The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I | Page 6

the garden of the house. At the same moment he
received a thrust in the side with a knife held by a person who was
concealed, and he sank to the ground unconscious. The man who
attacked my father dug out the box which had been buried, and which

he supposed contained money, and thereby saved my life. He brought
me to the foundling asylum, where I was inscribed as No. 37. Three
months later I was taken from the asylum by the sister-in-law of the
man, who was a Corsican, and brought me to Corsica, where I was
brought up, and in spite of the care of my foster-parents acquired vices
which steeped me in crime."
"And who was your mother?" asked the judge.
"My mother thought I was dead; I am a child of sin; I do not know my
mother and do not wish to know her."
A cry rang through the court-room at this point; a lady had fainted, and
was carried out of the hall by several bystanders.
At this cry the procureur du roi arose, and showed his ghastly face to
the crowd.
"How are you going to prove these astounding revelations?" asked the
judge of the prisoner.
With a malicious look the latter pointed to Monsieur de Villefort.
"Father, they wish to have proofs; do you also want me to give them?"
"No, it is unnecessary; everything you have said is true. I resign my
office, and desire the court to appoint my successor as procureur du
roi," said Monsieur de Villefort, in a faint voice.
"What!" exclaimed the judge, "you, a man whose character is above
suspicion, allow yourself to be intimidated by the crazy declarations of
a criminal! Collect yourself, and crush the malicious accusations with a
word."
Villefort shook his head. With trembling limbs he left the court-room a
broken-down man. The crowd respectfully made way for him, the
extent of his misfortune making a deep impression upon all hearts.
"The court is adjourned until further notice," said the judge. "Policemen,

take your prisoner back to jail."
CHAPTER V
THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE
On the 14th day of January, 1830, three months after the incidents
related in the last chapter, Benedetto's trial was again before the Court
of Special Sessions. Then, as now, life beat rapidly in Paris, one
important thing followed the other, and it came about that the affair of
the handsome "Prince Cavalcanti" was in danger of being tried before
an audience consisting only of lawyers and policemen.
The weather was miserable. The snow fell in thick flakes, and the cold
was so penetrating that it became impossible to remain long out of
doors.
It was about eleven o'clock in the morning when an elegant carriage
stopped in front of the court-house. A gentleman stepped out, and was
about to ascend the broad steps of the building, when he suddenly stood
still. He clapped his monocle to his eye, and loudly exclaimed:
"Ah, Chateau-Renaud!"
"Beauchamp," came back the answer; and the two friends cordially
shook hands.
"Really," said Chateau-Renaud, laughing, "I must be grateful to chance,
which threw me in your way."
"What brings you here?"
"The trial of his highness Prince Benedetto de Cavalcanti, of course."
"I'm here for the same reason. I also wish to see the concluding act of
the drama which has interested Paris so long. Do you think the poor
devil has a chance of escaping the hangman's noose?"

"Hardly--but here we are. Why, the hall is about empty," exclaimed
Beauchamp, wonderingly.
"Does that astonish you? Paris has always been ungrateful, and has
long since forgotten that the Benedetto affair was once an important
topic," replied Chateau-Renaud in a tone of indifference.
"Perhaps the trial has been postponed," said the journalist, and turning
to a reporter of his acquaintance, he hurriedly asked: "Does Benedetto's
trial take place to-day?"
"Benedetto's trial," answered the reporter, musingly: "ah, yes, now I
know--the murder in Monte-Cristo's garden, and, if my memory is right,
I believe the murderer pretends that he is the son of the procureur du roi,
Monsieur de Villefort."
"Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory," laughingly said
Beauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?"
"Certainly, it's the third day of the case."
"Thank you. We can get some refreshments now and pass the time until
the Benedetto case comes up," said Chateau-Renaud.
"If you desire to attend the trial, I will inform you when it's time," said
the reporter, politely.
"You are very kind," answered Beauchamp, as he departed with his
friend.
As they were leaving the corridor, Beauchamp nudged his companion
lightly.
"Every one is not so ungrateful as to forget Benedetto. Debray is here
too."
"Why not?" said Chateau-Renaud. "Debray has plenty of time to
himself since the Ministry was overturned and carried