Chapter 205: Chapter 205

"Yes, you understand. That explains everything. He can’t acknowledge me openly, apparently, but he does it through this Cavalcanti character and pays him fifty thousand francs for the role."

"Fifty thousand francs just for being your father? I would have done it for half that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen thousand! Why didn’t you think of me, you ungrateful man?"

"How could I know? It was all arranged while I was still locked up."

"Ah, true. And you say that in his will..."

"He leaves me five hundred thousand."

"He showed it to me. But that’s not all. There’s an addition, like I mentioned earlier."

"And in that addition, he acknowledges me as his son."

"Oh, what a good father! What a brave father! What an honest father!" Caderousse said, spinning a plate in the air between his hands.

"Now tell me if I’m hiding anything from you." Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs NoveI~Fire.net

"No, and your honesty does you credit. And your princely father, is he rich? Very rich?"

"Yes, he is. He doesn’t even know how much money he has."

"It’s obvious to me. I’m always at his house. The other day, a bank clerk brought him fifty thousand francs in a case about the size of your plate. Yesterday his banker brought him a hundred thousand francs in gold."

Caderousse was amazed. The young man’s words sounded like music to him, and he imagined waterfalls of gold coins.

"And you can just go into that house?" he asked eagerly.

Caderousse fell silent for a moment, clearly turning over some scheme in his mind. Then suddenly, "How I’d love to see all that!" he cried. "How beautiful it must be!"

"It is magnificent," Andrea agreed.

"And doesn’t he live on the Champs-Élysées?"

"Ah," Caderousse said. "Number 30."

"Yes, a fine house standing by itself, between a courtyard and a garden. You must know it."

"Possibly, but it’s not the outside I care about. It’s the inside. What beautiful furniture there must be!"

"Have you ever seen the royal palace?"

"Well, this surpasses it."

"It must be worth your while to pick up whatever that good Monsieur Monte Cristo drops."

"There’s no need to wait for that," Andrea said. "Money is as common in that house as fruit in an orchard."

"You should take me there someday."

"How can I? What excuse would I use?"

"You’re right, but you’ve made my mouth water. I absolutely must see it. I’ll find a way."

"Don’t be foolish, Caderousse!"

"I’ll offer myself as a floor cleaner."

"All the rooms are carpeted."

"Well, then I’ll have to be content imagining it."

"That’s the best plan, believe me."

"At least try to give me some idea of what it’s like."

"Nothing easier. Is it large?"

"How is it arranged?"

"Listen, I’d need pen, ink, and paper to draw you a floor plan."

"They’re all here," Caderousse said quickly.

He pulled a sheet of white paper, a pen, and ink from an old desk.

"Here," Caderousse said. "Draw it all out for me, my boy."

Andrea took the pen with an imperceptible smile and began.

"The house, as I said, is between the courtyard and the garden, . See?" Andrea sketched the garden, the courtyard, and the house.

"Not more than eight or ten feet."

"That’s not very secure," Caderousse observed.

"In the courtyard there are potted orange trees, grass, and flower beds."

"And no security traps?"

"They’re on either side of the gate, which you can see here." Andrea continued drawing the plan.

"Let’s see the ground floor," Caderousse said.

"On the ground floor, there’s a dining room, two drawing rooms, a billiard room, a main staircase in the hall, and a small back staircase."

"Magnificent windows, so beautiful and large that I think a man your size could easily fit through each frame."

"Why the devil would they need stairs with windows like that?"

"Luxury provides everything."

"But what about shutters?"

"Yes, but they’re never used. The Count of Monte Cristo is an eccentric who loves looking at the sky even at night."

"And where do the servants sleep?"

"Oh, they have their own separate building. Imagine a pretty coach house on the right side where the equipment is kept. Well, above that coach house are the servants’ rooms, with bell systems connected to all the different parts of the house."

"Ah! Bells, you say?"

"Oh, nothing! I’m just saying they must cost a fortune to install. What’s the point of them, I wonder?"

"There used to be a guard dog let loose in the yard at night, but it’s been taken to the country house at Auteuil, the one you went to."

"I was telling him just yesterday, ’You’re being careless, Monsieur Count. When you go to Auteuil and take your servants with you, the house is left unprotected.’ And do you know what he said? He just calmly replied, ’So what if it is?’"

"What did he answer?"

"He quietly said, ’What do I care if someone robs me?’"

"Andrea, he must have some desk with a secret compartment."

"Yes, one that catches thieves in a trap and sounds an alarm. I heard they had such things at the last exhibition."

"He just has a simple mahogany desk, and the key is always left in it."

"And he’s never been robbed?"

"No. All his servants are completely devoted to him."

"There must be some money in that desk."

"Maybe. No one knows what’s in there."

"On the first floor."

"Sketch me the plan of that floor like you did for the ground floor, my boy."

"That’s very simple." Andrea took the pen again.

"On the first floor, you see, there’s an anteroom and a drawing room. To the right of the drawing room is a library and a study. To the left is a bedroom and a dressing room. The famous desk is in the dressing room."

"Is there a window in the dressing room?"

"Two. One here and one there." Andrea drew two windows in the room, which formed a corner on the plan and appeared as a small square attached to the rectangle of the bedroom.

Caderousse became thoughtful.

"Does he often go to Auteuil?" he asked.

"Two or three times a week. Tomorrow, for instance, he’s going to spend the whole day and night there."

"He’s invited me to dinner there."

"What a life," Caderousse said. "A town house and a country house."

"That’s what comes with being rich."

"And will you have dinner there?"

"When you dine there, do you sleep there too?"

"If I want to. I’m at home there."

Caderousse looked at the young man as if trying to read the truth in his heart. But Andrea calmly pulled out a cigar case, took out a cigar, lit it leisurely, and began smoking.

"When do you want your twelve hundred francs?" he asked Caderousse.

"Now, if you have them."

Andrea took out twenty-five gold coins from his pocket.

"Gold coins?" Caderousse said. "No, thank you."

"Oh, so you look down on them?"

"On the contrary, I value them highly, but I won’t take them."

"You can exchange them, idiot. Gold is worth five cents more."

"Exactly, and whoever exchanges them will follow friend Caderousse, arrest him, and ask why farmers are paying him rent in gold. No tricks, my friend. Just silver, regular coins with some monarch’s head on them. Anyone can have a five-franc piece."

"But do you think I carry five hundred francs in cash on me? I’d need a porter."

"Well, leave it with your porter. He’s trustworthy. I’ll pick it up from him."

"No, tomorrow. I won’t have time today."

"Fine, tomorrow I’ll leave it when I go to Auteuil."

"Because I’ll hire my housekeeper based on that promise."

"Now listen, is that everything? Will you stop tormenting me?"

Caderousse had become so gloomy that Andrea worried he might have to acknowledge the change in mood. He doubled his cheerfulness and carelessness.

"How lively you are," Caderousse said. "Anyone would think you already owned your inheritance."

"Unfortunately not. But when I do get it..."

"I’ll remember my old friends, I can promise you that."

"Yes, since you have such a good memory."

"What do you want now? Are you trying to squeeze even more out of me?"

"Me? What an idea! I’m about to give you another piece of good advice."

"Leave behind that diamond ring you’re wearing. We’ll both get in trouble. You’ll ruin yourself and me with your foolishness."

"How so?" Andrea asked.

"How? You put on a servant’s uniform, disguise yourself as a servant, and yet you keep a diamond on your finger worth four or five thousand francs."

"Your guess is accurate."

"I know something about diamonds. I’ve owned some."

"You do well to brag about it," Andrea said. But instead of getting angry as Caderousse feared, he calmly removed the ring and handed it over.

Caderousse examined it closely, and Andrea knew he was checking to see if all the facets were perfect.

"It’s a fake diamond," Caderousse declared.

"You’re joking," Andrea replied.

"Don’t get angry. We can test it."

Caderousse went to the window and scratched the glass with the stone. It cut easily.

"I confess!" Caderousse said, slipping the diamond onto his little finger. "I was wrong. But those thieving jewelers imitate stones so well these days that it’s no longer worth robbing a jewelry shop. It’s another industry ruined."

"Are you finished?" Andrea asked. "Do you want anything else? My vest? My hat? Help yourself, now that you’ve started."

"No, after all, you’re a good companion. I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll try to cure myself of my ambition."

"But be careful the same thing doesn’t happen to you when selling the diamond as you feared would happen with the gold."

"I won’t sell it. Don’t worry."

"At least not until the day after tomorrow," the young man thought.

"Lucky devil," Caderousse said. "You’re going back to your servants, your horses, your carriage, and your fiancée!"

"Well, I hope you’ll give me a handsome wedding present when you marry Mademoiselle Danglars."

"I already told you, that’s just a fantasy in your head."

"What’s her fortune?"

"But I’m telling you..."

Andrea shrugged his shoulders.

"Let’s say a million," Caderousse said. "You could never have as much as I wish for you."

"Thank you," the young man said.

"Oh, I wish it for you with all my heart!" Caderousse added with his hoarse laugh. "Wait, let me show you out."

"It’s not necessary."

"Because there’s a little secret, a precaution I thought it wise to take. It’s a special lock I modified myself. I’ll make you a similar one when you become a wealthy man."

"Thank you," Andrea said. "I’ll let you know a week in advance."

They parted ways. Caderousse remained on the landing until he had not only seen Andrea descend the three flights of stairs but also cross the courtyard. Then he hurried back inside, carefully shut his door, and began studying the floor plan Andrea had left him like a clever architect examining blueprints.

"Dear Benedetto," he muttered to himself, "I don’t think he’ll be sorry to inherit his fortune early. And whoever hastens the day when he can claim his five hundred thousand won’t be his worst enemy."