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.”