THE DAY following this scene, at the hour the banker usually chose to pay a visit to Madame Danglars on his way to his office, his coupé did not appear. At this time, that is, about half-past twelve, Madame Danglars ordered her carriage, and went out. Danglars, hidden behind a curtain, watched the departure he had been waiting for. He gave orders that he should be informed as soon as Madame Danglars appeared; but at two o'clock she had not returned. He then called for his horses, drove to the Chamber, and inscribed his name to speak against the budget. From twelve to two o'clock Danglars had remained in his study, unsealing his dispatches, and becoming more and more sad every minute, heaping figure upon figure, and receiving, among other visits, one from Major Cavalcanti, who, as stiff and exact as ever, presented himself precisely at the hour named the night before, to terminate his business with the banker. On leaving the Chamber, Danglars, who had shown violent marks of agitation during the sitting, and been more bitter than ever against the ministry, re-entered his carriage, and told the coachman to drive to the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, No. 30.
Monte Cristo was at home; only he was engaged with some one and begged Danglars to wait for a moment in the drawing-room. While the banker was waiting in the anteroom, the door opened, and a man dressed as an abbé and doubtless more familiar with the house than he was, came in and instead of waiting, merely bowed, passed on to the farther apartments, and disappeared. A minute after the door by which the priest had entered reopened, and Monte Cristo appeared. "Pardon me," said he, "my dear baron, but one of my friends, the Abbé Busoni, whom you perhaps saw pass by, has just arrived in Paris; not having seen him for a long time, I could not make up my mind to leave him sooner, so I hope this will be sufficient reason for my having made you wait."
"Nay," said Danglars, "it is my fault; I have chosen my visit at a wrong time, and will retire."
"Not at all; on the contrary, be seated; but what is the matter with you? You look careworn; really, you alarm me. Melancholy in a capitalist, like the appearance of a comet, presages some misfortune to the world."
"I have been in ill-luck for several days," said Danglars, "and I have heard nothing but bad news."
"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo. "Have you had another fall at the Bourse?"
"No; I am safe for a few days at least. I am only annoyed about a bankrupt of Trieste."
"Really? Does it happen to be Jacopo Manfredi?"
"Exactly so. Imagine a man who has transacted business with me for I don't know how long, to the amount of 800,000 or 900,000 francs during the year. Never a mistake or delay--a fellow who paid like a prince. Well, I was a million in advance with him, and now my fine Jacopo Manfredi suspends payment！"
"Really?"
"It is an unheard-of fatality. I draw upon him for 600,000 francs, my bills are returned unpaid, and, more than that, I hold bills of exchange signed by him to the value of 400,000 francs, payable at his correspondent's in Paris at the end of this month. To-day is the 30th. I present them; but my correspondent has disappeared. This, with my Spanish affairs, made a pretty end to the month."
"Then you really lost by that affair in Spain?"
"Yes; only 700,000 francs out of my cash-box--nothing more！"
"Why, how could you make such a mistake--such an old stager?"
"Oh, it is all my wife's fault. She dreamed Don Carlos had returned to Spain; she believes in dreams. It is magnetism, she says, and when she dreams a thing it is sure to happen, she assures me. On this conviction I allow her to speculate, she having her bank and her stockbroker; she speculated and lost. It is true she speculates with her own money, not mine; nevertheless, you can understand that when 700,000 francs leave the wife's pocket, the husband always finds it out. But do you mean to say you have not heard of this? Why, the thing has made a tremendous noise."
"Yes, I heard it spoken of, but I did not know the details, and then no one can be more ignorant than I am of the affairs in the Bourse."
"Then you do not speculate?"
"I?--How could I speculate when I already have so much trouble in regulating my income? I should be obliged, besides my steward, to keep a clerk and a boy. But touching these Spanish affairs, I think that the baroness did not dream the whole of the Don Carlos matter. The papers said something about it, did they not?"
"Then you believe the papers?"
"I?--not the least in the world; only I fancied that the honest Messager was an exception to the rule, and that it only announced telegraphic despatches."
"Well, that's what puzzles me," replied Danglars; "the news of the return of Don Carlos was brought by telegraph."
"So that," said Monte Cristo, "you have lost nearly 1,700,000 francs this month."
"Not nearly, indeed; that is exactly my loss."
"Diable！" said Monte Cristo compassionately, "it is a hard blow for a third-rate fortune."
"Third-rate," said Danglars, rather humble, "what do you mean by that?"
"Certainly," continued Monte Cristo, "I make three assortments in fortune--first-rate, second-rate, and third-rate fortunes. I call those first-rate which are composed of treasures one possesses under one's hand, such as mines, lands, and funded property, in such states as France, Austria, and England, provided these treasures and property form a total of about a hundred millions; I call those second-rate fortunes, that are gained by manufacturing enterprises, joint-stock companies, viceroyalties, and principalities, not drawing more than 1,500,000 francs, the whole forming a capital of about fifty millions; finally, I call those third-rate fortunes, which are composed of a fluctuating capital, dependent upon the will of others, or upon chances which a bankruptcy involves or a false telegram shakes, such as banks, speculations of the day--in fact, all operations under the influence of greater or less mischances, the whole bringing in a real or fictitious capital of about fifteen millions. I think this is about your position, is it not?"
"Confound it, yes！" replied Danglars.
"The result, then, of six more such months as this would be to reduce the third-rate house to despair."
"Oh," said Danglars, becoming very pale, how you are running on！"
"Let us imagine seven such months," continued Monte Cristo, in the same tone. "Tell me, have you ever thought that seven times 1,700,000 francs make nearly twelve millions? No, you have not;--well, you are right, for if you indulged in such reflections, you would never risk your principal, which is to the speculator what the skin is to civilized man. We have our clothes, some more splendid than others,--this is our credit; but when a man dies he has only his skin; in the same way, on retiring from business, you have nothing but your real principal of about five or six millions, at the most; for third-rate fortunes are never more than a fourth of what they appear to be, like the locomotive on a railway, the size of which is magnified by the smoke and steam surrounding it. Well, out of the five or six millions which form your real capital, you have just lost nearly two millions, which must, of course, in the same degree diminish your credit and fictitious fortune; to follow out my simile, your skin has been opened by bleeding, and this if repeated three or four times will cause death--so pay attention to it, my dear Monsieur Danglars. Do you want money? Do you wish me to lend you some?"
"What a bad calculator you are！" exclaimed Danglars, calling to his assistance all his philosophy and dissimulation. "I have made money at the same time by speculations which have succeeded. I have made up the loss of blood by nutrition. I lost a battle in Spain, I have been defeated in Trieste, but my naval army in India will have taken some galleons, and my Mexican pioneers will have discovered some mine."
"Very good, very good！ But the wound remains and will reopen at the first loss."
"No, for I am only embarked in certainties," replied Danglars, with the air of a mountebank sounding his own praises; "to involve me, three governments must crumble to dust."
"Well, such things have been."
"That there should be a famine！"
"Recollect the seven fat and the seven lean kine."
"Or, that the sea should become dry, as in the days of Pharaoh, and even then my vessels would become caravans."
"So much the better. I congratulate you, my dear M. Danglars," said Monte Cristo; "I see I was deceived, and that you belong to the class of second-rate fortunes."
"I think I may aspire to that honor," said Danglars with a smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which bad artists are so fond of daubing into their pictures of ruins. "But, while we are speaking of business," Danglars added, pleased to find an opportunity of changing the subject, "tell me what I am to do for M. Cavalcanti."
"Give him money, if he is recommended to you, and the recommendation seems good."
"Excellent; he presented himself this morning with a bond of 40,000 francs, payable at sight, on you, signed by Busoni, and returned by you to me, with your indorsement--of course, I immediately counted him over the forty bank-notes."
Monte Cristo nodded his head in token of assent. "But that is not all," continued Danglars; "he has opened an account with my house for his son."
"May I ask how much he allows the young man?"
"Five thousand francs per month."
"Sixty thousand francs per year. I thought I was right in believing that Cavalcanti to be a stingy fellow. How can a young man live upon 5,000 francs a month?"
"But you understand that if the young man should want a few thousands more"--
"Do not advance it; the father will never repay it. You do not know these ultramontane millionaires; they are regular misers. And by whom were they recommended to you?"
"Oh, by the house of Fenzi, one of the best in Florence."
"I do not mean to say you will lose, but, nevertheless, mind you hold to the terms of the agreement."
"Would you not trust the Cavalcanti?"
"I? oh, I would advance six millions on his signature. I was only speaking in reference to the second-rate fortunes we were mentioning just now."
"And with all this, how unassuming he is！ I should never have taken him for anything more than a mere major."
"And you would have flattered him, for certainly, as you say, he has no manner. The first time I saw him he appeared to me like an old lieutenant who had grown mouldy under his epaulets. But all the Italians are the same; they are like old Jews when they are not glittering in Oriental splendor."
"The young man is better," said Danglars.
"Yes; a little nervous, perhaps, but, upon the whole, he appeared tolerable. I was uneasy about him."
"Why?"
"Because you met him at my house, just after his introduction into the world, as they told me. He has been travelling with a very severe tutor, and had never been to Paris before."
"Ah, I believe noblemen marry amongst themselves, do they not?" asked Danglars carelessly; they like to unite their fortunes."
"It is usual, certainly; but Cavalcanti is an original who does nothing like other people. I cannot help thinking that he has brought his son to France to choose a wife."
"Do you think so?"
"I am sure of it."
"And you have heard his fortune mentioned?"
"Nothing else was talked of; only some said he was worth millions, and others that he did not possess a farthing."
"And what is your opinion?"
"I ought not to influence you, because it is only my own personal impression."
"Well, and it is that"--
"My opinion is, that all these old podestas, these ancient condottieri,--for the Cavalcanti have commanded armies and governed provinces,--my opinion, I say, is, that they have buried their millions in corners, the secret of which they have transmitted only to their eldest sons, who have done the same from generation to generation; and the proof of this is seen in their yellow and dry appearance, like the florins of the republic, which, from being constantly gazed upon, have become reflected in them."
"Certainly," said Danglars, "and this is further supported by the fact of their not possessing an inch of land."
"Very little, at least; I know of none which Cavalcanti possesses, excepting his palace in Lucca."
"Ah, he has a palace?" said Danglars, laughing; "come, that is something."
"Yes; and more than that, he lets it to the Minister of Finance while he lives in a simple house. Oh, as I told you before, I think the old fellow is very close."
"Come, you do not flatter him."
"I scarcely know him; I think I have seen him three times in my life; all I know relating to him is through Busoni and himself. He was telling me this morning that, tired of letting his property lie dormant in Italy, which is a dead nation, he wished to find a method, either in France or England, of multiplying his millions, but remember, that though I place great confidence in Busoni, I am not responsible for this."
"Never mind; accept my thanks for the client you have sent me. It is a fine name to inscribe on my ledgers, and my cashier was quite proud of it when I explained to him who the Cavalcanti were. By the way, this is merely a simple question, when this sort of people marry their sons, do they give them any fortune?"
"Oh, that depends upon circumstances. I know an Italian prince, rich as a gold mine, one of the noblest families in Tuscany, who, when his sons married according to his wish, gave them millions; and when they married against his consent, merely allowed them thirty crowns a month. Should Andrea marry according to his father's views, he will, perhaps, give him one, two, or three millions. For example, supposing it were the daughter of a banker, he might take an interest in the house of the father-in-law of his son; then again, if he disliked his choice, the major takes the key, double-locks his coffer, and Master Andrea would be obliged to live like the sons of a Parisian family, by shuffling cards or rattling the dice."
"Ah, that boy will find out some Bavarian or Peruvian princess; he will want a crown and an immense fortune."
"No; these grand lords on the other side of the Alps frequently marry into plain families; like Jupiter, they like to cross the race. But do you wish to marry Andrea, my dear M. Danglars, that you are asking so many questions?"
"Ma foi！" said Danglars, "it would not be a bad speculation, I fancy, and you know I am a speculator."
"You are not thinking of Mademoiselle Danglars, I hope; you would not like poor Andrea to have his throat cut by Albert?"
"Albert," repeated Danglars, shrugging his shoulders; "ah, well; he would care very little about it, I think."
"But he is betrothed to your daughter, I believe?"
"Well, M. de Morcerf and I have talked about this marriage, but Madame de Morcerf and Albert"--
"You do not mean to say that it would not be a good match?"
"Indeed, I imagine that Mademoiselle Danglars is as good as M. de Morcerf."
"Mademoiselle Danglars' fortune will be great, no doubt, especially it the telegraph should not make any more mistakes."
"Oh, I do not mean her fortune only; but tell me"--
"What?"
"Why did you not invite M. and Madame de Morcerf to your dinner?"
"I did so, but he excused himself on account of Madame de Morcerf being obliged to go to Dieppe for the benefit of sea air."
"Yes, yes," said Danglars, laughing, "it would do her a great deal of good."
"Why so?"
"Because it is the air she always breathed in her youth." Monte Cristo took no notice of this ill-natured remark.
"But still, if Albert be not so rich as Mademoiselle Danglars," said the count, "you must allow that he has a fine name?"
"So he has; but I like mine as well."
"Certainly; your name is popular, and does honor to the title they have adorned it with; but you are too intelligent not to know that according to a prejudice, too firmly rooted to be exterminated, a nobility which dates back five centuries is worth more than one that can only reckon twenty years."
"And for this very reason," said Danglars with a smile, which he tried to make sardonic, "I prefer M. Andrea Cavalcanti to M. Albert de Morcerf."
"Still, I should not think the Morcerfs would yield to the Cavalcanti?"
"The Morcerfs！--Stay, my dear count," said Danglars; "you are a man of the world, are you not?"
"I think so."
"And you understand heraldry?"
"A little."
"Well, look at my coat-of-arms, it is worth more than Morcerf's."
"Why so?"
"Because, though I am not a baron by birth, my real name is, at least, Danglars."
"Well, what then?"
"While his name is not Morcerf."
"How?--not Morcerf?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Go on."
"I have been made a baron, so that I actually am one; he made himself a count, so that he is not one at all."
"Impossible！"
"Listen my dear count; M. de Morcerf has been my friend, or rather my acquaintance, during the last thirty years. You know I have made the most of my arms, though I never forgot my origin."
"A proof of great humility or great pride," said Monte Cristo.
"Well, when I was a clerk, Morcerf was a mere fisherman."
"And then he was called"--
"Fernand."
"Only Fernand?"
"Fernand Mondego."
"You are sure?"
"Pardieu！ I have bought enough fish of him to know his name."
"Then, why did you think of giving your daughter to him?"
"Because Fernand and Danglars, being both parvenus, both having become noble, both rich, are about equal in worth, excepting that there have been certain things mentioned of him that were never said of me."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing！"
"Ah, yes; what you tell me recalls to mind something about the name of Fernand Mondego. I have heard that name in Greece."
"In conjunction with the affairs of Ali Pasha?"
"Exactly so."
"This is the mystery," said Danglars. "I acknowledge I would have given anything to find it out."
"It would be very easy if you much wished it?"
"How so?"
"Probably you have some correspondent in Greece?"
"I should think so."
"At Yanina?"
"Everywhere."
"Well, write to your correspondent in Yanina, and ask him what part was played by a Frenchman named Fernand Mondego in the catastrophe of Ali Tepelini."
"You are right," exclaimed Danglars, rising quickly, "I will write to-day."
"Do so."
"I will."
"And if you should hear of anything very scandalous"--
"I will communicate it to you."
"You will oblige me." Danglars rushed out of the room, and made but one leap into his coupé.
这一幕发生后的第二天，在德布雷上办公室去的途中照例来拜访腾格拉尔夫人的那个时间，他的双人马车并没有在前庭出现。约莫十二点半时，腾格拉尔夫人吩咐备车出去。腾格拉尔躲在一张窗帷后面，注视着他预料之中的那次出门。他吩咐仆人，腾格拉尔夫人一回家马上来通知他，但她到两点钟也没回来。于是他吩咐套马，驱车到下议院，在发言表上写下了自己的名字。从十二点到两点，他一直呆在他的书房里，拆开一封封的信件，堆叠起一个个的数字，心里愈来愈觉得愁闷。他接待了一些客人，其中有卡瓦尔康蒂少校。少校还是象他往常一样地古板和严谨，他分秒不差地正巧在前一天晚上所约定的那个时间来访，来和那位银行家了结他的事务。腾格拉尔在开会的时候显得异常激动，比往常更猛烈地攻击内政部，然后，当离开下议院钻进马车的时候，他告诉车夫驱车到香榭丽舍大道二十号。
基督山在家，但他正在和一个客人谈话，请腾格拉尔在客厅里等一会儿。在等候的期间，门开了，走进来一个穿长衣的神甫，那个人无疑比他更熟悉主人，他没有等，只是鞠了一躬，就继续向里面的房间走去。一分钟之后，神甫进去的那扇门又打开，基督山出来了。“对不起，”他说，“我亲爱的男爵，我的朋友布沙尼神甫，或许您刚才看见他经过了这里，他刚到巴黎。由于好久不见了，所以同他多聊了一会儿，劳您久等了。希望您能理解这个借口。”
“没什么，”腾格拉尔说，“是我的错，我选错了拜访的时间，我自愿告退。”
“请一定不要走，相反，请坐。您怎么啦？您看起来心事重重的。我很为你担心！因为当一个资本家发愁的时候，正如一颗彗星的出现一样，它预示着世界上某种灾难要发生了。”
“这几天来我交了恶运，”腾格拉尔说，“我老是只听到坏消息。”
“啊，真的！”基督山说，“您在证券交易所里又栽了一个跟头吗？”
“不，那方面我至少还可以得到一点补偿。我现在的麻烦是由的里雅斯特的一家银行倒闭引起来的。”
“真的！”您所指的那家倒闭的银行难道就是雅格布·曼弗里那家吗？”
“一点不错。您想想看，这位先生和我不知做了多少年的生意了，每年往来的数额达八九十万。从来没有出过差错或拖延过日期——付款象一位王公大人一样爽快。嗯，我给他垫付了一百万，而现在我那位好先生雅格布·曼弗里却延期付款了！”
“真的？”
“这种倒霉的事是闻所未闻的。我向他支取六十万里弗，我的票子没能兑成现金，被退了回来。此外，我手里还有他所出的四十万法郎的汇票，这个月月底到期，由他的巴黎特派员承兑的。今天是三十日。我派人到他那里去兑现，一看，那位特派员竟然不见了！这件事，再加上那西班牙事件给我的打击，使我这个月月底的光景够瞧的了。”
“那么您真的在那个西班牙事件里损失了很多吗？”
“是的，我损失了七十万法郎。
“咦，您怎么会走错这一步的呢——象你这样的一个老狐狸精？”
“噢，那全是我太太的错。她做梦看见卡罗斯先生已经回到了西班牙，她相信了。她说，这是一种磁性现象。当她梦见一件必将发生的事的时候，她就通知我。在这种信念上，我允许她去做投机生意。她有她的银行和她的证券经纪人，她投机，输了钱。当然，她投机的钱是她自己的，不是我的，可是，您也知道，当七十万法郎离开太太的荷包时，丈夫总是知道的。难道您没听见人说起过这事吗？哼，这事已闹得没人不知道了！”
“是的，我听人说起过，但详细情形却不了解。对于证券交易所里的事，谁都不会比我懵懂的了。”
“那么您不做投机生意吗？”
“我？我光是管理我的收入就已经够麻烦的了，哪还有心思投机呢？除了我的管家之外，我还不得不雇一个管账的和一个小伙计，至于这桩西班牙事情，我想，卡罗斯先生回来的那个故事，男爵夫人并非完全是做梦看见的吧。报纸上也谈到过这件事，不是吗？”
“那么您相信报纸吗？”
“我？一点都不相信，不过我认为那忠实的《消息报》是个例外，它所公布的都是真消息——急报局的消息。”
“对了，我就是这一点弄不明白，”腾格拉尔答道，“卡罗斯先生回来的消息的确是急报局的消息。”
“那么，”基督山说道，“这个月您差不多损失了一百七十万法郎！”
“老实说，不是差不多，我的的确确损失了那么多。”
“糟糕！”基督山同情地说，“这对于一位三等富翁来说可是一个很厉害的打击。”
“三等富翁，”腾格拉尔说，觉得有点受辱，“您这是什么意思？”
“当然罗，”基督山又说，“我把富翁分成三等——头等，二等，三等。凡是手中有宝藏，在法国、奥地利和英国这种国家里拥有矿产、田地、不动产，而且这种宝藏和财产的总数约为一万万左右的，我把他们叫作头等富翁。凡是制造业或股份公司的大股东，负有某重任的总督，小国王公，年收入达一百五十万法郎，总资产在五千万左右的，就把他们叫作二等富翁。最后，凡是资产分散在各种企业上的小股东，靠他的意志或机遇赚钱，经受不起银行倒闭的，经受不起时局急变的，财产的增减单纯靠搞投机，受自然规律中大鱼吃小鱼定律的支配，虚实资本总共约莫在一千五百万左右的，我称他们为三等富翁。我想您的情形大概就是这最后一种吧？”
“糟就糟在这儿！是的！”腾格拉尔回答。
“那么，象这样再过六个月，”基督山平静地说道，“一个三等富翁就要绝望了。”
“噢，”腾格拉尔说道，脸色变得非常苍白，“您讲得时间多快啊！”
“让我们来想象一下这七个月吧，”基督山还是用同样平静的口吻继续说道，“告诉我，您有没有想过：一百七十万的七倍几乎就是一千二百万这一点？没有？嗯，你是对的，因为假如您这样反省一下的话，您就决不会把您的本钱拿出来冒险了，因为本钱对于投机家来说，正如文明人的皮肉一样。我们都穿衣服，有些人的衣服比别人的华丽。——这是我们有目共睹的。但当一个人死了以后，他就只剩下了皮肉。同样的，当退出商场的时候，您最多也不过只剩下了五六百万的真本钱，因为三等富翁的实际资产决不会超过他表面上看上去的四分之一。这就象铁路上的火车头一样，由于四周有煤烟和蒸气包围着它的体积，才显得特别庞大。嗯，在您那五六百万真本钱里面，您刚刚已经损失了差不多两百万，那一定会使您的信用和虚产也相应地减少，按我的比喻来看，您的皮肉已经裂开在流血了。要是再照这样再重复三四次，就会致你于死地的。啊！您必须对它注意才行，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生。您需要不需要钱？要不要我借些给您？”
“您这位计算家的话真令人丧气，”腾格拉尔大声说道，竭力装出一副不在乎的样子，并以种种乐观的念头来支撑着他自己。“我同时还有成功的投机买卖可以赚钱，我可以增加营养来弥补大出血的损失。我在西班牙打了个败仗，我在的里雅斯特吃了次亏，但我的海军会在印度捕获到大商船，我的墨西哥先遣队会发现矿藏。”
“好极了！好极了！但伤口依然在那儿，一受损失便会旧病复发。”
“不会的！因为我只做十拿十稳的交易，”腾格拉尔用江湖医生吹法螺的那种廉价的雄辩回答说。“要弄倒我，必须有三个政府垮台才行。”
“喂，这种事也是有过的呀！”
“那必须是泥土里长不出庄稼来！”
“请记住七年丰收七年灾荒的那个故事吧。”
“那必须是大海突然枯干，象法老王的时代那样。但现在的大海还多得很，而且即使遇到那样的不测，还可以把船只改成车辆的。”
“那就好了！我向您道喜，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生，”基督山说。“我看是我弄错了，你应该列为二等富翁才对。”
“我想我或许可以得到那种荣誉，”腾格拉尔说着，微笑了一下，他的微笑使基督山联想到画家们在画废墟的时候常常喜欢连带涂上去的那种病态的月亮。“既然我们谈到生意上来了，”他又说，很高兴得到一个转变话题的机会，“请告诉我，我应该怎样对待卡瓦尔康蒂先生？”
“给他钱呀，假如他给你的票据看来可靠的话。”
“可靠极了！他今天早晨亲自拿来了一张四万法郎的支票，是布沙尼神甫开给您，经您签字以后转给我的。那是一张凭票即付的支票，我当即把四万法郎的钞票数给了他。”
基督山点了一下头，表示认可。
“还有，”腾格拉尔又说道，“他为他的儿子在我的银行里开了一个户头。”
“我可以问问他允许那个青年人用多少钱吗？”
“一个月五千法郎。”
“一年六万法郎。我预料到了卡瓦尔康蒂是一个吝啬的人。五千法郎一个月叫一个青年人怎么生活呢？”
“您知道，要是那个青年人想多要几千的话”
“千万别透支给他，那老的可是决不肯认账的。您不了解这些意大利富翁的脾气，他们是十足的守财奴。那封委托书是哪家银行开出来的？”
“哦，是福济银行开的，那是佛罗伦萨信用最好的一家。”
“我并非在说您会吃倒账，但我得提醒您，您得严守委托收上的条款。”
“那么您不信任卡瓦尔康蒂吗？”
“我？噢，只要他签一个字，我给他垫付六百万都不成问题。我只是指我们刚才所提到的二等富翁而言。”
“尽管很有钱，他却是那么的平淡朴实！我始终认为他只不过是个少校而已。”
“您实在是恭维他了，因为的确如您所说的，他没什么风度。我初次见到他的时候，觉得他象是年老潦倒的中尉。但意大利人都是这样的，当他们不是象东方的圣人那样大放光芒的时候，他们看上去就象犹太老头子。”
“那个青年人比较好一点。”腾格拉尔说道。
“是的，或许有点神经质，但大体上来讲，他似乎很完美。我有点为他担心。”
“为什么？”
“因为据说，您在我家里和他见面的那一天，他还是初次踏入社交界。他以前出门旅行，总是跟着一位非常严厉的家庭教师，而且从没到过巴黎。”
“这些意大利贵族都是在本阶级里互相通婚的，是吗？”腾格拉尔随随便便地问道，“他们喜欢门当户对地联姻。”
“当然罗，一般说来这样的，但卡瓦尔康蒂是个别具卓见的人，他凡事都与别人不同。我以为他是带儿子到法国来选媳妇的。”
“您这样想吗？”
“我确信如此。”
“您听人提到过他的财产吗？”
“老是听人谈到那方面的事，只是有些人说他有几百万，而有些人则说，他连一个大子儿都不趁。”
“您怎么看呢？”
“我不应该来影响您，因为那只是我个人的感想。”
“那么，您的意见是”
“我的意见是，这些边关大将，这些节度使。要知道卡瓦尔康蒂曾统领过大军，坐镇过几个省。他们的百万家财都藏在秘密角落里，只把这种秘密传给他的长子，长子再同样的一代代传下去，证据就是他们都干黄枯瘪，象共和国的金币一样，真是愈看愈象。”
“当然罗，”腾格拉尔说，“另外一个证据就是他们连一寸土地的产权都没有。”
“或少可以说极少，除了他在卢卡的那座大厦以外，我就不知道他是否还有别的地产。”
“啊！他有一座大夏吗？”腾格拉尔笑嘻嘻地说，“哦，那倒也很值几个钱的。”
“是的，更妙的是，他把它租给了财政部长，而他自己则住在一所很简单的房子里。哦！我以前已经对您说过了，我觉得那个好人是非常吝啬的！”
“好了，别替他吹嘘了。”
“我简直可以说并不认识他。我记得，我一生之中曾见过他三次。关于他的一切，都是布沙尼神甫和他自己告诉我的。神甫今天早晨跟我谈到了卡瓦尔康蒂代他儿子所定的计划，还说卡瓦尔康蒂不想让他的财产再湮没在意大利了，那是个死地方，他很想找到办法到法国或英国来把他那几百万翻几个翻。请记得，虽然我极其信任布沙尼神甫，但对于这个消息的真假我是不能负责的。”
“没关系，谢谢您给我介绍顾客。他给我的顾客名单增光不少。当我把卡瓦尔康蒂的身份解释给我的出纳听的时候，他也很引以为荣。慢来——顺便问您一个问题——当他那种人给他的儿子娶亲的时候，他们是不是要分一点财产给他们呢？”
“噢，那得看情形而定。我认识一位意大利亲王，富有得象一座金矿似的，是托斯卡纳最高贵的贵族之一。假如他儿子的婚姻符合他的心愿，他就给他们几百万，假如他们的婚姻是他所不赞成的，他每月只给他们三十个艾居。要是安德烈的婚姻能符合他父亲的心愿，他或许会给他一百万、两百万，或是三百万。譬如说，那是一位银行家的女儿，他就可以在他亲家翁的银行里投资得点好处。又假如，那个未来的媳妇不中他的意——那就再见吧。卡瓦尔康蒂老头就会拿起钥匙，们他的小银库牢牢地锁上，于是安德烈先生就不得不象巴黎的那些纨绔子弟一样，靠玩纸牌和掷骰子来过活了。”
“啊！那个小伙子会找到一个巴伐利亚或秘鲁的公主的，他要的是极其有钱的名门贵族。”
“不，阿尔卑斯山那边的这些大贵族们是常常和平民通婚的，象朱庇特那样，他们喜欢跨族联姻。但是，我亲爱的腾格拉尔先生，您问了这么多的问题，难道您想跟安德烈联姻吗？”
“说老实话！”腾格拉尔说，“这桩投机生意看来倒不坏，而您也知道我是个投机家。”
“我想您该不是指腾格拉尔小姐吧。您不会希望看到那可怜的安德烈被阿尔贝割断喉咙吧？”
“阿尔贝！”腾格拉尔耸耸肩说道，“啊，是的，我想，他对于这件事是不怎么在乎的。”
“可他不是已经跟令爱订婚了吗？”
“当然，马尔塞夫先生和我曾谈过这件婚事，但马尔塞夫夫人和阿尔贝——”
“您该不会说那不是门当户对的一对儿吧？”
“的确，我想腾格拉尔小姐并不比马尔塞夫先生逊色。”
“腾格拉尔小姐的财产将来不会少，那是毫无疑问的，尤其是假如急报局不再出什么岔子的话。”
“噢！我并非仅指她的财产，但请告诉我——”
“什么？”
“您请客为什么不邀请马尔塞夫一家呢？”
“我请了的，但他推托说马尔塞夫夫人必须到迪埃普去呼吸海滨的新鲜空气，因此不能来。”
“是的，是的，”腾格拉尔说着大笑起来，“那对她是大有好处的。”
“为什么？”
“因为那是她青年时代所呼吸的空气。”基督山假装没有注意到这句震颤他的心弦的话，让它滑了过去。
“但是，假如说阿尔贝不如腾格拉尔小姐有钱，”伯爵说，“您总得承认他们的门第很不错的吧？”
“他的门第是不错，但我的也并不差。”
“当然罗，您的姓很普遍，而且您也有爵位，但您是个聪明人，当然不会不知道：有一种根深蒂固的偏见，一家有五世纪历史的贵族总比一家只有二十年历史的贵族说起来名声响得多的。”
“正是因为这个原因，”腾格拉尔带着一个他自以为是的讽刺的微笑说道，“我情愿要安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生而不要阿尔贝·马尔塞夫先生。”
“可是，我倒并非认为马尔塞夫不如卡瓦尔康蒂。”
“马尔塞夫！慢来，我亲爱的伯爵，”腾格拉尔说，“您也是个聪明人，是不是？”
“我自己是这样想的。”
“您懂得家谱学？”
“略微懂一点。”
“噢，瞧瞧我的纹章，它比马尔塞夫更有价值。”
“怎么会呢？”
“因为，虽然我不是一位世袭的男爵，但至少我千真万确是姓腾格拉尔。”
“嗯，那又怎么样？”
“而他的姓却不是马尔塞夫。”
“怎么——不是马尔塞夫？”
“一点边儿都没沾。”
“噢，请说明白一点儿！”
“我这个男爵是人家封的，所以我货真价实的是个男爵。而他是自己对自己叫的伯爵，所以他根本就不是什么伯爵。”
“这简直是不可能的！”
“听我说，我亲爱的伯爵，马尔塞夫是我的朋友，说得更确切些，是我过去三十年来的老相识。你知道，我在竭力争取我的名誉和地位，可是我从来没忘记过我的出身。”
“这是一种非常谦逊或者说非常骄矜的风度。”基督山说。
“嗯，我当公司职员的时候，马尔塞夫还只是个渔夫。”
“他那时叫——”
“弗尔南多。”
“只是弗尔南多？”
“弗尔南多·蒙台哥。”
“您确信没弄错？”
“我觉得应该不会错！因为我从他手里买过很多的鱼，所以知道他的姓名。”
“那么您为什么想到要把令爱给他儿子呢？”
“因为弗尔南多和腾格拉尔两个人都是暴发户，都后来成了贵族，都发了财，所以大家都差不多，只是在某些事情上，有人提到他，却从来没谈到过我。”
“什么事？”
“哦，没什么！”
“啊，是的！您的这番话使我想起了一件关于弗尔南多·蒙台哥这个人的事来了。我是在希腊听说的。”
“那事是不是和阿里总督有关？”
“一点不错。”
“这是一个迷，”腾格拉尔说，“我承认我愿意不惜任何代价来查明它的真相。”
“假如您真想这么做，那是很容易的。”
“怎么会呢？”
“您在希腊大概有来往的银行吧？”
“当然有。”
“亚尼纳呢？”
“到处都有。”
“那就好办了，写一封信给您在亚尼纳的来往银行，问问他们在阿里·铁贝林蒙难的时候，一个名叫弗尔南多·蒙台哥的法国人曾扮演过什么样的角色。”
“您说得不错，”腾格拉尔一下子站起来说道，“我今天就写。”
“写吧。”
“我一定写。”
“假如您听到有什么的确极其不名誉的事情——”
“我会来告诉您的。”
“谢谢。”
腾格拉尔急步走出了房间，一下跳进了他的马车。