Page:The Count of Monte-Cristo (1887 Volume 3).djvu/36

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16
THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.

Haydée's only reply was to direct her servant by a sign to withdraw the tapestried curtain that hung before the door, the opening thus made serving as a frame to the graceful tableau.

As Monte-Cristo approached, she leaned upon the elbow of the arm that held the narguileh, and extending to him her other hand, said, with a smile, in the sonorous language spoken by the maids of Athens and Sparta:

"Why demand permission ere you enter? Are you no longer my master, or have I ceased to be your slave?" Monte-Cristo returned her smile.

"Haydée," said he, "you well know."

"Why do you address me so coldly—so distantly?" asked the fair Greek. "Have I by any means displeased you? Oh, if so, punish me as you will; but do not—do not speak to me in tones so formal!"

"Listen to me, Haydée," replied the count. "You know that we are now in France, and that you are consequently free!"

"Free!" repeated the fair girl. "Of what use would freedom be to me!"

"It would enable you to quit me."

"Quit you! Wherefore should I do so?"

"That is not for me to say; but we are now about to mix in society—to visit and to be visited."

"I desire to see no one but yourself."

"And should you see one whom you could prefer, think not I would be so selfish as to——"

"No, no!" answered Haydée, with energetic warmth, "that can never be. No man could appear charming in my eyes but yourself. None save yourself and my father have ever possessed my affection."

"My poor child!" replied Monte-Cristo, "that is merely because your father and myself are the only men with whom you have ever conversed."

"And what care I for all others in the world! My father called me his joy,—you style me your love,—and both of you bestowed on me the endearing appeUation of your child!"

"Do you remember your father, Haydée?"

The young Greek smiled.

"He is here, and here," said she, touching her eyes and her heart.

"And where am I?" inquired Monte-Cristo, laughingly.

"You?" cried she, with tones of thrilling tenderness, "you are every where!" Monte-Cristo took the delicate hand of the young girl in his, and was about to raise it to his lips, when the simple child of nature hastily withdrew it, and presented her fair cheek instead.