Chapter 18: The Prosecutor’s Dilemma: II
’This irony will make a great story at dinner parties,’ Villefort thought cynically, already composing the dramatic contrast in his mind, the way successful lawyers often turned life’s tragedies into entertaining anecdotes.
"Continue," he said aloud.
"What would you like me to say?"
"Tell me everything you know."
"About what specifically? I’ll answer honestly, but," Dantès smiled slightly, "I warn you, I don’t know very much about anything important."
"Have you ever served under Napoleon?"
"I was about to join the Royal Navy when he was defeated and exiled."
"I’m told your political views are extreme," Villefort said, a complete lie, but useful as an accusation.
"My political views?" Dantès looked genuinely confused. "Sir, I don’t have any political views. I’m barely nineteen years old. I don’t know anything about politics, and I don’t want any part in them. If I get the promotion I’m hoping for, I’ll owe it to Monsieur Morrel. My only opinions, I won’t even call them public, just personal, come down to three things: I love my father, I respect my employer, and I adore my fiancée Mercédès. That’s all I can tell you, sir, and you can see how boring it is."
As Dantès spoke, Villefort studied his open, honest face. He remembered his own fiancée’s words earlier, when she’d asked him to show mercy to whoever this prisoner might be, not knowing who it was. Every word the young man said convinced Villefort more completely of his innocence.
This wasn’t even really a man yet, he was simple, natural, with the kind of genuine eloquence that came from the heart rather than calculation. Full of love for everyone because he was happy, and happiness made even bad people good for a while. Despite Villefort’s stern expression and cold tone, Dantès seemed to extend that warmth even to his judge.
’By God,’ Villefort thought, ’he really is a good kid. This will be easy, I’ll let him go, my fiancée will be thrilled that I granted her first request, and I’ll get at least a public squeeze of the hand and a private kiss out of it.’
Cheered by this prospect, Villefort’s expression brightened so noticeably that Dantès, who’d been watching the change, began to smile as well.
"Tell me," Villefort said, "do you have any enemies that you know of?"
"Enemies?" Dantès seemed genuinely surprised. "Sir, I’m nobody important enough to have enemies. As for my personality, well, maybe I’m a bit quick-tempered sometimes, but I try to control it. I’ve supervised ten or twelve sailors, and if you ask them, they’ll tell you they love and respect me, not like a father, I’m too young for that, but like an older brother."
"But you might have inspired jealousy. You’re about to become a captain at nineteen, that’s quite an achievement. You’re marrying a beautiful girl who loves you. Those two pieces of good fortune might have made someone envious."
"You’re right," Dantès admitted. "You understand people better than I do, and what you’re saying could definitely be true. But if there are people like that among my friends, I’d rather not know about it, because then I’d have to hate them."
"You’re wrong about that. You should always try to see clearly what’s around you. You seem like a decent young man, so I’ll bend the rules a bit to help you discover who made this accusation. Here’s the letter, do you recognize the handwriting?"
Villefort pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to Dantès. As the young man read it, a shadow crossed his face.
"No sir, I don’t recognize the writing, though it’s quite neat. Whoever wrote this has good penmanship." He looked up at Villefort with gratitude. "I’m very lucky to be questioned by someone like you. This jealous person is a real enemy."
The flash of energy in Dantès’s eyes showed Villefort that beneath all that gentleness lay real strength.
"Now," the prosecutor said, "answer me honestly, not as a prisoner to a judge, but as one man to another who wants to help you. How much truth is there in the accusation in this anonymous letter?"
He tossed the letter dismissively onto his desk.
"None at all," Dantès replied firmly. "I’ll tell you exactly what happened. I swear by my honor as a sailor, by my love for Mercédès, by my father’s life-"
"Speak," Villefort said. Internally, he thought, ’If my fiancée could see me now, I hope she’d be satisfied and stop calling me a heartless executioner.’
"Well, when we left Naples, Captain Leclerc came down with a brain fever. We didn’t have a doctor on board, and he was so determined to reach our destination that he refused to stop at any port for medical help. His condition got worse and worse until, on the third day, knowing he was dying, he called me to his bedside.
"’My dear Dantès,’ he said, ’swear to me that you’ll do what I’m about to ask. It’s extremely important.’
"’I swear, Captain,’ I replied.
"’After I die, you’ll take command as first mate. Sail to the island where Napoleon is exiled, dock at the main port, and ask for the grand marshal. Give him this letter, they might give you another letter in return and ask you to carry out a mission. You’ll complete what I was supposed to do, and get all the credit and reward for it.’
"’I’ll do it, Captain, but I might not be able to get an audience with someone that important as easily as you think.’
"’Here’s a ring that will get you in to see him and remove any obstacles,’ the captain said, giving me a ring. It was just in time, two hours later he was delirious, and he died the next day."
"What did you do then?"
"What I had to do, what anyone would have done in my place. A dying man’s last wishes are sacred, but for a sailor, a superior officer’s final orders are absolute commands. I sailed to the island and arrived the next day. I ordered everyone to stay on the ship and went ashore alone.
As I expected, I had trouble getting access to the grand marshal, but when I sent him the ring the captain had given me, I was admitted immediately. He asked me about Captain Leclerc’s death and, just as the captain had predicted, gave me a letter to deliver to someone in Paris. I took the job because my captain had ordered me to. I sailed back here, settled the ship’s business, and hurried to see my fiancée, who was more beautiful than ever.
Thanks to Monsieur Morrel, all the wedding arrangements were handled quickly. As I told you, I was at my wedding feast. I would have been married within the hour, and tomorrow I planned to leave for Paris, if I hadn’t been arrested on these charges that you can see are completely false."