Volume I Part 3 (1/2)
”Beauchamp, do you believe in miracles?” asked Chateau-Renaud, suddenly
”That depends Why do you ask?”
”Well, one of ave me his word of honor that he saw Mademoiselle Valentine in Marseilles”
”Before or after the funeral?”
”After, certainly”
”That seems rather wonderful, but one is already accusto hich the Count of Monte-Cristo has any connection as so miraculous”
”Have you heard the fable that the count was a va? What is old Noirtier doing?”
”He has gone to the South; and the Morcerf fa new The father a suicide, the son in Africa, and the lars”
”Yes, only with this difference, that Madaave their whole fortune to the poor”
”I alad for the poor--I--”
”The Benedetto affair is now on,” broke in the voice of the reporter, interrupting their conversation
”Ah--thank you” And with this they all entered the court-roo to a veiled lady who sat near thel--”
”Hush!+ Do not ht, but I cannot understand why she comes in such disreputable company”
The lady spoken about, heavily veiled, held her head on her hand and awaited the beginning of the case Her companion, a thin, yellow, dried-up old man, whose bald head in forht as a stick, and kept his eyes on the crucifix opposite hie
A shudder ran through the lady, but she did not look up as Benedetto entered
CHAPTER VI
BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER
In the meantime the room had becoiven Almost half the spectators were ladies A murmur of curiosity ran about the room, and many ere present re when the prisoner, with the air of a stage hero, let fall the weighty words: ”My father is the royal district-attorney, Monsieur Villefort” Unconsciously all eyes were turned to theto encounter the pale, confused face of the all-powerful judge, who had hied, but only the substitute of the procureur was seen
Benedetto now entered Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud could hardly restrain their astonished so much in three months When they had seen Cavalcanti Benedetto last, he was the type of a parlor hero, and fascinated every one by his pleasing appearance; but the e was another--a broken-down man
His curly hair had been shaved close to the skin, his eyes, which had formerly sparkled with life, were now dim The small, finely formed hands were meekly crossed over the breast, and even the prisoner's clothes harruffly showed hie of the hard wooden bench