the garden, built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture, was
the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf.
A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel, surmounted at intervals
by vases filled with flowers, and broken in the centre by a large gate
of gilded iron, which served as the carriage entrance. A small door,
close to the lodge of the concierge, gave ingress and egress to the
servants and masters when they were on foot.
It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother, unwilling to
part from her son, and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age
required the full exercise of his liberty, had chosen this habitation
for Albert. There were not lacking, however, evidences of what we may
call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent,
careless life of an only son, and who lives as it were in a gilded cage.
By means of the two windows looking into the street, Albert could see
all that passed; the sight of what is going on is necessary to young
men, who always want to see the world traverse their horizon, even if
that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. Then, should anything appear
to merit a more minute examination, Albert de Morcerf could follow up
his researches by means of a small gate, similar to that close to the
concierge's door, and which merits a particular description. It was a
little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house
was built, so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt; but the
well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. This door was a
mockery to the concierge, from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was
free, and, like that famous portal in the "Arabian Nights," opening at
the "Sesame" of Ali Baba, it was wont to swing backward at a cabalistic
word or a concerted tap from without from the sweetest voices or whitest
fingers in the world. At the end of a long corridor, with which the
door communicated, and which formed the ante-chamber, was, on the right,
Albert's breakfast-room, looking into the court, and on the left the
salon, looking into the garden. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the
windows, and hid from the garden and court these two apartments, the
only rooms into which, as they were on the ground-floor, the prying eyes
of the curious could penetrate. On the floor above were similar rooms,
with the addition of a third, formed out of the ante-chamber;
these three rooms were a salon, a boudoir, and a bedroom. The salon
down-stairs was only an Algerian divan, for the use of smokers. The
boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door
on the staircase; it was evident that every precaution had been taken.
Above this floor was a large atelier, which had been increased in size
by pulling down the partitions--a pandemonium, in which the artist and
the dandy strove for preeminence. There were collected and piled up all
Albert's successive caprices, hunting-horns, bass-viols, flutes--a whole
orchestra, for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music; easels,
palettes, brushes, pencils--for music had been succeeded by painting;
foils, boxing-gloves, broadswords, and single-sticks--for, following
the example of the fashionable young men of the time, Albert de Morcerf
cultivated, with far more perseverance than music and drawing, the
three arts that complete a dandy's education, i.e., fencing, boxing,
and single-stick; and it was here that he received Grisier, Cook,
and Charles Leboucher. The rest of the furniture of this privileged
apartment consisted of old cabinets, filled with Chinese porcelain and
Japanese vases, Lucca della Robbia faience, and Palissy platters; of old
arm-chairs, in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. or Sully, Louis XIII. or
Richelieu--for two of these arm-chairs, adorned with a carved shield,
on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field
evidently came from the Louvre, or, at least, some royal residence. Over
these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs, dyed beneath
Persia's sun, or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of
Chandernagor. What these stuffs did there, it was impossible to say;
they awaited, while gratifying the eyes, a destination unknown to their
owner himself; in the meantime they filled the place with their golden
and silky reflections. In the centre of the room was a Roller and
Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood, but holding the potentialities
of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity, and groaning beneath
the weight of the chefs-d'oeuvre of Beethoven, Weber, Mozart, Haydn,
Gretry, and Porpora. On the walls, over the doors, on the ceiling, were
swords, daggers, Malay creeses, maces, battle-axes; gilded, damasked,
and inlaid suits of armor; dried plants, minerals, and stuffed birds,
their flame-colored wings outspread in motionless flight, and their
beaks forever open. This was Albert's favorite lounging place.
However, the morning of the appointment, the young man had established
himself in the small salon down-stairs. There, on a table, surrounded at
some distance by a large and luxurious divan, every species of tobacco
known,--from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai,
and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto-Rico, to Latakia,--was
exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond;
beside them, in boxes of fragrant wood, were ranged, according to their
size and quality, pueros, regalias, havanas, and manillas; and, in an
open cabinet, a collection of German pipes, of chibouques, with their
amber mouth-pieces ornamented with coral, and of narghiles, with their
long tubes of morocco, awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the
smokers. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement, or, rather, the
symmetrical derangement, which, after coffee, the guests at a breakfast
of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from
their mouths, and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling.
At a quarter to ten, a valet entered; he composed, with a little groom
named John, and who only spoke English, all Albert's establishment,
although the cook of the hotel was always at his service, and on great
occasions the count's chasseur also. This valet, whose name was Germain,
and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master, held in one
hand a number of papers, and in the other a packet of letters, which
he gave to Albert. Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives,
selected two written in a small and delicate hand, and enclosed in
scented envelopes, opened them and perused their contents with some
attention. "How did these letters come?" said he.
"One by the post, Madame Danglars' footman left the other."
"Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her
box. Wait; then, during the day, tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera
I will sup with her as she wishes. Take her six bottles of different
wine--Cyprus, sherry, and Malaga, and a barrel of Ostend oysters; get
them at Borel's, and be sure you say they are for me."
"At what o'clock, sir, do you breakfast?"
"What time is it now?"
"A quarter to ten."
"Very well, at half past ten. Debray will, perhaps, be obliged to go to
the minister--and besides" (Albert looked at his tablets), "it is the
hour I told the count, 21st May, at half past ten; and though I do not
much rely upon his promise, I wish to be punctual. Is the countess up
yet?"
"If you wish, I will inquire."
"Yes, ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets, mine is incomplete; and
tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock, and
that I request permission to introduce some one to her." The valet left
the room. Albert threw himself on the divan, tore off the cover of two
or three of the papers, looked at the theatre announcements, made a face
seeing they gave an opera, and not a ballet; hunted vainly amongst the
advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard, and threw
down, one after the other, the three leading papers of Paris, muttering,
"These papers become more and more stupid every day." A moment after,
a carriage stopped before the door, and the servant announced M. Lucien
Debray. A tall young man, with light hair, clear gray eyes, and thin
and compressed lips, dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold
buttons, a white neckcloth, and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a
silken thread, and which, by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic
muscles, he fixed in his eye, entered, with a half-official air, without
smiling or speaking. "Good-morning, Lucien, good-morning," said Albert;
"your punctuality really alarms me. What do I say? punctuality! You,
whom I expected last, you arrive at five minutes to ten, when the time
fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?"
"No, my dear fellow," returned the young man, seating himself on the
divan; "reassure yourself; we are tottering always, but we never fall,
and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility,
and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us."
"Ah, true; you drive Don Carlos out of Spain."
"No, no, my dear fellow, do not confound our plans. We take him to
the other side of the French frontier, and offer him hospitality at
Bourges."
"At Bourges?"
"Yes, he has not much to complain of; Bourges is the capital of Charles
VII. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday, and the day
before it had already transpired on the Bourse, and M. Danglars (I do
not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon
as we do) made a million!"
"And you another order, for I see you have a blue ribbon at your
button-hole."
"Yes; they sent me the order of Charles III.," returned Debray,
carelessly.
"Come, do not affect indifference, but confess you were pleased to have
it."
"Oh, it is very well as a finish to the toilet. It looks very neat on a
black coat buttoned up."
"And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt."
"It is for that reason you see me so early."
"Because you have the order of Charles III., and you wish to announce
the good news to me?"
"No, because I passed the night writing letters,--five and twenty
despatches. I returned home at daybreak, and strove to sleep; but my
head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. At the Bois de
Boulogne, ennui and hunger attacked me at once,--two enemies who rarely
accompany each other, and who are yet leagued against me, a sort of
Carlo-republican alliance. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this
morning, and here I am. I am hungry, feed me; I am bored, amuse me."
"It is my duty as your host," returned Albert, ringing the bell, while
Lucien turned over, with his gold-mounted cane, the papers that lay on
the table. "Germain, a glass of sherry and a biscuit. In the meantime,
my dear Lucien, here are cigars--contraband, of course--try them, and
persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with
cabbage leaves."
"Peste, I will do nothing of the kind; the moment they come from
government you would find them execrable. Besides, that does not concern
the home but the financial department. Address yourself to M. Humann,
section of the indirect contributions, corridor A., No. 26."
"On my word," said Albert, "you astonish me by the extent of your
knowledge. Take a cigar."
"Really, my dear Albert," replied Lucien, lighting a manilla at a
rose-colored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand--"how
happy you are to have nothing to do. You do not know your own good
fortune!"
"And what would you do, my dear diplomatist," replied Morcerf, with a
slight degree of irony in his voice, "if you did nothing? What? private
secretary to a minister, plunged at once into European cabals and
Parisian intrigues; having kings, and, better still, queens, to protect,
parties to unite, elections to direct; making more use of your cabinet
with your pen and your telegraph than Napoleon did of his battle-fields
with his sword and his victories; possessing five and twenty thousand
francs a year, besides your place; a horse, for which Chateau-Renaud
offered you four hundred louis, and which you would not part with; a
tailor who never disappoints you; with the opera, the jockey-club, and
other diversions, can you not amuse yourself? Well, I will amuse you."
"How?"
"By introducing to you a new acquaintance."
"A man or a woman?"
"A man."
"I know so many men already."
"But you do not know this man."
"Where does he come from--the end of the world?"
"Farther still, perhaps."
"The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him."
"Oh, no; our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. Are you hungry?"
"Humiliating as such a confession is, I am. But I dined at M. de
Villefort's, and lawyers always give you very bad dinners. You would
think they felt some remorse; did you ever remark that?"
"Ah, depreciate other persons' dinners; you ministers give such splendid
ones."
"Yes; but we do not invite people of fashion. If we were not forced to
entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with
us, we should never dream of dining at home, I assure you."
"Well, take another glass of sherry and another biscuit."
"Willingly. Your Spanish wine is excellent. You see we were quite right
to pacify that country."
"Yes; but Don Carlos?"
"Well, Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux, and in ten years we will marry
