Chapter 72: The Story: IV
"Six months later," Caderousse continued, "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules."
"The very church where she was supposed to have married Edmond," the priest murmured. "There was only a change of grooms."
"Well, Mercédès was married," Caderousse proceeded, "but although she appeared calm to the world, she nearly fainted as she passed La Réserve, where eighteen months before, her engagement had been celebrated with the man she might have realized she still loved, had she looked deep into her heart. Fernand, happier but not more at ease, for I could see at this time he was constantly afraid of Edmond’s return, was very anxious to get his wife away and to leave himself. There were too many unpleasant memories associated with the fishing village, and eight days after the wedding, they left for good."
"Did you ever see Mercédès again?" the priest asked.
"Yes, during the Spanish war, at Perpignan, where Fernand had left her. She was overseeing her son’s education."
The priest started. "Her son?" he said.
"Yes," Caderousse replied, "little Albert."
"But to be able to teach her child," the priest continued, "she must have received an education herself. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman, beautiful but uneducated."
"Oh," Caderousse replied, "did he know so little of his lovely fiancée? Mercédès could have been a queen, sir, if crowns were placed on the heads of the most beautiful and intelligent women. Fernand’s fortune was already growing, and she developed along with his rising fortune. She learned drawing, music, everything. Besides, I believe, between ourselves, she did this to distract her mind, so she might forget. She filled her head only to lighten the weight on her heart.
"But now her position in life is secure," Caderousse continued. "No doubt fortune and honors have comforted her. She is rich, a countess, and yet-"
Caderousse paused.
"And yet what?" the priest asked.
"Yet I’m sure she is not happy," Caderousse said.
"What makes you believe this?"
"Well, when I found myself completely destitute, I thought my old friends might help me. So I went to Danglars, who wouldn’t even see me. I called on Fernand, who sent me a hundred francs through his servant."
"Then you didn’t see either of them personally?"
"No, but Madame de Morcerf saw me."
"How was that?"
"As I was leaving, a purse fell at my feet, it contained twenty five gold coins. I looked up quickly and saw Mercédès, who immediately closed the window blind."
"And Monsieur de Villefort?" the priest asked.
"Oh, he was never a friend of mine. I didn’t know him, and I had nothing to ask of him."
"Don’t you know what became of him, and the role he played in Edmond’s misfortunes?"
"No. I only know that some time after Edmond’s arrest, he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran and soon after left the city. No doubt he’s been as lucky as the rest, no doubt he’s as rich as Danglars, as high in position as Fernand. Only I, as you see, have remained poor, wretched, and forgotten."
"You are mistaken, my friend," the priest replied. "God may sometimes seem to forget for a while, while his justice rests, but there always comes a moment when he remembers, and behold, here’s proof!"
As he spoke, the priest took a diamond from his pocket and, giving it to Caderousse, said, "Here, my friend, take this diamond. It’s yours."
"What, for me alone?" Caderousse cried. "Ah, sir, don’t mock me!"
"This diamond was to have been shared among Edmond’s friends. Edmond had only one friend, and so it cannot be divided. Take the diamond, then, and sell it. It’s worth fifty thousand francs, and I repeat my wish that this sum may be enough to free you from your wretchedness."
"Oh, sir," Caderousse said, putting out one hand timidly while wiping away the sweat from his brow with the other, "oh, sir, don’t make a jest of a man’s happiness or despair."
"I know what happiness and despair are, and I never make light of such feelings. Take it, then, but in exchange-"
Caderousse, who had touched the diamond, withdrew his hand. The priest smiled.
"In exchange," he continued, "give me the red silk purse that Monsieur Morrel left on old Dantès’ mantelpiece, and which you tell me is still in your possession."
Caderousse, more and more astonished, went toward a large oak cabinet, opened it, and gave the priest a long purse of faded red silk, around which were two copper rings that had once been gilded. The priest took it and in return gave Caderousse the diamond.
"Oh, you are a man of God, sir," Caderousse cried, "for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond, and you could have kept it."
"Which," the priest said to himself, "you would have done."
The priest stood up, took his hat and gloves. "Well," he said, "everything you have told me is perfectly true, then, and I can believe it in every detail."
"Look, sir," Caderousse replied, "in this corner is a wooden crucifix, here on this shelf is my wife’s prayer book. Open this book, and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. I will swear to you by my soul’s salvation, by my faith as a believer, I have told you everything exactly as it happened, just as the recording angel will tell it to God’s ear on Judgment Day!"
"Very well," the priest said, convinced by Caderousse’s manner and tone that he spoke the truth. "Very well, and may this money serve you well! Farewell. I go far from people who so bitterly harm each other."
The priest, with difficulty escaping Caderousse’s enthusiastic thanks, opened the door himself, got out and mounted his horse, saluted the innkeeper once more, who kept shouting his loud farewells, and then returned by the road he had traveled to get there.
When Caderousse turned around, he saw behind him his wife La Carconte, paler and trembling more than ever.
"Is everything I heard really true?" she asked.
"What? That he gave the diamond to us alone?" Caderousse asked, half-bewildered with joy. "Yes, nothing more true! Look, here it is."
The woman stared at it for a moment, then said in a gloomy voice, "What if it’s fake?"
Caderousse started and turned pale. "Fake!" he muttered. "Fake! Why would that man give me a fake diamond?"
"To get your secrets without paying for them, you fool!"
Caderousse remained stunned for a moment under the weight of such an idea. "Oh!" he said, picking up his hat, which he placed over the red handkerchief tied around his head, "we’ll find out soon enough."
"How?"
"Why, there’s a fair at Beaucaire, and there are always jewelers from Paris there. I’ll show it to them. Watch the house, wife, and I’ll be back in two hours." And Caderousse left the house hastily, running rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken.
"Fifty thousand francs!" La Carconte muttered when left alone. "It’s a large sum of money, but it’s not a fortune."