"Explain yourself."
"I will do so. If Beauchamp be disposed to retract, you ought at least
to give him the opportunity of doing it of his own free will,--the
satisfaction to you will be the same. If, on the contrary, he refuses
to do so, it will then be quite time enough to admit two strangers into
your secret."
"They will not be strangers, they will be friends."
"Ah, but the friends of to-day are the enemies of to-morrow; Beauchamp,
for instance."
"So you recommend"--
"I recommend you to be prudent."
"Then you advise me to go alone to Beauchamp?"
"I do, and I will tell you why. When you wish to obtain some concession
from a man's self-love, you must avoid even the appearance of wishing to
wound it."
"I believe you are right."
"I am glad of it."
"Then I will go alone."
"Go; but you would do better still by not going at all."
"That is impossible."
"Do so, then; it will be a wiser plan than the first which you
proposed."
"But if, in spite of all my precautions, I am at last obliged to fight,
will you not be my second?"
"My dear viscount," said Monte Cristo gravely, "you must have seen
before to-day that at all times and in all places I have been at your
disposal, but the service which you have just demanded of me is one
which it is out of my power to render you."
"Why?"
"Perhaps you may know at some future period, and in the mean time
I request you to excuse my declining to put you in possession of my
reasons."
"Well, I will have Franz and Chateau-Renaud; they will be the very men
for it."
"Do so, then."
"But if I do fight, you will surely not object to giving me a lesson or
two in shooting and fencing?"
"That, too, is impossible."
"What a singular being you are!--you will not interfere in anything."
"You are right--that is the principle on which I wish to act."
"We will say no more about it, then. Good-by, count." Morcerf took his
hat, and left the room. He found his carriage at the door, and doing his
utmost to restrain his anger he went at once to find Beauchamp, who
was in his office. It was a gloomy, dusty-looking apartment, such as
journalists' offices have always been from time immemorial. The servant
announced M. Albert de Morcerf. Beauchamp repeated the name to himself,
as though he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright, and then
gave orders for him to be admitted. Albert entered. Beauchamp uttered an
exclamation of surprise on seeing his friend leap over and trample under
foot all the newspapers which were strewed about the room. "This way,
this way, my dear Albert!" said he, holding out his hand to the young
man. "Are you out of your senses, or do you come peaceably to take
breakfast with me? Try and find a seat--there is one by that geranium,
which is the only thing in the room to remind me that there are other
leaves in the world besides leaves of paper."
"Beauchamp," said Albert, "it is of your journal that I come to speak."
"Indeed? What do you wish to say about it?"
"I desire that a statement contained in it should be rectified."
"To what do you refer? But pray sit down."
"Thank you," said Albert, with a cold and formal bow.
"Will you now have the kindness to explain the nature of the statement
which has displeased you?"
"An announcement has been made which implicates the honor of a member of
my family."
"What is it?" said Beauchamp, much surprised; "surely you must be
mistaken."
"The story sent you from Yanina."
"Yanina?"
"Yes; really you appear to be totally ignorant of the cause which brings
me here."
"Such is really the case, I assure you, upon my honor! Baptiste, give me
yesterday's paper," cried Beauchamp.
"Here, I have brought mine with me," replied Albert.
Beauchamp took the paper, and read the article to which Albert pointed
in an undertone. "You see it is a serious annoyance," said Morcerf, when
Beauchamp had finished the perusal of the paragraph. "Is the officer
referred to a relation of yours, then?" demanded the journalist.
"Yes," said Albert, blushing.
"Well, what do you wish me to do for you?" said Beauchamp mildly.
"My dear Beauchamp, I wish you to contradict this statement." Beauchamp
looked at Albert with a benevolent expression.
"Come," said he, "this matter will want a good deal of talking over; a
retractation is always a serious thing, you know. Sit down, and I will
read it again." Albert resumed his seat, and Beauchamp read, with more
attention than at first, the lines denounced by his friend. "Well," said
Albert in a determined tone, "you see that your paper his insulted a
member of my family, and I insist on a retractation being made."
"You insist?"
"Yes, I insist."
"Permit me to remind you that you are not in the Chamber, my dear
Viscount."
"Nor do I wish to be there," replied the young man, rising. "I repeat
that I am determined to have the announcement of yesterday contradicted.
You have known me long enough," continued Albert, biting his lips
convulsively, for he saw that Beauchamp's anger was beginning to
rise,--"you have been my friend, and therefore sufficiently intimate
with me to be aware that I am likely to maintain my resolution on this
point."
"If I have been your friend, Morcerf, your present manner of speaking
would almost lead me to forget that I ever bore that title. But wait a
moment, do not let us get angry, or at least not yet. You are irritated
and vexed--tell me how this Fernand is related to you?"
"He is merely my father," said Albert--"M. Fernand Mondego, Count of
Morcerf, an old soldier who has fought in twenty battles and whose
honorable scars they would denounce as badges of disgrace."
"Is it your father?" said Beauchamp; "that is quite another thing. Then
can well understand your indignation, my dear Albert. I will look at it
again;" and he read the paragraph for the third time, laying a stress
on each word as he proceeded. "But the paper nowhere identifies this
Fernand with your father."
"No; but the connection will be seen by others, and therefore I will
have the article contradicted." At the words "I will," Beauchamp
steadily raised his eyes to Albert's countenance, and then as gradually
lowering them, he remained thoughtful for a few moments. "You will
retract this assertion, will you not, Beauchamp?" said Albert with
increased though stifled anger.
"Yes," replied Beauchamp.
"Immediately?" said Albert.
"When I am convinced that the statement is false."
"What?"
"The thing is worth looking into, and I will take pains to investigate
the matter thoroughly."
"But what is there to investigate, sir?" said Albert, enraged beyond
measure at Beauchamp's last remark. "If you do not believe that it is my
father, say so immediately; and if, on the contrary, you believe it to
be him, state your reasons for doing so." Beauchamp looked at Albert
with the smile which was so peculiar to him, and which in its numerous
modifications served to express every varied emotion of his mind. "Sir,"
replied he, "if you came to me with the idea of demanding satisfaction,
you should have gone at once to the point, and not have entertained me
with the idle conversation to which I have been patiently listening for
the last half hour. Am I to put this construction on your visit?"
"Yes, if you will not consent to retract that infamous calumny."
"Wait a moment--no threats, if you please, M. Fernand Mondego, Vicomte
de Morcerf; I never allow them from my enemies, and therefore shall not
put up with them from my friends. You insist on my contradicting the
article relating to General Fernand, an article with which, I assure you
on my word of honor, I had nothing whatever to do?"
"Yes, I insist on it," said Albert, whose mind was beginning to get
bewildered with the excitement of his feelings.
"And if I refuse to retract, you wish to fight, do you?" said Beauchamp
in a calm tone.
"Yes," replied Albert, raising his voice.
"Well," said Beauchamp, "here is my answer, my dear sir. The article
was not inserted by me--I was not even aware of it; but you have, by the
step you have taken, called my attention to the paragraph in question,
and it will remain until it shall be either contradicted or confirmed by
some one who has a right to do so."
"Sir," said Albert, rising, "I will do myself the honor of sending my
seconds to you, and you will be kind enough to arrange with them the
place of meeting and the weapons."
"Certainly, my dear sir."
"And this evening, if you please, or to-morrow at the latest, we will
meet."
"No, no, I will be on the ground at the proper time; but in my opinion
(and I have a right to dictate the preliminaries, as it is I who have
received the provocation)--in my opinion the time ought not to be yet.
I know you to be well skilled in the management of the sword, while I am
only moderately so; I know, too, that you are a good marksman--there we
are about equal. I know that a duel between us two would be a serious
affair, because you are brave, and I am brave also. I do not therefore
wish either to kill you, or to be killed myself without a cause. Now, I
am going to put a question to you, and one very much to the purpose too.
Do you insist on this retractation so far as to kill me if I do not make
it, although I have repeated more than once, and affirmed on my honor,
that I was ignorant of the thing with which you charge me, and although
I still declare that it is impossible for any one but you to recognize
the Count of Morcerf under the name of Fernand?"
"I maintain my original resolution."
"Very well, my dear sir; then I consent to cut throats with you. But I
require three weeks' preparation; at the end of that time I shall come
and say to you, 'The assertion is false, and I retract it,' or 'The
assertion is true,' when I shall immediately draw the sword from its
sheath, or the pistols from the case, whichever you please."
"Three weeks!" cried Albert; "they will pass as slowly as three
centuries when I am all the time suffering dishonor."
"Had you continued to remain on amicable terms with me, I should have
said, 'Patience, my friend;' but you have constituted yourself my enemy,
therefore I say, 'What does that signify to me, sir?'"
"Well, let it be three weeks then," said Morcerf; "but remember, at the
expiration of that time no delay or subterfuge will justify you in"--
"M. Albert de Morcerf," said Beauchamp, rising in his turn, "I cannot
throw you out of window for three weeks--that is to say, for twenty-four
days to come--nor have you any right to split my skull open till that
time has elapsed. To-day is the 29th of August; the 21st of September
will, therefore, be the conclusion of the term agreed on, and till that
time arrives--and it is the advice of a gentleman which I am about to
give you--till then we will refrain from growling and barking like two
dogs chained within sight of each other." When he had concluded his
speech, Beauchamp bowed coldly to Albert, turned his back upon him, and
went to the press-room.
Albert vented his anger on a pile of newspapers, which he sent flying
all over the office by switching them violently with his stick; after
which ebullition he departed--not, however, without walking several
times to the door of the press-room, as if he had half a mind to enter.
While Albert was lashing the front of his carriage in the same manner
that he had the newspapers which were the innocent agents of his
discomfiture, as he was crossing the barrier he perceived Morrel, who
was walking with a quick step and a bright eye. He was passing the
Chinese Baths, and appeared to have come from the direction of the Porte
Saint-Martin, and to be going towards the Madeleine. "Ah," said Morcerf,
"there goes a happy man!" And it so happened Albert was not mistaken in
his opinion.
Chapter 79. The Lemonade.
Morrel was, in fact, very happy. M. Noirtier had just sent for him, and
he was in such haste to know the reason of his doing so that he had not
stopped to take a cab, placing infinitely more dependence on his own two
legs than on the four legs of a cab-horse. He had therefore set off at
a furious rate from the Rue Meslay, and was hastening with rapid strides
in the direction of the Faubourg Saint-Honore. Morrel advanced with
a firm, manly tread, and poor Barrois followed him as he best might.
Morrel was only thirty-one, Barrois was sixty years of age; Morrel was
deeply in love, and Barrois was dying with heat and exertion. These
two men, thus opposed in age and interests, resembled two parts of
a triangle, presenting the extremes of separation, yet nevertheless
possessing their point of union. This point of union was Noirtier, and
it was he who had just sent for Morrel, with the request that the latter
would lose no time in coming to him--a command which Morrel obeyed to
the letter, to the great discomfiture of Barrois. On arriving at the
house, Morrel was not even out of breath, for love lends wings to our
desires; but Barrois, who had long forgotten what it was to love, was
sorely fatigued by the expedition he had been constrained to use.
The old servant introduced Morrel by a private entrance, closed the door
