"The name of M. Noirtier," interposed Maximilian, "is celebrated throughout Europe; he was a statesman of high standing; and I know not whether you are aware, Valentine, that he took a leading part in every Bonapartean conspiracy set on foot during the restoration of the Bourbons."
"Oh, I have often heard whispers of things that seem to me most strange—the father a Bonapartist, the son a Royalist. I turned toward my grandfather; he looked at the newspaper. 'What is the matter, dear grandfather?' said I; 'are you pleased?' He gave me a sign in the affirmative. 'With what my father said just now!' He returned a sign in the negative. 'Perhaps you liked what M. Danglars remarked?' Another sign in the negative. 'Oh, then, you are glad to hear that M. Morrel (I durst not pronounce the dear name of Maximilian) had been made an officer of the Legion of Honor? He signified assent in a way that convinced me he was delighted that you, who were a perfect stranger to him, had been made an officer of the Legion of Honor! Perhaps, though, it was a mere whim, for he is almost falling into a second childhood! but, for all that, I love him dearly."
"How singular," murmured Maximilian, "that your father should hate the very mention of my name, while your grandfather, on the contrary—strange, indeed, are party likes and dislikes."
"Hush!" cried Valentine, suddenly, "conceal yourself!—Go, go! Some one conies!"
Maximilian seized his spade and began to dig in his lucern, in the most pitiless manner.
"Mademoiselle! mademoiselle!" exclaimed a voice from behind the trees. "Madame is searching for you everywhere; there are visitors in the drawing-room."
"Who is it!" inquired Valentine, much agitated.
"Oh, mademoiselle! I believe it is some grand prince or lord; they say he was the Count of Monte-Cristo."
"I will come directly," said Valentine aloud.
The name caused a shock on the other side of the iron gate to him on whose ear the "I will come!" of Valentine sounded the usual parting knell of all their interviews."
"Now, then," said Maximilian, leaning on the spade, "how comes it that the Count of Monte-Cristo is acquainted with M. de Villefort?"
