in far more dread of the smallest policeman than the grandest Grand
Seigneur. France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, that you
will not find in its eighty-five departments I say eighty-five, because
I do not include Corsica you will not find, then, in these eighty-five
departments a single hill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto
in which the commissary of police has not put up a gas-lamp. There is
but one service I can render you, and for that I place myself entirely at
your orders; that is, to present, or make my friends present, you every
where; besides, you have no need of any one to introduce you with
your name, and your fortune, and your talent" (Monte-Cristo bowed with a somewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourself everywhere,
and be well received; I can be useful in one way only if knowledge
of Parisian habits, of the means of rendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, can assist, you may dispose of me to find you a fitting dwelling here. I dare not offer to share my apartments with you, as I shared yours at Rome I, who do not possess egotism, but am yet egotistical par excellence; for, except myself, these rooms would not contain a shadow, unless it were the shadow of a woman."
"Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation; I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected marriage. May I congratulate you?"
"The affair is still in projection."
"And he who says in 'projection,' means already decided," said Debray.
"No," replied Morcerf, "my father is most anxious about it; and I hope, ere long, to introduce you, if not to my wife, at least to my intended—Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars."
"Eugenie Danglars!" said Monte-Cristo; "tell me, is not her father M. le Baron Danglars?"
"Yes," returned Morcerf; "a baron of a new creation."
"What matter," said Monte-Cristo, "if he has rendered the state services which merit this distinction?"
"Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality a liberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions of francs for Charles X. in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of the Legion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as you would think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at his button-hole."
"Ah!" interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp, keep that for the Charivari, but spare my future father-in-law before me."
Then, turning to Monte-Cristo, "You just now pronounced his name as if you knew the baron?"
"I do not know him," returned Monte-Cristo; "but I shall probably
