Alexandre Dumas: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 44: The Vendetta. (continued)

"There was evidently a severe struggle in the mind of Caderousse; it was plain that the small shagreen case, which he turned over and over in his hand, did not seem to him commensurate in value to the enormous sum which fascinated his gaze. He turned towards his wife. `What do you think of this?' he asked in a low voice. -- `Let him have it -- let him have it,' she said. `If he returns to Beaucaire without the diamond, he will inform against us, and, as he says, who knows if we shall ever again see the Abbe Busoni? -- in all probability we shall never see him.' -- `Well, then, so I will!' said Caderousse; `so you may have the diamond for 45,000 francs. But my wife wants a gold chain, and I want a pair of silver buckles.' The jeweller drew from his pocket a long flat box, which contained several samples of the articles demanded. `Here,' he said, `I am very straightforward in my dealings -- take your choice.' The woman selected a gold chain worth about five louis, and the husband a pair of buckles. worth perhaps fifteen francs. -- `I hope you will not complain now?' said the jeweller.

"`The abbe told me it was worth 50,000 francs,' muttered Caderousse. `Come, come -- give it to me! What a strange fellow you are,' said the jeweller, taking the diamond from his hand. `I give you 45,000 francs -- that is, 2,500 livres of income, -- a fortune such as I wish I had myself, and you are not satisfied!' -- `And the five and forty thousand francs,' inquired Caderousse in a hoarse voice, `where are they? Come -- let us see them.' -- `Here they are,' replied the jeweller, and he counted out upon the table 15,000 francs in gold, and 30,000 francs in bank-notes.

"`Wait while I light the lamp,' said La Carconte; `it is growing dark, and there may be some mistake.' In fact, night had come on during this conversation, and with night the storm which had been threatening for the last half-hour. The thunder growled in the distance; but it was apparently not heard by the jeweller, Caderousse, or La Carconte, absorbed as they were all three with the demon of gain. I myself felt; a strange kind of fascination at the sight of all this gold and all these bank-notes; it seemed to me that I was in a dream, and, as it always happens in a dream, I felt myself riveted to the spot. Caderousse counted and again counted the gold and the notes, then handed them to his wife, who counted and counted them again in her turn. During this time, the jeweller made the diamond play and sparkle in the lamplight, and the gem threw out jets of light which made him unmindful of those which -- precursors of the storm -- began to play in at the windows. `Well,' inquired the jeweller, `is the cash all right?'