Precisely,

　　"Our expedition made a favorable beginning. We anchored ourvessel -- which had a double hold, where our goods wereconcealed -- amidst a number of other vessels that borderedthe banks of the Rhone from Beaucaire to Arles. On ourarrival we began to discharge our cargo in the night, and toconvey it into the town, by the help of the inn-keeper withwhom we were connected. Whether success rendered usimprudent, or whether we were betrayed, I know not; but oneevening, about five o'clock, our little cabin-boy camebreathlessly, to inform us that he had seen a detachment ofcustom-house officers advancing in our direction. It was nottheir proximity that alarmed us, for detachments wereconstantly patrolling along the banks of the Rhone, but thecare, according to the boy's account, that they took toavoid being seen. In an instant we were on the alert, but itwas too late; our vessel was surrounded, and amongst thecustom-house officers I observed several gendarmes, and, asterrified at the sight of their uniforms as I was brave atthe sight of any other, I sprang into the hold, opened aport, and dropped into the river, dived, and only rose atintervals to breathe, until I reached a ditch that hadrecently been made from the Rhone to the canal that runsfrom Beaucaire to Aigues-Mortes. I was now safe, for I couldswim along the ditch without being seen, and I reached thecanal in safety. I had designedly taken this direction. Ihave already told your excellency of an inn-keeper fromNimes who had set up a little tavern on the road fromBellegarde to Beaucaire."

　　"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I perfectly recollect him; I thinkhe was your colleague."

　　"Precisely," answered Bertuccio; "but he had, seven or eightyears before this period, sold his establishment to a tailorat Marseilles, who, having almost ruined himself in his oldtrade, wished to make his fortune in another. Of course, wemade the same arrangements with the new landlord that we hadwith the old; and it was of this man that I intended to askshelter."

　　"What was his name?" inquired the count, who seemed tobecome somewhat interested in Bertuccio's story.

　　"Gaspard Caderousse; he had married a woman from the villageof Carconte, and whom we did not know by any other name thanthat of her village. She was suffering from malarial fever,and seemed dying by inches. As for her husband, he was astrapping fellow of forty, or five and forty, who had morethan once, in time of danger, given ample proof of hispresence of mind and courage."

　　"And you say," interrupted Monte Cristo "that this tookplace towards the year" --

　　"1829, your excellency."

　　"In what month?"

　　"June."

　　"The beginning or the end?"

　　"The evening of the 3d."

　　"Ah," said Monte Cristo "the evening of the 3d of June,1829. Go on."