The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 3/Chapter 53
CHAPTER LIII
"ROBERT LE DIABLE"
HE pretext of an opera engagement was so much the more feasible, as there chanced to be on that very night a more than ordinary attraction at the Académie Royale.
Levasseur, who had been suffering under severe illness, made his reappearance in the character of Bertram, and, as usual, the announcement of the production of the favorite composer had attracted the very éliteof Parisian fashion. Morcerf, like most other young men of rank and fortune, had his orchestra stall, With the certainty of always finding a seat in at least a dozen of the principal boxes occupied by persons of his acquaintance; he had, moreover, his right of entry into the omnibus-box. Château-Renaud rented a stall beside his own, while Beauchamp, in his editorial capacity, had unlimited range all over the theater.
It happened that on that particular night the minister's box was placed at the disposal of Lucien Debray, who offered it to the Count de Morcerf, who again, upon his rejection of it by Mercédès, sent it to Danglars, with an intimation that he should probably do himself the honor of joining the baroness and her daughter during the evening, in the event of their accepting the box in question. The ladies received the offer with too much pleasure to dream of a refusal. To no class of persons is the presentation of a gratuitous opera-box more acceptable than to the wealthy millionaire.
Danglars had, however, declared that his political principles, as well as being a member of the opposition party, would not permit him to enter the minister's box; the baroness had, therefore, dispatched a note to Lucien Debray, bidding him call for them, it being wholly impossible for her to go alone with her daughter to the opera.
There is no gainsaying the plain fact that a very unfavorable construction would have been put upon the circumstance of two ladies going together, while the addition of a third, in the person of her mother's admitted lover, enabled Mademoiselle Danglars to defy all remarks.
The curtain rose, as usual, to an almost empty house, it being one
of the customs of Parisian fashion never to appear at the opera until after the commencement, so that the first act is generally played without the slightest attention being paid to it, that part of the audience already assembled being too much occupied in observing the fresh arrivals, amidst the noise of opening and shutting doors, and the buzz of conversation.
"Surely," said Albert, as the door of a box on the first circle opened, "that must be the Countess G."
"And who may she be, pray?" inquired Chateau-Renaud, carelessly.
"What a question! as if all the world did not know who the Countess G was."
"Ah, to be sure!" replied Chateau-Renaud; "I remember now your lovely Venetian, is it not?"
"Herself!"
At this moment the countess perceived Albert, and returned his salutation with a graceful smile.
"You are acquainted with her, it seems?" said Chateau-Renaud.
"Franz introduced me to her at Rome," replied Albert.
"Well, then, will you do as much for me in Paris as he did for you in Rome?"
"With much pleasure."
"Silence!" exclaimed the audience.
This manifestation on the part of the spectators of their wish to enjoy the music, produced not the slightest effect on the two young men, who continued talking.
"The countess was present at the races in the Champ-de-Mars," said Chateau-Renaud.
"To-day?"
"Yes."
"Bless me! I quite forgot the races. Did you bet?"
"Oh, merely a paltry fifty louis."
"And who was the winner?"
"Nautilus. I betted on him."
"But there were three races, were there not?"
"Yes; there was the prize given by the Jockey Club a gold cup. you know and a very singular circumstance occurred about that race."
"What was it?"
"Silence!" again vociferated the music-loving part of the audience.
"Why, that it was gained by a horse and rider utterly unknown on the course."
"Is that possible?"
"True as day. The fact was, nobody had observed a horse entered by the name of Vampa, or that of a jockey styled Job, when, at the last moment, a splendid roan, mounted by a jockey about as big as your fist, presented themselves at the starting-post. They were obliged to stuff at least twenty pounds weight of shot in the small rider's pockets to make him weight; but with all that he outstripped Ariel and Barbare, against whom he ran, by at least three whole lengths."
"And was it not found out at last to whom the horse and jockey belonged?"
"No!"
"You say that the horse was entered under the name of Yampa?"
"Exactly; that was the title."
"Then," answered Albert, "I am better informed than you are, and know who the owner of that horse was!"
"Silence there!" cried the whole collective force of the parterre.
And this time the tone in which the command was such that the two young men perceived, for the first time, that the mandate was addressed to them.
They turned for an instant as though demanding some one person who would take upon himself the responsibility of what they deemed excessive impertinence; but as no one responded to the challenge, the friends turned again to the stage.
At this moment the door of the minister's box opened, and Madame Danglars, accompanied by her daughter, entered, escorted by Lucien Debray.
"Ha, ha!" said Chateau-Renaud, "here come some friends of yours, viscount! What are you looking at there I don't you see they are trying to catch your eye?"
Albert turned round just in time to receive a gracious wave of the fan from Madame la Baronne; as for Mademoiselle Eugenie, she scarcely vouchsafed to turn her large black eyes even to the orchestra.
"I tell you what, my dear fellow," said Chateau-Renaud, "I cannot imagine what objection you can possibly have to Mademoiselle Danglars that is, setting aside her inferior rank, which, by the way, I don't think you care very much about. Now, barring all that, I mean to say she is a deuced fine girl."
"Handsome, certainly," replied Albert, "but my taste, I confess, inclines to a softer, gentler, and more feminine style."
"Bless my heart!" exclaimed Chateau-Renaud, who, because he had seen his thirtieth summer, assumed a paternal air with his more youthful friend; "you young people are never satisfied; why, your parents have chosen you a bride who might serve as the model of the 'Hunting Diana,' and yet you are not content."
"No; I should have liked something more in the manner of the Yenus of Milo or Capua; but this chase-loving Diana, continually surrounded by her nymphs, gives me a sort of alarm, lest she should some day entail on me the fate of Action."
And, indeed, it required but one glance of Mademoiselle Danglars to comprehend the justness, as well as nature, of Morcerf's remark.
She was certainly handsome, but her beauty was of too marked and decided a character to please a fastidious taste. Her hair was raven black, but amid its natural waves might be seen a species of rebellion to the hand that sought to band and braid it; her eyes, of the same color as her hair, surmounted by well-arched brows, whose great defect, how ever, consisted in an almost habitual frown, wore an expression of firmness that astonished one in a woman; her nose was precisely what a statuary would have chosen for a Juno. Her mouth, which was too large, displayed teeth of pearly whiteness, rendered still more conspicuous by the over-redness of her lips, contrasting strongly with her naturally pale complexion. Lastly, a dark mole, of much larger dimensions than these freaks of nature generally are, placed just at the corner of her mouth, tended to increase the expression of resolution that alarmed Morcerf.
The rest of Mademoiselle Eugenie's person was in perfect keeping with the head just described; she, indeed, reminded you of the "Hunting Diana," as Chateau-Renaud observed, but with a more haughty and resolute air.
As regarded her attainments, the only fault to be found with them was the same as with her beauty, that they were somewhat masculine. She was a perfect linguist; a first-rate artist; wrote poetry, and composed music. To the study of the latter she professed to be entirely devoted, studying it with a schoolfellow without fortune, but with every talent to become, it was said, an excellent singer.
It was rumored that she was an object of almost paternal interest to one of the principal composers of the day, who excited her to spare no pains in the cultivation of her voice, which might hereafter prove a source of wealth.
The possibility that Louise d'Armilly (this was the name of the young virtuosa) might enter the stage, made Mile. Danglars, while receiving her at home, refuse to show herself in her company in public. Still, though not received at the Hotel Danglars in the light of a friend, Louise was treated with far more kindness than is usually bestowed on governesses.
The curtain fell almost immediately after the entrance of Madame Danglars into her box, the orchestra stalls were deserted for the accustomed half-hour's interval allowed between the acts, and the audience were left to promenade the salon, or to pay visits in their boxes.
Morcerf and Chateau-Renaud were amongst the first to avail them selves of this permission.
on the part of the young viscount arose from his impatience to join her party, and she whispered her expectations to her daughter, that Albert was hurrying to pay his respects to them. Mademoiselle Eugenie, how ever, merely returned a dissenting movement of the head, while she directed the attention of her mother to an opposite loge, situated on the first circle, in which sat the Countess G, where Morcerf had just made his appearance.
"So we meet again, my traveling friend, do we?" cried the countess, extending her hand to him with all the warmth and cordiality of an old acquaintance; "it was really very good of you to recognize me so quickly, and still more so to bestow your first visit on me."
"Be assured," replied Albert, "that if I had been aware of your arrival in Paris, and had known your address, I should have paid my respects to you long ere this. Allow me to introduce my friend, Baron de Château-Renaud, one of the rare gentlemen now to be found in France, and from whom I have just learned that you were at the races in the Champ-de-Mars, yesterday."
Château-Renaud bowed to the countess.
"Were you at the races, then, M. le Baron?" inquired the countess eagerly.
"I was."
"Well, then," pursued Madame G, with considerable animation, "you can probably tell me to whom belonged the winner of the Jockey Club stakes?"
"I am sorry to say I cannot," replied the baron; "and I was just asking the same question of my friend Albert."
"Are you very anxious to know, Madame la Comtesse!" asked Albert.
"To know what?"
"The name of the owner of the winning horse!"
"Excessively; only imagine but do tell me, M. le Vicomte, whether you really are acquainted with it or no?"
"I beg your pardon, madame, but you were about to relate some story, were you not I You said, ' only imagine.'"
"Well, then, listen. You must know I felt so interested for the splendid roan horse, with his elegant little rider, so tastefully dressed in a pink satin jacket and cap, that I could not help praying for their success with as much earnestness as though the half of my fortune were at stake; and when I saw them outstrip all the others, and come to the winning-post in such gallant style, I actually clapped my hands with joy. Imagine my surprise when, upon returning home, I met on the staircase the jockey in the pink jacket! I concluded that, by chance, the owner of the winning horse must live in the same hotel as myself; but, lo! as I entered my apartments I beheld the very gold cup awarded as a prize to the unknown horse and rider. Inside the cup was a small piece of paper, on which were written these words—'From Lord Ruthven to Countess G.'"
"Precisely; I was sure of it," said Morcerf.
"Sure of what?"
"That the owner of the horse was Lord Ruthven himself."
"What Lord Ruthven do you mean?"
"Why, our Lord Ruthven."
"The Vampire of the Salle Argentina!"
"Mercy upon me!" exclaimed the countess; "is he here too?"
"To be sure."
"And you visit him? meet him at your own house and elsewhere!"
"I assure you he is my most intimate friend, and M. de Chateau-Renaud has also the honor of his acquaintance."
"But what makes you so convinced of his being the winner of the Jockey Club prize?"
"The winning horse entered by the name of Vampa."
"What of that?"
"Why, do you not recollect the name of the celebrated bandit by whom I was made prisoner?"
"True."
"And from whose hands the count extricated me in so wonderful a manner?"
"Yes."
"His name was Vampa; you see it must be the count."
"But what could have been his motive for sending the cup to me?"
"In the first place, because I had spoken much of you to him, as you may believe; and in the second, because he delighted to see a country woman take so lively an interest in his success."
"I trust and hope you never repeated to the count all the foolish remarks we used to make about him."
"I should not like to affirm upon oath that I have not. Besides, his presenting you the cup under the name of Lord Ruthven. . . ."
"Oh, but that is dreadful! Why, the man must owe me a fearful grudge."
"Does his conduct seem that of an enemy?"
"No! certainly not!"
"Well, then"
"And so he is in Paris?""He is."
"And what effect does he produce?"
"Why," said Albert, "certainly, during the first week of his arrival here, he was the great lion of the day; then the coronation of the Queen of England took place, followed almost immediately afterward by the robbery of Mademoiselle Mars' diamonds; and two such events turned attention to other channels."
"My good fellow," said Chateau-Renaud, "the count is your friend, and you treat him as such. Do not believe what Albert is telling you, Madame la Comtesse; the sensation excited by the appearance of the Count of Monte-Cristo is as strong as ever. His first act was to present a pair of horses, worth thirty-two thousand francs, to Madame Danglars; his second, the preservation of Madame de Villefort's life; now it seems that he has carried off the prize awarded by the Jockey Club! I therefore maintain, in despite of whatever Morcerf may advance, that not only is the count the object of universal remark at this present moment, but also that he will continue to be so while he pleases to exhibit an eccentricity of conduct which, after all, may be his ordinary mode of life."
"Perhaps you are right," said Morcerf; "but, meanwhile, who is the occupant of the Russian Ambassador's box?"
"Which box do you mean?"
"The one between the pillars on the first tier, it seems to have been fitted up entirely afresh."
"Did you observe any one during the first act?"
"Where?"
"In that box?"
"No!" replied the countess; "it was certainly empty during the first act; "then, resuming the subject of their previous conversation, she said, "And so you believe it was your Count of Monte-Cristo that gained the prize?"
"I am sure of it."
"And who sent the cup to me?"
"Undoubtedly!"
"But I do not know him," said the countess; "I have a strong inclination to return it?"
"Do no such thing, I beg of you; it would only produce a second goblet, formed of a magnificent sapphire, or hollowed out of a gigantic ruby. It is his manner of acting, and you must take him as you find him."
At this moment the bell rang to announce the drawing up of the curtain for the second act. Albert rose to return to his place."Shall I see you again?" asked the countess.
"If you will permit me, at the next pause in the opera, I will do myself the honor of coming to inquire whether there is anything in which I can be useful to you in Paris?"
"Pray take notice," said the countess, "that my present residence is 22, Rue de Rivoli, and that I am at home to my friends every Saturday evening."
The young men bowed, and quitted the box. Upon reaching their stalls, they found the whole of the audience in the parterre standing up, and directing their gaze toward the box formerly possessed by the ambassador of Russia.
A man of from thirty-five to forty years of age, dressed in deep black, had just entered, accompanied by a lady dressed after the Eastern style; she was young and surpassingly beautiful, while the rich magnificence of her attire drew all eyes upon her.
"By heavens!" said Albert, "it is Monte-Cristo, with his Greek!"
The strangers were, indeed, no other than the count and Haydée. In an instant the lady was the object of the attention, not only of the stalls, but of the whole house; and even ladies leaned forward from the boxes to admire the superb diamonds glittering beneath the rays of the chandeliers.
The second act passed away during one continued buzz of voices intimating that some great and universally interesting event had occurred; this woman, so young, so fair, so dazzling, was the most remarkable spectacle to be seen.
Upon this occasion a sign from Madame Danglars intimated her desire to see Albert in her box, and the good taste of Morcerf would not permit his neglecting an invitation so unequivocally given. At the close of the act he, therefore, proceeded to the baroness's box.
Having bowed to the two ladies, he extended his hand to Debray. By the baroness he was most graciously welcomed, while Eugenie received him with her accustomed coldness.
"My dear fellow!" said Debray, "you have just come in the very nick of time to help a fellow-creature regularly at a standstill. There is madame overwhelming me with questions respecting the count; she insists upon it that I can tell her where he came from, and whither he is going. Being no Cagliostro, and by way of getting out of the scrape, I said, 'Ask Morcerf; he has got the whole history of Monte-Cristo at his fingers' ends. Whereupon the baroness made you a sign to come hither."
"Is it not almost incredible," said Madame Danglars, "that a person having at least half a million of secret-service money at his command
should possess so little information?""Let me assure you, madame," said Lucien, "that had I really the sum you mention at my disposal, I would employ it more profitably than in obtaining particulars respecting the Count of Monte-Cristo, whose only merit in my eyes consists in his being twice as rich as a
nabob. However, I have turned the business over to Morcerf, so pray settle it with him. I care nothing more about it."
"I am very sure no nabob would have sent me a pair of horses worth thirty-two thousand francs, wearing on their heads four diamonds valued at five thousand francs each." "He seems to have a mania for diamonds," said Morcerf, smiling; "and I verily believe that, like Potemkin, he keeps his pockets filled, for the sake of strewing them along the road, as Tom Thumb did his flint stones."
"Perhaps he has discovered some mine," said Madame Danglars. "I suppose you know he has an order for unlimited credit on the baron?"
"I was not aware of it," replied Albert, "but I can readily believe it."
"And, further, that he stated to M. Danglars his intention of staying a year in Paris, during which time he proposed to spend six millions."
"He must be the Shah of Persia, traveling incog.
"Have you remarked the extreme beauty of that young lady, M. Lucien?" inquired Eugenie.
"I really never met with any woman so ready to do justice to another as yourself," continued Lucien, raising his lorgnette to his eye. "A most lovely creature!" cried he.
"Who is this young person, M. Morcerf," inquired Eugenie; "does anybody know?"
"Allow me to state," said Albert, replying to this direct appeal, "I know almost all about the singular person of whom we are now conversing the girl is a Greek."
"So I should presume by her dress; you tell me no more than what the whole of the spectators know."
"I am extremely sorry you find me so ignorant a cicerone," replied Morcerf, "but I am obliged to confess I have nothing further to communicate—yes, I do know one thing more: she is a musician; for one day that I breakfasted with the count, I heard the sound of a guzla it is impossible it could have been touched by any other finger than her own."
"Then your count entertains visitors, does he?" asked Madame Danglars.
"In a most noble manner, I can assure you."
"I must persuade M. Danglars to invite him to a ball or dinner, or something of the sort, that he may ask us in return."
"What!" said Debray, laughing; "you would go to his house?"
"Why not? my husband could accompany me."
"But he is a bachelor."
"You have ample proof to the contrary," said the baroness, as she laughingly pointed to the beautiful Greek.
"No, no!" exclaimed Debray; "she is his slave. Do you recollect, Morcerf, his telling us so at your breakfast?"
"Well, then," said the baroness, "she has more the air of a princess."
"Of the Arabian Nights?"
"If you like. What is it that constitutes a princess I Jewels! And she is one blaze of diamonds."
"To me she seems overloaded," observed Eugenie; "she would look far better if she wore fewer, and we should then be able to see her finely-formed throat and wrists."
"See the artist!" exclaimed Madame Danglars; "my poor Eugenie, you must conceal your passion for the fine arts."
"I admire all that is beautiful," returned the young lady.
"What do you think of the count?" inquired Debray; "he is not much amiss, according to my ideas."
"The count?" repeated Eugenie, as though it had not occurred to her to observe him sooner; "the count? oh! he is dreadfully pale."
"I quite agree with you," said Morcerf; "and it is in that very paleness that consists the secret we want to find out. The Countess G insists upon it he is a vampire."
"Then the Countess G has returned, has she?" inquired the baroness.
"Is that she, mamma?" asked Eugenie; "almost opposite to us, with that profusion of beautiful light hair?"
"Yes, yes, there she is!" cried Madame Danglars; "shall I tell you what you ought to do, Morcerf?"
"Command me, madame."
"Well, then, you should go and bring your Count of Monte-Cristo to us."
"What for?" asked Eugenie.
"What for! why, to converse with him, of course; have you no curiosity to see him?"
"None whatever," replied Eugenie.
"Strange girl!" murmured the baroness.
"He will very probably come of his own accord," said Morcerf. "There! do you see, madame, he recognizes you, and bows."
The baroness returned the salute in the most smiling and graceful manner.
"Well," said Morcerf, "I may as well be magnanimous, and tear myself away. I will go and try if there are any means of speaking to him."
"Go straight to his box that will be the simplest plan."
"But I have never been presented."
"Presented to whom?"
"To the beautiful Greek."
"You say she is only a slave?"
"While you assert that she is a princess. No; I hope that when he observes me leave you, he will come and take my place."
"It is probable; therefore, go."
"Adieu! I sacrifice myself, remember that," said Albert, as he made his parting bow.
As he had predicted, just as he was passing the count's box the door opened, and Monte-Cristo came forth. After giving some directions in Arabic to Ali, who stood in the lobby, the count took Albert's arm.
Carefully closing the box-door, Ali placed himself before it, while a crowd of wondering spectators assembled round the Nubian.
"Upon my word," said Monte-Cristo, "Paris is a strange city, and the Parisians a very strange people; really, one might suppose poor Ali was the only Nubian they had ever beheld; now, I will pledge myself that a Frenchman might show himself in public, either in Tunis, Constantinople, Bagdad, or Cairo, without drawing a circle of gazers around him."
"That shows that the Eastern nations have good sense, and look only at what is worth looking at. However, as far as Ali is concerned, I can assure you, the interest he excites is merely from the circumstance of his being your attendant; you, who are, at this moment, the fashionable person."
"Really? and what has procured me so flattering a distinction?"
"What? why, yourself, to be sure! You give away horses worth a thousand louis; you save the lives of ladies of rank; you enter thor oughbred racers under the name of Major Black, with little marmoset jockeys; then, when you have carried off the gold cup, you give it to some handsome woman."
"And who has filled your head with all this nonsense?"
"Why, in the first place, Madame Danglars, who, by the by, is dying to see you in her box, or to have you seen there by others; secondly, Beauchamp's journal; and thirdly, from my own imagination. Why, if you sought concealment, did you call your horse Vampa?"
"That was an oversight, certainly," replied the count; "but tell me, does the Count de Morcerf never visit the opera? I have been looking for him, but without success."
"He will be here to-night."
"In what part of the house?"
"In the baroness's box, I believe."
"Is the charming young person with her her daughter?"
"Yes."
"Indeed? then I congratulate you." Morcerf smiled.
"We will discuss that subject at length some future time," said he. "But what think you of the music?"
"What music?""That which you have just heard."
"Oh, it is admirable as the production of a human composer, sung by a party of bipeds without feathers, as Diogenes styled mankind."
"Why, my dear count, you speak as if you could at pleasure enjoy the seven choirs of paradise?"
"You are right, in some degree; but when I wish to listen to sounds so exquisitely attuned to melody as mortal ear never yet listened to, I go to sleep."
"Then why not indulge yourself at once? Sleep, by all means; for what else was the opera invented?" "No, thank you. Your orchestra is too noisy. For the sleep I have mentioned, calm and silence are necessary; a certain preparation must also"
"I know—the famous hashish!"
"Precisely. My dear viscount, come and sup with me whenever you wish to hear music."
"I have already enjoyed that treat when breakfasting with you," said Morcerf.
"Do you mean at Rome?"
"I do."
"Ah, you heard Haydée's guzla; the poor exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me the airs of her native land."
Morcerf did not pursue the subject, and Monte-Cristo himself fell into a reverie.
The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the curtain.
"You will excuse my leaving you," said the count, turning in the direction of his box.
"What! are you going?"
"Pray, say everything that is kind to Countess G on the part of her friend the vampire."
"And what to the baroness?"
"That, with her permission, I propose doing myself the honor of paying my respects in the course of the evening."
The third act had now commenced; and during its progress the Count de Morcerf, according to promise, made his appearance in the box of Madame Danglars. The Count de Morcerf was not one of those persons whose aspect would create curiosity in a place of public amusement; his presence, therefore, was wholly unnoticed, save by the occupants of the box in which he had just seated himself.
Monte-Cristo, however, marked his coming, and a slight smile passed over his lips. Haydée, whose soul seemed centered in the business of the stage, like all unsophisticated natures, delighted in whatever addressed itself to the eye or ear.
The third act passed off as usual. Mesdemoiselles Noblet, Julie, and Leroux executed the customary quantity of pirouettes; Robert duly challenged the Prince of Granada; and the royal parent of the Princess Isabella, taking his daughter by the hand, swept round the stage to display his velvet robe.
After which the curtain again fell, and the spectators poured forth from the theater into the lobbies and salon. The count also, quitting his, proceeded at once to the box of Madame Danglars, who could scarcely restrain a cry of mingled pleasure and surprise.
"Surely so trifling a circumstance cannot deserve remembrance. I had entirely forgotten it."
"But it is not so easy to forget, M. le Comte, that the very day following you saved the life of my dear friend, Madame de Villefort, which I had placed in danger by lending her the same horses."
"This time, at least, I cannot accept of your flattering merits. Ali, my Nubian slave, had the good fortune of rendering to your friend that eminent assistance."
"Was it Ali," asked the Count de Morcerf, "who rescued my son from the hands of bandits?"
"No, M. le Comte," replied Monte-Cristo, pressing with friendly warmth the hand held out to him by the general; "in this instance I accept your thanks; but you have already tendered them, and fully discharged your debt and I feel mortified to find you still revert to it. May I beg of you, Madame la Baronne, to honor me with an introduction to your daughter?"
"Oh! you are no stranger—at least not by name," replied Madame Dauglars, "and the last two or three days we have really talked of nothing else but yourself. Eugenie," continued the baroness, turning toward her daughter, "M. le Comte de Monte-Cristo."
The count bowed, while Mademoiselle Danglars returned a slight inclination of the head.
"You have a charming young person with you to-night, M. le Comte," said Eugenie. "Your daughter, I presume?"
"No, indeed," said Monte-Cristo, astonished at the coolness and freedom of the question. She is a poor Greek left under my care."
"And what is her name?"
"Haydée," replied Monte-Cristo.
"A Greek?" murmured Count de Morcerf.
"Yes, indeed, count," said Madame Danglars; "and tell me, did you ever see at the court of Ali Tebelin, whom you so gloriously served, a richer costume than is displayed before us?"
"Did I hear rightly, M. le Comte," said Monte-Cristo, "that you served at Janina?"
"I was inspector-general of the pasha's troops," replied Morcerf; "and I seek not to conceal that I owe my fortune, such as it is, to the liberality of the illustrious Albanese chief."
"But look! pray look," exclaimed Madame Danglars.
"Where?" stammered out Morcerf.
"There, there!" said Monte-Cristo, as, wrapping his arms around the count, he leaned with him over the front of the box, just as Haydée, whose eyes were in search of the count, perceived his pale features close to the countenance of Morcerf, whom he was holding in his arms.
This sight produced on the girl the effect of the head of Medusa. She bent forward as though to assure herself of what she beheld, then uttering a faint cry, threw herself back in her seat. The sound reached the ear of Ali, who instantly opened the box-door.
"Bless me!" exclaimed Eugenie, "what has happened to your ward, M. le Comte? she seems taken suddenly ill!"
"Very probably!" answered the count. "But do not be alarmed on her account! Haydée's nervous system is delicately organized, and she is peculiarly susceptible of odors—nay, there are some which cause herto faint if brought into her presence. However," continued Monte-Cristo, drawing a small phial from his pocket, "I have a remedy."
So saying, he bowed to the baroness and her daughter, exchanged a parting shake of the hand with Debray and the count, and quitted for the box. Upon his return to Haydée, he found her extremely pale. Directly she saw him she seized his hand, while the icy coldness of her own made Monte-Cristo start. "With whom was my lord conversing a few minutes since?" asked she.
"With the Count de Morcerf," answered Monte-Cristo. "He served your illustrious father, and he owes his fortune to him!"
"Ah, traitor!" exclaimed Haydée; "he it was who sold him to the Turks, and the fortune was the price of his treachery! Knowest thou not that, my dear lord?"
"Something of this I heard in Epirus," said Monte-Cristo; "but the particulars are still unknown to me. You shall relate them to me, my child. They are, no doubt, curious."
"Yes, yes! but let us go hence, I beseech you. I feel as though it would kill me to remain longer near that man."
So saying, Haydée arose, and wrapping herself in her bournous of white cachemire embroidered with pearls and coral, she hastily quitted the box at the moment when the curtain was rising upon the fourth act.
"Do you observe," said the Countess G to Albert, who had returned to her side, "that man does nothing like other people? he listens most devoutly to the third act of Robert le Diable, and when the fourth begins, he goes away."