M. DE VILLEFORT kept the promise he had made to Madame Danglars, to endeavor to find out how the Count of Monte Cristo had discovered the history of the house at Auteuil. He wrote the same day for the required information to M. de Boville, who, from having been an inspector of prisons, was promoted to a high office in the police; and the latter begged for two days time to ascertain exactly who would be most likely to give him full particulars. At the end of the second day M. de Villefort received the following note:--
"The person called the Count of Monte Cristo is an intimate acquaintance of Lord Wilmore, a rich foreigner, who is sometimes seen in Paris and who is there at this moment; he is also known to the Abbé Busoni, a Sicilian priest, of high repute in the East, where he has done much good."
M. de Villefort replied by ordering the strictest inquiries to be made respecting these two persons; his orders were executed, and the following evening he received these details:--
"The abbé, who was in Paris only for a month, inhabited a small two-storied house behind Saint-Sulpice; there were two rooms on each floor and he was the only tenant. The two lower rooms consisted of a dining-room, with a table, chairs, and side-board of walnut,--and a wainscoted parlor, without ornaments, carpet, or timepiece. It was evident that the abbé limited himself to objects of strict necessity. He preferred to use the sitting-room upstairs, which was more library than parlor, and was furnished with theological books and parchments, in which he delighted to bury himself for months at a time, according to his valet de chambre. His valet looked at the visitors through a sort of wicket; and if their faces were unknown to him or displeased him, he replied that the abbé was not in Paris, an answer which satisfied most persons, because the abbé was known to be a great traveller. Besides, whether at home or not, whether in Paris or Cairo, the abbé always left something to give away, which the valet distributed through this wicket in his master's name. The other room near the library was a bedroom. A bed without curtains, four arm-chairs, and a couch, covered with yellow Utrecht velvet, composed, with a prie-Dieu, all its furniture. Lord Wilmore resided in Rue Fontaine-Saint-George. He was one of those English tourists who consume a large fortune in travelling. He hired the apartment in which he lived furnished, passed only a few hours in the day there, and rarely slept there. One of his peculiarities was never to speak a word of French, which he however wrote with great facility."
The day after this important information had been given to the king's attorney, a man alighted from a carriage at the corner of the Rue Férou, and rapping at an olive-green door, asked if the Abbé Busoni were within. "No, he went out early this morning," replied the valet.
"I might not always be content with that answer," replied the visitor, "for I come from one to whom everyone must be at home. But have the kindness to give the Abbé Busoni"--
"I told you he was not at home," repeated the valet. "Then on his return give him that card and this sealed paper. Will he be at home at eight o'clock this evening?"
"Doubtless, unless he is at work, which is the same as if he were out."
"I will come again at that time," replied the visitor, who then retired.
At the appointed hour the same man returned in the same carriage, which, instead of stopping this time at the end of the Rue Férou, drove up to the green door. He knocked, and it opened immediately to admit him. From the signs of respect the valet paid him, he saw that his note had produced a good effect. "Is the abbé at home?" asked he.
"Yes; he is at work in his library, but he expects you, sir," replied the valet. The stranger ascended a rough staircase, and before a table, illumined by a lamp whose light was concentrated by a large shade while the rest of the apartment was in partial darkness, he perceived the abbé in a monk's dress, with a cowl on his head such as was used by learned men of the Middle Ages. "Have I the honor of addressing the Abbé Busoni?" asked the visitor.
"Yes, sir," replied the abbé; "and you are the person whom M. de Boville, formerly an inspector of prisons, sends to me from the prefect of police?"
"Exactly, sir."
"One of the agents appointed to secure the safety of Paris?"
"Yes, sir"" replied the stranger with a slight hesitation, and blushing.
The abbé replaced the large spectacles, which covered not only his eyes but his temples, and sitting down motioned to his visitor to do the same. "I am at your service, sir," said the abbé, with a marked Italian accent.
"The mission with which I am charged, sir," replied the visitor, speaking with hesitation, "is a confidential one on the part of him who fulfils it, and him by whom he is employed." The abbé bowed. "Your probity," replied the stranger, "is so well known to the prefect that he wishes as a magistrate to ascertain from you some particulars connected with the public safety, to ascertain which I am deputed to see you. It is hoped that no ties of friendship or humane consideration will induce you to conceal the truth."
"Provided, sir, the particulars you wish for do not interfere with my scruples or my conscience. I am a priest, sir, and the secrets of confession, for instance, must remain between me and God, and not between me and human justice."
"Do not alarm yourself, monsieur, we will duly respect your conscience."
At this moment the abbé pressed down his side of the shade and so raised it on the other, throwing a bright light on the stranger's face, while his own remained obscured. "Excuse me, abbé," said the envoy of the prefect of the police, "but the light tries my eyes very much." The abbé lowered the shade. "Now, sir, I am listening--go on."
"I will come at once to the point. Do you know the Count of Monte Cristo?"
"You mean Monsieur Zaccone, I presume?"
"Zaccone?--is not his name Monte Cristo?"
"Monte Cristo is the name of an estate, or, rather, of a rock, and not a family name."
"Well, be it so--let us not dispute about words; and since M. de Monte Cristo and M. Zaccone are the same"--
"Absolutely the same."
"Let us speak of M. Zaccone."
"Agreed."
"I asked you if you knew him?"
"Extremely well."
"Who is he?"
"The son of a rich shipbuilder in Malta."
"I know that is the report; but, as you are aware, the police does not content itself with vague reports."
"However," replied the abbé, with an affable smile, "when that report is in accordance with the truth, everybody must believe it, the police as well as all the rest."
"Are you sure of what you assert?"
"What do you mean by that question?"
"Understand, sir, I do not in the least suspect your veracity; I ask if you are certain of it?"
"I knew his father, M. Zaccone."
"Ah, indeed?"
"And when a child I often played with the son in the timber-yards."
"But whence does he derive the title of count?"
"You are aware that may be bought."
"In Italy?"
"Everywhere."
"And his immense riches, whence does he procure them?"
"They may not be so very great."
"How much do you suppose he possesses?"
"From one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand livres per annum."
"That is reasonable," said the visitor; "I have heard he had three or four millions."
"Two hundred thousand per annum would make four millions of capital."
"But I was told he had four millions per annum?"
"That is not probable."
"Do you know this Island of Monte Cristo?"
"Certainly, every one who has come from Palermo, Naples, or Rome to France by sea must know it, since he has passed close to it and must have seen it."
"I am told it is a delightful place?"
"It is a rock."
"And why has the count bought a rock?"
"For the sake of being a count. In Italy one must have territorial possessions to be a count."
"You have, doubtless, heard the adventures of M. Zaccone's youth?"
"The father's?"
"No, the son's."
"I know nothing certain; at that period of his life, I lost sight of my young comrade."
"Was he in the wars?"
"I think he entered the service."
"In what branch?"
"In the navy."
"Are you not his confessor?"
"No, sir; I believe he is a Lutheran."
"A Lutheran?"
"I say, I believe such is the case, I do not affirm it; besides, liberty of conscience is established in France."
"Doubtless, and we are not now inquiring into his creed, but his actions; in the name of the prefect of police, I ask you what you know of him.
"He passes for a very charitable man. Our holy father, the pope, has made him a knight of Jesus Christ for the services he rendered to the Christians in the East; he has five or six rings as testimonials from Eastern monarchs of his services."
"Does he wear them?"
"No, but he is proud of them; he is better pleased with rewards given to the benefactors of man than to his destroyers."
"He is a Quaker then?"
"Exactly, he is a Quaker, with the exception of the peculiar dress."
"Has he any friends?"
"Yes, every one who knows him is his friend."
"But has he any enemies?"
"One only."
"What is his name?"
"Lord Wilmore."
"Where is he?"
"He is in Paris just now."
"Can he give me any particulars?"
"Important ones; he was in India with Zaccone."
"Do you know his abode?"
"It's somewhere in the Chaussée d'Antin; but I know neither the street nor the number."
"Are you at variance with the Englishman?"
"I love Zaccone, and he hates him; we are consequently not friends."
"Do you think the Count of Monte Cristo had ever been in France before he made this visit to Paris?"
"To that question I can answer positively; no, sir, he had not, because he applied to me six months ago for the particulars he required, and as I did not know when I might again come to Paris, I recommended M. Cavalcanti to him."
"Andrea?"
"No, Bartolomeo, his father."
"Now, sir, I have but one question more to ask, and I charge you, in the name of honor, of humanity, and of religion, to answer me candidly."
"What is it, sir?"
"Do you know with what design M. de Monte Cristo purchased a house at Auteuil?"
"Certainly, for he told me."
"What is it, sir?"
"To make a lunatic asylum of it, similar to that founded by the Count of Pisani at Palermo. Do you know about that institution?"
"I have heard of it."
"It is a magnificent charity." Having said this, the abbé bowed to imply he wished to pursue his studies. The visitor either understood the abbé's meaning, or had no more questions to ask; he arose, and the abbé accompanied him to the door. "You are a great almsgiver," said the visitor, "and although you are said to be rich, I will venture to offer you something for your poor people; will you accept my offering?"
"I thank you, sir; I am only jealous in one thing, and that is that the relief I give should be entirely from my own resources."
"However"--
"My resolution, sir, is unchangeable, but you have only to search for yourself and you will find, alas, but too many objects upon whom to exercise your benevolence." The abbé once more bowed as he opened the door, the stranger bowed and took his leave, and the carriage conveyed him straight to the house of M. de Villefort. An hour afterwards the carriage was again ordered, and this time it went to the Rue Fontaine-Saint-George, and stopped at No. 5, where Lord Wilmore lived. The stranger had written to Lord Wilmore, requesting an interview, which the latter had fixed for ten o'clock. As the envoy of the prefect of police arrived ten minutes before ten, he was told that Lord Wilmore, who was precision and punctuality personified, was not yet come in, but that he would be sure to return as the clock struck.
The visitor was introduced into the drawing-room, which was like all other furnished drawing-rooms. A mantle-piece, with two modern Sèvres vases, a timepiece representing Cupid with his bent bow, a mirror with an engraving on each side--one representing Homer carrying his guide, the other, Belisarius begging--a grayish paper; red and black tapestry--such was the appearance of Lord Wilmore's drawing-room. It was illuminated by lamps with ground-glass shades which gave only a feeble light, as if out of consideration for the envoy's weak sight. After ten minutes' expectation the clock struck ten; at the fifth stroke the door opened and Lord Wilmore appeared. He was rather above the middle height, with thin reddish whiskers, light complexion and light hair, turning rather gray. He was dressed with all the English peculiarity, namely, in a blue coat, with gilt buttons and high collar, in the fashion of 1811, a white kerseymere waistcoat, and nankeen pantaloons, three inches too short, but which were prevented by straps from slipping up to the knee. His first remark on entering was,--"You know, sir, I do not speak French?"
"I know you do not like to converse in our language," replied the envoy. "But you may use it," replied Lord Wilmore; "I understand it."
"And I," replied the visitor, changing his idiom, "know enough of English to keep up the conversation. Do not put yourself to the slightest inconvenience."
"Aw?" said Lord Wilmore, with that tone which is only known to natives of Great Britain.
The envoy presented his letter of introduction, which the latter read with English coolness, and having finished,--"I understand," said he, "perfectly."
Then began the questions, which were similar to those which had been addressed to the Abbé Busoni. But as Lord Wilmore, in the character of the count's enemy, was less restrained in his answers, they were more numerous; he described the youth of Monte Cristo, who he said, at ten years of age, entered the service of one of the petty sovereigns of India who make war on the English. It was there Wilmore had first met him and fought against him; and in that war Zaccone had been taken prisoner, sent to England, and consigned to the hulks, whence he had escaped by swimming. Then began his travels, his duels, his caprices; then the insurrection in Greece broke out, and he had served in the Grecian ranks. While in that service he had discovered a silver mine in the mountains of Thessaly, but he had been careful to conceal it from every one. After the battle of Navarino, when the Greek government was consolidated, he asked of King Otho a mining grant for that district, which was given him. Hence that immense fortune, which, in Lord Wilmore's opinion, possibly amounted to one or two millions per annum,--a precarious fortune, which might be momentarily lost by the failure of the mine.
"But," asked the visitor, "do you know why he came to France?"
"He is speculating in railways," said Lord Wilmore, "and as he is an expert chemist and physicist, he has invented a new system of telegraphy, which he is seeking to bring to perfection."
"How much does he spend yearly?" asked the prefect.
"Not more than five or six hundred thousand francs," said Lord Wilmore; "he is a miser." Hatred evidently inspired the Englishman, who, knowing no other reproach to bring on the count, accused him of avarice. "Do you know his house at Auteuil?"
"Certainly."
"What do you know respecting it?"
"Do you wish to know why he bought it?"
"Yes."
"The count is a speculator, who will certainly ruin himself in experiments. He supposes there is in the neighborhood of the house he has bought a mineral spring equal to those at Bagneres, Luchon, and Cauterets. He is going to turn his house into a Badhaus, as the Germans term it. He has already dug up all the garden two or three times to find the famous spring, and, being unsuccessful, he will soon purchase all the contiguous houses. Now, as I dislike him, and hope his railway, his electric telegraph, or his search for baths, will ruin him, I am watching for his discomfiture, which must soon take place."
"What was the cause of your quarrel?"
"When he was in England he seduced the wife of one of my friends."
"Why do you not seek revenge?"
"I have already fought three duels with him," said the Englishman, "the first with the pistol, the second with the sword, and the third with the sabre."
"And what was the result of those duels?"
"The first time, he broke my arm; the second, he wounded me in the breast; and the third time, made this large wound." The Englishman turned down his shirt-collar, and showed a scar, whose redness proved it to be a recent one. "So that, you see, there is a deadly feud between us."
"But," said the envoy, "you do not go about it in the right way to kill him, if I understand you correctly."
"Aw?" said the Englishman, "I practice shooting every day, and every other day Grisier comes to my house."
维尔福先生信守着他对腾格拉尔夫人许下的诺言，极力去调查基督山伯爵究竟是怎样发现欧特伊别墅的历史的。他在当天就写信给了波维里先生（波维里先生已经从典狱长了升到了警务部的大臣），向他索要他所需要的情报；后者请求给他两天的时间去进行调查，届时大概就可以把所需的情报提供给他了。第二天晚上，维尔福先生收到下面这张条子：“基督山伯爵有两个好朋友，一个是威玛勋爵，是一个有钱的外国人，行踪不定，目前在巴黎；另一个是布沙尼神甫，是一个在东方广行善事、颇得该地人士称誉的意大利教士。”
维尔福先生回信吩咐严密调查这两个人的一切情况。他的命令很快被执行了，第二天晚上，他接到了一份详细的报告：“神甫到巴黎已经一个月，住在圣·苏尔莫斯教堂后面的一座租来的小房子里，有上下两层，每层有两个房间。接下的两个房间中的一间是餐厅，房子有桌子一张，椅子数把，胡桃木碗柜一只；另一间是镶着壁板的客厅，并无壁饰、地毯或时钟。神甫显然只购置纯对必需的用具。神甫很喜欢楼上的那个起坐间，里面堆满神学书和经典，一个月来，他常常埋头在书堆里，所以那个房间倒不象是起居室，而象是一间书房。他的仆人先要从一个门洞里望一望访客，如果来者绝不认识或不喜欢，就回答说神甫不在巴黎——这个答复能使大多数人满意，因为大家都知道神甫是一位大旅行家。而且，不论是否在家，不论在巴黎或开罗，神甫总留下一些东西施舍给来访的人，那个仆人就用他主人的名义从门洞里把东西分散给人。书房旁边另外那个房间是寝室。全部家具只有一张没有帐子的床、四把圈椅和一只铺黄色天鹅绒厚垫的睡帽。
威玛勋爵住在圣·乔琪街。他是一个英国旅行家，在旅行中花掉的钱特别多。他的房子和家具都是租的，白天只在那里逗留几个钟头，而且极少在那儿过夜。他有一个怪脾气，就是从来不说一句法国话，却能写纯正的法文。”
在检察官得到这些详细情况的第二天，有个人驱车到费洛街的拐角处下车，走去敲一扇深绿色的门，要见布沙尼神甫。
“不在家，他今天一早就出去了。”仆人回答说。
“这个答复不能使我满意，”来客答道，“因为对于派我来的那个人，是没有人会说自己不在家的，还是请你劳神去告诉布沙尼神甫——”
“我已经告诉你他不在家啦！”仆人又说。
“那么，当他回来的时候，把这张名片和这封盖过封印的信交给他。他今天晚上八点钟在不在家？”
“当然在的。除非他在工作，那他也就和出门一样了。”
“那我今晚八点再来。”来客说完，就走了。
果然到了指定时间，那个人还是乘着那辆马车来了，但这一次马车并不停在费洛街的街尾，而是停在那扇绿门前面。
他一敲门，门就开了他走了进去。根据仆人对他的恭敬殷勤的态度上，他看出那封信已产生了预期的效果。“神甫在家吗？”他问。
“是的，他在书房里工作，他在恭候您，先生。”听差回答。来客走上一座很陡的楼梯，迎面看到神甫坐在桌子前面。
桌子上有一盏灯，灯罩很大，把灯光都集中在桌面上，使得房间里其余部分相当黑暗，他看见神甫穿着一件和尚长袍，头上戴着中世纪学者所用的那种头巾。“幸会，幸会，阁下就是布沙尼神甫吗？”来客问。
“是的，阁下，”神甫回答，“而您就是那位以前做过典狱长，现任警察总监波维里先生派来的使者吗？”
“一点不错，阁下。”
“身负巴黎保安重任的一位使者？”
“是的，阁下。”来客犹像了一下，脸也有些红了。
神甫把眼镜架好，这副大眼镜不但遮住两眼，并且连他的颧骨也遮住了，他又重新坐下来，并示意来客也就座。“我悉听您的吩咐，阁下。”神甫带着很明显的意大利口音说。
“我所负的使命，阁下，”来客一字一顿地说，“不论是对完成这项使命的，还是对作为这项使命的对象，都是机密的。”
神甫鞠了一躬。“您的正直，”来客继续说，“总监是早有耳闻的，现在，他作为法官，希望要从您这儿了解一点有关社会治安的情况。为了了解这些情况，他委托我来见您。希望不要碍于友谊或人情而不会使您掩饰事实的真相。”
“阁下，只要您所了解的情况不至于给我带来良心上的不安就行。我是一个教士，阁下，譬如说，人们在忏悔的时候所讲出来的秘密，那就必须由我保留由上帝裁判，而不是保留给人类的法庭。
“您别担心，神甫阁下，我们会尊重您的良心安宁。”
这个时候，神甫把靠近自己那一边的灯罩压得更低一些，另外那一边就翘了起来，使来客的脸被照亮了，而他自己则仍在暗处。
“对不起，神甫阁下，”警察总监的使者说，“灯光太刺眼了。”
神甫把灯罩压低，“现在，阁下，”他说，“我在恭听了，请说吧！”
“我来直截了当地说。您认识基督山伯爵先生吗？”
“我想您是指柴康先生吧？”
“柴康！这么说他不叫基督山？”
“基督山是一个地名，或说得更确切些，是一座岩礁的名字，不是一个姓。”
“好吧，既然基督山先生和柴康先生是一个人，我们就不必在字面上争论了。”
“绝对是一个人。”
“我们就来谈谈柴康先生吧。”
“好吧。”
“我刚才问您认不认识他？”
“我和他很熟。”
“他是谁？”
“一个有钱的马耳他造船商的儿子。”
“我知道，报告上也这么说。但是，您知道，警务部对空泛的报告不会满意的。
“但是，”神甫温和地微笑着答道，“当报告与事实相符的时候，谁都必须相信——别人得相信，警务部也得相信。”
“但您能确信这一点吗？”
“您是什么意思？”
“阁下，我对于您的诚实并无丝毫怀疑，我只是问您，您对于这一点能不能确定？”
“我认识他的父亲柴康先生。”
“啊，啊！”
“小时候，我常常和他的儿子在船坞里玩耍。”
“但他这个伯爵的头衔是哪儿得来的？”
“您知道那是可以买到的。”
“在意大利？”
“到处都行。”
“而他的财产，据一般人说，简直是无限——”
“哦，关于这一点，”神甫说，“‘无限’用得很恰当。”
“您以为他有多少财产？”
“每年十五万至二十万里弗左右的利息。”
“这也在情理之中，”来客说，“我听说他有三四百万呢！”
“每年二千万里弗收益金就得四百万本。”
“但我听说他每年有四百万的利息收入。”
“哦，那是不可信的。”
“您知道那个基督山岛？”
“当然，凡是从巴勒莫、那不勒斯或罗马经海道来的法国人，都知道这个岛，因为他们都必须从岛的附近经过，看得到它。”
“据说那是一个迷人的地方。”
“那是一座岩山。”
“伯爵为什么要买一座岩山呢？”
“为了要做一个伯爵。在意大利，如果想当伯爵，就必须有一处采地。”
“您想必听到过柴康先生青年时代的冒险经历吧？”
“那位父亲？”
“不，他的儿子。”
“这我知道得不确切，那个时期我没有看到我那青年朋友。”
“他去从军了吗？”
“我好象记得他当过兵。”
“加入哪一军种？”
“海军。”
“您作为神甫，他向您忏悔过吗？”
“不，先生，我想他是一个路德教徒。”
“一个路德教徒？”
“我说我想如此，我没有肯定，而且，我以为法国是有信仰自由的。”
“当然，我们现在所调查的不是他的信仰，而他的行动。我代表警察总监请求您把您所知道的关于他的一切都告诉我。”
“大家认为他是一个乐善好施的人。基于他对东方基督教徒所做的杰出贡献，教皇曾封他为基督爵士——这种荣誉一向是只赐给亲王的。他还有五六种尊贵的勋章，都是东方诸国国王报答他种种贡献的纪念品。”
“他戴不戴那些勋章？”
“不戴，但他很以此为荣。他说过他喜欢的是给人类的造福者的褒奖，而不是给人类的破坏者犒赏。”
“那么他是个教友派信徒了？”
“一点不错，他是教友派信徒，只是他从不穿那种古怪的衣服而已。”
“他有没有朋友？”
“有，凡是认识他的人都是他的朋友。”
“但有没有仇人呢？”
“只有一个。”
“那个人叫什么名字？”
“威玛勋爵。”
“他在哪儿？”
“他现在巴黎。”
“他能不能给我一些消息？”
“他可以提供给您重要的消息，他曾在印度和柴康相处过一段日子”
“您知道他住哪儿？”
“大概在安顿大马路那一带，但街名和门牌号码我都不知道。”
“您跟那个英国人关系不好，是吗？”
“我爱柴康，他恨柴康，所以我们关系不太好。”
“您是否以为基督山伯爵在这次访问巴黎以前，从没有到过法国？”
“对于这个问题，我可以打保票。不，阁下，他从来没有到过这儿，因为半年以前，他还向我打听过法国的情况。”因为不知道自己什么时候回巴黎，我就介绍卡瓦尔康蒂先生去见他。”
“安德烈吗？”
“不，是他的父亲，巴陀米奥。”
“阁下，我现在只有一个问题要问了。我凭人格、人道和宗教名义，要求您坦白地回答我。”
“请问吧，阁下。”
“您知不知道基督山先生在欧特伊买房子是什么目的？”
“当然知道，他告诉过我。”
“是什么目的，阁下？”
“他要办一所精神病院，象庇沙尼男爵在巴勒莫所办的那所一样。您知不知道那所精神病院？”
“我听说过。”
“那是一种很了不起的机构。”说完了这句话，神甫就鞠了一躬，表示他要继续做他的研究工作了。来客不知是懂得神甫的意思，还是他再没有别的问题要问了。他站起身来，神甫送他到门口。
“您是一位大慈善家，”来客说，“虽然人家都说您很有钱，但我愿意冒昧地捐献一些东西，请您代我施舍给穷人。您愿不愿意接受我的捐款？”
“谢谢您，阁下，我在世上只有一件事情看得特别重，就是，我所施舍的必须完全出于我自己的经济来源。”
“但是——”
“我的决心是无法改变的，但您只要自己去找，总是找得到的，唉！您可以施舍的对象太多啦。”神甫一面开门，一面又鞠了一躬，来客也鞠躬告辞。那马车又出发了，这一次，它驶到至·乔琪街，停在五号门前，那就是威玛勋爵所住的地方。来客曾写信给威玛勋爵，约定在十点钟的时候前来拜访。
警察总监的使者到的时候是十点差十分，仆人告诉他说，威玛勋爵还没回家，但他为人极守时间，十点钟一定会回来的。
来客在客厅等着，客厅里的布置象其他一切连家具出租的客厅一样。没有特别的地方，一只壁炉，壁炉架上放着两只新式的瓷花瓶：一架挂钟，挂钟顶上连着一具张弓待发的恋爱神童像；一面两边都刻花的屏风一边刻的是荷马盲行图，另一边是贝利赛行乞图；灰色的糊壁纸；用黑色饰边的红色窗帘。这就是威玛勋爵的客厅。房间里点着几盏灯，但毛玻璃的灯罩光线看起来很微弱，象是考虑到警察总监的密使受不了强烈的光线而特意安排的，十分钟以后，挂钟开始敲十点钟，敲到第五下，门开了，威玛勋爵出现在门口。他的个子略高于中等身材，长着暗红色的稀疏的髭须，脸色很白，金黄色的头发已有些灰白。他的衣服完全显示出英国人的特征——就是：一件一八一一年式的高领蓝色上装，上面钉着镀金的纽扣；一件羊毛背心；一条紫花布的裤子，裤脚管比平常的短三吋，但有吊带扣在鞋底上，所以也不会滑到膝头上去。他一进来，就用英语说：“阁下，您知道我是不说法语的。”
“我知道您不喜欢用我国的语言谈话。”密使回答。
“但您可以说法语，”威玛勋爵答道，“因为我虽然不讲这种语言，但我听得懂。”
“而我，”来客改口用英语回答，“我也懂得一些英语，可以用英语谈话。您不必感觉不便。”
“噢！”威玛勋爵用那种只有道地的大不列颠人民才能懂得的腔调说。
密使拿出他的介绍信后，威玛勋爵带着英国人那种冷淡的态度把它看了一遍，看完以后，他仍用英语说，“我明白，我完全明白。”
于是就开始提问。那些问题和问布沙尼神甫的差不多。但因为威玛勋爵是伯爵的仇人，所以他的答案不象神甫那样谨慎，答得随便而直率。他谈了基督山青年时代的情况，他说伯爵在二十岁的时候就在印度一个小王国的军队里服役和英国人作战；威玛就是在那儿第一次和他相见并第一次和他发生战斗。在那场战争里，柴康成了俘虏，被押解到英国，关在一艘囚犯船里，在途中他潜水逃走了。此后他就开始到处旅行，到处决斗，到处闹桃色事件。希腊发生内乱的时候，他在希腊军队里服役。那次服役期间，他在塞萨利山上发现了一个银矿，但他的口风很紧，把这件事瞒过了每一个人。纳瓦里诺战役结束后，希腊政府局面稳定，他向国王奥图要求那个区域的开矿权，国王就给了他。他因此成了巨富。据威玛勋爵的意见，他每年的收入达一两百万之多，但那种财产是不稳定的，一旦银矿枯竭，他的好运也就到头了。
“那么，”来客说，“您知道他到法国来的目的吗？”
“他是来作铁路投机的，”威玛勋爵说，“他是一个老练的药物学家，也是一个同样出色的物理学家，他发明一种新的电报技术，他正在寻门路，想推广他这的新发现哩。”
“他每年花多少钱？”总监的密使问。
“不过五六十万法郎，”威玛勋爵说，“他是一个守财奴。”
英国人之所以这么说显然由于仇恨他的缘故，因为他在别的方面无可指责伯爵，就骂他吝啬。
“您知不知道他在欧特伊所买的那座房子？”
“当然知道。”
“您知道些什么？”
“您想知道他为什么买那所房子吗？”
“是的。”
“伯爵是一个投机家，他将来一定会因为那些乌托邦式的实验弄得自己倾家荡产。他认为在他所买的那座房子附近，有一道象巴尼里斯、罗春和卡德斯那样的温泉。他想把他的房子改成德国人所说的那种‘寄宿疗养院’。他已经把整个花园挖了两三遍，想找到温泉的泉源，但没有成功，所以他不久就会把邻近的房子都买下来。我讨厌他，我希望他的铁路、他的电报技术、他的寻觅温泉会弄得他倾家荡产，我正在等着看他失败，不久他一定会失败的。”
“为什么这么恨他？”
“在英国的时候，他勾引我一个朋友的太太。”
“您为什么不向他报仇呢？”
“我已经和他决斗过三次了，”英国人说，“第一次用手枪，第二次用剑，第三次用双手长剑。”
“那几次决斗的结果如何？？
“第一次，他打断了我的胳膊。第二次，他刺伤了我的胸部。第三次，他给我留下了这个伤疤。”英国人翻开他的衬衫领子，露出一处伤疤，疤痕还是鲜红的，证明这是一个新伤。
“所以我跟他有不共戴天之仇，他一定会死在我的手里。”
“但是，”那位密使说，“据我看来，您似乎不能杀死他呀。”
“噢！”英国人说，“我天天都在练习打靶，每隔一天，格里塞要到我家里来一次。”
来客想打听的事情已完了，说得更确切些，那个英国人所知道的事情似乎尽止于此了。警察总监的使者站起身来告退，向威玛勋爵鞠了一躬，威玛勋爵也按英国人的礼数硬梆梆地还他一礼。当他听到大门关上的声音的时候，他就回到卧室里，一手扯掉他那浅黄色的头发、他那暗红色的髭须、他的假下巴和他的伤疤，重新露出基督山伯爵那种乌黑的头发和洁白的牙齿。至于回到维尔福先生家里去的那个人，也并不是警察总监的密使，而是维尔福先生本人。检察官虽然并没有打听到真正令他满意的消息，但他已安心不少，自从去欧特伊赴宴以来，他第一次安安稳稳地睡了一夜。