defended the unfortunate boy, good advice, and as she confessed
that she had several times missed money to a considerable amount, I
showed her a safe place in which to conceal our little treasure for
the future. My mind was already made up. Benedetto could read,
write, and cipher perfectly, for when the fit seized him, he
learned more in a day than others in a week. My intention was to
enter him as a clerk in some ship, and without letting him know
anything of my plan, to convey him some morning on board; by this
means his future treatment would depend upon his own conduct. I set
off for France, after having fixed upon the plan. Our cargo was to
be landed in the Gulf of Lyons, and this was a difficult thing to
do because it was then the year 1829. The most perfect tranquillity
was restored, and the vigilance of the custom-house officers was
redoubled, and their strictness was increased at this time, in
consequence of the fair at Beaucaire.
"Our expedition made a favorable beginning. We anchored our
vessel — which had a double hold, where our goods were concealed —
amidst a number of other vessels that bordered the banks of the
Rhone from Beaucaire to Arles. On our arrival we began to discharge
our cargo in the night, and to convey it into the town, by the help
of the inn-keeper with whom we were connected. Whether success
rendered us imprudent, or whether we were betrayed, I know not; but
one evening, about five o'clock, our little cabin-boy came
breathlessly, to inform us that he had seen a detachment of
custom-house officers advancing in our direction. It was not their
proximity that alarmed us, for detachments were constantly
patrolling along the banks of the Rhone, but the care, according to
the boy's account, that they took to avoid being seen. In an
instant we were on the alert, but it was too late; our vessel was
surrounded, and amongst the custom-house officers I observed
several gendarmes, and, as terrified at the sight of their uniforms
as I was brave at the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold,as I was brave at the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold,
opened a port, and dropped into the river, dived, and only rose at
intervals to breathe, until I reached a ditch that had recently
been made from the Rhone to the canal that runs from Beaucaire to
Aigues-Mortes. I was now safe, for I could swim along the ditch
without being seen, and I reached the canal in safety. I had
designedly taken this direction. I have already told your
excellency of an inn-keeper from Nimes who had set up a little
tavern on the road from Bellegarde to Beaucaire."
"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I perfectly recollect him; I think he
was your colleague."
"Precisely," answered Bertuccio; "but he had, seven or eight
years before this period, sold his establishment to a tailor at
Marseilles, who, having almost ruined himself in his old trade,
wished to make his fortune in another. Of course, we made the same
arrangements with the new landlord that we had with the old; and it
was of this man that I intended to ask shelter."
"What was his name?" inquired the count, who seemed to become
somewhat interested in Bertuccio's story.
"Gaspard Caderousse; he had married a woman from the village of
Carconte, and whom we did not know by any other name than that of
her village. She was suffering from malarial fever, and seemed
dying by inches. As for her husband, he was a strapping fellow of
forty, or five and forty, who had more than once, in time of
danger, given ample proof of his presence of mind and courage."
"And you say," interrupted Monte Cristo "that this took place
towards the year" —
"1829, your excellency."
"In what month?"
"June."
"The beginning or the end?"
"The evening of the 3d."
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "the evening of the 3d of June, 1829. Go
on."
"It was from Caderousse that I intended demanding shelter, and,
as we never entered by the door that opened onto the road, I
resolved not to break through the rule, so climbing over the
garden-hedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild fig trees, andgarden-hedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild fig trees, and
fearing that Caderousse might have some guest, I entered a kind of
shed in which I had often passed the night, and which was only
separated from the inn by a partition, in which holes had been made
in order to enable us to watch an opportunity of announcing our
presence. My intention was, if Caderousse was alone, to acquaint
him with my presence, finish the meal the custom-house officers had
interrupted, and profit by the threatened storm to return to the
Rhone, and ascertain the state of our vessel and its crew. I
stepped into the shed, and it was fortunate I did so, for at that
moment Caderousse entered with a stranger.
"I waited patiently, not to overhear what they said, but because
I could do nothing else; besides, the same thing had occurred often
before. The man who was with Caderousse was evidently a stranger to
the South of France; he was one of those merchants who come to sell
jewellery at the Beaucaire fair, and who during the month the fair
lasts, and during which there is so great an influx of merchants
and customers from all parts of Europe, often have dealings to the
amount of 100,000 to 150,000 francs. Caderousse entered hastily.
Then, seeing that the room was, as usual, empty, and only guarded
by the dog, he called to his wife, `Hello, Carconte,' said he, `the
worthy priest has not deceived us; the diamond is real.' An
exclamation of joy was heard, and the staircase creaked beneath a
feeble step. `What do you say?' asked his wife, pale as death.
"`I say that the diamond is real, and that this gentleman, one
of the first jewellers of Paris, will give us 50,000 francs for it.
Only, in order to satisfy himself that it really belongs to us, he
wishes you to relate to him, as I have done already, the miraculous
manner in which the diamond came into our possession. In the
meantime please to sit down, monsieur, and I will fetch you some
refreshment.' The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the