at
had no existence, and you introduced yourself into my family. But the
day came when the law interfered!"

"Ah! your memory is an excellent one!" Then relinquishing his sneer and
his smile, he leaned toward Danglars. "I am Benedetto, the assassin;
Benedetto, the convict. But that is not all. Are you acquainted with my
father's name?"

"I heard of a scandalous suit, but I was not in France."

"No, you had fled. You were not here when, in the court-room, I flung my
hatred and my loathing at the head of the Procureur du Roi--at the head
of my father, Monsieur de Villefort. And do you know the name of my
mother?"

"It was never given."

"I will tell it to you, nevertheless. She was Madame Danglars."

The banker started to his feet, his whole frame twitching nervously.

"It is not true! It is not true!" he cried.

"She was my mother, I tell you, and I punished her as she deserved, for
I killed her!"

"Horrible! Horrible!" And the wretched man who listened to these words
wrung his hands.

"Yes, and here is the proof."

Benedetto drew from his pocketbook the paper on which Sanselme had
written the lines he had dictated.

"Read this," he said. "I was not alone; the witness is still living, and
I can produce him if necessary."

Danglars had fallen back in his chair.

"Now then," continued Benedetto, "you know who I am, and you know, too,
that I hesitate at nothing. Once more, will you obey me?"

"But what do you wish me to do?"

"In the first place, I want money. I am tired of poverty, and of the
incessant perils which it forces me to run. You are rich. Make me rich."

"You shall have money."

"And much money. But this is not all."

Benedetto laid his hand on the shoulder of his companion.

"Have you forgotten," he said, in a stern voice, "the man who humiliated
and tortured you? Do you feel no thirst for revenge?"

Danglars looked up quickly.

"That man," continued Benedetto, "was and is your evil genius, as well
as mine. He tempted me. He launched me into a world where all my
appetite for luxury was developed, then suddenly he sent me to a prison.
You remember all the tortures he inflicted on you. Now it is in our
power to heap on this man a vengeance so terrible that he will writhe at
our feet. This vengeance I mean to have. Danglars, do you wish to see
this man suffer? Then give me your hand, and we will work together."

Danglars murmured:

"It is impossible. Vengeance is sweet, but it can n