought fifty leagues beyond St. Petersburg, the other five leagues from Naples. Is it not amusing to see them both on the same table?"

"What are the two fish?" asked Danglars.

"M. Chateau-Renaud, who has lived in Russia, will tell you the name of one, and Major Cavalcanti, who is an Italian, will tell you the name of the other."

"This one is, I think, a sterlet," said Chateau-Renaud.

"And that one, if I mistake not, a lamprey."

"Just so. Now, M. Danglars, ask these gentlemen where they are caught."

"Starlets," said Chateau-Renaud, "are only found in the Volga."

"And," said Cavalcanti, "I know that Lake Fusaro alone supplies lampreys of that size."

"Exactly; one comes from the Volga, and the other from Lake Fusaro."

"Impossible!" cried all the guests simultaneously¹⁹.

"Well, this is just what amuses me," said Monte Cristo. "I am like Nero--cupitor impossibilium; and that is what is amusing you at this moment. This fish, which seems so exquisite²⁰ to you, is very likely no better than perch²¹ or salmon²²; but it seemed impossible to procure it, and here it is."

"But how could you have these fish brought to France?"

"Oh, nothing more easy. Each fish was brought over in a cask--one filled with river herbs and weeds, the other with rushes and lake plants; they were placed in a wagon²³ built on purpose, and thus the sterlet lived twelve days, the lamprey eight, and both were alive when my cook seized them, killing²⁴ one with milk and the other with wine. You do not believe me, M. Danglars!"

"I cannot help doubting," answered Danglars with his stupid smile.

"Baptistin," said the count, "have the other fish brought in--the sterlet and the lamprey which came in the other casks, and which are yet alive." Danglars opened his bewildered eyes; the company clapped their hands. Four servants carried in two casks covered with aquatic²⁵ plants, and in each of which was breathing a fish similar to those on the table.

"But why have two of each sort?" asked Danglars.

"Merely because one might have died," carelessly answered Monte Cristo.

"You are certainly an extraordinary man," said Danglars; "and philosophers may well say it is a fine thing to be rich."

"And to have ideas," added Madame Danglars.

"Oh, do not give me credit for this, madame; it was done by the Romans, who much esteemed²⁶ them, and Pliny relates that they sent slaves from Ostia to Rome, who carried on their heads fish which he calls the mulus, and which, from the description, must probably be the goldfish. It was also considered a luxury to have them alive, it being an amusing sight to see them die, for, when dying, they change color three or four times, and like the rainbow when it disappears, pass through all the prismatic shades, after which they were sent to the kitchen. Their agony formed part of their merit--if they were not seen alive, they were despised when dead."

"Yes," said Debray, "but then Ostia is only a few leagues from Rome."

"True," said Monte Cristo; "but what would be the use of living eighteen hundred years after Lucullus. if we can do no better than he could?" The two Cavalcanti opened their enormous eyes, but had the good sense not to say anything. "All this is very extraordinary," said Chateau-Renaud; "still, what I admire the most, I confess, is the marvellous promptitude with which your orders are executed. Is it not true that you only bought this house five or six days ago?"

"Certainly not longer."

"Well, I am sure it is quite transformed since last week. If I remember rightly, it had another entrance, and the court-yard was paved and empty; while to-day we have a splendid lawn, bordered by trees which appear to be a hundred years old."

"Why not? I am fond of grass and shade," said Monte Cristo.

"Yes," said Madame de Villefort, "the door was towards the road before, and on the day of my miraculous²⁷ escape you brought me into the house from the road, I remember."

"Yes, madame," said Monte Cristo; "but I preferred having an entrance which would allow me to see the Bois de Boulogne over my gate."

"In four days," said Morrel; "it is extraordinary!"

"Indeed," said Chateau-Renaud, "it seems quite miraculous to make a new house out of an old one; for it was very old, and dull too. I recollect²⁸ coming for my mother to look at it when M. de Saint-Méran advertised it for sale two or three years ago."

"M. de Saint-Méran?" said Madame de Villefort; "then this house belonged to M. de Saint-Méran before you bought it?"

"It appears so," replied Monte Cristo.

"Is it possible that you do not know of whom you purchased it?"

"Quite so; my steward²⁹ transacts³⁰ all this business for me."

"It is certainly ten years since the house had been occupied," said Chateau-Renaud, "and it was quite melancholy³¹ to look at it, with the blinds closed, the doors locked, and the weeds in the court. Really, if the house had not belonged to the father-in-law of the procureur, one might have thought it some accursed place where a horrible crime had been committed." Villefort, who had hitherto not tasted the three or four glasses of rare wine which were placed before him, here took one, and drank it off. Monte Cristo allowed a short time to elapse, and then said, "It is singular, baron⁵, but the same idea came across me the first time I came here; it looked so gloomy I should never have bought it if my steward had not taken the matter into his own hands. Perhaps the fellow had been bribed³² by the notary³³."

"It is probable," stammered³⁴ out Villefort, trying to smile; "but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with any such proceeding³⁵. This house is part of Valentine's marriage-portion, and M. de Saint-Méran wished to sell it; for if it had remained another year or two uninhabited it would have fallen to ruin." It was Morrel's turn to become pale.

"There was, above all, one room," continued Monte Cristo, "very plain in appearance, hung with red damask, which, I know not why, appeared to me quite dramatic."

"Why so?" said Danglars; "why dramatic?"

"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte Cristo. "Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness?--why, we cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections--an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places--which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place. And there is something in this room which reminds me forcibly of the chamber³⁶ of the Marquise de Ganges or Desdemona. Stay, since we have finished dinner, I will show it to you, and then we will take coffee in the garden. After dinner, the play." Monte Cristo looked inquiringly at his guests. Madame de Villefort rose, Monte Cristo did the same, and the rest followed their example. Villefort and Madame Danglars remained for a moment, as if rooted to their seats; they questioned each other with vague and stupid glances. "Did you hear?" said Madame Danglars.

"We must go," replied Villefort, offering his arm. The others, attracted by curiosity, were already scattered³⁷ in different parts of the house; for they thought the visit would not be limited to the one room, and that, at the same time, they would obtain a view of the rest of the building, of which Monte Cristo had created a palace. Each one went out by the open doors. Monte Cristo waited for the two who remained; then, when they had passed, he brought up the rear, and on his face was a smile, which, if they could have understood it, would have alarmed them much more than a visit to the room they were about to enter. They began by walking through the apartments, many of which were fitted up in the Eastern style, with cushions and divans³⁸ instead of beds, and pipes instead of furniture. The drawing-rooms were decorated with the rarest pictures by the old masters, the boudoirs hung with draperies from China, of fanciful colors, fantastic design, and wonderful texture³⁹. At length they arrived at the famous room. There was nothing particular about it, excepting that, although daylight had disappeared, it was not lighted, and everything in it was old-fashioned, while the rest of the rooms had been redecorated. These two causes were enough to give it a gloomy aspect. "Oh." cried Madame de Villefort, "it is really frightful⁴⁰." Madame Danglars tried to utter a few words, but was not heard. Many observations were made, the import of which was a unanimous opinion that there was something sinister⁴¹ about the room. "Is it not so?" asked Monte Cristo. "Look at that large clumsy bed, hung with such gloomy, blood-colored drapery! And those two crayon portraits, that have faded from the dampness; do they not seem to say, with their pale lips and staring eyes, 'We have seen'?" Villefort became livid; Madame Danglars fell into a long seat placed near the chimney. "Oh," said Madame de Villefort, smiling, "are you courageous⁴² enough to sit down upon the very seat perhaps upon which the crime was committed?" Madame Danglars rose suddenly.

"And then," said Monte Cristo, "this is not all."

"What is there more?" said Debray, who had not failed to notice the agitation⁴³ of Madame Danglars.

"Ah, what else is there?" said Danglars; "for, at present, I cannot say that I have seen anything extraordinary. What do you say, M. Cavalcanti?"

"Ah," said he, "we have at Pisa, Ugolino's tower; at Ferrara, Tasso's prison; at Rimini, the room of Francesca and Paolo."

"Yes, but you have not this little staircase," said Monte Cristo, opening a door concealed⁴⁴ by the drapery. "Look at it, and tell me what you think of it."

"What a wicked-looking, crooked⁴⁵ staircase," said Chateau-Renaud with a smile.

"I do not know whether the wine of Chios produces melancholy, but certainly everything appears to me black in this house," said Debray.

Ever since Valentine's dowry had been mentioned, Morrel had been silent and sad. "Can you imagine," said Monte Cristo, "some Othello or Abbé de Ganges, one stormy, dark night, descending⁴⁶ these stairs step by step, carrying a load, which he wishes to hide from the sight of man, if not from God?" Madame Danglars half fainted on the arm of Villefort, who was obliged to support himself against the wall. "Ah, madame," cried Debray, "what is the matter with you? how pale you look!"

"It is very evident what is the matter with her," said Madame de Villefort; "M. de Monte Cristo is relating horrible stories to us, doubtless intending to frighten us to death."

"Yes," said Villefort, "really, count, you frighten the ladies."

"What is the matter?" asked Debray, in a whisper, of Madame Danglars.

"Nothing," she replied with a violent effort. "I want air, that is all."

"Will you come into the garden?" said Debray, advancing towards the back staircase.

"No, no," she answered, "I would rather remain here."

"Are you really frightened, madame?" said Monte Cristo.

"Oh, no, sir," said Madame Danglars; "but you suppose scenes in a manner which gives them the appearance of reality "

"Ah, yes," said Monte Cristo smiling; "it is all a matter of imagination. Why should we not imagine this the apartment of an honest mother? And this bed with red hangings, a bed visited by the goddess Lucina? And that mysterious staircase, the passage through which, not to disturb their sleep, the doctor and nurse pass, or even the father carrying the sleeping child?" Here Madame Danglars, instead of being calmed by the soft picture, uttered a groan⁴⁷ and fainted. "Madame Danglars is ill," said Villefort; "it would be better to take her to her carriage."

"Oh, mon Dieu," said Monte Cristo, "and I have forgotten my smelling-bottle!"

"I have mine," said Madame de Villefort; and she passed over to Monte Cristo a bottle full of the same kind of red liquid whose good properties the count had tested on Edward.

"Ah," said Monte Cristo, taking it from her hand.

"Yes," she said, "at your advice I have made the trial."

"And have you succeeded?"

"I think so."

Madame Danglars was carried into the adjoining room; Monte Cristo dropped a very small portion of the red liquid upon her lips; she returned to consciousness. "Ah," she cried, "what a frightful dream!"

Villefort pressed her hand to let her know it was not a dream. They looked for M. Danglars, but, as he was not especially interested in poetical⁴⁸ ideas, he had gone into the garden, and was talking with Major Cavalcanti on the projected railway from Leghorn to Florence. Monte Cristo seemed in despair. He took the arm of Madame Danglars, and conducted her into the garden, where they found Danglars taking coffee between the Cavalcanti. "Really, madame," he said, "did I alarm you much?"

"Oh, no, sir," she answered; "but you know, things impress us differently, according to the mood of our minds." Villefort forced a laugh. "And then, you know," he said, "an idea, a supposition, is sufficient."

"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you may believe me if you like, but it is my opinion that a crime has been committed in this house."

"Take care," said Madame de Villefort, "the king's attorney is here."

"Ah," replied Monte Cristo, "since that is the case, I will take advantage of his presence to make my declaration."

"Your declaration?" said Villefort.

"Yes, before witnesses."

"Oh, this is very interesting," said Debray; "if there really has been a crime, we will investigate it."

"There has been a crime," said Monte Cristo. "Come this way, gentlemen; come, M. Villefort, for a declaration to be available, should be made before the competent authorities." He then took Villefort's arm, and, at the same time, holding that of Madame Danglars under his own, he dragged the procureur to the plantain-tree, where the shade was thickest. All the other guests followed. "Stay," said Monte Cristo, "here, in this very spot" (and he stamped upon the ground), "I had the earth dug up and fresh mould put in, to refresh these old trees; well, my man, digging, found a box, or rather, the iron-work of a box, in the midst of which was the skeleton of a newly born infant." Monte Cristo felt the arm of Madame Danglars stiffen⁴⁹, while that of Villefort trembled. "A newly born infant," repeated Debray; "this affair becomes serious!"

"Well," said Chateau-Renaud, "I was not wrong just now then, when I said that houses had souls and faces like men, and that their exteriors⁵⁰ carried the impress of their characters. This house was gloomy because it was remorseful⁵¹: it was remorseful because it concealed a crime."

"Who said it was a crime?" asked Villefort, with a last effort.

"How? is it not a crime to bury a living child in a garden?" cried Monte Cristo. "And pray what do you call such an action?"

"But who said it was buried alive?"

"Why bury it there if it were dead? This garden has never been a cemetery⁵²."

"What is done to infanticides in this country?" asked Major Cavalcanti innocently.

"Oh, their heads are soon cut off," said Danglars.

"Ah, indeed?" said Cavalcanti.

"I think so; am I not right, M. de Villefort?" asked Monte Cristo.

"Yes, count," replied Villefort, in a voice now scarcely human.

Monte Cristo, seeing that the two persons for whom he had prepared this scene could scarcely endure it, and not wishing to carry it too far, said, "Come, gentlemen,--some coffee, we seem to have forgotten it," and he conducted the guests back to the table on the lawn.

"Indeed, count," said Madame Danglars, "I am ashamed to own it, but all your frightful stories have so upset me, that I must beg you to let me sit down;" and she fell into a chair. Monte Cristo bowed, and went to Madame de Villefort. "I think Madame Danglars again requires your bottle," he said. But before Madame de Villefort could reach her friend the procureur had found time to whisper to Madame Danglars, "I must speak to you."

"When?"

"To-morrow."

"Where?"

"In my office, or in the court, if you like,--that is the surest place."

"I will be there."--At this moment Madame de Villefort approached. "Thanks, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, trying to smile; "it is over now, and I am much better."

来宾们一踏进餐厅，大家显然都有某种感触。每个人都在心里自问，究竟是什么神奇的力量把他们带到这座房子里来的；可是，尽管他们惊奇，甚至不安，他们却依旧觉得不愿意离开。考虑到伯爵的社会关系，他那种怪癖孤独的地位，以及他那惊人的，几乎难以令人置信的财产，男人们似乎应该对他有所警惕，而女人们则似乎应该觉得不适宜于走进一座没有女主人出来招待她们的房子，但这些男人和女人们都突破了审慎和传统的心里防线；好奇心不可抗拒地占了上风。

就连卡瓦尔康蒂和他的儿子（前者古板，后者轻浮，两个人也都不明白这次受邀请的用意）也和他们初次见面的那些人有着同样的感触。腾格拉尔夫人呢。当维尔福在伯爵的敦促之下把他的胳膊伸给她时候，不由得吃了一惊；而维尔福，当他感觉到男爵夫人的手挽上他自己的胳膊的时候，也觉得浑身有点不自在，自己的眼光也有点不安。这一切都没逃过伯爵的眼睛；仅以所接触的这些人物来讲，这个场面在一个旁观者眼里已经是够有趣的了。维尔福先生的右边是腾格拉尔夫人，他的左边是莫雷尔。伯爵坐在维尔福夫人和腾格拉尔之间，德布雷坐在卡瓦尔康蒂父子之间；夏多·勒诺则坐在维尔福夫人和莫雷尔之间。

席面上摆设得极其丰盛，基督山完全清除了巴黎式的情调，与其说他要喂饱他的客人，倒不如说他想喂饱了他们的好奇心更确切一些。他推出的是一桌东方式的酒席，而这种东方式的酒席也只有在阿拉伯童话故事里才会有。中国碟子和日本瓷盘里堆满着世界各地的四季鲜果。大银盆里盛着硕大无比的鱼；各种珍禽的身上依旧还保留着它们最鲜艳夺目的羽毛，外加各种美酒，有爱琴海出产的，小亚细亚出产的，好望角出产的，都装在奇形怪状的闪闪发光的瓶子里，似乎更增加了酒的香甜纯美。这一切，就象阿辟古斯［阿辟古斯是古代罗马奥古斯都时代的美食家。——译注］招待他宾客时一样，一齐罗列在了这些巴黎人的面前。他们知道：花一千路易来请十个人吃一顿原也是可能的，但那就得象喀丽奥伯德拉那样吃珍珠或象梅迪契那样喝金水才行。基督山注意到了大家那惊愕的表情，就戏谑地笑谈起来。“诸位先生，他说，“你们大概也承认，当一个人有了相当程度的财产以后，奢侈生活就成了必需的了。而太太们想必也承认当一个人，有了相当优越的地位以后，他的理想也才会越高。现在，站在这一种立场上来推测，什么东西才能称其为奇妙呢？那就是我们无法了解的东西。而什么东西才是我们真正想要的呢？就是我们无法得到的东西，嗯，研究我无法了解的事物，得到无法得到的东西，这就是我生活的目标。我是用两种工具来达到我的希望的——我的意志和我的金钱。我所追求的目标和诸位的有所不同，譬如您，腾格拉尔先生，希望修建一条新的铁路线，而您，维尔福先生，希望判处一个犯人死刑，您，德布雷先生，希望平定一个王国，您，夏多·勒诺先生，希望取悦一个女人，而您，莫雷尔，希望驯服一匹没有哪个人敢骑的马。尽管我们所追求的目标不同，但我追求我的目标的兴趣，却并不亚于你们。譬如说，请看这两条鱼吧。这一条从圣·彼得堡一百五十哩以外的地方买来的，那一条是在那不勒斯十五哩以内的地方买来的。现在看到它们摆在同一张桌子上，不很有趣吗？”

“这是两条什么鱼？”腾格拉尔问。

“夏多·勒诺先生曾在俄罗斯住过，想必他可以告诉您这条鱼的名字的。”基督山回答，“卡瓦尔康蒂少校是意大利人，想必他可以告诉您那一条的名字。”

“这一条，我想，是小蝶鲛。”夏多·勒诺说道。”

“而那一条，”卡瓦尔康蒂说，“假如我没认错的话，是蓝鳗。”

“正是。现在，腾格拉尔先生，问问这两位先生它们是从哪儿捉到的吧。”

“小蝶鲛，”夏多·勒诺说，“只有在伏尔加河里才找得到。”

 

 

“我知道，”卡瓦尔康蒂说，“只有富莎乐湖里才出产这么大的蓝鳗。”

“对，一条是从伏尔加河里打来的，一条是从富莎乐湖里捉来的，一点都不差。”

“不可能的！”来宾们齐声喊道。

“嗯，我觉得有趣的地方在这里，”基督山说道。“我就象尼罗王——一个‘不可能’的追求者，而你们现在觉得有趣也正因为如此。这种鱼，大概实际上并不比鲈鱼更好吃，但你们却好象觉得它很鲜美，那是因为你们觉得是不可能得到它的，而它却意想不到地在席上出现了。”

“您是怎么把这些鱼运到法国来的呢？”

“噢，那再容易不过了。把鱼分装在木桶里运。这只桶里装些河草，另一只桶里装些湖苹，然后把这些桶再装在一辆特制的大车上。这样，那小蝶鲛就活了十二天，蓝鳗活了八天。当我的厨子抓它们的时候，它们还活蹦乱跳的，他就用牛奶闷死了小蝶鲛，用酒醉死了蓝鳗，您不相信吧，腾格拉尔先生！”

“是有点怀疑。”腾格拉尔傻呼呼的笑着回答。

“巴浦斯汀，”伯爵吩咐道，“去把鱼拿来。就是养在桶里的那些活的小蝶鲛和蓝鳗。”腾格拉尔睁着一双迷惑的眼睛，其余的来宾也都紧握着双手。只见四个仆人扛着两只水面上浮着藻类植物的木桶走了进来，每只木桶里悠然地游着一条与席上同样的鱼。

“可为什么每样两条呢？”腾格拉尔问。

“只因为一条也许会死的。”基督山漫不经心地回答。

“您真是位奇人，”腾格拉尔说，“哲学家也许又可以振振有词地说了，有钱是一件可庆幸之事。”

“还得有脑筋。”腾格拉尔夫人加上了一句。

“噢，可别给我加上那种荣誉，夫人。这种事在罗马人眼里是很普通的。普林尼［普林尼（六二—一一三），罗马作家——译注］的书上曾说过，他们常常派奴隶头顶着活鱼从奥斯蒂亚运到罗马，他们把那种鱼叫作‘墨露斯’，从他的描写上来判断，大概就是鲷鱼。他们认为吃活鲷鱼也是一种奢侈。看着鲷鱼死是一件很有趣的事。因为它临死的时候，在被送进厨房以后，它会变三四次颜色，象彩虹似地依次变换。它的痛苦倒成了它的特点，假如它活着的时候没人注意，死后就不会那么了不起了。”

“是的，”德布雷说道，“可毕竟奥斯蒂亚距罗马才只有几哩路呀。”

“不错。”基督山说，“但我们距鲁古碌斯已有一千八百年了，假如我们不能比他更先进一步，那么做现代人还有什么好处呢？”

两个姓卡瓦尔康蒂几乎同时都睁大了眼睛，但他们还算知趣，没说什么话。

“这一切都是极不平凡的，”夏多·勒诺说，“而我最佩服的一点，我承认，就是他们竟能如此迅速地执行您的命令。您的这座房子不是五六天以前才买的吗？”

“是没几天时间。”

“我相信在这一个星期里，它已经大变了个样。假如我没记错的话，它另外还应该有一个入口，前面庭院里原是空无一物的，除了一条石子路之外，可今天我们却看到了一条美丽的青草走道，两旁的树木看起来就象是已长了一百年似的。”

“为什么不呢？我喜欢青草和树荫。”基督山说道。

“是的，”维尔福夫人说，“以前大门是朝着街的。我神奇地脱险的那天，您把我带进来的时候，我记得还是那样的。”

“是的，夫人，”基督山说，“但我想换一个进口，以便从大门口一望出去就可以看见布洛涅大道。”

“仅四天的工夫！”莫雷尔说，“这真可谓太不平凡了！”

“的确，”夏多·勒诺说，“把一座老宅子改造成了一座新房子真是一个了不起的成就。这座房子以前很旧，很阴沉可怖。我记得前两三年以前，当圣·梅朗先生登报出售的时候，我曾代家母前来看过。

“对·梅朗先生！”维尔福夫人说，“那么在您买这座房子以前，它是属于圣·梅朗先生的了？”

“好象是吧。”基督山回答。

“什么！‘好象’？难道您还不知道卖主是谁吗？”

“不，的确不知道，这笔交易是由我的管家全权代我办理的。”

“这座房子至少已有十年没人住过了，”夏多·勒诺说，“它外表看上去实在有点死气沉沉的，百叶窗总是都关着，门总锁着，庭园里长满了野草。真的，假如这座房子的房主不是检察官的岳父的话，人家或许会以为这里曾发生过某件可怕的罪案哩。”

到现在为止，维尔福对放在他前面的那三四杯珍奇美酒一点也没尝过，这时，他拿起了一杯，然后一饮而尽。基督山暂时让房间里静默了一会儿，然后说道：“这真奇怪，我初次踏进这座房子的时候，也曾有过那种感觉，它看起来是这样阴森森的，要不是我的管家已代我买了下来，我是决不会要它的。也许那家伙收受了中间人的贿赂。”

“也许是吧，”维尔福挣扎着说道，并极力想做出一点微笑来。“但请相信我，那件贿赂案跟我可毫无关系，这座房子也可以说是瓦朗蒂娜嫁妆的一部分的，圣·梅朗先生很想把它卖掉，因为再过一两年如果还不住人的话，它就会倒塌的。”

这次可轮到莫雷尔的脸色变白了。

“尤其是有这样一个房间，”基督山又说道，“它表面上看上去很平凡，挂着红缎子的窗帷，可是，不知为什么，我感觉得那个房间很有趣。”

“怎么会呢？德布雷说，“怎么有趣？”

“我们能把出于本能的感觉解释清楚吗？”基督山说，“我们在有些地方好象能呼吸到抑郁的气息，难道不是这样吗？可为什么？我们又讲不出来。只有某种持续不断的回忆或某个念头把你带回到了另一个时代，另一些方，而那多半或许和我们当时当地的情景并无什么关系。在那个房间里，总有某种什么强有力的东西使我联想到甘奇侯爵夫人［甘奇侯爵（一六三五—一六六七），法国贵族，被其丈夫的两个兄弟所谋杀。——译注］或德丝狄摩娜［莎士比亚悲剧《奥赛罗》里女主人公，被她的丈夫奥赛罗掐死。——译注］的房间。慢来！既然我们已经吃完了，还是由我来领着你们去看一下吧，看过以后我们就到花园里去喝咖啡，吃完了饭，应该去走走看看的。”

基督山以一种询问的目光望着他的客人们。维尔福夫人站起身来，基督山也站了起来，其余的人也象他们那样做了。

维尔福和腾格拉尔夫人则象脚下生了根似的在他们的座椅上犹豫了一会儿，他们互相以冷淡呆滞的眼光询问着对方。

“你听到了没有？”腾格拉尔夫人似乎在说。

“我们必须去。”维尔福好象在回答，然后伸手让她挽着。

其他的人都已经在好奇心的驱使下分散到了各处。为他们觉得这次参观不会仅限于这一个房间的，他们同时一定也可以参观其他的地方，借此机会看一看基督山是如何把他的房子变成一座宫殿的。每个人都从那几扇打开着的门那儿出去了。基督山等着那留下来的两位，当他们也从他身边走出去的时候，他便微笑着把自己排在了这个行列的最后。维尔福和腾格拉尔夫人当然并不明白伯爵那个微笑的含义，假如他们明白的话，一定会觉得比去参观那个他们就要走进去的房间更可怕。他们穿过一个又一个的房间，大多数房间的布置充满了东方情调，椅垫和靠背长椅代替了床，各色各样的烟管代替了家具。客厅里琳琅满目地挂着古代大画师们最珍贵的杰作；女宾休息室里挂满了中国的刺绣品，色彩玄妙，花样怪诞，质地极其名贵。最后，他们走进了那个著名的房间里。这个房间乍看起并没有什么特别值得注意的地方，只不过别的房间都已重新装饰过，而这里的一切却依然照旧，而且日光虽已消逝，房间里却还没有点灯。这两点已足够使人感到一种阴森可怖的气氛了。

“噢！”维尔福夫人喊道，“真可怕！”

腾格拉尔夫人勉强说了句什么，但没人听清她说的是什么。大家观察的结果，一致认为这个房间的确象一个不祥之地。

“难道不是吗？”基督山问道。“请看那张笨重的大床，挂着那顶阴气沉沉、血色的帐子！还有那两张因受潮已褪了色的粉笔人物画像，他们那苍白的嘴唇和那凝视着一切的眼睛不是象在说‘我们看到了’吗？”

维尔福的脸色煞白，腾格拉尔夫人则倒在一张壁炉旁边的长凳上。

“噢！”维尔福夫人微笑着说道，“您可真够大胆的了！也许那件罪案就发生在这张凳子上呢！”

腾格拉尔夫人闻听这句话突然一下子站了起来。

“哦，”基督山说，“事情还不仅仅如此呢。”

“还有什么？”德布雷问到，他也已注意到了腾格拉尔夫人那种不安的神态。“啊！还有什么？”腾格拉尔也问道，“因为到目前为止，我还不能说已看到了什么特别的东西。您说吧，卡瓦尔康蒂先生？”

“啊！他说道，“我们在比萨，有乌哥里诺塔［乌哥里诺塔是意大利比萨的暴君，被其敌人禁囚于塔内与儿孙们一起饿死了。——译注］，在弗拉拉，有达沙囚房［达沙是意大利文艺复兴诗人，住在弗拉拉，曾两次发疯遭囚禁。——译注］，在里米尼，有弗兰茜丝卡和保罗的房间［弗兰茜丝卡是十三世纪意大利有名的美人，保罗是她的情人，两人都被她的丈夫所杀。——译注］。”

“是啊，可你们却没有这种小楼梯吧，”基督山一边说，一边打开了一扇掩在帷幕后面的门。“请过来看看吧，然后再把你们的感想告诉我。”

“多难看的一座螺旋形楼梯。”夏多·勒诺带笑说道。

“我不知道究竟是不是因为喝了奇奥斯酒才产生了这种悲怆的气氛，但这屋子里一切在我看来都象是阴惨惨的。”德布雷说道。

自从听到提及瓦朗蒂娜的嫁妆以后，莫雷尔就始终满面愁容地没再说过一句话。

“我曾经做过幻想，”基督山说道，“是否以前曾有过一个奥赛罗似的人物，在一个狂风暴雨的黑夜里，一步步地走下这座楼梯，手里抱着一个尸体，想在黑夜里把它埋掉，这样，即使瞒不过上帝的眼睛，至少希望能瞒过人的耳目，不知你们是否有同感？”

腾格拉尔夫人一下子半晕倒在维尔福的臂弯里，维尔福本人也不得不靠在墙壁上，以支撑着他自己。

“啊，夫人！”德布雷惊叫道，“您怎么啦？您脸色多苍白呀！”

“怎么样？这很简单，”维尔福夫人说道，“基督山先生在给我们讲恐怖故事，无疑是想吓死我们。”

“是啊，”维尔福说道，“真的，伯爵，您把太太们都吓坏了。”

“怎么了？”德布雷用耳语问腾格拉尔夫人。

“没什么，”她勉强回答说。“我想出去透透空气！没别的。”

“我陪您到花园里去好不好？”德布雷一边说着，一边就向暗梯那边走去。

“不，不！”她急忙说道，“我情愿呆在这儿。”

“您真的吓坏了吗，夫人？”基督山说。

“噢，不，阁下，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，“只不过您讲得绘声绘色的，把您想象中的情景讲述得太象真的了。”

“啊，是的！”基督山微笑着说，“这些都只是我想象中的事情。我们为什么不能想象成这是一个贞节的良家妇女的房间，这张挂红帐子的床，是送子娘娘访问过的床，而那座神秘的楼梯，是为了避免打扰她们母子的睡眠，供医生和护士上下使用的，或者是供那做父亲的来抱睡着了的孩子使用的？”

“听到这一幅可喜的画面，腾格拉尔夫人非但没有镇定下来，反而呻吟了一声，然后就昏了过去。

“腾格拉尔夫人一定是病了，”维尔福说道，“还是送她回到她的马车里去吧。”

“噢！我忘带我的嗅瓶啦！”基督山说道。

“我这儿有。”维尔福夫人说，她拿出一只瓶子来递给了基督山，瓶子里满满地装着伯爵给爱德华尝过的那种红色药水。

“啊！”基督山说着就从她的手里把药瓶接了过来。

“是的，”她说道，“我遵从您的忠告已经试过了。”

“成功了没有？”

“我想是成功的。”

腾格拉尔夫人已被扶到了隔壁的房间里。基督山把那种红色药水滴了极小的一滴到她的嘴唇上，她便恢复知觉了。

“啊！”她大声说道，“多可怕的一个梦啊！”

维尔福捏了一下她的手，让她明白这并非是一个梦。有人去找腾格拉尔先生了，因他对于这种诗意的想象不感兴趣，所以早已到花园里去和卡瓦尔康蒂少校谈论从里窝那到佛罗伦萨的修建铁路的计划去了。基督山似乎很有些失望。他挽起腾格拉尔夫人的手臂，引导她到了花园里，发觉腾格拉尔正在和那两个姓卡瓦尔康蒂的一同喝咖啡。“夫人，”他说道，“我真的吓坏了您吗？”

“噢，没有，阁下，”她回答，“但您知道，由于我们每个人的情绪变化有所不同，所以事物对我们所产生的印象也就不同了。”

维尔福勉强笑了一声。“有时候，您知道，”他说，“只要一个念头或一个想象就足够了。”

“噢，”基督山说道，“信不信由你们，但我是确信这间屋子里曾发生过一件罪案的。”

“小心哪！”维尔福夫人说道，“检察官可在这儿呢。”

“啊！”基督山答道，“既然如此，我就乘便在他面前提出我的起诉好了。”

“您的起诉！”维尔福说道。

“是的，而且还有证据。”

“噢，这真有趣极了，”德布雷说，“假如真的发生过罪案，我们不妨来调查一下。”

“的确是发生过罪案的，”基督山说道。“这边来，诸位，来，维尔福先生，因为要起诉就得在有关当局的面前起诉才能奏效。”于是他挽住维尔福的手臂，同时仍挽着腾格拉尔夫人，拖着检察官向那棵处在荫影最深处的梧桐树走过去。其他的来宾都跟在后面。“喏，”基督山说，“这里，就在这个地方（他用脚顿了顿地面），我因为想给这些老树增添一点新鲜活力，就叫人把这儿的泥土挖起来，加些新土进去。呃，他的挖土的时候发现了一只木箱子，说得确切些，是一只包了铁皮的木箱子，箱子里有一具初生不久的婴儿的尸骨。”

基督山直觉得腾格拉尔夫人的手臂在发僵，而维尔福的则在发抖。

“一个初生不久的婴儿！”雷布雷说道，“见鬼！我看这事倒真的严重起来啦！”

“唉，”夏多·勒诺说，“我刚才没说错吧。我说：房屋也象人一样的，有灵魂，有面孔，而人们的外表就是其内心的表现。这座房子之所以阴森可怖，就是因为它看了令人难过，而它之所以看了令人难过，就是因为它包藏着一件罪案。”

“谁说这是一件罪案？”维尔福挣扎起最后一点力气问道。

“什么！把一个孩子活埋在花园里难道还不算犯罪吗？”基督山大声说道。“请问，您把这样一种行为叫做什么呢？”

“谁说是活埋的？”

“假如是死的，干嘛要埋在这儿呢？这个花园从未当坟地用过呀。”

“杀害婴儿在法国要算是什么罪？”卡瓦尔康蒂少校无意地问道。

“噢，杀头。”腾格拉尔说道。

“啊，真的！”卡瓦尔康蒂说。

“我想是的吧。我说得对吗，维尔福先生？”基督山问。

“是的，伯爵。”维尔福回答，但他此时的声音简直不象是人声了。

基督山看到那两个人对于他所精心准备的这个场面都已再也忍受不了，也就不再穷追下去了，于是便说：“来吧，诸位，去喝点咖啡吧，我们好象把它给忘啦。”于是他又引着来宾们回到了草地上的桌子旁边。

“伯爵，”腾格拉尔夫人说道，“说来真是难为情，可您那些吓人的故事说得我难受极了，所以我必须请求您允许我坐下来。”于是她倒入了一张椅子里。

基督山鞠了一躬，走到了维尔福夫人面前。“我想腾格拉尔夫人大概又需要用一下您那只瓶子了。”他说道。

在维尔福夫人还没走到她朋友的身边以前，检察官已乘机对腾格拉尔夫人耳语了一句：“我必须和您谈一次。”

“什么时候？”

“明天。”

“在哪儿？”

“请到我的办室里来，那是最安全的地方。”

“我一定去。”这时，维尔福夫人过来了。“谢谢，亲爱的，”

腾格拉尔夫人说，并极力想装出一个笑容。“都已经过去了，现在觉得好多了。”

上一篇：基督山伯爵（The Count of Monte Cristo）第六十二章　幽灵 下一篇：基督山伯爵（The Count of Monte Cristo）第六十四章　乞丐