This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public Germain. For mon information not a volunteer, please visit LibriVox Dog recorded by Monte Capreuse, London, December two thousand and six. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandro Dumin, chapter one hundred and nine. The assizes. The Benedetto affair, as it was called it the Palais and by people in general, had produced a tremendous sensation, frequenting the Cafe de Paris, the Boulevard Dugon,
and the Bois de Boulogne. During his brief career of splendor, the false Cavalcanti had formed a host of acquaintances. The papers had related his various adventures, both as the man of fashion and the galley slave, and as every one who had been personally acquainted with Prince Andrea Cavalcanti experienced a lively curiosity in its fate. They all determined to spare no trouble in endeavoring to wisitness the
trial of Monsieur Benedetto for the murder of his comrade in chains. In the eyes of many, Benedetto appeared, if not a victim too, at least an instance of the fallibility of the law. Monsieur Cavalcanti, his father, had been seen in Paris, and it was expected that he would reappear to
claim the illustrious outcast. Many also, who were not aware of the circumstances, attending his withdrawal from Paris, was struck with the worthy appearance, the gentlemanly bearing, and the knowledge of the world displayed by the old patrician, who certainly played the nobleman very well, so long as he said nothing and
made no arithmetical calculations. As for the accused himself, many remembered him as being so amiable, so handsome, and so liberal, that they chose to think him the victim of some conspiracy, Since in this world large fortunes were pretty quently excite the malevolence and jealousy of some unknown enemy. Everyone therefore ran to the court, some to witness the sight, others to comment upon it.
From seven o'clock on the morning a crowd was stationed at the iron gates, and an hour before the trial commenced, the whole was full of the privilege before the entrance of the magistrates, and indeed frequently afterwards a court of justice on days when some especial trial is to take place, who is almost a drawing room where many persons recognize each other and converse, if they can do so without losing their seats, or if they are separated by your greater
number of lawyers, communicate by signs. It was one of the magnificent autumn days which make amends for a short summer. The clouds which Monsieur de Villefort perceived at sunrise had all disappeared, as if by magic, and one of the softest and most brilliant days of September shan forth in all its splendor. Beauchamp, one of the kings of the press and therefore claiming the right of
a throne everywhere, was eyeing everybody through his monocle. He perceived Chateau, Renaud and Debray, who had just gained the good graces of a sergeant at arms, and who had persuaded the latter to let them stand before instead of behind him, as they ought to have done. The worthy sergeant had recognized the minister's secretary and the millionaire, and, by way of paying extra attention to his noble neighbors, promised to keep their places while they paid a visit
to Beauchamp. Well, said Beauchamp, we shall see our friend. Yes, indeed, replied Debray, that worthy prince dus take those Italian princes a man too who could boast have done te for a genealogist, and could reckon back to the divine comedy the nobility of the robe, said chateau renauphlegmatically. He will be condemned, will he not, asked debris of Beauchamp. My
dear fellow, I think we should ask you that question. You know such news much better than we do. Did you see the President at the minister's last night? Yes? What did he say something which will surprise you? Oh? Make haste and tell me then it is a long time since that has happened. Well, he told me that Benedetto, who is considered a serpent of subtlety and a giant of cunning, is really but a very commonplace silly rascal, are altogether unworthy of the experiments that will be made on his
phrenological organs after his death. Bah, said Beauchamp. He played the prince very well. Yes, for you who detest those unhappy princess Beauchamp, and are always delighted to find fault with him. But not for me, who discovered gentlemen by instinct, and who sent out an aristocratic family like a very bloodhound of heraldry. Then you never believed in the principality, Yes, and the principality, but not in the prince. Not so bad, said Beauchamp.
Still, I assure you he passed very well with many people. I saw him at the minister's houses. Ah, yes, said chateau Remond. The idea of thinking ministers understand anything about princess Something in what you have just said, said Beauchamp, laughing. But said de Brito Beauchamp, if I spoke to the President, you must have been with the proco. It was an impossibility. For the last week, Monsieur de Villefort has secluded himself.
It is naturally enough, this strange chain of domestic afflictions followed by the no less strange death of his daughter. Strange. What do you mean, Beauchamp? Oh? Yes, Do you pretend that all this has been unobserved at the ministers, said Beauchamp, placing his eyeglass in his eye where he tried to make it remain. My dear sir, said chateau Remond. Allow me to tell you that you do understand that maneuver with the eyeglass half the wall as debris. Give him a lesson, Debris, stay, said Bauchon.
Surely I am not deceived. What is it? It is she? Who do you mean? They said she had left Mademoiselle Eugenie, said chateau Renond, as she returned. No, but her mother, Madame Danglars. Nonsense, impossible, said chateau Renond, Only ten days after the flight of her daughter and three days from the bankruptcy of her husband. Debris colleed slightly and
followed with his eyes the direction of Beauchamon's glance. Come, he said, it is only a veiled lady, some foreign princess, perhaps some mother of Cavalcanti. But you were just speaking on a very interesting topic, Bouchon. I yes, you were telling us about the extraordinary death of Volunteine. Ah. Yes, so I was. But how is it that Madame de Villefort's not here, Poor dear woman, said Debray. She is no doubt occupied
and distilling balm for the hospitals. On making cosmetics for herself or friends. Do you know she spends two or three thousand crowns a year in this amusement. But I wonder she is not here. I should have been pleased to see her, for I like her very much, and I hate her, said chateau Renaud. Why I do not know? Way do be love? Where do we hate? I detest her from antipathy, or rather by instinct,
perhaps so. But you return to what you are saying, Beauchamp, Well, do you know why they die so multitudinously at Monsieur de Villefort's. Multitudinously is good, said chateau Renaud. My good fellow, you'll find the word at Saint Cyment. But the thing itself, said Monsieur de Villefort's. But let's get back to the subject. Targing of that, said Debray. Madame Mooise making inquiries about that house, which for the last three months has
been hung with black Who is madame, asked chateau Renaud. The minister's wife, Pardieu, Oh, your pardon, I'll have a visit Minister's I'll leave that to the princess. Really, you were only before sparkling, but now you are brilliant, take compassion on us, or like Jupiter, you will whither us up. I will not speak again, said Chateau Renaud. Pray have compassion upon me. I do not take up every word I say.
Come, let us endeavor to get to the end of a story. Beauchamp, I told you that yesterday Madame made inquiries of me upon the subject. Enlighten me. Now will then communicate my information to her. Well, gentlemen, the reason people die so multitudinously are like the word at Monsieur de Beouforre's is that there is an assassin in the house. The two young men shuddered, for the same idea had more than once occurred to them. And who
is the assassin? They asked together, Young Edward. A burst of laughter from the auditors did not in the least disconcert and speaker, who continued, Yes, gentleman Edward, the infant phenomenon, who is quite an adept in the art of killing, you are jesting not at all. I yesterday engaged the servant who had just left Monsieur de Villefort. I intend sending him away to morrow, for he eats so enormously to make up for the fast impost upon him by his terror in that house. Well, now listen, we
are listening. It appears the child has obtained possession of a bottle containing some drug, which he every now and then uses against those who have displeased him. First, Monsieur Madame de Saint Meran incurred his displeasure, so he poured out three drops off as elixir. Three drops were sufficient. Then followed Bauois, the old servant of Monsieur Noirtier, who sometimes rebuffed this little wretch. He therefore received the same quantity of the elixir. The same happened to volunt
Tina, of whom he was jealous. He gave her the same dose as the others, and all was over for her, as well as the rest. Why what nonsense are you telling us, said chateau Renaud. Yes, it is an extraordinary story, said Beauchamp. Is it not that is absurd? Said debray. Ah, said Beauchamp, you doubt me, well, you can ask my servant, or rather him who will no longer be my servant to morrow. It was the talk of the house, and this elixir, where is it? What is it? The child conceals it, But
where did he find it in his mother's laboratory. Does his mother then keep poisons in her laboratory? How can I tell? You are questioning me like a king's attane. I only repeat what I have been told. Unlike my informant, I can do no more. The poor devil would eat nothing from fear. It is incredible. No, my dear fellow, it is not at all incredible. You saw the child pass through the ruigh Louis last year who amused himself with killing his brothers and sisters for sticking pins in their ears
while they have slept. The generation of followers are very precautious. Come Beauchamp, said chateau Renaud. I will bet anything you do not believe a word of all you have been telling us. I do not see the Count of Monte Cristo here. He's worn out, said DeBras. Besides, he could not well appear in public since he has been the dupe of the Cavalcanti, who it appears presented themselves to him with false letters of credit, and she
did him out of a hundred thousand francs. Upon the hypothesis of this principality, by the way, Monsieur de Chateaur Renond, asked Beauchamp, house morel mavoi. I have called three times without one seeing him. Still, his sister did not seem uneasy and told me that though she had not seen him for two or three days, she was sure he was well. Ah, now I think of it. The Count of de Cristo cannot appear in the hall, said Beauchamp. Why not because he is an actor in the drama.
Has he assassinated anyone then? Nor, on the contrary, they wished to assassinate him. You know that it was in leaving his house that Monsieur de Cardus was murdered by his friend Benedetto. You know that the famous waistcoat was found in his house containing the letter which stopped the signature of the marriage contract. Do you see the waistcoat there? It is all blood stained on the desk, as a testimony of the crime. Ah, very good,
Hush, gentleman, here's the court. Let us go back to her places. A noise was heard in the hall. The sergeant called his two patrons with an energetic ham, and the doorkeeper, appearing, called out with that shrill voice peculiar to his order. Ever since the days of Beaumarchais, the court Gentleman, end of Chapter one hundred and nine,