The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 3/Chapter 49
CHAPTER XLIX
HAYDÉE
T will be recollected that the new, or rather old, acquaintances of the Count of Monte-Cristo, residing in the Rue Meslay, were no other than Maximilian, Jules, and Emmanuel.
The very anticipations of delight to be enjoyed in his forthcoming visits—the bright, pure gleam of heavenly happiness it diffused over the almost deadly warfare in which he had voluntarily engaged—illumined his whole countenance with a look of ineffable joy and calmness, as, immediately after the departure of Villefort, his thoughts flew back to the cheering prospect before him, of tasting, at least, a brief respite from the fierce and stormy passions of his mind. Even Ali, who had hastened to obey the count's summons, went forth from his master's presence in charmed amazement at the unusual animation and pleasure depicted on features ordinarily so stern and cold; while, as though dreading to put to flight the agreeable ideas hovering over his patron's meditations, whatever they were, the faithful Nubian walked on tiptoe toward the door, holding his breath, lest its faintest sound should dissipate his master's happy reverie.
It was the hour of noon, and Monte-Cristo had set apart one hour to be devoted to Haydée; as though his so-long-crushed spirit could not all at once admit the feeling of pure and unmixed joy, but required to be prepared to receive full and perfect happiness, in the same manner as ordinary natures demand to be inured by degrees to strong sensations.
The young Greek, as we have already stated, occupied apartments wholly unconnected with those of the count. The rooms had been fitted up in strict accordance with the Eastern style; that is to say, the floors were covered with the richest carpets Turkey could produce; the walls hung with brocaded silk of the most magnificent designs and texture; while, around each chamber, luxurious divans were placed, with piles of soft and yielding cushions, that needed only to be arranged at the pleasure or convenience of such as sought repose.
Haydée's establishment consisted of three French attendants, and a fourth, who was a Greek. The three first remained constantly in a small waiting-room, ready to obey the first sound of a small golden bell, or to receive the orders of the Romaic slave, who knew just sufficient French to be enabled to transmit her mistress's orders to the three other waiting-women, who had received instructions from Monte-Cristo to treat Hay dee with all deference they would observe to a queen.
The fair Greek herself was in the apartment forming the extremity of the suite of rooms. It was a species of boudoir, circular, and lighted only from the top, which consisted of pale pink glass. Haydée was reclining upon cushions, covered with blue satin spotted with silver; her head, supported by one of her exquisitely molded arms, rested on the divan, while the other was employed in adjusting to her lips the coral tube of a rich narguileh, whose flexible pipe permitted not the vapor to ascend until fully impregnated with the rich perfumed water. Her attitude, though perfectly natural for an Eastern female, would have been deemed too coquettish in a European.
Her dress, which was that of the women of Epirus, consisted of a pair of white satin trousers, embroidered with pink roses, displaying feet like an infant's, that might well have been taken for Parian marble, had not the eye been undeceived by their shifting in and out of the slippers beautifully ornamented with gold and pearls, and turned up at the point; a blue and white-striped vest, with long open sleeves, trimmed with silver loops and buttons of pearls. She also wore a species of bodice, which exhibited the whole of the throat and upper part of the bosom; three magnificent diamond clasps fastened it where requisite. The junction of the bodice and drawers was entirely concealed by one of those many-colored scarfs whose brilliant hues and rich silken fringe have rendered them so precious in the eyes of Parisian belles.
A small cap of gold, embroidered with pearls, was placed on one side of the head; while, on the other, a natural rose, of purple, shone out amid hair so black as to seem almost blue.
The extreme beauty of the countenance was purely Grecian; there were the large, dark, melting eyes, the finely formed nose, the coral lips, and pearly teeth, that belonged to her race and country.
And to complete the whole, Haydée was in the very springtide and fuUness of youthful charms—she had not yet numbered more than nineteen or twenty summers.
Monte-Cristo summoned her Greek attendant, and bade her inquire whether it would be agreeable to her mistress to receive his visit. 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.
"You now understand, Haydée," said the count, "that from this moment you are absolutely free; that here you exercise unlimited sway, and are at liberty to lay aside or continue the costume of your country, as it may suit your inclination. Within this mansion you are absolute mistress of your actions, and may go abroad or remain in your apartments as may seem most agreeable to you. A carriage waits your orders, and Ali and Myrta will accompany you whithersoever you desire to go. There is but one favor I would entreat of you."
"Oh, speak!"
"Preserve the secret of your birth. Make no allusion to the past; nor upon any occasion be induced to pronounce the names of your illus trious father or ill-fated mother!"
"I have already told my lord I will not converse with any one save himself."
"It is possible, Haydée, that this oriental seclusion may not be practicable in Paris. Endeavor, then, to accustom yourself to our manner of living in these northern climes, as you did to those of Rome, Florence, Milan, and Madrid; it may be useful to you one of these days, whether you remain here or return to the East."
The fair girl raised her tearful eyes toward Monte-Cristo, as she said with touching earnestness, "My lord would mean whether we return to the East, would he not?"
"My child," returned Monte-Cristo, "you know full well that when ever we part, it will be by no fault or wish of mine; the tree forsakes not the blossom that embellishes it—it is the flower that falls from the tree on which it grew."
"My lord," replied Haydée, "never will I quit you; I could not exist without you."
"My poor girl, in ten years I shall be old; you will be still young."
"My father had numbered sixty years, and the snows of age were on his head, but I admired and loved him far better than all the gay, handsome youths I saw."
"Then tell me, Haydée, do you believe you shall be able to accustom yourself to our present mode of life?"
"Shall I see you!"
"Every day."
"Then what does my lord apprehend for me?"
"I fear your growing weary."
"Nay, my lord, that cannot be. In the morning, I shall think of your coming, and in the evening remember that you have been here; then, too, when alone, I can call forth mighty pictures of the past, see vast horizons bounded only by Pindus and Olympus. Oh, believe me, that when three great passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude, fill the heart, ennui can find no place."
"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Hay dee, charming and poetical. One can see that you descend from that race of goddesses who claim your country as their birthplace. Depend on my care to see that your youth is not blighted, for if you love me as a father, I love you as a child."
"Let not my lord be deceived. I did not love my father as I love you; my love for you is quite different. My father is dead, and I am not dead; while if you were to die, I would die."
The count, with a look of indescribable tenderness, extended his hand to the speaker, who carried it to her lips.
Monte-Cristo, thus soothed and calmed into a befitting state of mind to pay his visit to the Morrels, departed, murmuring as he went these lines of Pindar, "Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather it." The carriage was prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into it, the count drove off at his usual rapid pace.