| OCR Text |
Show CONDENSED I CLASSICS I i THE COUNT OF t t MONTE CRISTO t i x x .i. By ALEXANDRE DUMAS, SR. Condensation by J Alfred S. Clark to y ...'-...m,mV,.',.,..,,..V.V1? NT H Alexandre I) it -niUH tvas of mixed blood, the grrnnil-on grrnnil-on of a French marqnts and a native na-tive of the West Indies. Ills own father warn n private pri-vate In the French army when the revolution broke oat. He was svrlf t-ly t-ly promoted until he held the rank of general In chief In Spain, but he quarreled with Napoleon, and when he died he left but 30 acres of land to his widow and two children. Alexandre was born on July 2-1, 1S02, In a town not far from Solssons. As a boy he had few advantLges, for his mother was poor. He was, bow-ever, bow-ever, carefully Instructed by a kindly priest. He then studied law, but his desire to write drove htm to Paris, where he began his career by penning Vaudeville sketches and melodramas. He wrote plays for several years and his "Henri III" scored the first Croat success of the romantic drama. Short stories appeared at Intervals, and then his novels. "The Three Musketeers" came out In 1S44, and thereafter romance ro-mance after romance came In such rapid succession that his collected works In French fill 227 volumes. lie told Xnpoleon HI that he had written V200 books. Prodigiously as he worked he wasted lust as prodigiously. He entertained a whole army of parasites, and In his last years was constantly harassed by creditors. He had married In 1S40 Ida Ferrler, an actress, but they did not long live together. His daughter came to his aid in 180S when he was debt-ridden debt-ridden and ill, and two years later, on December 5, 1870, he died In the bonie of his son, the author of the popular "Camllle." ON February 28, 1815, Edmond Dantes sailed into Marseilles. He was but nineteen years of age find ardently in love. His1 conscience con-science was clear; he had violated no law. Yet the next night he was In a cell in the gloomy Chateau d'lf, a fortress for-tress on a bare rock off Marseilles. And fourteen years were to pass before be-fore he strode again in the sunlight. Three men had wrought his ruin. Danglars envied Edmond's rapid promotion. pro-motion. Fernand was crazed with love for Mercedes, Edmond's beloved. Danglars Dan-glars wrote and Fernand dispatched a letter warning the authorities to intercept inter-cept the missive Edmond was bearing to Paris. Chance decreed that this warning, addressed to Villefort's father, fa-ther, fell Into the hands of the unscrupulous un-scrupulous Villefort himself. Of this dark intrigue Edmond knew nothing. At his captain's dying request, re-quest, he had called at Elba where he had seen the captive Napoleon and been intrusted with a sealed letter. Villefort, a turn-coat devoted to the aristocracy, had changed his name to make men forget that his father was a Bonnpartist. He destroyed the incriminating in-criminating letter before Edmond's eyes and promised that the lad should soon be free. Even as he spoke the words, he knew that In the disappearance disappear-ance of this youth lay his own security. Thus it hanDeiied that while the Corsican came out of Elba by stealth and rode to Paris amid tumultuous cheers, Edmond lay In a dungeon. The thunder of the guns at Waterloo did not penetrate the walls of the Chateau d'lf. Napoleon was borne away to St. Helena ; the Hundred days were over. And Dantes knew naught of these things. He ate out his heart In thoughts of Mercedes and wondered what mad freak of fortune had thrust ; him away from the world of men. Daj's dragged Into years. He lost track of time. Confined in a black and slimy dungeon, he saw only his Jailer. There were moments when he hoped, hours when he despaired, weeks when he raved In Impotent anger. Four years rolled past. He was starving himself to death. Then he heard a rasping, scratching noise. The spark of humnn hope burned anew. He swallowed his broth ; he must win back his strength. Somewhere near him was a human mole, burrowing stealthily, worming toward to-ward freedom. Four days later a section of flooring floor-ing fell In and out of a dark tunnel sprang an old man. He was the Abbe Farla, a prisoner for eight years. His tnnnel, dug with arduous toll, had failed to reach the sunlight, but It led to fellowship. Unsuspected by their Jailers, the two men met dally and studied nnweariedly. Out of his ripe wisdom and his prodigious memory, the Abbe taught Edmond mathematics, history and languages. Bess guileless than Edmond, be was able to prove, from the youth's own story, that Danglars, Femand and Villefort were responsible for his living liv-ing death. So Edmond had a new Incentive In-centive for freedom. He sought revenge. re-venge. The Abbe revealed too the secret se-cret of the great treasure of gold and jewels that lay In a cave on Monte Cristo. an uninhabited Island orf Italy. The years rolled on. Another attempt at-tempt to escape was frustrated by the paralysis of the Abbe's right side. Edmond Ed-mond refused to leave him. He was 1 very different man from the carefree sailor who had been so suddenly jerked from the gayety of a marriage feast to the gloom of a dungeon. He was a man of the worlo! educated, cynical. ' One night he heard a cry' of anguish. Hurriedly lie rolled aside the great stone that concealed the tunnel opening, open-ing, crawled swiftly to his neighbor's cell, lie found him writhing in agony. At dawn he was dead. That night Eilinond carried tlu-oorpse tlu-oorpse to his own cell and laid it on his own bed. face to the wall, so thai the jailer would think it Edmond asleep. Secreting a crude knife with which to effect an escape, he then sewed himself into the coarse sack in which the jailers bad put the body. Two men later bore out. the supposed corpse, weighted the legs with a great Iron ball, and swung the sack powerfully, power-fully, Edmond suddenly realized that he was falling from a great height. He had been flung from the chateau roof into the sen. He screamed aloud as he struck the water and then the weight dragged him Into the ice-cold depths. He ripped open the sack, convulsively cut the rope that was knotted to the shot, and rose to tho surface. He had not forgotten for-gotten how to swim. He struck out in the blackness for an islet. Just as he was losing hope, his knee struck rock. He staggered to bis feet and above him rose a gloomy mass, his goal. At daybreak he flung himself Into the sea and was pulled aboard an outward-bound bark. Each moment Marseilles Mar-seilles receded further into the distance, dis-tance, ne learned from bis shipmates that it was February 2S, 1S29. He had been shut away from the world for 14 years. He wondered what hud become of Mercedes. Then he thought of Danglars, Fernand and Villefort. A' baleful light flickered In his hard eyes. Edmond had fallen in with a band of smugglers. On one of their voyages, voy-ages, he gazed eagerly at a granite mass rose-hued In the dawn. It was Monte Cristo. A few weeks later chance brought him to the Island. None of his comrades suspected the leaping thoughts that thronged in Edmond's Ed-mond's mind. They were simple folk, easily deceived. Edmond fell from a rock, and complained that he was so hurt that he could not move. He was confident, he insisted, that he could cure himself if he were left here. At last they sailed away. When the boat was out of sight, he leaped to his feet, seized his pickax, and cried "Open, Sesame !" He was alone on Monte Cristo. Following the clues of the Abbe's ancient manuscript, he located the great slab of rock, overgrown with vegetation. veg-etation. He slashed at the edges with his pickax and made a hole. With his horn of powder, he easily blasted the rock awny. Before him was an Iron ring embedded in a flagstone. He raised it and saw a flight of stairs. With hope mingled with a strange misgiving, mis-giving, he descended, broke open a passage into an inner cave, and dug awny the earth over an oak coffer bound with iron. lie burst It open and there blazed gold coins, bars of gold, diamonds, rubies and pcnrls that glittered in glorious profusion. When Edmond came back to France, It was as the count of Monte Cristo fabulously wealthy, romantic in np-pearancc, np-pearancc, a performer of miracles. His betrayers had risen to heights of fame and affluence. Danglars was a wealthy banker; Fernand an honorca warrior; AHIlofort high In office. Mercedes, Mer-cedes, believing Edmond dead, had yielded to Fernand's Importunate pleadings nnd had married Jilm. Zealously did the count of Monte Cristo devote his days and .nights to ruin these three. Unually It was In his own unrecognized narsonallry that be dazzled Paris with his feasts, his extravagances, his prodigal outlays. Everyone paid court to this mysterious mysteri-ous stranger who rained gold about hlm. Sometimes be disguised himself now as the Abbe Busonl, now as the Italian Znzzone, now as the English Lord Wilmore, now as Slnbad the sailor. He tortured Danglars, Fernand, Villefort, methodically and yet so skilfully that they did not know the hand that directed the blows that fell upon them. Piece by piece Danglars' fortune was lopped away. At last he was beggared, the bitterest blow that could have befallen hhn. Fomnld, enmeshed en-meshed slowly In revelations of his guilty past, finally blew out his brains; Villefort, bis crimes dragged Into the light of day, went raving mad. Mercedes, Mer-cedes, made poor, but happy In the love of her devoted son, lived on, penitent. pen-itent. Yet were there those whom Mont? Cristo rewarded. The noble Morrel, his former employer, was saved from bankruptcy by a mysterious Englishman English-man who presented him with notes he cnnld not meet. And on the uninhabited uninhabit-ed Island of Monte Cristo, Morrel's son, true and tried as bis father, learned that Villefort's daughter, the girl who had remained fine through nil vicissitudes, still lived. She stood beside be-side him on the plnnncle of the Island and they looked with blurred eyes Into the distance, where each moment a ship grew fainter and fainter. It was bearing from their sight the man who had once been Edmond Datites. With him was the radiant ITaydi'e, the mysterious princess, whose beatify had ontRhon" nil the beauties of Paris. In her love Edmond hnd at last forgotten all that he lld not now want to remember. re-member. Copyrleht. 1519. by the Pont rut.llshlne: Co. (The P.o?1on Post). OnpyrliTht In the United Kingdom, iht) Dominions, its Cnt-onies Cnt-onies and (l'-pcmhinctc-H. lind'T thi coriy-rlKht coriy-rlKht act, by the Post Publishing Co., Boston, Mass., U. S. A. AU rit'hta reserved. |
