(upbeat music) This episode is brought to you by Experian. Are you paying for subscriptions you don't use, but can't find the time or energy to cancel them? Experian could cancel unwanted subscriptions for you, saving you an average of $270 per year, and plenty of time. Download the Experian app. Results will vary, not all subscriptions are eligible. Savings are not guaranteed, paid membership with connected payment account required. (dramatic music) What will we find in today's Thursday thrillers here on the Mutual Audio Network? A few baffling mysteries? Perhaps a touch of murder. Let's find out. The following audio drama is rated PG for parental guidance. Chapter 66 of The Counter-Monte Christo by Alexandra Dumas. This lubricant recording is in the public domain. Chapter 66, Matrimonial Projects. The day following this scene, at the hour the banker usually chose to pay a visit to Madame Longlar on his way to his office. His coop did not appear. At this time, that is, about half past 12, Madame Longlar ordered her carriage and went out. Donglar hidden behind a curtain, watched the departure he had been waiting for. He gave orders that he should be informed as soon as Madame Longlar appeared. But at two o'clock, she had not returned. He then called for his horses, drove to the chamber, and inscribed his name to speak against the budget. From 12 to two o'clock, Donglar had remained in his study, unsealing his dispatches and becoming more and more sad every minute, heaping figure upon figure, and receiving, among other visits, one from Major Cavalcanti, who as stiff and exact as ever, presented himself precisely at the hour named the night before to terminate his business with the banker. On leaving the chamber, Donglar, who had shown violent marks of agitation during the sitting, and been more bitter than ever against the ministry, re-entered his carriage, and told the coachman to drive to the avenue de Champs-Élysées, Numerault-Conkte. Monte Cristo was at home. Only he was engaged with someone and begged Donglar to wait for a moment in the drawing room. While the banker was waiting in the ante room, the door opened, and a man dressed as an abbey, and doubtless more familiar with the house than he was, came in and instead of waiting, merely bowed, passed on to the father apartments, and disappeared. A minute after the door by which the priest had entered, reopened, and Monte Cristo appeared, "Powered on me," said he, "My dear Baro, but one of my friends, the abbey Busoni, whom you perhaps saw past by, has just arrived in Paris, not having seen him for a long time. I could not make up my mind to leave him sooner, so I hope this would be sufficient reason for my having made you wait." "Né," said Donglar, "it is my fault. I have chosen a visit at a wrong time, and will retire. Not at all. On the contrary, be seated. But what is the matter with you? You look care one, really, you alarm me, a melancholy in a capitalist like the appearance of a comet, presages some misfortune to the world. I have been in ill look for several days," said Donglar, "and I have heard nothing but bad news. Ah, indeed," said Monte Cristo, "have you had another fall at the Bus?" "No, I am safe for a few days, at least. I am only annoyed about a bankrupt of three years." Really? Does it happen to be Giacopo Manfredi? Exactly so. Imagineman who has transacted business with me for I don't know how long to the amount of 800,000 or 900,000 from during the year, never a mistake or delay. A fellow who paid like a prince. Well, I was a million in advance with him, and now my fine Giacopo Manfredi suspends a payment. Really? It is an anode of fatality. I draw upon him for 600,000 from. My bills are returned unpaid, and more than that, I heard bills of exchange signed by him to the value of 400,000 from payable at his correspondence in Paris at the end of this month. Today is the 30th. I present them, but my correspondence has disappeared. This with my Spanish affair made a pretty end to the month. Then you really lost by that affair in Spain. Yes, only 700,000 from out of my cash box. Nothing more. Why, how could you have made such a mistake? Such an old stager. Oh, it is all my wife's fault. She dreamed Don Carlos had returned to Spain. She believes in dreams. It is magnetism. She says, and when she dreams, I think it is sure to happen. She assures me. On this conviction, I allow her to speculate. She, having her bank and her stockbroker, she speculated and lost. It is true she speculates with her own money, not mine. Nevertheless, you can understand that when 700,000 from leave the wife's pocket, the husband always finds it out. But do you mean to say you have not heard of this? Why, the thing has made a tremendous noise? Yes, I heard of it spoken, but I did not know the details and then no one can be more ignorant than I am of the affairs in the wars. Then you do not speculate? I, how could I speculate? When I already have so much trouble in regulating my income, I should be obliged beside my steward to keep a clock and a boy, but touching these Spanish affairs, I think that the Baroness did not dream the whole of the Don Carlos matter. The paper said something about it, did they not? Then you believe the papers? I, not the least in the world. Only I fancied that the honest message was an exception to a rule and that it only announced telegraphic dispatches. Well, that's what puzzles me, replied Don Blar. The news of the return of Don Carlos was brought by telegraph. "So that," said Monte Cristo, "you have lost nearly "one million, 700,000 franc this month. "Not nearly, indeed, that is exactly my loss." "Te hablé," said Monte Cristo compassionately. "It is a hard blow for a third-rate fortune." "Third-rate," said Don Blar, rather humble. "What do you mean by that?" "Certainly," continued Monte Cristo. "I make three assortments in fortune. "First-rate, second-rate, and third-rate fortunes. "I call those first-rate, which are composed of treasures "one possesses under one's hand, "such as mines, lands, and funded property "in such states as France, Austria, and England, "provided these treasures and property form a total "of about 100 million. "I call those second-rate fortunes "that are gained by manufacturing enterprises, "joint stock companies, vice-royalties, and principalities, "not drawing more than 1,500,000 franc, "the whole forming a capital of about 50 million. "Finally, I call those third-rate fortunes, "which are composed of a fluctuating capital, "dependent upon the will of others, or upon chances, "which a bankruptcy involves or a false telegram shakes, "such as banks, speculations of the day. "In fact, all operations under the influence "of greater or less mischances, "the whole bringing in a real or fictitious capital "of about 50 in a million. "I think this is about your position, is it not?" Ron found it, yes, replied Donglar. "The result, then, of six more such months as this, "would be to reduce the third-rate house to despair." "Oh," said Donglar, becoming very pale, "how you are running on. "Let us imagine seven such months, "continued Monte Cristo in the same tone. "Tell me, have you ever thought "that seven times one million, 700,000 from, "make nearly 12 millions?" No, you have not. Well, you are right. For if you indulge in structural reflections, you would never risk your principle, which is, to the speculator, what the skin is to civilized man. We have our clothes, some more splendid than others. This is our credit. But when a man dies, he has only his skin. In the same way, on retiring from business, you have nothing but your real principle, of about five or six millions, at the most. For third-rate fortunes are never more than a fourth of what they appear to be. Like the locomotive, on a railway, the size of which is magnified by the smoke and steam surrounding it. Well, out of the five or six millions, which form your real capital, you have just lost nearly two millions, which must, of course, in the same degree, diminish your credit and fictitious fortune to follow out my simile. Your skin has been opened by bleeding, and this, if repeated three or four times, will cause death. So pay attention to it. My dear Miss Yodonglar, do you want money? Do you wish me to lend you some? What a bad calculator you are, exclaimed Yodonglar, calling to his assistants all his philosophy and dissimulation. I have made money at the same time by speculations, which have succeeded. I have made up the loss of blood by nutrition. I lost a battle in Spain. Might have been defeated and re-est, but my naval army in India will have taken some galleons and my Mexican pioneers will have discovered some mine. Very good, very good, but the wound remains and will reopen at the first loss. No, for I am only embarked in certainties, replied Yodonglar, with the air of a mountain bank sounding his own praises. To involve me, three governments must crumble to dust. Well, such things have been that there should be a famine. Recollect the seven fat and the seven lean kind, or that the sea should become dry as in the days of feral, and even then, my vessels would become caravans. So much the better. "I congratulate you, my dear Miss Yodonglar," said Monte Cristo. "I see I was deceived, and that you belong to the class of second-rate fortunes. I think I may aspire to that honor," said Donglar, with a smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which bad artists are so fond of door-bing into their pictures of ruins. But while we are speaking of business, Donglar added, "Please define an opportunity of changing the subject. Tell me what I am to do for Mr. Cavald Canty. Give him money. If he is recommended to you, and the recommendation seems good." Excellent. He presented himself this morning with a bond of 40,000 from, payable at sight on you, signed by Busoni, and returned by you to me, with your endorsement, of course. I immediately counted him over the 40 bank notes. Monte Cristo nodded his head in token of a cent. But that is not all, continued Donglar. He has opened an account with my house for his son. May I ask, "How much he allows the young man?" 5,000 font per month. 60,000 frags per year. I thought I was right in believing that Cavald Canty to be a stingy fellow. How can a young man live upon 5,000 frags a month? But you understand that if the young man should want a few thousand more. Do not advance it. The father will never repay it. You do not know these ultra-montani millionaires. They are regular risers, and by whom, were they recommended to you? Oh, by the House of Fensy, one of the best in Florence. I do not mean to say you will lose, but nevertheless, mind you hold to the terms of the agreement. Would you not trust the Cavald Canty? I? Oh, I would advance six millions on his signature. He was only speaking in reference to the second-rate fortunes we were mentioning just now. And with all these, how unassuming he is, I should never have taken him for anything more than a mere major. And you would have flattered him for certainly, as you say, he has no manner. The first time I saw him, he appeared to me like an old lieutenant, who had grown mouldy under the airpilets. But all the Italians are the same. They are like old Jews when they are not glittering in audience splendor. "The young man is better," said Don Glare. "Yes, a little nervous, perhaps. But upon the whole, he appeared tolerable. I was uneasy about him." "Why?" "Because you met him at my house. Just after his introduction into the world, as they told me, he has been travelling with a very severe tutor and had never been to Paris before. Ah, I believe noblemen marry amongst themselves, do they not?" asked Don Glare, carelessly. "They like to unite their fortunes." It is usual, certainly. But Cavall Canty is an original who does nothing like other people. I cannot help thinking that he has brought his son to France to choose a wife. Do you think so? I am sure of it. And you have heard his fortune mentioned? Nothing else was talked of. Only some said he was worth millions and others that he did not possess a father. And what is your opinion? I ought not to influence you because it is only my own personal impression. Well, and it is that... My opinion is that all these old Podesta's, those ancient Condottieri for the Cavall Canty, have commanded armies and governed provinces. And my opinion, I say, is that they have buried their millions in corners, the secret of which they have transmitted only to their eldest sons who have done the same from generation to generation. And the proof of this is seen in the yellow and dry appearance, like the Florence of the Republic, which from being constantly gazed upon, have become reflected in them. Certainly, the Dunglar. And this is further supported by the fact that they are not possessing an inch of land. Very little, at least. I know of none which Cavall Canty possesses, excepting his palace in Luca. Ah, he has a palace, said Dunglar, laughing. Come, that is something. Yes, and more than that. He lets it to the Minister of Finance while he lives in a simple house. Oh, as I told you before, I think the old fellow is very close. Come, you do not flatter him. I scarcely know him. I think I have seen him three times in my life. All I know relating to him is Rubusoni and himself. He was telling me this morning that tired of letting his property like dormant in Italy, which is a dead nation, he wished to find a method, either in France or England, of multiplying his millions. But remember, that though I place great confidence in Busoni, I am not responsible for this. Never mind. Except my thanks for the client you have sent me. It is a fine name to inscribe on my ledgers, and my cashier was quite proud of it when I explained to him who the Cavall Canty were of. By the way, this is merely a simple question. When these sort of people marry their sons, do they give them any fortune? Oh, that depends upon circumstances. I know an Italian prince, rich as a goldmine. One of the noblest families in Tuscany, who, when his sons married according to his wish, gave them millions, and when they married against his consent, merely allowed them 30 crowns a month. Should André marry according to his father's views, he will perhaps give him one, two or three millions, for example, supposing it were the daughter of a banker. He might take an interest in the house of the father-in-law of his son, then again, if he disliked his choice, the major takes the key and double locks his cover, and master André would be obliged to live like his sons of a Parisian family by shuffling cards or rattling dice. Ah, that poor boy will find out some Bavarian or Peruvian princess. He will want a crown and an immense fortune. No, these grand lords on the other side of the Alps frequently marry into playing families like Jupiter. They like to cross the race, but do you wish to marry André? My dear Miss Yudonglar, that you are asking so many questions. (speaks in foreign language) it would not be a bad speculation. I fancy and you know I am a speculator. You are not thinking of Manuel Donghlar, I hope. You would not like poor André to have his throat cut by Albert. Albert, repeated Donghlar, shrugging his shoulders. Ah, well, you would care very little about it, I think. But he is betrothed to your daughter, I believe. Well, Miss Yudonglar's self, and I have talked about this marriage, but Madame de Maxerf and Albert, you do not mean to say that it would not be a good match. Indeed, I imagine that Manuel Donghlar is as good as Miss Yudonglar's self. Manuel Donghlar fortune will be great, no doubt, especially if the telegraph should not make any more mistakes. Oh, I do not mean a fortune only, but tell me, what? Why did you not invite Miss Yud and Madame de Maxerf to your dinner? I did so, but he excused himself on account of Madame de Maxerf, being obliged to go to the app for the benefit of sea air. "Yes, yes," said Donghlar, laughing. "It would do her great deal of good." "Why so? "Because it is the air she always breathed in her youth." Monte Cristo took no notice of this ill-natured remark. "But still, if Albert be not so rich, "as Mademoiselle Donghlar," said the Count, "you must allow that he is a fine name." So he has, but I like mine as well. "Certainly, your name is popular and it does honor to the title. "They have adorned it with, but you are too intelligent "not to know that according to a prejudice, "too firmly rooted to be exterminated, "an ability which dates back five centuries "is worth more than one that can only wreck in 20 years. "And for this very reason," said Donghlar, "with a smile which he tried to make sardonic, "I prefer Monsieur Andreia Calvalcanti "to Monsieur Albert de Maxerf. "Still, I should not think that the more serfs "would yield to the Calvalcanti. "The more serfs stay, Mademoiselle Donghlar, "you are a man of the world, are you not? "I think so. "And you understand heraldry a little. "Well, look at my coat of arms. "It is worth more than more serfs. "Why so? "Because though I am not a baron by birth, "my real name is at least Donghlar. "Well, what then? "While his name is not more serf. "How? Not more serf. "Not the least in the world. "Go on. "I have been made a baron so that I actually am one. "He made himself account so that he is not one at all. "Impostably, listen, my dear count. "Missieur de Maxerf has been my friend, "or rather my acquaintance during the last 30 years. "You know I have made the most of my arms, "though I never forgot my origin. "A proof of great humility or great pride," said Monte Cristo. "Well, when I was a clerk, "Mosserf was a mere fisherman. "And then he was called? "Fernonde. "Only fernonde? "Fernonde Mondego? "You are sure? "Pardio. "I have bought enough fish of him to know his name. "Then why do you think of giving your daughter to him? "Because fernonde and Donghlar, "being both Parvenu, "both having become noble, "both rich are about equal and worth, "excepting that there have been certain things mentioned of him "that were never said of me." "What?" "Oh, nothing." "Ah, yes. "What you tell me recalls to mine "something about the name of fernonde Mondego. "I have heard that name in Greece." "In conjunction with the affairs of Ali Pasha? "Exactly so." "This is the mystery," said Donghlar. "I acknowledge I would have given anything to find it out." "It would be very easy if you much wished it." "How so?" "Probably you have some correspondence in Greece." "I should think so. "At Janina." "Everywhere." "Well, right to your correspondent in Janina, "and ask him what part was played by a Frenchman "named fernonde Mondego "in the catastrophe of Ali Tapalini." "You are right," explained Donghlar, "rising quickly. "I will write today." "Do so." "I will." "And if you should hear of anything very scandalous, "I will communicate it to you. "You will oblige me." Donghlar rushed out of the room and made one leap into his coop. End of chapter 66. This is Thursday Thrillers, audio with action on the Mutual Audio Network. Join us tomorrow on Mutual with Friday Follies, the end of the week collection of comedy cut-ups. You can subscribe to the full Mutual Audio Network feed for every day of audio drama that fits your fancy. Or find the Friday Follies feed in your favorite podcast players. Now that's a lot of Fs. The Mutual Audio Network. Listening and imagining together. [Music]
