 From Hollywood, California, the Lux Radio Theatre presents Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson in the Count of Monte Cristo. Lux presents Hollywood. Our stars, Robert Montgomery, Josephine Hutchinson, Lewis Stone, Lloyd Nolan, Sydney Blackmore, and Paul Lucas. Our special guest, Mr. Alton Cook, radio editor of the New York World Telegram. The Lux Radio Theatre Orchestra is conducted by Lewis Silvers. This program comes to you with the good wishes of the makers of Lux Flakes. Those mild, pure flakes that leave your hands so soft and lovely. Try Lux for your dishes, and you'll see what I mean. It protects your hands in the dish pan and helps them stay smooth and white. Lovely to look at, and it's so inexpensive doing dishes this way. A little goes so far. Lux is thrifty. Now, the producer of the Lux Radio Theatre. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil V. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. As fantastic and unpredictable as the Count of Monte Cristo himself was the genius who created him, Alexander Dumas. A writer of amazing energy and monumental achievements, he often displayed a childish vanity and delighted to be known as a man of the world, a Beau Brummel. To protect his pride, he once fought a duel, attacking his opponent furiously, while with his free hand he struggled to hold up his trousers, which persisted in slipping down. For a pet, he selected a vulture for raiding him on the streets like a peacock until the vicious bird turned on him and took a piece out of his leg. Dumas made fortune after fortune, through each one blissfully away and dyed penniless. His novel, The Count of Monte Cristo, appeared only a few months after the Three Musketeers. It was like writing an Anthony ad verse and following it up with Gone with the Wind. In play form, Monte Cristo ran here and abroad for 39 years. Twice a motion picture, The Count of Monte Cristo comes to you with a star-spangled cast, headed by Robert Montgomery. His ability to assume a wide range of character types makes him one of the screen's most applauded actors and especially equipped for the title role tonight. From Metro-Golden-Mayer Studio, his latest picture is fast and loose. As Mercedes, we welcome back a superb artist in Josephine Hutchinson. Louis Stone, beloved veteran of countless films, is Abe Faria, and our trio of conspirators is composed of those three experts, Lloyd Nolan as Dengla, Sidney Blackmore as Mondego, and Paul Lucas in the role of D'Villefort. And now for the play. The Lux Radio Theatre presents Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson in The Count of Monte Cristo with Lloyd Nolan, Sidney Blackmore, and Paul Lucas. The year is 1815. Napoleon, overwhelmingly defeated at Leipzig, has been exiled to the island of Elba. But still the figure of the little Cossacken looms like a giant spectre over all Europe. And Louis XVIII, perching perilously on the throne of France, trembles at each new report of plots to restore the emperor. Through all the countryside has gone the king's command, death or imprisonment to all who support the cause of Bonaparte. But still the plots go on. Just before sundown, and a day early in the year, Napoleon in his quarters at Elba is finishing an audience with a tall young man uniformed as an officer of the French merchant marine. And you will deliver this letter to Monsieur Nautier in Marseille. He will make himself known to you by the one word, Elba. I understand your majesty. But how will this man know me? He will be seeking the captain of the French ship, Farron. But I'm not captain, Sire. Not officially. Captain Leclerc died at sea two days ago. As first made naturally, I assumed command. Oh, no matter, no matter. Not here will find whoever was acting captain when the Farron stopped at Elba. Now, one more thing, Monsieur. Eddantes, you said the name words? Edmondantes, sir. Why are you here? It was Captain Leclerc's last order, Sire. He commanded me to stop at Elba and in his name perform whatever service your majesty might require. Then it's your dead captain that you serve in this case and not Napoleon. Is that it, Eddantes? Your majesty, I'm a sailor. My study has been the sea, not politics. The diplomacy of a telly rand. Well, your loyalty is not important. Your honesty is. I want that letter delivered. It will be, your majesty. You may depend on it. What about to ride before the gale? Aye aye, sir. Will we ever see Marseille again, Monsieur Eddantes? Look, don't be a fool, man. The pharaoh loves the storm. I'll be in my cabin if you need me. Eddantes, I've been waiting to see you. Yes. Well, you'll usually find me on the bridge during a gale. I thought it might be better to see you here. I don't like how riding before the wind like this, Eddantes. It's too dangerous. Now, if Leclerc had named me captain when he died... He didn't. I'm in command and I'll give the orders I think best. Good night, Douglas. Good night. Oh, uh... By the way, here's a letter I found just now on the floor. Oh, thank you. Are you sure you found it, Monsieur Douglas? Quite sure. But if you're turning the pharaoh into a male ship, Captain Eddantes, you should at least be careful with the cargo from Elba. Now, what news? Is there any word from the pharaoh? No, Mercedes. I saw Monsieur Morel, the owner. He's given up hope. It's useless, Mercedes, believe me. But it can't be. Ships have been late before. As late as this? Why deceive yourself? The pharaoh was heavily laden. Not in a dozen years has there been such a storm. She was... Oh, please, Fërno. Don't you suppose I haven't thought of all that? Every day, every night. Mercedes, I know it's not the time to speak, but through all these months, whenever I have spoken of my love for you, you've refused to listen. It was Eddman Dantes who stood between us. But now, Mercedes, if he, if the pharaoh doesn't come back, tell me at least that I may hope. I don't know, Fërno. I can't think of that now. Mercedes, give me your word. Promise me that if Dantes does not come back, you'll be my wife. Perhaps, Fërno. Perhaps in time I... Listen. A ship in the harbor. It's the pharaoh and Eddman. It must be... My thanks to you for bringing the pharaoh safely home. Forgive us, Your Honor. I only wish Captain Leclerc... He died at sea, Eddman. The sailor can't ask more. No, sir. And you, D'Anglard? Welcome. Is the cargo in good condition? Yes, Miss Samorrell, as well as might be expected after a trip like that. Well, you're here, and the cargo is safe. That's all that matters. Perhaps. But we'd have missed that storm altogether if we hadn't stopped at Elba. You stopped at Elba? At whose command? At Dantes. At Captain Leclerc's. The order was his, sir. Then you were right to stop. Eddman. Mercedes. Eddman. My darling. It's you, alive and well and strong. You doubt it. Eddman, stop. Let me down. Eddman. Forgive me, Mr. Morrell. The man's a little mad. Well, he's not the only one. Dante, every day for the last six months, this girl has bested me for news when you'd be home. Mr. Morrell. Well, he's here now. His time is yours. Go ahead, Captain Dante. Captain. Captain. From now on, you'll remain in command of the panel. Mr. Morrell. Now, don't talk to me. Talk to him. This orchard, Eddman. Remember? Remember. I think I came here every day while you were gone. I used to lie under the trees and look up at the sky. Wondering where you were and what you were thinking of at the moment. And then later the leaves dried and began to fall. I was sad at that. And happy, too. Because I knew somehow that before the leaves came back, we'd be here together. You and I. Mr. Eddys, if you knew the things that were on my lips to say, but now that I'm with you, I can't find words. I know. The nights I've lain aloft in the rigging and discussed your beauty with the stars, or times of storm when I've stood in the prow and shouted your name into the gale, daring it to carry my voice to you. It was a kind of torture to be away from you. I felt that, too. And are you afraid of it, Miss Eddys? Afraid? There will be other voyages of the pharaoh and other storms. And times we don't arrive when we're expected. Perhaps even... Well, I hadn't meant to say it this way, but... Oh, Eddman, of course I'll be afraid. Every time you sail, my heart will turn to stone till you sail back again. But that doesn't matter. Because I'll never doubt. Because I'll always know that you will come back. Mercedes. To Monsieur Fernand Mondego. You are invited to be present tomorrow night at the Petrothal Feast of Eddman Dante's and Mercedes-Rossas to be held at the Café La Reserve with Monsieur Morelle as patron. That's enough, Don Laher. Very well, but if you won't read your own invitation, somebody ought to read it for you. You know, you amuse me, Mondego. It's bad enough to be a rejected suitor. It's even worse to look like one. Another drink? No. I was just wondering, who's the king's representative in the Marseille now? A man named De Villefort. Why? You know him? I've met him. Ambitious? I suppose so. And loyal to the king? Of course. And I wonder what Monsieur De Villefort would do if two good citizens, say you and I, for example, would have come to him with information concerning a certain young captain recently arrived in Marseille who stopped en route at Elba. Elba? What are you talking about? You mean Dante's? Well, that's better, Mondego. Much better. Why, you look positively alive again. Is it the wine Mercedes or is it you? I've never danced better in my life. I'm hoping that you'll improve when you get rid of your sea legs. That's that. And from my own betrothed. Captain Dante's. Yes? A gentleman wishes to speak with you outside. Well, invite him in. He said it was private. He asked for the captain of the ferron. Oh, excuse me, Mercedes. I'll be right back. Good evening, my friend. Good evening. You are the captain of the ferron? I am? Well, what is it? Elba. I've been expecting you. I have the letter with me. Here. Thank you. Good night, Monsieur. Good night. Ah, you'll, uh, get back so soon, Edmond. Sir Morel, do you remember the letter I mentioned to you from Elba? Oh, delivered. Delivered? I'm glad. You're right to obey La Clare's orders. It's good that the letter is out of your hands. Is Edmond Dante's here? Captain Edmond Dante's. I am Edmond Dante's. In the name of the king's magistrate, you are under arrest. Edmond. It's all right, Mercedes. What is the charge, officer? Suspicion of bearing reasonable information from the usurper, Bonaparte. That charge is absurd. Monsieur de Villefort will decide that. Edmond, I'm afraid. Nonsense. Here. Treasure that kiss. In half an hour, there'll be another to match it. I'm ready, officer. Edmond. You arrested both of them? Yes, Monsieur de Villefort. We have the old man who received the note, and the young officer who gave it to him. Good. I'll see the old one first. Yes, Monsieur. The prisoner, Monsieur. Good evening, Monsieur de Villefort. You. Monsieur de Villefort. Is something wrong? No. Get out. I will examine the prisoner alone. Yes, Monsieur. Meddling again. I thought you were in Paris. I've been, Marseille, held prisoner by my own son. Amusing, isn't it? Do you realize that if the king learned that my father is an active agent for Bonaparte? That you'd be in danger? That you'd lose your office and possibly even more? Of course I realize it, my son. And that is why the king will not learn if you can prevent it. I'll see that you are escorted safely back to Paris. But you must be careful, do you understand? And above all, don't use the name de Villefort. Fair enough bargain for your protection. Thank you, my son. You rang, Monsieur. It's called the prisoner to Sergeant Craner. I'll give him full instructions later. Very good, Monsieur. And send in the other prisoner. Good night, my most noble magistrate. Send in the other prisoner. Edmond Dantes, captain of the farm. Yes. Dantes, you are accused of carrying a message from Elba, plotting treason against your king. What have you to say? Only that in carrying that message, Monsieur. I was carrying out the orders of my superior, Captain Leclerc. I knew nothing about the contents of the letter. Really? And the man to whom you deliver the letter? What was his name? I don't know. Could you describe him? Perfectly. It was about your height. Never mind. You say your captain ordered you to stop at Elba. Where is that captain? Dead. How convenient. But any member of the crew could vouch for what I say. They could? Monsieur Dengla perhaps? Yes. Yes, I'm sure that Dengla knew that I... Come in, Dengla. Dengla. Dengla, Monsieur Dantes has just told me that in stopping at Elba, he was obeying the orders of Captain Leclerc. Do you confirm that statement? I do not. The order to stop at Elba was given by Dantes himself. Leclerc's last command had been to make directly for Marseille. Dengla, you're mistaken. I have no reason to lie. No, have I. Monsieur Montego, have you any reason to believe that Dantes is unjustly accused? Well, Montego, tell him. The accusation is just. Dantes has long been a bonapartist. His fiancee, Mercedes de Rosas, confessed it to me. That's a lie. He's lying. They're both lying. Oh, I see it now. They informed on me from the first. Listen to me, Monsieur de Villefort, and understand. Dengla lied because he wants to be captain in my place. Montego, because of Mercedes de Rosas. You can't take their word. I've heard enough. Guard. Monsieur. You will escort this prisoner to the Chateau d'Ives. The Chateau d'Ives? But that's for condemned prisoners. I have a right to try. You have your trial. Come along. Wait. Monsieur de Villefort, I promise I do not know, but someday I shall. On Dego. Dengla, your reasons I understand, and I'll remember. Take him away. And you'll see me again. I warn you. Though I may rot in the Chateau d'Ives, you have my word. I'll find a way to meet you. All of you! The curtain falls on the first act of the Count of Monte Cristo with Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson. And in a few moments, we'll go on with act two. But first, during our brief intimation, we bring you another scene from the lives of that lovable family, the Brownings. It's late afternoon, and Mother is reading in the living room. The front door bursts open, and in comes 16-year-old Dot, home from a shopping trip. There's Dot in the living room. Oh, Mother, I've just bought Mitch's birthday present. It's simply darling. Oh, do let me see it, dear. Look, it's a blue organ-dee sweater. Isn't it the coziest thing you ever saw? Oh, Dot, well, he's just adorable. But dear, that isn't organ-dee. It's Angora. And I do hope Mitch will take care of it. Oh, Mother, if she ever dares to rub it with cake soap, oh, she'll only remember to use luck. Well, now let's see. Perhaps we could give her a little reminder. Oh, yes. Maybe we could put it in a little jingle, the way we did with Mary Lou's present. Why, that's the very thing. Something like this. Oh, Midgy lucks this fluffy bit so it will keep its cozy fit. Oh, Mother, that's darling. Oh, Midgy lucks this fluffy bit so it will keep its cozy fit. We'll say it every time she wears the sweater. And she can't forget. It's careless washing that makes sweaters shrink. Wool fibers are tender. They can't stand rubbing or the harmful alkali in strong soaps. Lux Flakes have no harmful alkali to hurt the sensitive wool fibers or fade colors. They keep your nice woolens, your sweaters, scarves and socks, new looking longer. This same thing is true of your silks and rayons. Lux is so mild and pure, it won't harm fibers or colors that are safe in water alone. And now, Mr. DeMille, act two of the Count of Monte Cristo, starring Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson, with Louis Stone, Lloyd Nolan, Sidney Blackmore and Paul Lucas. Eight years have passed. Eight years of living death for Edmond Dantes, lying forgotten in a dungeon of the Chateau Dief. Time has made great changes in the man. Fury and hope are gone and there remains but bitterness and an abyss of despair as all unfolding of the black silence in which he lives. There's one further step to madness and on the brink of that stands the shadow of the man called Dantes. The dungeon rats are his only companions. He speaks to them, anxious for the sound of his own voice. Listen. Listen, my friends. You hear? The guard is coming. Our dinner. A veritable banquet. Just put it down the floor, my good man. I'm not hungry, but my friends, the rats, will eat with me. Won't you Monday go and dine glass? And look at the view for he's getting fat. What year is it? Tell me. In God's name, tell me, speak to me. One word, just one word. God, listen. You hear that? That water. Rip. There where it falls under the stone. It goes forever like that. It will drive me mad. God, you're human yourself. Can you imagine what it means? The darkness in that water beating, beating against your brain. Stop it. Stop it. You'll take things as they are, 27. Don't call me that. My name is Dantes. Edmund Dantes. Ah, you're mad. Edmund Dantes is dead. It's on the records. Dead? Dead? Killed while trying to escape. Killed? Then who am I? Number 27. That's who you are. Another animal to feed. God. God, come back. That's not true. Whatever that record says, I am Dantes. Forget the water. Forget everything. But tell them I'm alive. I am Dantes. I am Dantes. I am Dantes. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. God, is that you? God, behind this wall. Beneath the floor. Are you a prisoner? Answer me. Someone there. Alive to someone there. I'll help. I'll help you, Dick. That's true. It's open. Come out. My hand. Take my hand. Well, why don't you speak? You can speak, can't you? Yes. Yes, I can speak. Another cell. Six years I burrow through a wall of rock, hoping to reach safety. And my tunnel ends in a cell. I'm sorry, comrade, for your sake. But glad for my own. To see another human being to feel the warmth of his hand to talk. I know, I know. But I shall find freedom. For now I'll have your youth to help me. Who are you, my son? I am Edmund Dantes. And I am the Abbey Farrier. The mad priest they call me here. Mad yoga? It is convenient. Even a prison guard must feel pity for a mad old man. How long have you been here? I don't know. They brought me here in February, 1815. Eight years? This is the 7th of June, 1823. Eight years? Then I'm still young. You know the date. How? When you see my cell you'll understand. We'll go then. Wait, wait, wait. And if the guard should pass, your bed there empty. But yours now? I'm sleeping on it. Or so it appears. A dummy, my son, made of blankets and straw. And there must be one here for you. I'll show you. Meanwhile, tell me why you're here. Are you innocent? Remember, I am a man of God. I am innocent, Father. Believe me. I was first made of the ship Ferrell. My captain, Captain Leclerc, was dying. He called me into that. Since then, save for the guard. I've seen no living soul except yourself. And that is all. But for one thing. I learned from the guard that to the world outside, Edmond Dantes is dead. Naturally, my son. Actually, you think this man to be a forward of risked investigation. It was so simple for me. It was so simple for him to certify he was dead. But it is better so. That certificate may serve you well when you're free. Free? I'll be farrier if there is hope of escape. I'm sure of it. One of two routes from my cell is certain to lead to the outer wall. This one was wrong. The other cannot be. Freedom. To know at last my revenge. To stand before the deal four. Dangler, Montego. Stop, Dantes. Stop. You fool. You miserable animal. Grumbling here in darkness nursing your revenge. If you could see yourself. Chained. Not just in body, but in mind and soul. What do you mean? Come. Come to my cell. I'll show you. It's unbelievable for me. The candle. Matches. The digging tools. The drawings on the walls. These. Because my mind is not in chains. The candles. Made from beef fat in my food. The matches. Broom twigs dipped in sulfur. That I heedle from the guard. A skin ailment. The mad priest remember. They can humor me. So with the bits of chalk and carbon. For these drawings on the wall. But what are they? You don't know. But you shall. Formula. The basis of all the sciences. There. Quotations from the great literature of the world. Inscribed in different forms upon these walls. You'll find the sum total of man's knowledge. It's not possible, Father. Not in this darkness alone. You've seen but a part of what I've done. And what I can do. What we can do. We? Yes, our tools are crude. We ask long, but that is fortunate, my son. For it will take long to make you worthy of your freedom. All that I know I shall teach you. And when your freedom comes. You shall go forth into the world with the mind, the body. And the soul of a superman. You will serve in Mondantes. Not as another horseman of the apocalypse. But as an avenging angel. Doing the work of God. And if your lunar observations are correct. Two months from tonight. Will be the highest tide of the year. The water will seep through the crevice. And unloosen the rocks. Our tunnel will be through. Ah. Eleven years of digging. It has not been in vain, my son. But me was not grow too anxious. And we must continue with our studies. You will be glad on your day of freedom. For our day, father. No, Edmund. Not on mine. Father. Haven't you wondered that for four days now you have worked without my help? What of it? The temporary stiffness of your arm? Not temporary. My arm is paralyzed. Paralysed? A stroke. It happened four nights ago. I told you nothing, hoping the effects would pass, but they won't. And leave you. I'll carry you on my shoulders. How far could you swim with such a weight? You see, you must go by yourself. I won't. I swear by the mind, by the soul that you have given me, I'll never leave you here alone. My son, you're worthy of all my trust. Come, come, Dante, back to myself. Numbered millions. The whole of the Spada fortune. Mine. I've heard of that, but it's been lost for centuries. Ah, yes, except to me. I know where it's to be found. I was the secretary to the last of the Spada family. At his death I became his heir, and after his death among the manuscripts of the Spada library I found a scroll, the key to the lost treasure. And where is it? On the island of Monte Cristo. Monte Cristo? I know it well. There's nothing there, nothing but rocks. There is a fortune there, Edmund. A fortune which but to find is to own the world. And you shall find it. I? There will be another attack, my son, and soon an attack that I shall not survive. Then you must go alone, and for your loyalty, not of my love for you, you are to be my heir. Father, how can I thank you? Edmund, listen. The key to the treasure, you must learn it well. Don't spoil the scroll, but engrave its contents on my brain. So it must be on yours. Now listen, and listen carefully, so that you will not forget. A jutting rock at the island's eastern point. Walk twenty paces north, then west. A rock appearing solid that will move. A hollow wall in a far corner to be broken through. A dark chamber in the grotto. A chest upon the floor. And the world is yours. Now listen again and again a hundred times. The time shall come, and you must not forget. A jutting rock at the island's eastern point. A jutting rock at the island's eastern point. Edmund, here at last, I had to keep alive. Let me help you. Last night the stroke I knew would come. And now, my son, listen. Your way of escape. I see it now. It doesn't matter now, Father, I hear me, Edmund. The cemetery of the Chateau Dief is the sea, Edmund. And so, when I die, you must scream as though it were myself. They'll come and find me dead, and shroud me in a sack. Then, at some down day, will return to throw my body from the prison wall. But you, you must take my place inside that sack. You hear? You in the sack. It'll be you that they throw from the wall into the sea. Freedom, Edmund. Father, I won't do as I say, my son. Take my place inside the sack. And remember, I've given you all knowledge, fortune, you must be an angel of justice. Oh, Edmund. This means freedom for us both. It is so beautiful. Father, my only friend. I found the one sure way of leaving the Chateau Dief. Did you tie him in the sack yet? This morning. Here's the cell. You take his head, and I'll take his feet. He's heavy for an old man, isn't he? That didn't seem this heavy this morning. Oh, well, perhaps he'll sink all the quicker. Move along now to the top of the sea wall. It's night for a swim in it. Come on, swing him out. Ready? Yes. May God have mercy on his soul. Now, run! This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Just heard act you of the Count of Monte Cristo with Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson. Before Mr. DeMille introduces our invited guest, let me remind you that more than a thousand apartment stores throughout the country advise their customers to use luxe flakes. Give your dresses, blouses, sweaters, underthings and stockings regular luxe care. And you'll be amazed how long they keep that fresh from the band box look that makes them so smart. Just remember this. Luxe is safe for anything that's safe in water alone. And here's another hint. A little goes so far. Luxe is thrifty, especially when you buy the large size box. And now, Mr. DeMille. For the enjoyment radio brings us, we're indebted not only to the sponsors who provide us with our talent, but to the hundreds of radio editors whose criticism and suggestions have aided immeasurably in advancing this medium of entertainment. Among them tonight's guest, Mr. Alton Cook is a dominant figure. Conducting a daily column in the New York World Telegram, Mr. Cook each year tabulates a continent-wide poll to determine the outstanding programs of the past 12 months. He reports tonight on this poll of radio editors in the United States and Canada. Speaking from New York City, Mr. Alton Cook. A little less than five years ago, a cast of good actors with Miriam Hopkins and John Bowles, their stars, gathered in a radio studio and sent a play called Seventh Heaven. Through loud speakers all over this continent. From this window at my elbow in New York, I can't lean out to ask, do you remember that day, Mr. DeMille? I'm sure you remember it as well as I do. That was the start of your radio theater. Before that year was out, the New York World Telegram gathered the votes of radio editors in the United States and Canada. The weekly programs of your new radio theater were voted the best dramas of 1934. The casts of that first year began like a who's who of Broadway and Hollywood. The plays, a survey of the most heartwarming and mirth-stirring writing of our time gathered from stage and screen. The pace you have set has been a hard one to keep, I'm sure. But each year, we radio editors have assured you that your pace has not slackened. The 1939 World Telegram poll of radio editors has just ended. The verdict is the same. Your radio theater has been far ahead through all the five years since that day it began. Along with all the other radio editors of the United States and Canada, our congratulations to you and to your sponsor. Along with the honor of this award, Mr. Cook, we recognize our responsibilities for the future. Now here in Hollywood, we are ready to bring you act three of the Count of Monte Cristo with Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson for all star cast. Months have passed since Edmund Dante's was thrown from the walls of the Chateau d'Eef. Picked up by a passing sloop, he at last found his way to the island of Monte Cristo, to the dark chamber in the grotto. And there, as the Abbey had told him, lay the glittering Spada fortune. Gold, diamonds, pearls, rubies, unnumbered billions. Now, years later, all Europe whispers strange tales of a strange man, a fabulously wealthy nobleman, the Count of Monte Cristo. To his palatial villa in Rome, the Count of Monte Cristo has summoned Jacopo, his private agent. Your name is a kind of magic in these days, Excellency. Everywhere they speak of you. Who is he? Where did he come from? Why, if you would care to hear, I wouldn't. Forgive me, Your Excellency. Jacopo, I selected you for this task, not alone because you are the best agent in all Europe, but also because you're supposed to know when not to talk. Yes, Your Excellency. Now, I have returned to Rome to learn what progress you have made. Your investigations are complete. Complete, Your Excellency. Three books. Hundreds of entries in each. This is a record of the man to be revealed for. This of Dongla and this of Montego. Every movement each has made since February 1815. You've done well, Jacopo. It was not always easy. These three are, shall I say, clever men. De Villefort now holds the position of King's Attorney. Much evidence of dishonesty in office. De Villefort, King's Attorney. The others? Dongla, now known as the Baron Dongla, is one of the four leading bankers of France. Conspiracy with De Villefort to defeat public interest. With De Villefort? Then the two are friends. All three are friends. De Villefort, Dongla, and Montego. Ever since Marseille, they've worked together. And before. Go on, what of Montego? Fernand de Montego. Now count de Montego. In 1815, soldier in provincial army of France. Two years later, in 1817, married... Married. Married to Mercedes de Rosa's of Marseille. You've read this, Excellency. No, my friend. But I've done some investigating of my own. Go on. Through questionable activity, Montego rose quickly in the army. Served as aid to Alipazha of Albania against the Turks. Has one child, a son, 19, alberde de Montego, left unattended... Wait a minute. A son? Yes, Excellency. And here, in Rome. Fortunate. We must find a way to be of service to this son of Montego's. Arrange it, Jacopo. At once, your Excellency. Perhaps if he is grateful enough, he may invite us to Paris. To his home. Perhaps. Yes. Yes, the time has come for the Count of Montecristo to open the gates of Paris. And Alberde de Montego shall be the key. Oh, one thing more, Jacopo. You recall, I also asked you to trace a certain young French sailor. His name was Edmond Dantes. Have you done so? I have. The report is also there. And here is the record of his death in the Château d'Eef, signed by de Villefort. Give it to me. The time will come when I shall need absolute proof as to the death or life of Edmond Dantes. Good evening, Baron. Good evening. Is the Count Montego at home? Well, yes, for sure. He is right here. Oh, Dongla, come in. Come in. Well, for now, why this sudden call here? You know that de Villefort expects us within an hour. De Villefort is stopping here later. Anyway, there may be more important things to be considered, my dear Dongla. What do you mean? We have helped each other on business matters before, haven't we? And we always managed to agree on terms? Yes, yes. Get to the point. Suppose through me your banking house gained a client, Dongla, the richest client in all Europe, the Count of Monte Cristo. What? He's here now. In there with my son, Albert, just arrived in Paris and anxious to be introduced. Well, do we understand each other, Dongla? Perfectly. Oh, here he is. Father, may I present the Count of Monte Cristo? Charmed, monsieur. Well, Barris told me of your kindness to him. How you saved him from the hands of bandits. Any kindness I have shown your son, monsieur, is more than repaid by this introduction to his father. And now, Count, may I present the Baron Dongla? A great honor. Your Excellency, the honor is mine. You, uh... You're in Paris on business, I presume. Yes, but my business is a pleasure. Will you be here long? Only until my business is completed. By the way, Baron, I should like to have your house handle my banking while I'm in Paris. Oh, I, uh... Delighted, my dear Count. Excellent. And I wonder if you would contact my British brokers for me. Tell them I said to buy 50,000 shares of Anglo-Spanish. 50,000? Uh, very good. Very good. Monsieur de Villefort, the king's attorney. Harmous, monsieur de Villefort, in good time. I'd like to have you meet the man who saved my life in Rome, the Count of Monte Cristo. I am honored. A pleasure, sir. I have followed your brilliant career at the bar with a great deal of interest. One does what one can, my dear Count. Exactly. But don't let me detain you, gentlemen. The great nation of France awaits your services. We shall meet soon again, I trust. Indeed, I shall plan for it, Count Montego. Oh, uh, Monte Cristo, you did say 50,000 Anglo-Spanish, didn't you? 50,000. Good day, gentlemen. And now the most important introduction of all. My mother. Well, she's in the garden. Somehow I didn't want her to meet you with the others. I see. Well, here she is and waiting for us. Mother, I bring him to you at last. The Count of Monte Cristo. My dear Count, how can I ever... ever... thank you for saving my son's life? It was nothing. I am more than repaid by the honor of meeting you, Madame de Montego. Two things are rare among the women of our day. Great beauty and fidelity. Here I find both. You hear, mother? I told you you'd never meet anyone like him. And now, if you'll excuse me. Oh, I almost forgot. I am planning on a ball to open my new estates near Fontainebleau. And I should like my guest of honor to be the father of my first Parisian friend, your father, Albert. You think he'd mind? Mind? He'd be delighted. I thought it would be particularly apropos to combine it with an Albanian pageant and a series of tableaux showing the court of Ali Pasha, where your father gains such fame and honor. But that would be wonderful. And you, Madame, the plan has your approval? I could only say that in paying any honor to my husband, your excellency is more than generous. Be assured, Madame. The honor I shall pay him is less than he deserves. Your Excellency. Yes? The Princess Hayday of Albania, Monsieur, in the library. She wishes to see you at once. Very well. Excuse me, Albert. Princess. I am here, my lord. You are prepared? I am. You are sure you understand? The third tableau, the one which shows Mondego supposedly defending your father from the Turks? It is then I speak. Then? You are not afraid? No, my lord. I shall be telling the truth. My father was murdered by the county Mondego. My mother and I were sold into slavery at his command. I shall tell them, everyone, that the county Mondego is not the hero they think him to be, that he betrayed my country and betrayed France. Exactly. Now come with me. But why I visited this hour, Mondego? I regret the affair, of course. The girl was obviously demented. But I apologize to my guests and... And what of this? The morning paper, Albanian princess exposes the county Mondego. Stoutie. The evidence. You gave it to them. You knew. And if I did, Mondego, what then? I'll kill you. Put down that gun. You won't shoot me, for you're afraid. Not even knowing who I am, you fear me. But when you know... Stop. Stay away from me. Put down that gun. Who are you? Go back, Mondego. Go back to when you thought life was cheap. Go back to when you could kill a man with lies. Go back, Mondego, to Marseille, the Chateau d'Iffes. Dante's! Edmund Dante's! Dante's. You may go now, my friend, and take your gun with you. Perhaps you do have courage of a sort. Goodbye, Count Mondego. Excellency, you're all right? Yes, Chacopo. And your book of evidence on the Count de Mondego, you can destroy it. The last chapter has been written. And now, D'Angla. We're ruined. Ruined, he understand? Both of us. Just a moment, D'Angla, calm yourself. Why are we ruined? D'Angla's Spanish. You sent the order to London. I acted on it here. Converted everything I own into Angla's Spanish. And it's failed. Collapse, we're ruined. Why? I knew it would collapse. You knew. But you've been buying your message to Thompson and French in London. The message was in code. Though it said to buy, it really meant to sell. You see, Thompson and French is owned by a man named Edmund Dante's. By who? Monde Cristo. What? What you said? Edmund Dante's. Monde Cristo. They are the same, D'Angla. No. No. The same. Look at me. Look at my eyes. Look, D'Angla. Dante's. No. Well, Doctor, the Baron D'Angla is insane. The mines snap completely, often in cases of sudden mental shock like this. I understand. Jacopo. Excellent. The second volume. Closed. Your Excellency. Yes. The Countess de Mendego. Here? In the drawing room. Have the Baron taken to his home. Your Excellency. I regret that you've come at such an unfortunate time. The Baron D'Angla has just been taken ill. Fair no. And now D'Angla. Your Excellency, I've come here about my son. Albia? He feels that you're responsible for his father's death. Tomorrow he's sending his seconds to you. A duel. But you can't kill him. You can't kill my boy. Madam, this duel was not of my planning. But you made it inevitable. What other courses left for him? Please, please, I beg of you. Haven't you had your vengeance, Edmond? You knew. The first day Albia brought you to me. Edmond, I can't blame you for your bitterness. But try to understand. I did wait. And then one day we went to the Chateau Diff. And they showed me there the record you had died. And then? Then nothing mattered. I married Fair No. Our life was a nightmare, Edmond. Except for Albia. He's all I have. He's all I've ever had. Save you. The you that was a thousand years ago. Please save him for me, Edmond. I shall. You need have no fear. There will be no duel. Edmond Dundas, Ilius the Count of Monte Cristo. Yes? You are under arrest. I order the King's attorney, Monsieur de Villefort. De Villefort? Volume 3. And so, gentlemen of the jury, citizens of France, one last word before you assemble to take a ballot. Look at this man. This creature pretending to be an honest sailor who was all the time in reality a spy who while imprisoned in the Chateau d'Ive undermined the structure of its tunnels and when he discovered that the old priest who was his companion held a secret to a treasure undoubtedly murdered that priest to get the treasure for himself. Know him for what he is, gentlemen, this Edmond Dante's, a traitor, a spy and without doubt a murderer. Gentlemen, as honest Frenchman, I know that you will find the defendant guilty and meet to him the punishment his treachery deserves. Well, Edmond Dante's, you still have nothing to say. If you're silent, it means your death. But that's impossible, monsieur. What? As long as my friend de Villefort is finally through, perhaps it's time I did speak. I have one witness who will testify that this trial is and must be a mockery, a farce. Who is this witness? The King's attorney, Monsieur de Villefort. Monsieur de Villefort, I'll ask you to examine this paper and this signature. Is it yours? It is. And you, gentlemen of the jury, examine the document. It is the death certificate of Edmond Dante's, signed by the King's attorney himself. He's been prosecuting a man he knew was dead. But I was not, gentlemen of the jury. I am Edmond Dante's. Yes, and Monsieur de Villefort knew I was alive. Why, then, did he affirm me dead for the same reason that he sent me to the chateau d'if without a trial? He was afraid. Afraid that if I were given a trial, a man named Nocce would be exposed as a bonapartist. And Nocce was at a father of de Villefort himself. That was why I died according to this paper. That was why I went to jail for a crime I did not commit, as did thousands of others in recent years. Here is the record, gentlemen, the record of corruption that is the career of Raymond de Villefort. Read it, my friends, and then judge which of us is treated to France and to his king. And I've promised to take the princess home. I'm not sure that I know how to say goodbye, Mercedes. You needn't, Edmond. You're free again. You can stay. I don't know. I may see France again someday. I can't be sure. Edmond Dante's has been dead so long it will take time for me to know if he can live again. He can, Edmond. Goodbye. Mother, will he ever come back? Yes, Elbert. He'll come back. He said he would a long, long time ago. So ends tonight's presentation of the Count of Monte Cristo with Robert Montgomery and Josephine Hutchinson. Our stars will be back for their curtain calls in just a moment. But first, I'd like you to listen with me to something I think will sound familiar to you. Guys, my money just disappears into thin air. Now, where did it go this time? Well, stockings, for one thing. I bought two pairs last week. Gee, if I could only cut down those awful runs. Well, now, listen to what Miss Ethel Henshaw of New York City says. Maybe she can help you. She says... There was a time when I had to scrimp and scrape on lunches to buy stockings. You see, sometimes I'd be careless about the kind of soap I used for my stockings and the runs I got were simply awful. Then I changed to Lux Flakes. Now my stockings stay nice and springy and don't have runs nearly so often. Now, that's the way to cut down on runs. There's no harmful alkali, no cake soap rubbing with gentle Lux Flakes. So Lux, your stockings every night to help them wear longer. And your dresses and under things too. Remember, a little goes so far. Lux is thrifty. Mr. DeMille. There's a question that arises every time the Count of Monte Cristo is produced. Was there ever in real life such a man as Edmund Dante's? Perhaps our stars can answer that for us now. Mr. Montgomery and Miss Hutchinson. It's quite apparent that he did live, Mr. DeMille, because the shadow thief still stands. And I know that the attendants will show any visitor the exact cell that Dante's occupied. I hate to argue with the Lady Josephine, but Dante's was pure fiction. One of the few characters that Dumas wrote about without some basis in fact. I don't know whether the attendants point out his cell just to impress gullible Americans. Or if the story was written so convincingly, it is made people believe it was true. Well, not being certain, let's skip it. But don't tell me there's no such place as Monte Cristo. There is such an island, yes. It lies in the Mediterranean Elba. Can you confirm that, Mr. DeMille? I don't know what the island is like today, Bob. But when Dumas saw Monte Cristo, it was inhabited only by wild goats. He rode a boat around the island, but never set foot on it. Yet he couldn't forget its name, nor its air of mystery. Out of that brief visit came the idea for the book. Leaving Dumas to sleep in, in well-earned peace. What about you, Bob, and this talk I hear of a play in New York? Well, that's all it is at the moment, Josephine. Just talk. But it would be great to see what a drafty Broadway stage feels like again after all these years in Hollywood's air-conditioned studios. Hmm. What a show-blades compared with a chance to do a night must fall behind footlights. Oh, give me a play like that and I'll risk pneumonia, gladly. Meanwhile, it's very satisfying, Mr. DeMille, to appear in your Lux Radio Theater. It's very close to that Broadway stage I've been talking about. My thanks, too, Mr. DeMille, as a grateful performer and an admiring fan. Good night. Your performances were delighted. Good night. Mr. DeMille, in just a moment, tells about plans for your entertainment next Monday. Lloyd Nolan, a Paramount star, appears next in St. Louis Blues. Louis Stone is from Metro-Goldbrunn Mayor's Studio. His new film is the Hardee's Ride High. Louis Silver's appeared through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox Studio, where he directed music for Tailspin. Paul Lucas is seen next in the Howl Roach picture at Captain Fury and Sidney Blackmore in MGM's Fast and Loose. Now, our producer. Next Monday's star is more than a great actor. He's a gentleman whom Hollywood likes and admires. As much as the millions who saw him on the stage and currently applaud him on the screen, Mr. Lionel Barramore. As for the play, it's one that David Bellasco and I worked out together. The Return of Peter Grimm. Mr. Barramore will be heard in the title role, which he played so effectively on the screen, and co-starred Edward Arnold, Marina Sullivan, and Peter Holden. This week marks the 29th anniversary of the Boy Scouts of America. In the past 29 years, nearly 8.5 million boys and men have pledged themselves to keep alive the high ideals of American reverence, tolerance, and loyalty. Today is never before in our history. We stand in need of the splendid spirit typified by this great organization. So we salute the Boy Scouts of America. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Lionel Barramore in the Return of Peter Grimm and co-starred Edward Arnold, Marina Sullivan, and Peter Holden. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. DeCopo, very true with Albedo Mondego, Victor Rodman as Monsieur Moral. Your announcer has been Melville Rue. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.