The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas [264]
"At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying silence which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard a knocking at the door. Caderousse and his wife started and looked aghast at each other. "Who's there?" cried Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a heap the gold and notes scattered over the table, and which he covered with his two hands.—"It is I," shouted a voice.—"And who are you?"—"Eh, pardieu, Joannes, the jeweller."—"Well, and you said I offended the good God," said La Carconte with a horrid smile. "Why, the good God sends him back again." Caderousse sank pale and breathless into his chair. La Carconte, on the contrary, rose, and going with a firm step towards the door, opened it, saying, as she did so—"Come in, dear M. Joannes."—"Ma foi," said the jeweller, drenched with rain, "I am not destined to return to Beaucaire to–night. The shortest follies are best, my dear Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and have returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof." Caderousse stammered out something, while he wiped away the sweat that started to his brow. La Carconte double–locked the door behind the jeweller."
Chapter 45
The Rain of Blood
"As the jeweller returned to the apartment, he cast around him a scrutinizing glance—but there was nothing to excite suspicion, if it did not exist, or to confirm it, if it were already awakened. Caderousse's hands still grasped the gold and bank–notes, and La Carconte called up her sweetest smiles while welcoming the reappearance of their guest. "Well, well," said the jeweller, "you seem, my good friends, to have had some fears respecting the accuracy of your money, by counting it over so carefully directly I was gone."—"Oh, no," answered Caderousse, "that was not my reason, I can assure you; but the circumstances by which we have become possessed of this wealth are so unexpected, as to make us scarcely credit our good fortune, and it is only by placing the actual proof of our riches before our eyes that we can persuade ourselves that the whole affair is not a dream." The jeweller smiled.—"Have you any other guests in your house?" inquired he.—"Nobody but ourselves," replied Caderousse; "the fact is, we do not lodge travellers—indeed, our tavern is so near the town, that nobody would think of stopping here.—"Then I am afraid I shall very much inconvenience you."—"Inconvenience us? Not at all, my dear sir," said La Carconte in her most gracious manner. "Not at all, I assure you."—"But where will you manage to stow me?"—"In the chamber overhead."—"Surely that is where you yourselves sleep?"—'Never mind that; we have a second bed in the adjoining room." Caderousse stared at his wife with much astonishment."
"The jeweller, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood warming his back at the fire La Carconte had kindled to dry the wet garments of her guest; and this done, she next occupied herself in arranging his supper, by spreading a napkin at the end of the table, and placing on it the slender remains of their dinner, to which she added three or four fresh–laid eggs. Caderousse had once more parted with his treasure—the banknotes were replaced in the pocket–book, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole carefully locked in the cupboard. He then began pacing the room with a pensive and gloomy air, glancing from time to time at the jeweller, who stood reeking with the steam from his wet clothes, and merely changing his place on the warm hearth, to enable the whole of his garments to be dried."
""There," said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine on the