Chapter 71: The Story: III
"What became of him? He left town and was hired, on Monsieur Morrel’s recommendation, who didn’t know about his crime, as a cashier at a Spanish bank. During the war with Spain, he worked in the French army’s supply department and made a fortune. Then he used that money to speculate in government bonds and tripled or quadrupled his capital.
First he married his banker’s daughter, who died and left him a widower, then he married a second time, a widow, Madame de Nargonne, daughter of a high-ranking court official who’s in great favor with the king. He’s a millionaire now, and they’ve made him a baron. Now he’s Baron Danglars, with a magnificent mansion on an expensive street, ten horses in his stables, six servants in his entrance hall, and who knows how many millions in his vault."
"Ah!" the priest said in a peculiar tone, "he is happy."
"Happy? Who can answer that? Happiness or unhappiness is a secret known only to oneself and the walls, and walls have ears but no tongue. But if great wealth brings happiness, then Danglars is happy."
"And Fernand?"
"Fernand? Much the same story."
"But how could a poor fisherman’s son, without education or resources, make such a fortune? I confess this puzzles me."
"And it has puzzled everyone. There must have been some strange secret in his life that no one knows."
"But then, by what visible steps did he achieve this high fortune and position?"
"Both, sir, he has both fortune and position."
"This seems impossible!"
"It would seem so, but listen, and you’ll understand. A few days before the old emperor’s return, Fernand was drafted into the army. The royal family left him alone while he lived with the fishing community, but when the emperor returned, there was a special military levy, and Fernand was forced to join. I went too, but since I was older than Fernand and had just married my poor wife, I was only sent to coastal duty. Fernand was enrolled in the active forces, went to the frontier with his regiment, and fought in a major battle.
The night after that battle, he was standing guard at the tent of a general who was secretly corresponding with the enemy. That same night, the general planned to desert to the English side. He offered to take Fernand with him, and Fernand agreed. He abandoned his post and followed the general. Fernand would have been court-martialed if the emperor had remained in power, but his action was rewarded by the royal family when they returned. He came back to France with the rank of second lieutenant, and with the protection of the general, who was highly favored, he became a captain in 1823, during the Spanish war. That’s when Danglars was making his early financial speculations.
Fernand, being of Spanish origin, was sent to Spain to gauge his countrymen’s loyalty. There he found Danglars, became very close to him, won over the support of the royalist faction in the capital and provinces, received promises and made pledges on his own behalf, and guided his regiment through mountain passes known only to him, passes held by the royalists. In fact, he rendered such valuable services in this brief campaign that, after the capture of an important fortress, he was made colonel and received the title of count and the cross of officer in the Legion of Honor."
"Destiny! Destiny!" the priest murmured.
"Yes, but listen, this wasn’t all. When the war with Spain ended, Fernand’s career was stalled by the long peace that seemed likely to last throughout Europe. Only Greece had risen against Turkey and begun its war of independence. Everyone’s attention was focused on Athens, it was fashionable to pity and support the Greeks. The French government, while not openly protecting them, you know, encouraged volunteer assistance.
Fernand sought and obtained permission to go serve in Greece, while keeping his name on the army rolls. Some time later, it was reported that the Count de Morcerf, this was the name he now bore, had entered the service of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructor-general. Ali Pasha was killed, as you know, but before he died, he rewarded Fernand’s services by leaving him a considerable sum. With this money, he returned to France and was promoted to lieutenant-general."
"So now?" the priest inquired.
"So now," Caderousse continued, "he owns a magnificent house at No. 27, Rue du Helder, Paris."
The priest’s mouth opened, he hesitated for a moment, then, making an effort at self-control, he said, "And Mercédès,.they tell me she has disappeared?"
"Disappeared," Caderousse said, "yes, as the sun disappears, only to rise the next day with even more brilliance."
"Has she also made a fortune?" the priest asked with an ironic smile.
"Mercédès is at this moment one of the most prominent ladies in Paris," Caderousse replied.
"Continue," the priest said. "It seems as if I’m listening to a dream. But I have seen such extraordinary things that what you’re telling me seems less astonishing than it might otherwise."
"Mercédès was at first in the deepest despair over the blow that took Edmond from her. I’ve told you about her attempts to win over the prosecutor, her devotion to the elder Dantès. In the midst of her despair, a new affliction struck her, the departure of Fernand. She didn’t know about his crime and regarded him as a brother.
"Fernand left, and Mercédès remained alone. Three months passed, and still she wept. No news of Edmond, no news of Fernand, no companionship except that of an old man who was dying of despair. One evening, after a day spent as usual watching at the crossroads leading from the fishing village to the main city, she returned home more depressed than ever. Suddenly she heard a familiar footstep, turned anxiously around, the door opened, and Fernand, dressed in the uniform of a second lieutenant, stood before her.
It wasn’t the one she most wished to see, but it seemed as if a part of her past life had returned to her. Mercédès grasped Fernand’s hands with an intensity he mistook for love, but which was only joy at no longer being alone in the world and finally seeing a friend after long hours of solitary sorrow. And then, it must be admitted, Fernand had never been hated, he simply hadn’t been loved. Another man possessed all of Mercédès’ heart, and that man was absent, had disappeared, perhaps was dead.
At this last thought, Mercédès burst into tears and wrung her hands in agony. But the thought she had always rejected when others suggested it to her now came with full force to her mind. And then, too, old Dantès constantly said to her, ’Our Edmond is dead. If he weren’t, he would return to us.’ The old man died, as I told you. Had he lived, Mercédès might not have become another man’s wife, for he would have been there to reproach her unfaithfulness.
Fernand saw this opportunity, and when he learned of the old man’s death, he returned. He was now a lieutenant. At his first return, he hadn’t spoken a word of love to Mercédès. At his second, he reminded her that he loved her. Mercédès begged for six more months to wait and mourn for Edmond."
"So that," the priest said with a bitter smile, "makes eighteen months in total. What more could the most devoted lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of an old saying, "’Frailty, thy name is woman.’"