Her white and slender fingers, her pearly neck, her cheeks tinted with
varying hues reminded one of the lovely Englishwomen who have been so
poetically compared in their manner to the gracefulness of a swan. She
entered the apartment, and seeing near her stepmother the stranger of
whom she had already heard so much, saluted him without any girlish
awkwardness, or even lowering her eyes, and with an elegance that
redoubled the count's attention. He rose to return the salutation.
"Mademoiselle de Villefort, my daughter-in-law," said Madame de
Villefort to Monte Cristo, leaning back on her sofa and motioning
towards Valentine with her hand. "And M. de Monte Cristo, King of China,
Emperor of Cochin-China," said the young imp, looking slyly towards his
sister.
Madame de Villefort at this really did turn pale, and was very nearly
angry with this household plague, who answered to the name of Edward;
but the count, on the contrary, smiled, and appeared to look at the boy
complacently, which caused the maternal heart to bound again with joy
and enthusiasm.
"But, madame," replied the count, continuing the conversation, and
looking by turns at Madame de Villefort and Valentine, "have I not
already had the honor of meeting yourself and mademoiselle before? I
could not help thinking so just now; the idea came over my mind, and
as mademoiselle entered the sight of her was an additional ray of light
thrown on a confused remembrance; excuse the remark."
"I do not think it likely, sir; Mademoiselle de Villefort is not very
fond of society, and we very seldom go out," said the young lady.
"Then it was not in society that I met with mademoiselle or yourself,
madame, or this charming little merry boy. Besides, the Parisian world
is entirely unknown to me, for, as I believe I told you, I have been in
Paris but very few days. No,--but, perhaps, you will permit me to call
to mind--stay!" The Count placed his hand on his brow as if to collect
his thoughts. "No--it was somewhere--away from here--it was--I do not
know--but it appears that this recollection is connected with a lovely
sky and some religious fete; mademoiselle was holding flowers in her
hand, the interesting boy was chasing a beautiful peacock in a garden,
and you, madame, were under the trellis of some arbor. Pray come to my
aid, madame; do not these circumstances appeal to your memory?"
"No, indeed," replied Madame de Villefort; "and yet it appears to me,
sir, that if I had met you anywhere, the recollection of you must have
been imprinted on my memory."
"Perhaps the count saw us in Italy," said Valentine timidly.
"Yes, in Italy; it was in Italy most probably," replied Monte Cristo;
"you have travelled then in Italy, mademoiselle?"
"Yes; madame and I were there two years ago. The doctors, anxious for
my lungs, had prescribed the air of Naples. We went by Bologna, Perugia,
and Rome."
"Ah, yes--true, mademoiselle," exclaimed Monte Cristo as if this simple
explanation was sufficient to revive the recollection he sought. "It was
at Perugia on Corpus Christi Day, in the garden of the Hotel des Postes,
when chance brought us together; you, Madame de Villefort, and her son;
I now remember having had the honor of meeting you."
"I perfectly well remember Perugia, sir, and the Hotel des Postes, and
the festival of which you speak," said Madame de Villefort, "but in vain
do I tax my memory, of whose treachery I am ashamed, for I really do not
recall to mind that I ever had the pleasure of seeing you before."
"It is strange, but neither do I recollect meeting with you," observed
Valentine, raising her beautiful eyes to the count.
"But I remember it perfectly," interposed the darling Edward.
"I will assist your memory, madame," continued the count; "the day had
been burning hot; you were waiting for horses, which were delayed in
consequence of the festival. Mademoiselle was walking in the shade of
the garden, and your son disappeared in pursuit of the peacock."
"And I caught it, mamma, don't you remember?" interposed Edward, "and I
pulled three such beautiful feathers out of his tail."
"You, madame, remained under the arbor; do you not remember, that while
you were seated on a stone bench, and while, as I told you, Mademoiselle
de Villefort and your young son were absent, you conversed for a
considerable time with somebody?"
"Yes, in truth, yes," answered the young lady, turning very red, "I do
remember conversing with a person wrapped in a long woollen mantle; he
was a medical man, I think."
"Precisely so, madame; this man was myself; for a fortnight I had been
at that hotel, during which period I had cured my valet de chambre of
a fever, and my landlord of the jaundice, so that I really acquired a
reputation as a skilful physician. We discoursed a long time, madame, on
different subjects; of Perugino, of Raffaelle, of manners, customs, of
the famous aquatofana, of which they had told you, I think you said,
that certain individuals in Perugia had preserved the secret."
"Yes, true," replied Madame de Villefort, somewhat uneasily, "I remember
now."
"I do not recollect now all the various subjects of which we discoursed,
madame," continued the count with perfect calmness; "but I perfectly
remember that, falling into the error which others had entertained
respecting me, you consulted me as to the health of Mademoiselle de
Villefort."
"Yes, really, sir, you were in fact a medical man," said Madame de
Villefort, "since you had cured the sick."
"Moliere or Beaumarchais would reply to you, madame, that it was
precisely because I was not, that I had cured my patients; for myself,
I am content to say to you that I have studied chemistry and the
natural sciences somewhat deeply, but still only as an amateur, you
understand."--At this moment the clock struck six. "It is six o'clock,"
said Madame de Villefort, evidently agitated. "Valentine, will you not
go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?" Valentine rose, and
saluting the count, left the apartment without speaking.
"Oh, madame," said the count, when Valentine had left the room, "was it
on my account that you sent Mademoiselle de Villefort away?"
"By no means," replied the young lady quickly; "but this is the hour
when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome meal that sustains his
pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, of the deplorable condition of my
husband's father?"
"Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me--a paralysis, I think."
"Alas, yes; the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless; the mind alone
is still active in this human machine, and that is faint and flickering,
like the light of a lamp about to expire. But excuse me, sir, for
talking of our domestic misfortunes; I interrupted you at the moment
when you were telling me that you were a skilful chemist."
"No, madame, I did not say as much as that," replied the count with a
smile; "quite the contrary. I have studied chemistry because, having
determined to live in eastern climates I have been desirous of following
the example of King Mithridates."
"Mithridates rex Ponticus," said the young scamp, as he tore some
beautiful portraits out of a splendid album, "the individual who took
cream in his cup of poison every morning at breakfast."
"Edward, you naughty boy," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, snatching
the mutilated book from the urchin's grasp, "you are positively past
bearing; you really disturb the conversation; go, leave us, and join
your sister Valentine in dear grandpapa Noirtier's room."
"The album," said Edward sulkily.
"What do you mean?--the album!"
"I want the album."
"How dare you tear out the drawings?"
"Oh, it amuses me."
"Go--go at once."
"I won't go unless you give me the album," said the boy, seating himself
doggedly in an arm-chair, according to his habit of never giving way.
"Take it, then, and pray disturb us no longer," said Madame de
Villefort, giving the album to Edward, who then went towards the door,
led by his mother. The count followed her with his eyes.
"Let us see if she shuts the door after him," he muttered. Madame de
Villefort closed the door carefully after the child, the count appearing
not to notice her; then casting a scrutinizing glance around the
chamber, the young wife returned to her chair, in which she seated
herself. "Allow me to observe, madame," said the count, with that kind
tone he could assume so well, "you are really very severe with that dear
clever child."
"Oh, sometimes severity is quite necessary," replied Madame de
Villefort, with all a mother's real firmness.
"It was his Cornelius Nepos that Master Edward was repeating when he
referred to King Mithridates," continued the count, "and you interrupted
him in a quotation which proves that his tutor has by no means neglected
him, for your son is really advanced for his years."
"The fact is, count," answered the mother, agreeably flattered, "he has
great aptitude, and learns all that is set before him. He has but one
fault, he is somewhat wilful; but really, on referring for the moment
to what he said, do you truly believe that Mithridates used these
precautions, and that these precautions were efficacious?"
"I think so, madame, because I myself have made use of them, that I
might not be poisoned at Naples, at Palermo, and at Smyrna--that is to
say, on three several occasions when, but for these precautions, I must
have lost my life."
"And your precautions were successful?"
"Completely so."
"Yes, I remember now your mentioning to me at Perugia something of this
sort."
"Indeed?" said the count with an air of surprise, remarkably well
counterfeited; "I really did not remember."
"I inquired of you if poisons acted equally, and with the same effect,
on men of the North as on men of the South; and you answered me that the
cold and sluggish habits of the North did not present the same aptitude
as the rich and energetic temperaments of the natives of the South."
"And that is the case," observed Monte Cristo. "I have seen Russians
devour, without being visibly inconvenienced, vegetable substances which
would infallibly have killed a Neapolitan or an Arab."
"And you really believe the result would be still more sure with us
than in the East, and in the midst of our fogs and rains a man
would habituate himself more easily than in a warm latitude to this
progressive absorption of poison?"
"Certainly; it being at the same time perfectly understood that he
should have been duly fortified against the poison to which he had not
been accustomed."
"Yes, I understand that; and how would you habituate yourself, for
instance, or rather, how did you habituate yourself to it?"
"Oh, very easily. Suppose you knew beforehand the poison that would
be made use of against you; suppose the poison was, for instance,
brucine"--
"Brucine is extracted from the false angostura [*] is it not?" inquired
Madame de Villefort.
"Precisely, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "but I perceive I have not
much to teach you. Allow me to compliment you on your knowledge; such
learning is very rare among ladies."
* Brucoea ferruginea.
"Oh, I am aware of that," said Madame de Villefort; "but I have a
passion for the occult sciences, which speak to the imagination like
poetry, and are reducible to figures, like an algebraic equation; but go
on, I beg of you; what you say interests me to the greatest degree."
"Well," replied Monte Cristo "suppose, then, that this poison was
brucine, and you were to take a milligramme the first day, two
milligrammes the second day, and so on. Well, at the end of ten days you
would have taken a centigramme, at the end of twenty days, increasing
another milligramme, you would have taken three hundred centigrammes;
that is to say, a dose which you would support without inconvenience,
and which would be very dangerous for any other person who had not taken
the same precautions as yourself. Well, then, at the end of a month,
when drinking water from the same carafe, you would kill the person
who drank with you, without your perceiving, otherwise than from slight
inconvenience, that there was any poisonous substance mingled with this
water."
"Do you know any other counter-poisons?"
"I do not."
"I have often read, and read again, the history of Mithridates," said
Madame de Villefort in a tone of reflection, "and had always considered
it a fable."
"No, madame, contrary to most history, it is true; but what you tell me,
madame, what you inquire of me, is not the result of a chance query, for
two years ago you asked me the same questions, and said then, that for a
very long time this history of Mithridates had occupied your mind."
"True, sir. The two favorite studies of my youth were botany and
mineralogy, and subsequently, when I learned that the use of simples
frequently explained the whole history of a people, and the entire life
of individuals in the East, as flowers betoken and symbolize a love
affair, I have regretted that I was not a man, that I might have been a
Flamel, a Fontana, or a Cabanis."
"And the more, madame," said Monte Cristo, "as the Orientals do not
confine themselves, as did Mithridates, to make a cuirass of his
poisons, but they also made them a dagger. Science becomes, in their
