Chapter 44. The Vendetta
At what point shall I begin my story, your excellency?” asked Bertuccio.
“Where you please,” returned Monte Cristo, “since I know nothing at all
of it.”
“I thought the Abbé Busoni had told your excellency.”
“Some particulars, doubtless, but that is seven or eight years ago, and
I have forgotten them.”
“Then I can speak without fear of tiring your excellency.”
“Go on, M. Bertuccio; you will supply the want of the evening papers.”
“The story begins in 1815.”
“Ah,” said Monte Cristo, “1815 is not yesterday.”
“No, monsieur, and yet I recollect all things as clearly as if they had
happened but then. I had a brother, an elder brother, who was in the
service of the emperor; he had become lieutenant in a regiment composed
entirely of Corsicans. This brother w
