chase-loving Diana continually surrounded by her nymphs gives me a sort
of alarm lest she should some day bring on me the fate of Actaeon."
And, indeed, it required but one glance at Mademoiselle Danglars to
comprehend the justness of Morcerf's remark--she was beautiful, but her
beauty was of too marked and decided a character to please a fastidious
taste; her hair was raven black, but its natural waves seemed somewhat
rebellious; her eyes, of the same color as her hair, were surmounted by
well-arched brows, whose great defect, however, consisted in an almost
habitual frown, while her whole physiognomy wore that expression
of firmness and decision so little in accordance with the gentler
attributes of her sex--her nose was precisely what a sculptor would
have chosen for a chiselled Juno. Her mouth, which might have been found
fault with as too large, displayed teeth of pearly whiteness, rendered
still more conspicuous by the brilliant carmine of her lips, contrasting
vividly with her naturally pale complexion. But that which completed the
almost masculine look Morcerf found so little to his taste, was a dark
mole, of much larger dimensions than these freaks of nature generally
are, placed just at the corner of her mouth; and the effect tended
to increase the expression of self-dependence that characterized her
countenance. The rest of Mademoiselle Eugenie's person was in perfect
keeping with the head just described; she, indeed, reminded one of
Diana, as Chateau-Renaud observed, but her bearing was more haughty and
resolute. As regarded her attainments, the only fault to be found with
them was the same that a fastidious connoisseur might have found with
her beauty, that they were somewhat too erudite and masculine for so
young a person. 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, following it with an indefatigable perseverance,
assisted by a schoolfellow,--a young woman without fortune whose talent
promised to develop into remarkable powers as a 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
and independence. But this counsel effectually decided Mademoiselle
Danglars never to commit herself by being seen in public with one
destined for a theatrical life; and acting upon this principle, the
banker's daughter, though perfectly willing to allow Mademoiselle Louise
d'Armilly (that was the name of the young virtuosa) to practice with
her through the day, took especial care not to be seen in her company.
Still, though not actually received at the Hotel Danglars in the light
of an acknowledged friend, Louise was treated with far more kindness and
consideration than is usually bestowed on a governess.
The curtain fell almost immediately after the entrance of Madame
Danglars into her box, the band quitted the orchestra for the accustomed
half-hour's interval allowed between the acts, and the audience were
left at liberty to promenade the salon or lobbies, or to pay and receive
visits in their respective boxes. Morcerf and Chateau-Renaud were
amongst the first to avail themselves of this permission. For an instant
the idea struck Madame Danglars that this eagerness 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, however, merely returned
a dissenting movement of the head, while, with a cold smile, she
directed the attention of her mother to an opposite box on the first
circle, in which sat the Countess G----, and where Morcerf had just made
his appearance. "So we meet again, my travelling 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 before this. Allow me to introduce my friend, Baron de
Chateau-Renaud, one of the few true gentlemen now to be found in France,
and from whom I have just learned that you were a spectator of the races
in the Champ-de-Mars, yesterday." Chateau-Renaud bowed to the countess.
"So you were at the races, baron?" inquired the countess eagerly.
"Yes, madame."
"Well, then," pursued Madame G---- with considerable animation, "you can
probably tell me who won the Jockey Club stakes?"
"I am sorry to say I cannot," replied the baron; "and I was just asking
the same question of Albert."
"Are you very anxious to know, countess?" asked Albert.
"To know what?"
"The name of the owner of the winning horse?"
"Excessively; only imagine--but do tell me, viscount, 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? You said, 'only imagine,'--and then paused. Pray
continue."
"Well, then, listen. You must know I felt so interested in 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, the first object
I met on the staircase was the identical jockey in the pink jacket! I
concluded that, by some singular chance, the owner of the winning horse
must live in the same hotel as myself; but, 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 Argentino!"
"Is it possible?" exclaimed the countess; "is he here in Paris?"
"To be sure,--why not?"
"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 why are you so sure of his being the winner of the Jockey Club
prize?"
"Was not 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?"
"Oh, yes."
"And from whose hands the count extricated me in so wonderful a manner?"
"To be sure, I remember it all now."
"He called himself Vampa. You see, it's evident where the count got the
name."
"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 countrywoman
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 action appear like that of an enemy?"
"No; certainly not."
"Well, then"--
"And so he is in Paris?"
"Yes."
"And what effect does he produce?"
"Why," said Albert, "he was talked about for a week; then the
coronation of the queen of England took place, followed by the theft of
Mademoiselle Mars's diamonds; and so people talked of something else."
"My good fellow," said Chateau-Renaud, "the count is your friend and
you treat him accordingly. Do not believe what Albert is telling you,
countess; so far from the sensation excited in the Parisian circles by
the appearance of the Count of Monte Cristo having abated, I take upon
myself to declare that it is as strong as ever. His first astounding
act upon coming amongst us was to present a pair of horses, worth
32,000 francs, to Madame Danglars; his second, the almost miraculous
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 spite of Morcerf, that not only is the count the object of interest
at this present moment, but also that he will continue to be so for a
month longer if he pleases to exhibit an eccentricity of conduct which,
after all, may be his ordinary mode of existence."
"Perhaps you are right," said Morcerf; "meanwhile, who is in the Russian
ambassador's box?"
"Which box do you mean?" asked the countess.
"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?" asked Chateau-Renaud.
"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 really believe it was your mysterious Count of Monte
Cristo that gained the prize?"
"I am sure of it."
"And who afterwards sent the cup to me?"
"Undoubtedly."
"But I don't know him," said the countess; "I have a great mind to
return it."
"Do no such thing, I beg of you; he would only send you another, formed
of a magnificent sapphire, or hollowed out of a gigantic ruby. It is
his way, 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. "At the end of the next act, with your permission, I will come
and inquire whether there is anything I can do for 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. So now, you are both forewarned." 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 towards
the box formerly possessed by the Russian ambassador. A man of from
thirty-five to forty years of age, dressed in deep black, had just
entered, accompanied by a young woman dressed after the Eastern style.
The lady was surpassingly beautiful, while the rich magnificence of her
attire drew all eyes upon her. "Hullo," said Albert; "it is Monte Cristo
and his Greek!"
The strangers were, indeed, no other than the count and Haidee. In a few
moments the young girl had attracted the attention of the whole house,
and even the occupants of the boxes leaned forward to scrutinize her
magnificent diamonds. The second act passed away during one continued
buzz of voices--one deep whisper--intimating that some great and
universally interesting event had occurred; all eyes, all thoughts, were
occupied with the young and beautiful woman, whose gorgeous apparel and
splendid jewels made a most extraordinary spectacle. Upon this occasion
an unmistakable sign from Madame Danglars intimated her desire to see
Albert in her box directly the curtain fell on the second act, and
neither the politeness nor good taste of Morcerf would permit his
neglecting an invitation so unequivocally given. At the close of the act
he therefore went to the baroness. 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 come in the nick of time.
There is madame overwhelming me with questions respecting the count; she
insists upon it that I can tell her his birth, education, and parentage,
where he came from, and whither he is going. Being no disciple of
Cagliostro, I was wholly unable to do this; so, by way of getting out
of the scrape, I said, 'Ask Morcerf; he has got the whole history of
his beloved Monte Cristo at his fingers' ends;' whereupon the baroness
signified her desire to see you."
"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
troubling myself to obtain 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 as may be most agreeable to you; for my own part, I
care nothing about the count or his mysterious doings."
"I am very sure no nabob would have sent me a pair of horses worth
32,000 francs, wearing on their heads four diamonds valued at 5,000
francs each."
"He seems to have a mania for diamonds," said Morcerf, smiling, "and I
