with the plot, and the assistant at once pointed out that "the master" was passing by the most interesting part of the story—the prologue, in which should be told not only how those enemies betrayed the Count in his youth, but also the story of his years in prison. From that moment the story developed: Dumas seized the idea, took for his text three cities—Marseilles, Rome, Paris—and the romance was made.
"Monte Cristo" owed part of its enormous success to its verisimilitude. The details were most convincing, and had, indeed, been studied on the spot.
"There is one thing I cannot do," Dumas tells us, in his preface to the "Compagnons de Jehu," "I cannot write a book or a drama about localities I have never seen. To write 'Christine' I went to Fontainebleau; to write 'Henri III.' I went to Blois; to write 'Les Trois Mousquetaires' I went to Bethune and Boulogne; to write 'Monte Cristo' I returned to the Catalans and the Chateau d'If. This gives such a character of truth to what I write that the personages I plant in certain places seem to grow there, and some people have been led to think they have actually existed; in fact, there are persons who say they have known them. I do not wish to injure worthy family-men who live by the little industry, but if you go to Marseilles they will
