The Count of Monte Cristo Page #6

in the interpretation of the law.

I have a certain matter

that perhaps you could help me with.

Excuse me.

Fernand.

Fernand! The toast!

Not right now.

I have state business to attend to.

The guests expect it.

Albert expects it.

- You give it, my dear.

I'm sure it'll be splendid.

- You are his father!

It is the least you can do.

You know how he admires you.

- Then he will forgive my absence.

- But...

I thought we agreed

not to meet socially.

How could I pass up

the Count of Monte Cristo?

Quite.

- What do you know of him?

- He's foreign, rich.

- I hear he aided your son.

- Why does he seek your counsel?

Why should I tell you?

When my son returned from Rome...

he mentioned he'd heard Monte Cristo

saying he was expecting a shipment.

He also heard the words

"gold" and "Spada."

- Hmm.

- You don't believe...

Monte Cristo

has found the treasure of Spada.

Not an hour ago, he asked me to help

him avoid troublesome inspections...

on a shipment coming from Marseilles.

- Hmm.

- I could have him arrested.

Don't do that.

Let's just relieve him of it.

- How do you propose...

- I have an acquaintance

who deals in these matters.

Tell Monte Cristo you'll get

his shipment through Customs...

but that it will have

to stay in port overnight.

I shall have it removed and taken

to my old family estate in Bouchon...

where we shall meet

the following day.

I require 70 percent.

- And yet you'll only get 50.

- Done.

Ladies and gentlemen...

unfortunately, my husband

has been detained by business.

And so it is left up to me to...

To introduce you...

to the Count of Monte Cristo yet again.

You see, I had the audacity

to beg the count...

to allow me to give

the birthday toast to Albert.

I was so insistent, and such is

the graciousness of our host...

that he reluctantly gave up

his fatherly right...

in order to accommodate a guest,

even one as boorish as myself.

Young Albert has made far too much

of the assistance I gave him in Rome.

When I arrived in the catacombs,

I watched...

as the criminals,

who tied Albert to a wall...

- As evidence of his abduction.

- Goodness!

The boy's reply to all this was...

"Do your worst."

Life is a storm, my young friend.

You will bask

in the sunlight one moment...

be shattered on the rocks the next.

What makes you a man is what you do

when that storm comes.

You must look into that storm

and shout, as you did in Rome...

"Do your worst...

for I will do mine."

Then the fates will know you

as we know you...

as Albert Mondego, the man.

Giddap!

Edmond, Villefort told me

that you were executed.

- Did he?

- Oh, God.

- Countess, you are mistaken.

Back to the Mondegos'.

- No!

- Madame, I am only thinking

of your reputation.

- I beg you, Edmond.

- I don't care how you returned.

- I am not this Edmond.

- Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

So, what are you?

A spirit? Some ghost

sent to torment me?

This Edmond, you loved him?

- Yes.

- For how long?

For all of my life.

And how long after he died

before you married the count?

That isn't fair.

We've reached your home,

Countess.

You're right.

You cannot be my Edmond.

Well, there you are.

You said it yourself.

Edmond Dantes is dead.

Good night.

Countess.

If you ever again presume

to interfere in my affairs...

Do you understand?

- I understand you are mad.

- Mad?

My enemies are falling

into my traps perfectly.

Mad, Your Grace,

for ignoring this:

You have a fortune,

a beautiful woman who loves you.

Take the money, take the woman

and live your life.

Stop this plan.

Take what you have won.

- I can't.

- Why not?

I am still your man, Zatarra.

I swore an oath.

I will protect you.

Even if it means I must

protect you from yourself.

I'll drive you home now.

I'll walk.

Come on. Look sharp.

There we are.

Put two chests

on the Pharaon for our cut.

Mondego will never notice.

Come on. Get aboard.

- Philippe Danglars?

- Yeah?

You are charged with the theft of goods

from a certain merchant ship.

- This is absurd.

- We can resolve this matter easily.

These men will perform

a search of your vessel.

Count Mondego set me up.

But I'll not hang for him.

- Who are you?

- I'm the count of Monte Cristo.

But my friends call me Edmond Dantes.

Dantes?

Cut him down before

he can't talk.

- Boy, don't do that.

That's... That's too much.

- My dear Villefort.

I hope you don't mind

if I join you for a short while.

Your Grace,

I was not expecting you.

I want to thank you in person

for helping me with my shipment.

That, yes. L-I made all

the arrangements earlier.

I can promise you there'll be

no more problems from our end.

Excellent. I think this

could be the start of a long...

and fruitful relationship.

Speaking of which,

may I pose a question?

Yes, of course.

Anything in the world.

I was just curious.

Why did you tell

Countess Mondego 1 6 years ago...

that Edmond Dantes

had been executed?

- Hmm?

- Uh...

l-I don't understand.

Wh-What on earth are you talking about?

- It's a perfectly simple question.

- How do you know these things?

That's, uh...

That's quite enough.

You-You-You don't understand. Dantes

was accepting a letter from Napoleon.

- That was clearly treason.

- But we both know he never delivered it.

Packing a man off to prison

with such knowledge is bad enough.

But to tell his...

Your Grace, I have no idea what is

provoking this perverse discussion.

Now I ask myself, "What did my old

friend Villefort stand to gain...

by telling Mercedes

that Edmond Dantes is dead? "

The answer is absolutely nothing.

- Just as you say, nothing. So why...

- But if my old friend...

now chief prosecutor of France...

doesn't gain from this lie,

well, who does?

My dear Count, it's far too hot

in here and you're fully dressed.

is Fernand, Count Mondego.

I don't understand what

this inquisition has to do

with our business relationship.

I'm about to tell you.

Sit down, Mondego.

I'm an ambitious man,

and I have furthered these ambitions...

by scooping up Bonapartists.

Once merely an irritation,

now potentially lethal.

- Be lethal in turn.

- Well, the problem is such...

that l, myself,

cannot attend to it.

So I have a proposition

for you.

How is your father?

Alive, unfortunately.

We share the same misfortune.

You remember?

Why is this door locked?

I demand that you release me

from this room at once.

You've proved yourself

no friend of mine.

Your father was a loyal supporter

of Napoleon, wasn't he?

Possibly involved in plotting

Napoleon's escape from Elba.

The emperor arrives soon!

An inconvenient parent for an ambitious

civil servant like yourself.

But then he died, suddenly,

and opportunely murdered

again some 1 6 years ago.

The Emperor Napoleon.

The murderer never apprehended.

How hard did you look for him?

You have no proof,

no witnesses.

You just have theories.

J-Just conjectures.

On the contrary.

I have Count Mondego.

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