The evening passed on; Madame de Villefort expressed adesire to return to Paris, which Madame Danglars had notdared to do, notwithstanding the uneasiness she experienced.On his wife's request, M. de Villefort was the first to givethe signal of departure. He offered a seat in his landau toMadame Danglars, that she might be under the care of hiswife. As for M. Danglars, absorbed in an interestingconversation with M. Cavalcanti, he paid no attention toanything that was passing. While Monte Cristo had begged thesmelling-bottle of Madame de Villefort, he had noticed theapproach of Villefort to Madame Danglars, and he soonguessed all that had passed between them, though the wordshad been uttered in so low a voice as hardly to be heard byMadame Danglars. Without opposing their arrangements, heallowed Morrel, Chateau-Renaud, and Debray to leave onhorseback, and the ladies in M. de Villefort's carriage.Danglars, more and more delighted with Major Cavalcanti, hadoffered him a seat in his carriage. Andrea Cavalcanti foundhis tilbury waiting at the door; the groom, in every respecta caricature of the English fashion, was standing on tiptoeto hold a large iron-gray horse.

Andrea had spoken very little during dinner; he was anintelligent lad, and he feared to utter some absurditybefore so many grand people, amongst whom, with dilatingeyes, he saw the king's attorney. Then he had been seizedupon by Danglars, who, with a rapid glance at thestiff-necked old major and his modest son, and taking intoconsideration the hospitality of the count, made up his mindthat he was in the society of some nabob come to Paris tofinish the worldly education of his heir. He contemplatedwith unspeakable delight the large diamond which shone onthe major's little finger; for the major, like a prudentman, in case of any accident happening to his bank-notes,had immediately converted them into an available asset.Then, after dinner, on the pretext of business, hequestioned the father and son upon their mode of living; andthe father and son, previously informed that it was throughDanglars the one was to receive his 48,000 francs and theother 50,000 livres annually, were so full of affabilitythat they would have shaken hands even with the banker'sservants, so much did their gratitude need an object toexpend itself upon. One thing above all the rest heightenedthe respect, nay almost the veneration, of Danglars forCavalcanti. The latter, faithful to the principle of Horace,nil admirari, had contented himself with showing hisknowledge by declaring in what lake the best lampreys werecaught. Then he had eaten some without saying a word more;Danglars, therefore, concluded that such luxuries werecommon at the table of the illustrious descendant of theCavalcanti, who most likely in Lucca fed upon trout broughtfrom Switzerland, and lobsters sent from England, by thesame means used by the count to bring the lampreys from LakeFusaro, and the sterlet from the Volga. Thus it was withmuch politeness of manner that he heard Cavalcanti pronouncethese words, "To-morrow, sir, I shall have the honor ofwaiting upon you on business."

"And I, sir," said Danglars, "shall be most happy to receiveyou." Upon which he offered to take Cavalcanti in hiscarriage to the Hotel des Princes, if it would not bedepriving him of the company of his son. To this Cavalcantireplied by saying that for some time past his son had livedindependently of him, that he had his own horses andcarriages, and that not having come together, it would notbe difficult for them to leave separately. The major seatedhimself, therefore, by the side of Danglars, who was moreand more charmed with the ideas of order and economy whichruled this man, and yet who, being able to allow his son60,000 francs a year, might be supposed to possess a fortuneof 500,000 or 600,000 livres.

As for Andrea, he began, by way of showing off, to scold hisgroom, who, instead of bringing the tilbury to the steps ofthe house, had taken it to the outer door, thus giving himthe trouble of walking thirty steps to reach it. The groomheard him with humility, took the bit of the impatientanimal with his left hand, and with the right held out thereins to Andrea, who, taking them from him, rested hispolished boot lightly on the step. At that moment a handtouched his shoulder. The young man turned round, thinkingthat Danglars or Monte Cristo had forgotten something theywished to tell him, and had returned just as they werestarting. But instead of either of these, he saw nothing buta strange face, sunburnt, and encircled by a beard, witheyes brilliant as carbuncles, and a smile upon the mouthwhich displayed a perfect set of white teeth, pointed andsharp as the wolf's or jackal's. A red handkerchiefencircled his gray head; torn and filthy garments coveredhis large bony limbs, which seemed as though, like those ofa skeleton, they would rattle as he walked; and the handwith which he leaned upon the young man's shoulder, andwhich was the first thing Andrea saw, seemed of giganticsize. Did the young man recognize that face by the light ofthe lantern in his tilbury, or was he merely struck with thehorrible appearance of his interrogator? We cannot say; butonly relate the fact that he shuddered and stepped backsuddenly. "What do you want of me?" he asked.

"Pardon me, my friend, if I disturb you," said the man withthe red handkerchief, "but I want to speak to you."

"You have no right to beg at night," said the groom,endeavoring to rid his master of the troublesome intruder.

"I am not begging, my fine fellow," said the unknown to theservant, with so ironical an expression of the eye, and sofrightful a smile, that he withdrew; "I only wish to say twoor three words to your master, who gave me a commission toexecute about a fortnight ago."

"Come," said Andrea, with sufficient nerve for his servantnot to perceive his agitation, "what do you want? Speakquickly, friend."

The man said, in a low voice: "I wish - I wish you to spareme the walk back to Paris. I am very tired, and as I havenot eaten so good a dinner as you, I can scarcely stand."The young man shuddered at this strange familiarity. "Tellme," he said - "tell me what you want?"

"Well, then, I want you to take me up in your fine carriage,and carry me back." Andrea turned pale, but said nothing.

"Yes," said the man, thrusting his hands into his pockets,and looking impudently at the youth; "I have taken the whiminto my head; do you understand, Master Benedetto?"

At this name, no doubt, the young man reflected a little,for he went towards his groom, saying, "This man is right; Idid indeed charge him with a commission, the result of whichhe must tell me; walk to the barrier, there take a cab, thatyou may not be too late." The surprised groom retired. "Letme at least reach a shady spot," said Andrea.

"Oh, as for that, I'll take you to a splendid place," saidthe man with the handkerchief; and taking the horse's bit heled the tilbury where it was certainly impossible for anyone to witness the honor that Andrea conferred upon him.

"Don't think I want the glory of riding in your finecarriage," said he; "oh, no, it's only because I am tired,and also because I have a little business to talk over withyou."

"Come, step in," said the young man. It was a pity thisscene had not occurred in daylight, for it was curious tosee this rascal throwing himself heavily down on the cushionbeside the young and elegant driver of the tilbury. Andreadrove past the last house in the village without saying aword to his companion, who smiled complacently, as thoughwell-pleased to find himself travelling in so comfortable avehicle. Once out of Auteuil, Andrea looked around, in orderto assure himself that he could neither be seen nor heard,and then, stopping the horse and crossing his arms beforethe man, he asked, - "Now, tell me why you come to disturbmy tranquillity?"

"Let me ask you why you deceived me?"

"How have I deceived you?"

"`How,' do you ask? When we parted at the Pont du Var, youtold me you were going to travel through Piedmont andTuscany; but instead of that, you come to Paris."

"How does that annoy you?"

"It does not; on the contrary, I think it will answer mypurpose."

"So," said Andrea, "you are speculating upon me?"

"What fine words he uses!"

"I warn you, Master Caderousse, that you are mistaken."

"Well, well, don't be angry, my boy; you know well enoughwhat it is to be unfortunate; and misfortunes make usjealous. I thought you were earning a living in Tuscany orPiedmont by acting as facchino or cicerone, and I pitied yousincerely, as I would a child of my own. You know I alwaysdid call you my child."

"Come, come, what then?"

"Patience - patience!"

"I am patient, but go on."

"All at once I see you pass through the barrier with agroom, a tilbury, and fine new clothes. You must havediscovered a mine, or else become a stockbroker."

"So that, as you confess, you are jealous?"

"No, I am pleased - so pleased that I wished tocongratulate you; but as I am not quite properly dressed, Ichose my opportunity, that I might not compromise you."

"Yes, and a fine opportunity you have chosen!" exclaimedAndrea; "you speak to me before my servant."

"How can I help that, my boy? I speak to you when I cancatch you. You have a quick horse, a light tilbury, you arenaturally as slippery as an eel; if I had missed youto-night, I might not have had another chance."

"You see, I do not conceal myself."

"You are lucky; I wish I could say as much, for I do concealmyself; and then I was afraid you would not recognize me,but you did," added Caderousse with his unpleasant smile."It was very polite of you."

"Come," said Andrea, "what do want?"

"You do not speak affectionately to me, Benedetto, my oldfriend, that is not right - take care, or I may becometroublesome." This menace smothered the young man's passion.He urged the horse again into a trot. "You should not speakso to an old friend like me, Caderousse, as you said justnow; you are a native of Marseilles, I am" -

"Do you know then now what you are?"

"No, but I was brought up in Corsica; you are old andobstinate, I am young and wilful. Between people like usthreats are out of place, everything should be amicablyarranged. Is it my fault if fortune, which has frowned onyou, has been kind to me?"

"Fortune has been kind to you, then? Your tilbury, yourgroom, your clothes, are not then hired? Good, so much thebetter," said Caderousse, his eyes sparkling with avarice.

"Oh, you knew that well enough before speaking to me," saidAndrea, becoming more and more excited. "If I had beenwearing a handkerchief like yours on my head, rags on myback, and worn-out shoes on my feet, you would not haveknown me."

"You wrong me, my boy; now I have found you, nothingprevents my being as well-dressed as any one, knowing, as Ido, the goodness of your heart. If you have two coats youwill give me one of them. I used to divide my soup and beanswith you when you were hungry."

"True," said Andrea.

"What an appetite you used to have! Is it as good now?"

"Oh, yes," replied Andrea, laughing.

"How did you come to be dining with that prince whose houseyou have just left?"

"He is not a prince; simply a count."

"A count, and a rich one too, eh?"

"Yes; but you had better not have anything to say to him,for he is not a very good-tempered gentleman."

"Oh, be easy! I have no design upon your count, and youshall have him all to yourself. But," said Caderousse, againsmiling with the disagreeable expression he had beforeassumed, "you must pay for it - you understand?"

"Well, what do you want?"

"I think that with a hundred francs a month" -

"Well?"

"I could live" -

"Upon a hundred francs!"

"Come - you understand me; but that with" -

"With?"

"With a hundred and fifty francs I should be quite happy."

"Here are two hundred," said Andrea; and he placed ten goldlouis in the hand of Caderousse.

"Good!" said Caderousse.

"Apply to the steward on the first day of every mouth, andyou will receive the same sum."

"There now, again you degrade me."

"How so?"

"By making me apply to the servants, when I want to transactbusiness with you alone."

"Well, be it so, then. Take it from me then, and so long atleast as I receive my income, you shall be paid yours."

"Come, come; I always said you were a line fellow, and it isa blessing when good fortune happens to such as you. Buttell me all about it?"

"Why do you wish to know?" asked Cavalcanti.

"What? do you again defy me?"

"No; the fact is, I have found my father."

"What? a real father?"

"Yes, so long as he pays me" -

"You'll honor and believe him - that's right. What is hisname?"

"Major Cavalcanti."

"Is he pleased with you?"

"So far I have appeared to answer his purpose."

"And who found this father for you?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo."

"The man whose house you have just left?"

"Yes."

"I wish you would try and find me a situation with him asgrandfather, since he holds the money-chest!"

"Well, I will mention you to him. Meanwhile, what are yougoing to do?"

"I?"

"Yes, you."

"It is very kind of you to trouble yourself about me."

"Since you interest yourself in my affairs, I think it isnow my turn to ask you some questions."

"Ah, true. Well; I shall rent a room in some respectablehouse, wear a decent coat, shave every day, and go and readthe papers in a cafe. Then, in the evening, I shall go tothe theatre; I shall look like some retired baker. That iswhat I want."

"Come, if you will only put this scheme into execution, andbe steady, nothing could be better."

"Do you think so, M. Bossuet? And you - what will youbecome? A peer of France?"

"Ah," said Andrea, "who knows?"

"Major Cavalcanti is already one, perhaps; but then,hereditary rank is abolished."

"No politics, Caderousse. And now that you have all youwant, and that we understand each other, jump down from thetilbury and disappear."

"Not at all, my good friend."

"How? Not at all?"

"Why, just think for a moment; with this red handkerchief onmy head, with scarcely any shoes, no papers, and ten goldnapoleons in my pocket, without reckoning what was therebefore - making in all about two hundred francs, - why, Ishould certainly be arrested at the barriers. Then, tojustify myself, I should say that you gave me the money;this would cause inquiries, it would be found that I leftToulon without giving due notice, and I should then beescorted back to the shores of the Mediterranean. Then Ishould become simply No. 106, and good-by to my dream ofresembling the retired baker! No, no, my boy; I preferremaining honorably in the capital." Andrea scowled.Certainly, as he had himself owned, the reputed son of MajorCavalcanti was a wilful fellow. He drew up for a minute,threw a rapid glance around him, and then his hand fellinstantly into his pocket, where it began playing with apistol. But, meanwhile, Caderousse, who had never taken hiseyes off his companion, passed his hand behind his back, andopened a long Spanish knife, which he always carried withhim, to be ready in case of need. The two friends, as wesee, were worthy of and understood one another. Andrea'shand left his pocket inoffensively, and was carried up tothe red mustache, which it played with for some time. "GoodCaderousse," he said, "how happy you will be."

"I will do my best," said the inn-keeper of the Pont duGard, shutting up his knife.

"Well, then, we will go into Paris. But how will you passthrough the barrier without exciting suspicion? It seems tome that you are in more danger riding than on foot."

"Wait," said Caderousse, "we shall see." He then took thegreat-coat with the large collar, which the groom had leftbehind in the tilbury, and put it on his back; then he tookoff Cavalcanti's hat, which he placed upon his own head, andfinally he assumed the careless attitude of a servant whosemaster drives himself.

"But, tell me," said Andrea, "am I to remain bareheaded?"

"Pooh," said Caderousse; "it is so windy that your hat caneasily appear to have blown off."

"Come, come; enough of this," said Cavalcanti.

"What are you waiting for?" said Caderousse. "I hope I amnot the cause."

"Hush," said Andrea. They passed the barrier withoutaccident. At the first cross street Andrea stopped hishorse, and Caderousse leaped out.

"Well!" said Andrea, - "my servant's coat and my hat?"

"Ah," said Caderousse, "you would not like me to risk takingcold?"

"But what am I to do?"

"You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Aurevoir, Benedetto;" and running into a court, hedisappeared. "Alas," said Andrea, sighing, "one cannot becompletely happy in this world!"