"Well, well," said Andrea, "that isn't a bad idea.""My dear friend," said Caderousse, "eat of my bread, and take my advice; you will be none the worse off, physically or morally.""But," said Andrea, "why do you not act on the advice you gave me? Why do you not realize a six months', a year's advance even, and retire to Brussels? Instead of living the retired baker, you might live as a bankrupt, using his privileges; that would be very good.""But how the devil would you have me retire on twelve hundred francs?""Ah, Caderousse," said Andrea, "how covetous you are! Two months ago you were dying with hunger.""The appetite grows by what it feeds on," said Caderousse, grinning and showing his teeth, like a monkey laughing or a tiger growling."And," added he, biting off with his large white teeth an enormous mouthful of bread, "I have formed a plan." Caderousse's plans alarmed Andrea still more than his ideas; ideas were but the germ, the plan was reality."Let me see your plan; I dare say it is a pretty one.""Why not? Who formed the plan by which we left the establishment of M ---- ! eh? was it not I? and it was no bad one I believe, since here we are!""I do not say," replied Andrea, "that you never make a good one; but let us see your plan.""Well," pursued Caderousse, "can you without expending one sou, put me in the way of getting fifteen thousand francs?
No, fifteen thousand are not enough, -- I cannot again become an honest man with less than thirty thousand francs.""No," replied Andrea, dryly, "no, I cannot.""I do not think you understand me," replied Caderousse, calmly; "I said without your laying out a sou.""Do you want me to commit a robbery, to spoil all my good fortune -- and yours with mine -- and both of us to be dragged down there again?""It would make very little difference to me," said Caderousse, "if I were retaken, I am a poor creature to live alone, and sometimes pine for my old comrades; not like you, heartless creature, who would be glad never to see them again." Andrea did more than tremble this time, he turned pale.
"Come, Caderousse, no nonsense!" said he.
"Don't alarm yourself, my little Benedetto, but just point out to me some means of gaining those thirty thousand francs without your assistance, and I will contrive it.""Well, I'll see -- I'll try to contrive some way," said Andrea.
"Meanwhile you will raise my monthly allowance to five hundred francs, my little fellow? I have a fancy, and mean to get a housekeeper.""Well, you shall have your five hundred francs," said Andrea; "but it is very hard for me, my poor Caderousse --you take advantage" --
"Bah," said Caderousse, "when you have access to countless stores." One would have said Andrea anticipated his companion's words, so did his eye flash like lightning, but it was but for a moment."True," he replied, "and my protector is very kind.""That dear protector," said Caderousse; "and how much does he give you monthly?""Five thousand francs."
"As many thousands as you give me hundreds! Truly, it is only bastards who are thus fortunate.Five thousand francs per month! What the devil can you do with all that?""Oh, it is no trouble to spend that; and I am like you, Iwant capital."
"Capital? -- yes -- I understand -- every one would like capital.""Well, and I shall get it."
"Who will give it to you -- your prince?""Yes, my prince.But unfortunately I must wait.""You must wait for what?" asked Caderousse.
"For his death "
"The death of your prince?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
"Because he has made his will in my favor.""Indeed?"
"On my honor."
"For how much?"
"For five hundred thousand."
"Only that? It's little enough "
"But so it is."
"No it cannot be!"
"Are you my friend, Caderousse?"
"Yes, in life or death."
"Well, I will tell you a secret."
"What is it?"
"But remember" --
"Ah, pardieu, mute as a carp."
"Well, I think" -- Andrea stopped and looked around.
"You think? Do not fear; pardieu, we are alone.""I think I have discovered my father."
"Your true father?"
"Yes."
"Not old Cavalcanti?"
"No, for he has gone again; the true one, as you say.""And that father is" --
"Well, Caderousse, it is Monte Cristo."
"Bah!"
"Yes, you understand, that explains all.He cannot acknowledge me openly, it appears, but he does it through M.
Cavalcanti, and gives him fifty thousand francs for it.""Fifty thousand francs for being your father? I would have done it for half that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen thousand; why did you not think of me, ungrateful man?""Did I know anything about it, when it was all done when Iwas down there?"
"Ah, truly? And you say that by his will" --"He leaves me five hundred thousand livres.""Are you sure of it?"
"He showed it me; but that is not all -- there is a codicil, as I said just now.""Probably."
"And in that codicil he acknowledges me.""Oh, the good father, the brave father, the very honest father!" said Caderousse, twirling a plate in the air between his two hands.
"Now say if I conceal anything from you?""No, and your confidence makes you honorable in my opinion;and your princely father, is he rich, very rich?""Yes, he is that; he does not himself know the amount of his fortune.""Is it possible?"
"It is evident enough to me, who am always at his house.The other day a banker's clerk brought him fifty thousand francs in a portfolio about the size of your plate; yesterday his banker brought him a hundred thousand francs in gold."Caderousse was filled with wonder; the young man's words sounded to him like metal, and he thought he could hear the rushing of cascades of louis."And you go into that house?"cried he briskly.
"When I like."
Caderousse was thoughtful for a moment.It was easy to perceive he was revolving some unfortunate idea in his mind.
Then suddenly, -- "How I should like to see all that," cried he; "how beautiful it must be!""It is, in fact, magnificent," said Andrea.
"And does he not live in the Champs-Elysees?""Yes, No.30."
"Ah," said Caderousse, "No.30."
