The Count of Monte Cristo

Back Forward Menu

of an hour for repentance. Reflect, then, wretched man, and repent."

"No," said Caderousse, "no; I will not repent. There is no God; there is
no providence--all comes by chance."--

"There is a providence; there is a God," said Monte Cristo, "of whom you
are a striking proof, as you lie in utter despair, denying him, while I
stand before you, rich, happy, safe and entreating that God in whom you
endeavor not to believe, while in your heart you still believe in him."

"But who are you, then?" asked Caderousse, fixing his dying eyes on the
count. "Look well at me!" said Monte Cristo, putting the light near his
face. "Well, the abbe--the Abbe Busoni." Monte Cristo took off the wig
which disfigured him, and let fall his black hair, which added so
much to the beauty of his pallid features. "Oh?" said Caderousse,
thunderstruck, "but for that black hair, I should say you were the
Englishman, Lord Wilmore."