than his father, had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I say the two, because Cardinal Rospigliosi, who had not taken any precaution, was completely despoiled.
“Up to this point,” said Faria, interrupting the thread of his narrative, “this seems to you very meaningless, no doubt, eh?”
“Oh, my friend,” cried Dantes, “on the contrary, it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative; go on, I beg of you.”
“I will.”
“The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. Years rolled on, and amongst the descendants some were soldiers, others diplomatists; some churchmen, some bankers; some grew rich, and some were ruined. I come now to the last of the family, whose secretary I was — the Count of Spada. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune; and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity. He did so, and thus doubled his income. The celebrated breviary remained in the family, and was in the count’s possession. It had been handed down from father to son; for the singular clause of the only will that had been found, had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic, preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. It was an illuminated book, with beautiful Gothic characters, and so weighty with gold, that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity.
“At the sight of papers of all sorts, — titles, contracts, parchments, which were kept in the archives of the family, all descending from the poisoned cardinal, I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents, like twenty servitors, stewards, secretaries before me; but in spite of the most exhaustive researches, I found — nothing. Yet I had read, I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family, for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada; but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi, his companion in misfortune.
“I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family, but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights, which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. I searched, ransacked, counted, calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. It was useless. I remained in my ignorance, and the Count of Spada in his poverty. My patron died. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers, his library, composed of five thousand volumes, and his famous breviary. All these he bequeathed to me, with a thousand Roman crowns, which he had in ready money, on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul, and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. All this I did scrupulously. Be easy, my dear Edmond, we are near the conclusion.
“In 1807, a month before I was arrested, and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada, on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory), I was reading, for the thousandth time, the papers I was arranging, for the palace was sold to a stranger, and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence, intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed, my library, and the famous breviary, when, tired with my constant labor at the same thing, and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten, my head dropped on my hands, and I fell asleep about three o’clock in the afternoon. I awoke as the clock was striking six. I raised my head; I was in utter darkness. I rang for a light, but as no one came, I determined to find one for myself. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. I took a wax-candle in one hand, and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty), with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. Fearing, however, to make use of any valuable piece of paper, I hesitated for a moment, then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary, which was on the table beside me, an old paper quite yellow with age, and which had served as a marker for centuries, kept there by the request of the heirs. I felt for it, found it, twisted it up together, and putting it into the expiring flame, set light to it.
“But beneath my fingers, as if by magic, in proportion as the fire ascended, I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper. I grasped it in my hand, put out the flame as quickly as I could, lighted my taper in the fire itself, and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion, recognizing, when I had done so, that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink, only appearing when exposed to the fire; nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame. It was that paper you read this morning; read it again, Dantes, and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense.”
Faria, with an air of triumph, offered the paper to Dantes, who this time read the following words, traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust: —
“This 25th day of April, 1498, be… Alexander VI., and fearing that not… he may desire to become my heir, and re… and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,… my sole heir, that I have bu… and has visited with me, that is, in… Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss… jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone… may amount to nearly two mil… will find on raising the twentieth ro… creek to the east in a right line. Two open… in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a… which treasure I bequeath and leave en… as my sole heir. “25th April, 1498. “Caes…
“And now,” said the abbe, “read this other paper;” and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it, which Edmond read as follows: —
“… ing invited to dine by his Holiness … content with making me pay for my hat, … serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara … I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada … ried in a place he knows … the caves of the small … essed of ingots, gold, money, … know of the existence of this treasure, which … lions of Roman crowns, and which he … ck from the small … ings have been made … ngle in the second; … tire to him … ar Spada.”
Faria followed him with an excited look. “and now,” he said, when he saw that Dantes had read the last line, “put the two fragments together, and judge for yourself.” Dantes obeyed, and the conjointed pieces gave the following: —
“This 25th day of April, 1498, be… ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI., and fearing that not… content with making me pay for my hat, he may desire to become my heir, and re… serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned… I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada, my sole heir, that I have bu… ried in a place he knows and has visited with me, that is, in… the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss… ssed of ingots, gold, money, jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone… know of the existence of this treasure, which may amount to nearly two mil… lions of Roman crowns, and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro… ck from the small creek to the east in a right line. Two open… ings have been made in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a… ngle in the second; which treasure I bequeath and leave en… tire to him as my sole heir. “25th April, 1498. “Caes… ar Spada.”
“Well, do you comprehend now?” inquired Faria.
“It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada, and the will so long sought for,” replied Edmond, still incredulous.
“Yes; a thousand times, yes!”
“And who completed it as it now is?”
“I did. Aided by the remaining fragment, I guessed the rest; measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper, and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed, as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us.”
“And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?”
“I resolved to set out, and did set out at that very instant, carrying with me the beginning of my great work, the unity of the Italian kingdom; but for some time the imperial police (who at this period, quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him, wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me; and my hasty departure, the cause of which they were unable to guess, having aroused their suspicions, I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino.
“Now,”