BLTC Press Titles


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Novalis Including Hymns to the Night

Novalis, George MacDonald, Thomas Carlyle


The Secret Doctrine, Volume II Anthropogenesis

H. P. Blavatsky


The Pictorial Key to the Tarot

Arthur Edward Waite


Mortal Coils

Aldous Huxley


Dumas' Romances: The Count of Monte Cristo

by Alexandre Dumas

Excerpt:

"M.l'Abbe, help! help!"

"What is the matter?" asked Monte-Cristo.

"Help!" cried Caderousse; "I am murdered!"

"We are here—take courage!"

"Ah! it's all over! You are come too late—you are come to see me die. What blows! what blood!"

He fainted.

Ali and his master conveyed the wounded man into a room. Monte-Cristo motioned to Ali to undress him, and he then examined his dreadful wounds.

"My God!" he exclaimed, "thy vengeance is sometimes delayed, but only that it may fall the more effectually."

Ali looked at his master for further instructions.

"Conduct here immediately the procureur du roi, M. de Villefort, who lives in the Faubourg St. Honore. As you pass the lodge, wake the porter, and send him for a surgeon."

Ali obeyed, leaving the abbe alone with Caderousse, who had not yet revived.

When the wretched man again opened his eyes, the count looked at him with a mournful expression of pity, and his lips moved as if in prayer.

"A surgeon, M. l'Abbe—a surgeon!" said Caderousse"I have sent for one," replied the abbe.

"I know he cannot save my life, but he may strengthen me to give my evidence."

"Against whom?"

"Against my murderer."

"Did you recognize him?"

"Yes—it was Benedetto."

"The young Corsican?"

"Himself."

"Your comrade?"

"Yes. After giving me the plan of this house, doubtless hoping I should kill the count and he thus become his heir, or that the count would kill me and I should be out of his way, he waylaid me, and has murdered me."

"I have also sent for the procureur du roi."

"He will not come in time; I feel my life fast ebbing."

"Stop!" said Monte-Cristo.

He left the room, and returned in five minutes with a vial.

The dying man's eyes were all the time riveted on the door, through which he hoped succor would arrive.

"Hasten, M. l'Abbe—hasten! I shall faint again!"

Monte-Cristo approached, and dropped on his purple lips three or four drops of the contents of the vial. Caderousse drew a deep breath.

"Oh!" said he, "that is life to me; more, more!"

"Two drops more would kill you," replied the abbe.

"Oh, send for some one to whom I can denounce the wretch!"

"Shall I write your deposition? You can sign it."

"Yes, yes," said Caderousse; and his eyes glistened at the thought of this posthumous revenge.

Monte-Cristo wrote:

"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 the bed, saying,—

"You will relate all the rest, M. l'Abbe; you will say he calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti. He lodges at the Hotel des Princes. Oh, I am dying!"

He again fainted.

The abbe made him smell the contents of the vial, and he again opened his eyes. His desire for revenge had not forsaken him.

"Ah! you will tell all I have said: will you not, M. l'Abbe?"

"Yes, and much more."

"What more will you say?"

"I will say he had doubtless given you the plan of this house, in the hope the count would kill you. I will say, likewise, he had apprised the count, by a note, of your intention; and the count being absent, I read the note, and sat up to await you."

"And he will be guillotined, will he not?" said Caderousse. "Promise me that, and I will die with that hope."


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