"That one?"
"Yes, the third."
"The one in the dark blue coat?"
"Yes."
"He is a colleague of the count, and one of the most active opponents to the idea of providing the Chamber of Peers with a uniform.He was very successful upon that question.He stood badly with the Liberal papers, but his noble opposition to the wishes of the court is now getting him into favor with the journalists.They talk of making him an ambassador.""And what are his claims to the peerage?""He has composed two or three comic operas, written four or five articles in the Siecle, and voted five or six years on the ministerial side.""Bravo, Viscount," said Monte Cristo, smiling; "you are a delightful cicerone.And now you will do me a favor, will you not?""What is it?"
"Do not introduce me to any of these gentlemen; and should they wish it, you will warn me." Just then the count felt his arm pressed.He turned round; it was Danglars.
"Ah, is it you, baron?" said he.
"Why do you call me baron?" said Danglars; "you know that Icare nothing for my title.I am not like you, viscount; you like your title, do you not?""Certainly," replied Albert, "seeing that without my title Ishould be nothing; while you, sacrificing the baron, would still remain the millionaire.""Which seems to me the finest title under the royalty of July," replied Danglars.
"Unfortunately," said Monte Cristo, "one's title to a millionaire does not last for life, like that of baron, peer of France, or Academician; for example, the millionaires Franck & Poulmann, of Frankfort, who have just become bankrupts.""Indeed?" said Danglars, becoming pale.
"Yes; I received the news this evening by a courier.I had about a million in their hands, but, warned in time, Iwithdrew it a month ago."
"Ah, mon Dieu," exclaimed Danglars, "they have drawn on me for 200,000 francs!""Well, you can throw out the draft; their signature is worth five per cent.""Yes, but it is too late," said Danglars, "I have honored their bills.""Then," said Monte Cristo, "here are 200,000 francs gone after" --"Hush, do not mention these things," said Danglars; then, approaching Monte Cristo, he added, "especially before young M.Cavalcanti;" after which he smiled, and turned towards the young man in question.Albert had left the count to speak to his mother, Danglars to converse with young Cavalcanti; Monte Cristo was for an instant alone.Meanwhile the heat became excessive.The footmen were hastening through the rooms with waiters loaded with ices.Monte Cristo wiped the perspiration from his forehead, but drew back when the waiter was presented to him; he took no refreshment.Madame de Morcerf did not lose sight of Monte Cristo; she saw that he took nothing, and even noticed his gesture of refusal.
"Albert," she asked, "did you notice that?""What, mother?"
"That the count has never been willing to partake of food under the roof of M.de Morcerf.""Yes; but then he breakfasted with me -- indeed, he made his first appearance in the world on that occasion.""But your house is not M.de Morcerf's," murmured Mercedes;"and since he has been here I have watched him.""Well?"
"Well, he has taken nothing yet."
"The count is very temperate." Mercedes smiled sadly.
"Approach him," said she, "and when the next waiter passes, insist upon his taking something.""But why, mother?"
"Just to please me, Albert," said Mercedes.Albert kissed his mother's hand, and drew near the count.Another salver passed, loaded like the preceding ones; she saw Albert attempt to persuade the count, but he obstinately refused.
Albert rejoined his mother; she was very pale.
"Well," said she, "you see he refuses?"
"Yes; but why need this annoy you?"
"You know, Albert, women are singular creatures.I should like to have seen the count take something in my house, if only an ice.Perhaps he cannot reconcile himself to the French style of living, and might prefer something else.""Oh, no; I have seen him eat of everything in Italy; no doubt he does not feel inclined this evening.""And besides," said the countess, "accustomed as he is to burning climates, possibly he does not feel the heat as we do.""I do not think that, for he has complained of feeling almost suffocated, and asked why the Venetian blinds were not opened as well as the windows.""In a word," said Mercedes, "it was a way of assuring me that his abstinence was intended." And she left the room.Aminute afterwards the blinds were thrown open, and through the jessamine and clematis that overhung the window one could see the garden ornamented with lanterns, and the supper laid under the tent.Dancers, players, talkers, all uttered an exclamation of joy -- every one inhaled with delight the breeze that floated in.At the same time Mercedes reappeared, paler than before, but with that imperturbable expression of countenance which she sometimes wore.She went straight to the group of which her husband formed the centre."Do not detain those gentlemen here, count," she said; "they would prefer, I should think, to breathe in the garden rather than suffocate here, since they are not playing.""Ah," said a gallant old general, who, in 1809, had sung "Partant pour la Syrie," -- "we will not go alone to the garden.""Then," said Mercedes, "I will lead the way." Turning towards Monte Cristo, she added, "count, will you oblige me with your arm?" The count almost staggered at these simple words; then he fixed his eyes on Mercedes.It was only a momentary glance, but it seemed to the countess to have lasted for a century, so much was expressed in that one look.He offered his arm to the countess; she took it, or rather just touched it with her little hand, and they together descended the steps, lined with rhododendrons and camellias.Behind them, by another outlet, a group of about twenty persons rushed into the garden with loud exclamations of delight.
