The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (best book club books .TXT) 📕

is himself the Adelmonte he talks about.”

As to Monte Cristo the result had surpassed his utmost expectations.

“Good,” said he, as he went away; “this is a fruitful soil, and I feel certain that the seed sown will not be cast on barren ground.”

Next morning, faithful to his promise, he sent the prescription requested.

LIII Robert le Diable

The pretext of an opera engagement was so much the more feasible, as there chanced to be on that very night a more than ordinary attraction at the Académie Royale. Levasseur, who had been suffering under severe illness, made his reappearance in the character of Bertram, and, as usual, the announcement of the most admired production of the favorite composer of the day had attracted a brilliant and fashionable audience. Morcerf, like most other young men of rank and fortune, had his orchestra stall, with the certainty of always finding a seat in at least a dozen of the principal boxes occupied by persons of his acquaintance; he had, moreover, his right of entry into the omnibus box. Château-Renaud rented a stall beside his own, while Beauchamp, as a journalist, had unlimited range all over the theatre. It happened that on this particular night the minister’s box was placed at the disposal of Lucien Debray, who offered it to the Comte de Morcerf, who again, upon his rejection of it by Mercédès, sent it to Danglars, with an intimation that he should probably do himself the honor of joining the baroness and her daughter during the evening, in the event of their accepting the box in question. The ladies received the offer with too much pleasure to dream of a refusal. To no class of persons is the presentation of a gratuitous opera-box more acceptable than to the wealthy millionaire, who still hugs economy while boasting of carrying a king’s ransom in his waistcoat pocket.

Danglars had, however, protested against showing himself in a ministerial box, declaring that his political principles, and his parliamentary position as member of the opposition party would not permit him so to commit himself; the baroness had, therefore, despatched a note to Lucien Debray, bidding him call for them, it being wholly impossible for her to go alone with Eugénie to the opera.

There is no gainsaying the fact that a very unfavorable construction would have been put upon the circumstance if the two women had gone without escort, while the addition of a third, in the person of her mother’s admitted lover, enabled Mademoiselle Danglars to defy malice and ill-nature. One must take the world as one finds it.

The curtain rose, as usual, to an almost empty house, it being one of the absurdities of Parisian fashion never to appear at the opera until after the beginning of the performance, so that the first act is generally played without the slightest attention being paid to it, that part of the audience already assembled being too much occupied in observing the fresh arrivals, while nothing is heard but the noise of opening and shutting doors, and the buzz of conversation.

“Surely,” said Albert, as the door of a box on the first circle opened, “that must be the Countess G⁠⸺.”

“And who is the Countess G⁠⸺?” inquired Château-Renaud.

“What a question! Now, do you know, baron, I have a great mind to pick a quarrel with you for asking it; as if all the world did not know who the Countess G⁠⸺ was.”

“Ah, to be sure,” replied Château-Renaud; “the lovely Venetian, is it not?”

“Herself.” At this moment the countess perceived Albert, and returned his salutation with a smile.

“You know her, it seems?” said Château-Renaud.

“Franz introduced me to her at Rome,” replied Albert.

“Well, then, will you do as much for me in Paris as Franz did for you in Rome?”

“With pleasure.”

There was a cry of “Shut up!” from the audience. This manifestation on the part of the spectators of their wish to be allowed to hear the music, produced not the slightest effect on the two young men, who continued their conversation.

“The countess was present at the races in the Champ-de-Mars,” said Château-Renaud.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“Bless me, I quite forgot the races. Did you bet?”

“Oh, merely a paltry fifty louis.”

“And who was the winner?”

“Nautilus. I staked on him.”

“But there were three races, were there not?”

“Yes; there was the prize given by the Jockey Club⁠—a gold cup, you know⁠—and a very singular circumstance occurred about that race.”

“What was it?”

“Oh, shut up!” again interposed some of the audience.

“Why, it was won by a horse and rider utterly unknown on the course.”

“Is that possible?”

“True as day. The fact was, nobody had observed a horse entered by the name of Vampa, or that of a jockey styled Job, when, at the last moment, a splendid roan, mounted by a jockey about as big as your fist, presented themselves at the starting-post. They were obliged to stuff at least twenty pounds weight of shot in the small rider’s pockets, to make him weight; but with all that he outstripped Ariel and Barbare, against whom he ran, by at least three whole lengths.”

“And was it not found out at last to whom the horse and jockey belonged?”

“No.”

“You say that the horse was entered under the name of Vampa?”

“Exactly; that was the title.”

“Then,” answered Albert, “I am better informed than you are, and know who the owner of that horse was.”

“Shut up, there!” cried the pit in chorus. And this time the tone and manner in which the command was given, betokened such growing hostility that the two young men perceived, for the first time, that the mandate was addressed to them. Leisurely turning round, they calmly scrutinized the various countenances around them, as though demanding some one person who would take upon himself the responsibility of what they deemed excessive impertinence; but as no one responded to the challenge, the friends turned again to the front of the theatre, and affected to busy themselves with the stage. At this moment the door of the minister’s box opened, and Madame