The Count of Monte Cristo + The Three Musketeers + The Man in the Iron Mask (3 Unabridged Classics). Alexandre Dumas

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      “Agreed,” returned Albert; “but remember, Signor Pastrini, that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having tomorrow the costumes we have asked for.” The host again assured them they might rely on him, and that their wishes should be attended to; upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as he took off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch of violets; it was his token reserved for the morrow. The two friends sat down to table; but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo’s table and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count, to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini’s side. During dessert, the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at each other, fearing really to abuse the count’s kindness. The servant understood them. “His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had,” he said, “given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships’ orders all day, and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion.”

      They resolved to profit by the count’s courtesy, and ordered the horses to be harnessed, while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. This precaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installed themselves in the count’s box. During the first act, the Countess G—— entered. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening, so that she perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to Franz. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them, that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity; and, availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxes to hold receptions, the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, in his turn, sat behind.

      “Well,” said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, “it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are already the best friends in the world.”

      “Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess,” returned Franz, “I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day.”

      “All day?”

      “Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in his carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his box.”

      “You know him, then?”

      “Yes, and no.”

      “How so?”

      “It is a long story.”

      ‘Tell it to me.”

      “It would frighten you too much.”

      “So much the more reason.”

      “At least wait until the story has a conclusion.”

      “Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?”

      “No; it was he who introduced himself to us.”

      “When?”

      “Last night, after we left you.”

      “Through what medium?”

      “The very prosaic one of our landlord.”

      “He is staying, then, at the Hotel de Londres with you?”

      “Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor.”

      “What is his name — for, of course, you know?”

      “The Count of Monte Cristo.”

      “That is not a family name?”

      “No, it is the name of the island he has purchased.”

      “And he is a count?”

      “A Tuscan count.”

      “Well, we must put up with that,” said the countess, who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. “What sort of a man is he?”

      “Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf.”

      “You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you,” said the countess.

      “We should be very hard to please, madam,” returned Albert, “did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years’ standing could not have done more for us, or with a more perfect courtesy.”

      “Come,” observed the countess, smiling, “I see my vampire is only some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild; and you have seen her?”

      “Her?”

      “The beautiful Greek of yesterday.”

      “No; we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but she remained perfectly invisible.”

      “When you say invisible,” interrupted Albert, “it is only to keep up the mystery; for whom do you take the blue domino at the window with the white curtains?”

      “Where was this window with white hangings?” asked the countess.

      “At the Rospoli Palace.”

      “The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?”

      “Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?”

      “Yes.”

      “Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count’s windows.”

      “Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three windows were worth?”

      “Two or three hundred Roman crowns?”

      “Two or three thousand.”

      “The deuce.”

      “Does his island produce him such a revenue?”

      “It does not bring him a baiocco.”

      “Then why did he purchase it?”

      “For a whim.”

      “He is an original, then?”

      “In reality,” observed Albert, “he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony.” At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. This circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the conversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow; СКАЧАТЬ