The Welcome back, everyone to 1001 Stories for the Road.

This is your host and storyteller, John Haggardorn.

Today, Chapter 27, from the Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas.

The story.

Caterousse is speaking.

First, sir, said Caterousse.

You must make me a promise.

What is that? inquired the Abbey.

Why, if you ever make use of the details I'm about to give you, that you will never let anyone

know that it was I who supplied them. For the persons of whom I about to talk are rich and powerful,

and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me, I should break to pieces like glass.

"'Make yourself easy, my friend,' replied the Abbey.

"'I am a priest, and confessions die in my breast.

Recollect our only desire is to carry out in a fitting manner, the last wishes of our friend.

Speak, then, without reserve, as without hatred.

Tell the truth, the whole truth.

I do not know, never may know, the persons of whom you are about to speak.

Besides, I am an Italian, and not a Frenchman, and belong to God, and not to man, and I shall shortly retire to my convent, which I have only quitted to fulfill the last wishes of a dying man.

This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage.

Well, then, under these circumstances,' said Caterus,

"'I will.

"'I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship

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