Monte Cristo to ask my daughter's hand for you, I decidedly refused him,
but without any explanation or exposure. In short, why should I have
any more to do with the affair? How did the honor or disgrace of M. de
Morcerf affect me? It neither increased nor decreased my income."
Albert felt the blood mounting to his brow; there was no doubt upon the
subject. Danglars defended himself with the baseness, but at the same
time with the assurance, of a man who speaks the truth, at least
in part, if not wholly--not for conscience' sake, but through fear.
Besides, what was Morcerf seeking? It was not whether Danglars or Monte
Cristo was more or less guilty; it was a man who would answer for the
offence, whether trifling or serious; it was a man who would fight,
and it was evident Danglars would not fight. And, in addition to this,
everything forgotten or unperceived before presented itself now to
his recollection. Monte Cristo knew everything, as he had bought the
daughter of Ali Pasha; and, knowing everything, he had advised Danglars
to write to Yanina. The answer known, he had yielded to Albert's wish
to be introduced to Haidee, and allowed the conversation to turn on
the death of Ali, and had not opposed Haidee's recital (but having,
doubtless, warned the young girl, in the few Romaic words he spoke to
her, not to implicate Morcerf's father). Besides, had he not begged of
Morcerf not to mention his father's name before Haidee? Lastly, he had
taken Albert to Normandy when he knew the final blow was near. There
could be no doubt that all had been calculated and previously arranged;
Monte Cristo then was in league with his father's enemies. Albert took
Beauchamp aside, and communicated these ideas to him.
"You are right," said the latter; "M. Danglars has only been a secondary
agent in this sad affair, and it is of M. de Monte Cristo that you
must demand an explanation." Albert turned. "Sir," said he to Danglars,
"understand that I do not take a final leave of you; I must ascertain if
your insinuations are just, and am going now to inquire of the Count
of Monte Cristo." He bowed to the banker, and went out with Beauchamp,
without appearing to notice Cavalcanti. Danglars accompanied him to the
door, where he again assured Albert that no motive of personal hatred
had influenced him against the Count of Morcerf.
Chapter 88. The Insult.
At the banker's door Beauchamp stopped Morcerf. "Listen," said he;
"just now I told you it was of M. de Monte Cristo you must demand an
explanation."
"Yes; and we are going to his house."
"Reflect, Morcerf, one moment before you go."
"On what shall I reflect?"
"On the importance of the step you are taking."
"Is it more serious than going to M. Danglars?"
"Yes; M. Danglars is a money-lover, and those who love money, you know,
think too much of what they risk to be easily induced to fight a duel.
The other is, on the contrary, to all appearance a true nobleman; but do
you not fear to find him a bully?"
"I only fear one thing; namely, to find a man who will not fight."
"Do not be alarmed," said Beauchamp; "he will meet you. My only fear is
that he will be too strong for you."
"My friend," said Morcerf, with a sweet smile, "that is what I wish. The
happiest thing that could occur to me, would be to die in my father's
stead; that would save us all."
"Your mother would die of grief."
"My poor mother!" said Albert, passing his hand across his eyes, "I know
she would; but better so than die of shame."
"Are you quite decided, Albert?"
"Yes; let us go."
"But do you think we shall find the count at home?"
"He intended returning some hours after me, and doubtless he is now at
home." They ordered the driver to take them to No. 30 Champs-Elysees.
Beauchamp wished to go in alone, but Albert observed that as this was
an unusual circumstance he might be allowed to deviate from the usual
etiquette in affairs of honor. The cause which the young man espoused
was one so sacred that Beauchamp had only to comply with all his wishes;
he yielded and contented himself with following Morcerf. Albert sprang
from the porter's lodge to the steps. He was received by Baptistin.
The count had, indeed, just arrived, but he was in his bath, and had
forbidden that any one should be admitted. "But after his bath?" asked
Morcerf.
"My master will go to dinner."
"And after dinner?"
"He will sleep an hour."
"Then?"
"He is going to the opera."
"Are you sure of it?" asked Albert.
"Quite, sir; my master has ordered his horses at eight o'clock
precisely."
"Very good," replied Albert; "that is all I wished to know." Then,
turning towards Beauchamp, "If you have anything to attend to,
Beauchamp, do it directly; if you have any appointment for this evening,
defer it till tomorrow. I depend on you to accompany me to the opera;
and if you can, bring Chateau-Renaud with you."
Beauchamp availed himself of Albert's permission, and left him,
promising to call for him at a quarter before eight. On his return home,
Albert expressed his wish to Franz Debray, and Morrel, to see them at
the opera that evening. Then he went to see his mother, who since the
events of the day before had refused to see any one, and had kept
her room. He found her in bed, overwhelmed with grief at this public
humiliation. The sight of Albert produced the effect which might
naturally be expected on Mercedes; she pressed her son's hand and sobbed
aloud, but her tears relieved her. Albert stood one moment speechless by
the side of his mother's bed. It was evident from his pale face and knit
brows that his resolution to revenge himself was growing weaker. "My
dear mother," said he, "do you know if M. de Morcerf has any enemy?"
Mercedes started; she noticed that the young man did not say "my
father." "My son," she said, "persons in the count's situation have many
secret enemies. Those who are known are not the most dangerous."
"I know it, and appeal to your penetration. You are of so superior a
mind, nothing escapes you."
"Why do you say so?"
"Because, for instance, you noticed on the evening of the ball we gave,
that M. de Monte Cristo would eat nothing in our house." Mercedes raised
herself on her feverish arm. "M. de Monte Cristo!" she exclaimed; "and
how is he connected with the question you asked me?"
"You know, mother, M. de Monte Cristo is almost an Oriental, and it is
customary with the Orientals to secure full liberty for revenge by not
eating or drinking in the houses of their enemies."
"Do you say M. de Monte Cristo is our enemy?" replied Mercedes, becoming
paler than the sheet which covered her. "Who told you so? Why, you are
mad, Albert! M. de Monte Cristo has only shown us kindness. M. de Monte
Cristo saved your life; you yourself presented him to us. Oh, I entreat
you, my son, if you had entertained such an idea, dispel it; and my
counsel to you--nay, my prayer--is to retain his friendship."
"Mother," replied the young man, "you have especial reasons for telling
me to conciliate that man."
"I?" said Mercedes, blushing as rapidly as she had turned pale, and
again becoming paler than ever.
"Yes, doubtless; and is it not that he may never do us any harm?"
Mercedes shuddered, and, fixing on her son a scrutinizing gaze, "You
speak strangely," said she to Albert, "and you appear to have some
singular prejudices. What has the count done? Three days since you were
with him in Normandy; only three days since we looked on him as our best
friend."
An ironical smile passed over Albert's lips. Mercedes saw it and with
the double instinct of woman and mother guessed all; but as she was
prudent and strong-minded she concealed both her sorrows and her fears.
Albert was silent; an instant after, the countess resumed: "You came to
inquire after my health; I will candidly acknowledge that I am not well.
You should install yourself here, and cheer my solitude. I do not wish
to be left alone."
"Mother," said the young man, "you know how gladly I would obey your
wish, but an urgent and important affair obliges me to leave you for the
whole evening."
"Well," replied Mercedes, sighing, "go, Albert; I will not make you a
slave to your filial piety." Albert pretended he did not hear, bowed
to his mother, and quitted her. Scarcely had he shut her door, when
Mercedes called a confidential servant, and ordered him to follow Albert
wherever he should go that evening, and to come and tell her immediately
what he observed. Then she rang for her lady's maid, and, weak as she
was, she dressed, in order to be ready for whatever might happen. The
footman's mission was an easy one. Albert went to his room, and dressed
with unusual care. At ten minutes to eight Beauchamp arrived; he had
seen Chateau-Renaud, who had promised to be in the orchestra before the
curtain was raised. Both got into Albert's coupe; and, as the young man
had no reason to conceal where he was going, he called aloud, "To
the opera." In his impatience he arrived before the beginning of the
performance.
Chateau-Renaud was at his post; apprised by Beauchamp of the
circumstances, he required no explanation from Albert. The conduct
of the son in seeking to avenge his father was so natural that
Chateau-Renaud did not seek to dissuade him, and was content with
renewing his assurances of devotion. Debray was not yet come, but Albert
knew that he seldom lost a scene at the opera. Albert wandered about
the theatre until the curtain was drawn up. He hoped to meet with M. de
Monte Cristo either in the lobby or on the stairs. The bell summoned
him to his seat, and he entered the orchestra with Chateau-Renaud and
Beauchamp. But his eyes scarcely quitted the box between the columns,
which remained obstinately closed during the whole of the first act. At
last, as Albert was looking at his watch for about the hundredth time,
at the beginning of the second act the door opened, and Monte Cristo
entered, dressed in black, and, leaning over the front of the box,
looked around the pit. Morrel followed him, and looked also for his
sister and brother in-law; he soon discovered them in another box, and
kissed his hand to them.
The count, in his survey of the pit, encountered a pale face and
threatening eyes, which evidently sought to gain his attention. He
recognized Albert, but thought it better not to notice him, as he looked
so angry and discomposed. Without communicating his thoughts to his
companion, he sat down, drew out his opera-glass, and looked another
way. Although apparently not noticing Albert, he did not, however, lose
sight of him, and when the curtain fell at the end of the second act, he
saw him leave the orchestra with his two friends. Then his head was
seen passing at the back of the boxes, and the count knew that the
approaching storm was intended to fall on him. He was at the moment
conversing cheerfully with Morrel, but he was well prepared for what
might happen. The door opened, and Monte Cristo, turning round, saw
Albert, pale and trembling, followed by Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud.
"Well," cried he, with that benevolent politeness which distinguished
his salutation from the common civilities of the world, "my cavalier has
attained his object. Good-evening, M. de Morcerf." The countenance of
this man, who possessed such extraordinary control over his feelings,
expressed the most perfect cordiality. Morrel only then recollected the
letter he had received from the viscount, in which, without assigning
any reason, he begged him to go to the opera, but he understood that
something terrible was brooding.
"We are not come here, sir, to exchange hypocritical expressions of
politeness, or false professions of friendship," said Albert, "but to
demand an explanation." The young man's trembling voice was scarcely
audible. "An explanation at the opera?" said the count, with that calm
tone and penetrating eye which characterize the man who knows his cause
is good. "Little acquainted as I am with the habits of Parisians, I
should not have thought this the place for such a demand."
"Still, if people will shut themselves up," said Albert, "and cannot
be seen because they are bathing, dining, or asleep, we must avail
ourselves of the opportunity whenever they are to be seen."
"I am not difficult of access, sir; for yesterday, if my memory does not
deceive me, you were at my house."
"Yesterday I was at your house, sir," said the young man; "because then
I knew not who you were." In pronouncing these words Albert had raised
his voice so as to be heard by those in the adjoining boxes and in the
lobby. Thus the attention of many was attracted by this altercation.
"Where are you come from, sir? You do not appear to be in the possession
of your senses."
"Provided I understand your perfidy, sir, and succeed in making you
understand that I will be revenged, I shall be reasonable enough," said
Albert furiously.
"I do not understand you, sir," replied Monte Cristo; "and if I did,
your tone is too high. I am at home here, and I alone have a right
to raise my voice above another's. Leave the box, sir!" Monte Cristo
pointed towards the door with the most commanding dignity. "Ah, I shall
know how to make you leave your home!" replied Albert, clasping in his
convulsed grasp the glove, which Monte Cristo did not lose sight of.
