Chapter 213: Chapter 213

The president read: ’Mister President, I can provide the inquiry committee with important information about Lieutenant-General Count Morcerf’s conduct in Epirus and Macedonia.’

He paused. Your father had gone even paler. The president glanced around the room. ’Continue,’ everyone said.

’I was present at the death of Ali Pasha. I witnessed his final moments. I know what happened to Vasiliki and Haydée. I’m at the committee’s disposal and request the honor of testifying. I’ll be waiting in the lobby when this note is delivered.’

’Who is this witness?’ your father demanded, his voice shaking. ’Or should I say, this enemy?’

’We’ll find out,’ the president replied. ’Is the committee willing to hear this witness?’

’Yes!’ everyone said at once.

A guard was called. ’Is someone in the lobby?’ the president asked.

’A woman with a servant.’

Everyone looked at each other in surprise. ’Bring her in,’ the president ordered.

Five minutes later, the guard reappeared. Every eye was fixed on the door. I was just as curious and anxious as everyone else.

Behind the guard walked a woman wrapped in a large veil that completely concealed her features. From her figure and the expensive perfume she wore, you could tell she was young and refined, but that was all.

The president asked her to remove her veil. When she did, everyone saw she was dressed in traditional Greek clothing, and she was breathtakingly beautiful."

"It was her," Albert whispered.

"I just... I guessed. But keep going, Beauchamp. I’m calm. I can handle this. We must be near the end now."

"Your father," Beauchamp continued slowly, "stared at this woman with pure terror. Her lips were about to decide whether he lived or died. For the committee, this was so extraordinary that their concern for your father’s safety became secondary. They were captivated by the drama unfolding before them.

The president moved forward to offer the young woman a chair, but she declined. As for your father, he’d collapsed into his seat. His legs couldn’t support him anymore.

’Madame,’ the president said, ’you’ve stated that you have important information about the events at Yanina, and that you were an eyewitness.’

’I was indeed,’ she replied. Her voice was melodic and sad, with the musical quality typical of people from the East.

’But you must have been very young.’

’I was four years old. But these events affected me so deeply that I remember every single detail.’

’How could these events concern someone so young? Who are you, and why did they make such a powerful impression?’

’They determined whether my father would live or die,’ she answered. ’I am Haydée, daughter of Ali Tepelini, Pasha of Yanina, and his beloved wife Vasiliki.’

The young woman’s face flushed with a mixture of pride and modesty. Her eyes shone, and her words created an indescribable effect on everyone in the room. Your father looked like a man watching the ground crack open beneath his feet.

’Madame,’ the president said, bowing respectfully, ’allow me one final question. Can you prove what you’ve just claimed?’

’I can, sir.’ Haydée reached beneath her veil and pulled out a perfumed satin pouch. ’Here is my birth certificate, signed by my father and his officers. Here is my baptism record, my father allowed me to be raised in my mother’s Christian faith. This document was sealed by the grand religious leader of Macedonia and Epirus. And finally, perhaps most importantly, here is the bill of sale for myself and my mother. We were sold to an Armenian merchant named El-Kobbir by a French officer. This officer had made a deal with the Ottoman government, and as his share of the plunder, he kept the wife and daughter of his benefactor. He sold us for four hundred thousand francs.’

Your father’s face turned a sickly greenish-pale. His eyes became bloodshot as he listened to these terrible accusations. The entire room sat in ominous silence.

Haydée remained calm, but it was a terrifying calmness, more frightening than rage. She handed the president the bill of sale, written in Arabic.

They’d anticipated some documents might be in Arabic, Greek, or Turkish, so a translator was standing by. One of the members who’d served in the Egyptian military campaign knew Arabic and followed along as the translator read aloud:

’I, El-Kobbir, slave merchant and supplier to his highness’s harem, acknowledge receiving, for transmission to the supreme emperor, from the French lord Count of Monte Cristo, an emerald valued at eight hundred thousand francs. This is payment for the ransom of a young Christian slave girl, eleven years old, named Haydée. She is the acknowledged daughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, Pasha of Yanina, and his favorite, Vasiliki. She was sold to me seven years earlier, along with her mother, who died upon arriving at Constantinople. The seller was a French colonel in the service of Vizier Ali Tepelini, named Fernand Mondego. The original purchase was made on his highness’s account, with proper authorization, for the sum of four hundred thousand francs.

’Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in the year 1247 of the Hegira. Signed, El-Kobbir.’

’To ensure this document has full authority, it bears the imperial seal, which the seller is required to obtain.’

Near the merchant’s signature was indeed the seal of the Ottoman emperor.

A dreadful silence followed. Your father could only stare at Haydée, his gaze filled with fire and blood.

’Madame,’ the president said carefully, ’may we verify this with the Count of Monte Cristo, who I believe is currently in Paris?’

’Sir,’ Haydée replied, ’the Count of Monte Cristo, my foster father, has been in Normandy for the past three days.’

’Then who advised you to take this step? The court is deeply grateful, and it seems natural given your background and your suffering.’

’Sir, I was motivated by respect and grief. I’m a Christian now, but may God forgive me, I’ve always sought to avenge my father. Since arriving in France and learning the traitor lived in Paris, I’ve watched carefully. I live quietly in my protector’s house by choice. I love solitude and silence because I can live with my thoughts and memories. But the Count of Monte Cristo provides me with paternal care and keeps me informed of everything happening in the world. In the quiet of my rooms, I read all the newspapers, magazines, and new publications. That’s how I learned what happened in the House of Peers this morning and what would happen tonight. So I wrote this letter.’

’Then the Count of Monte Cristo doesn’t know about your actions?’

’He’s completely unaware. My only fear is that he might disapprove. But this is a glorious day for me’, she raised her eyes toward heaven, ’when I finally find an opportunity to avenge my father!’

Your father hadn’t said a single word through all of this. His colleagues were looking at him with pity. His entire future was being destroyed by the perfumed breath of this woman. Misery was written across his face in dark lines.

’Monsieur de Morcerf,’ the president said, ’do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, Pasha of Yanina?’ New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel⸺fire.net

’No,’ your father said, trying to stand. ’This is a vicious plot by my enemies.’

Haydée’s eyes had been fixed on the door, as if expecting someone. But when she heard his words, she spun around. Seeing him standing there denying her, she screamed.

’You don’t know me? Well, I recognize YOU! You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer who commanded my father’s troops! You surrendered the castle of Yanina! You went to Constantinople supposedly to negotiate with the emperor for my father’s life, but you brought back a false pardon! You used that fake document to get my father’s ring, which gave you authority over Selim, the fire-keeper! You stabbed Selim! You sold my mother and me to the merchant El-Kobbir! Murderer! Murderer! MURDERER! You still have my master’s blood on your forehead! Look, gentlemen, all of you!’

Her words rang with such passion and obvious truth that every eye turned to your father’s forehead. He himself touched it, as if he could feel Ali’s blood still staining his skin.

’You positively recognize Monsieur de Morcerf as the officer Fernand Mondego?’

’I absolutely do!’ Haydée cried. ’Oh, my mother told me before she died: "You were free. You had a beloved father. You were destined to be almost a queen. Look carefully at that man. He’s the one who displayed your father’s head on a spear. He’s the one who sold us. He’s the one who abandoned us. Look at his right hand, he has a large wound there. If you forget his face, you’ll know him by that hand. Into that hand fell, one by one, the gold coins from the merchant El-Kobbir." I know him! Let him try to say he doesn’t recognize me!’

Each word was like a dagger. Your father was losing what little strength he had left. At her final accusation, he quickly hid his scarred hand inside his coat and collapsed back into his seat, completely overwhelmed.

This scene completely changed the committee’s opinion.

’Count Morcerf,’ the president said, ’don’t give up. Defend yourself. The justice of this court is supreme and impartial, like the justice of God. We won’t let you be destroyed by your enemies without giving you a chance to fight back. Should we conduct further inquiries? Should we send representatives to Yanina? Speak!’

Your father didn’t reply. The committee members looked at each other in shock. They knew his fierce, violent temper. For him to be silenced , it must have been a devastating blow. They expected his stunned silence to explode into rage.

’Well,’ the president asked, ’what do you decide?’

’I have nothing to say,’ your father whispered.

’Has the daughter of Ali Tepelini spoken the truth? Is she the terrible witness whose accusations you cannot deny? Have you really committed these crimes?’

Your father looked around with an expression that might have softened wild animals, but it couldn’t move his judges. He glanced up toward the ceiling, then quickly looked away, as if afraid the roof might open to reveal heaven itself, that higher court with God as judge.

Then, with a sudden movement, he tore open his coat as if it were suffocating him and ran from the room like a madman. His footsteps echoed in the corridor for a moment, then came the sound of his carriage wheels as he was driven rapidly away.

’Gentlemen,’ the president said when silence returned, ’is the Count of Morcerf convicted of treason, felony, and conduct unbecoming a member of this House?’

’Yes,’ replied every member of the committee in unison.

Haydée remained until the end of the meeting. She heard the verdict without showing joy or pity. Then, drawing her veil back over her face, she bowed majestically to the council members and left with the dignified walk of a goddess in an ancient epic."