CHAPTER XXXVIII
RECOLLECTIONS
Signor Fagiano stood in the beautiful parlor, and a malicious smileplayed about his lips.
The banker entered now. The scene in the painter's garden would notvanish from his mind. Fagiano had approached him then and triumphantlywhispered:
"Monsieur de Larsagny, I know your past."
Larsagny had uttered a cry of terror.
"If I am to remain silent," Fagiano had added, "I must have money."
"But who are you?"
Whereupon the answer had come:
"Take care that you do not find out my name too soon."
With inward fear the banker approached the Italian to-day.
"Signor Fagiano, what brings you here to-day? This is the second timethat you have crossed my path, and I hope it will be the last. I do notknow you, you do not know me, and I cannot understand to what I amindebted for the honor of your visit. I am very patient, but everythinghas its limits, and only the position I occupy prevents me from throwingyou out."
"Call your servants, Monsieur de Larsagny. I have no fear ofpublicity," said Fagiano, boldly.
The banker grasped the bell-rope, but let his hand fall again, andFagiano, who noticed this, mockingly observed:
"Why do you hesitate? Would you prefer to finish our interview withoutwitnesses?"
"Impudent puppy!" hissed Larsagny.
"Do not get excited! Let us come to the point."
"I have been waiting for that a long time," growled Larsagny; "tell me,first of all, who are you?"
Fagiano drew nearer to the banker, and, grinning, said:
"You really do not recognize me?"
"No."
The Italian laughed loudly.
"Then give me two hundred thousand francs," said Fagiano, "and I willdisappear forever."
"I would be a fool to give an unknown person a single sou."
"You really do not know my name, then?"
"No."
"H'm; but I know yours."
"That isn't a great thing. My name is known on the street and at Court."
"Yes, the name of Larsagny; as Monsieur Danglars you are also known,though in a different way."
Larsagny trembled and was about to fall.
"You lie!" he hissed.
"What would you say if I told your sovereign that the man he put at thehead of the syndicate is only one of that crowd of unhanged thieves whoroam about in the world?"
"Wretch, you will say nothing of the kind," cried Danglars (for it wasreally he); and putting his hand in his breast-pocket he drew forth arevolver and held it at the Italian's breast.
"Softly, softly," said Fagiano, as he took the weapon away from thebanker and put it in his pocket. "A little while ago I asked for twohundred thousand francs; now I must increase my demand to half amillion."
"You are a fool," said Danglars, pale with rage. "You will never get asou from me."
"Have no fear about that; as soon as I threaten to expose you, you willsubmit; I have some piquant details _in petto_."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I will announce your name at the same time as mine."
"What has that got to do with me?"
"More than you think. Don't you really know me?"
"No."
"So much the worse. But tell me, baron, is Carmen really your daughter?"
"But--who--gives--you--the right--" said Danglars, stammering.
"Next you will deny that you ever had a wife?"
"Leave my wife's name alone."
"Good. Then let us talk of your daughter who is much older and does notbear the name of Carmen."
Danglars hid his face in his hands.
"Baron, you are the friend of the emperor and are very rich, and no onesuspects that Baron Larsagny is the former forger and swindler Danglars.One word from me and you sink deep in the mud. It depends on you whetherI am to be your friend or your enemy."
"Ah, now I know who you are," said the banker, springing up. "You areAndrea Cavalcanti."
"Right," laughed Fagiano.
"Now I remember. You put a title to your name, played the heir of agreat fortune, and entered into near relations with my family. Animpudence which the avenging arm of the law punished."
"Yes, I am Benedetto the murderer--Benedetto the criminal. But do youknow who my father was?"
"Yes, I heard about the scandalous trial; I was not in France at thetime, but--Go on, you," urged Danglars.
"And do you also know the name of my mother, baron?"
"No."
"Well, then, my mother was--the Baroness Danglars."
"The miserable creature--the wretch!" cried Danglars, hoarsely. "Butno--you lie, it cannot be so."
"She was my mother," said Benedetto, accenting the word _was_.
"She was? Is she dead?" asked Danglars, softly.
"Yes, I killed her."
"Horrible," groaned Danglars, wringing his hands.
"If you want proofs," continued Benedetto, coldly, "here they are."
He took Anselmo's writing out of his pocket and handed it to the banker.
"Read," he said, indifferently.
"What do you want from me?" murmured Danglars, hoarsely.
"First, money, and then let us talk further."
"You shall have what you want," replied Danglars.
"Good; now comes the second point."
"Do not torture me any longer," said Danglars.
"Have you forgotten who it was that humiliated you, trod you in thedust?" said Benedetto, laying his hand on the banker's shoulder. "Thatman is your bad genius as well as mine. It was the Count of Monte-Cristowho taught me the pleasures of life only to throw me back to the Bagnioagain. Since I have been free I dream of revenge against him. I know thespot where he is mortal. Can I count on your support?"
"Yes; but I fear our attempts will be fruitless."
"Fruitless? I swear to you that we shall be successful."
"But he is a supernatural man. You might as well attack God."
"And yet he has an Achilles heel! Once more, will you help me?"
"Yes; but I do not understand you."
"The whole of the Count of Monte-Cristo's affection is centred in hisson, and through this son we must strike him. He shall suffer all thetortures of hell, and in his son, whom he idolizes, we shall punishhim."
"Now I understand you," said Danglars.
"In the first place, you must give me money, and then wait until I callyou."
"And you guarantee that the grief will kill him?"
"Yes, I guarantee it."
"Then I am yours."
The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume II Page 39
