the countess, who inclined herself without speaking. "Ah, good
heavens, madame," said the count, "are you ill, or is it the heat
of the room that affects you?"
"Are you ill, mother?" cried the viscount, springing towards
her.
She thanked them both with a smile. "No," returned she, "but I
feel some emotion on seeing, for the first time, the man without
whose intervention we should have been in tears and desolation.
Monsieur," continued the countess, advancing with the majesty of a
queen, "I owe to you the life of my son, and for this I bless you.
Now, I thank you for the pleasure you give me in thus affording me
the opportunity of thanking you as I have blessed you, from the
bottom of my heart." The count bowed again, but lower than before;
He was even paler than Mercedes. "Madame," said he, "the count and
yourself recompense too generously a simple action. To save a man,
to spare a father's feelings, or a mother's sensibility, is not to
do a good action, but a simple deed of humanity." At these words,
uttered with the most exquisite sweetness and politeness, Madame de
Morcerf replied. "It is very fortunate for my son, monsieur, that
he found such a friend, and I thank God that things are thus." And
Mercedes raised her fine eyes to heaven with so fervent an
expression of gratitude, that the count fancied he saw tears in
them. M. de Morcerf approached her. "Madame," said he. "I have
already made my excuses to the count for quitting him, and I pray
you to do so also. The sitting commences at two; it is now three,
and I am to speak."
"Go, then, and monsieur and I will strive our best to forget
your absence," replied the countess, with the same tone of deep
feeling. "Monsieur," continued she, turning to Monte Cristo, "will
you do us the honor of passing the rest of the day with us?"
"Believe me, madame, I feel most grateful for your kindness, but
I got out of my travelling carriage at your door this morning, and
I am ignorant how I am installed in Paris, which I scarcely know;I am ignorant how I am installed in Paris, which I scarcely know;
this is but a trifling inquietude, I know, but one that may be
appreciated."
"We shall have the pleasure another time," said the countess;
"you promise that?" Monte Cristo inclined himself without
answering, but the gesture might pass for assent. "I will not
detain you, monsieur," continued the countess; "I would not have
our gratitude become indiscreet or importunate."
"My dear Count," said Albert, "I will endeavor to return your
politeness at Rome, and place my coupe at your disposal until your
own be ready."
"A thousand thanks for your kindness, viscount," returned the
Count of Monte Cristo "but I suppose that M. Bertuccio has suitably
employed the four hours and a half I have given him, and that I
shall find a carriage of some sort ready at the door." Albert was
used to the count's manner of proceeding; he knew that, like Nero,
he was in search of the impossible, and nothing astonished him, but
wishing to judge with his own eyes how far the count's orders had
been executed, he accompanied him to the door of the house. Monte
Cristo was not deceived. As soon as he appeared in the Count of
Morcerf's ante-chamber, a footman, the same who at Rome had brought
the count's card to the two young men, and announced his visit,
sprang into the vestibule, and when he arrived at the door the
illustrious traveller found his carriage awaiting him. It was a
coupe of Koller's building, and with horses and harness for which
Drake had, to the knowledge of all the lions of Paris, refused on
the previous day seven hundred guineas. "Monsieur," said the count
to Albert, "I do not ask you to accompany me to my house, as I can
only show you a habitation fitted up in a hurry, and I have, as you
know, a reputation to keep up as regards not being taken by
surprise. Give me, therefore, one more day before I invite you; I
shall then be certain not to fail in my hospitality."
"If you ask me for a day, count, I know what to anticipate; it"If you ask me for a day, count, I know what to anticipate; it
will not be a house I shall see, but a palace. You have decidedly
some genius at your control."
"Ma foi, spread that idea," replied the Count of Monte Cristo,
putting his foot on the velvet-lined steps of his splendid
carriage, "and that will be worth something to me among the
ladies." As he spoke, he sprang into the vehicle, the door was
closed, but not so rapidly that Monte Cristo failed to perceive the
almost imperceptible movement which stirred the curtains of the
apartment in which he had left Madame de Morcerf. When Albert
returned to his mother, he found her in the boudoir reclining in a
large velvet arm-chair, the whole room so obscure that only the
shining spangle, fastened here and there to the drapery, and the
angles of the gilded frames of the pictures, showed with some
degree of brightness in the gloom. Albert could not see the face of
the countess, as it was covered with a thin veil she had put on her
head, and which fell over her features in misty folds, but it
seemed to him as though her voice had altered. He could distinguish
amid the perfumes of the roses and heliotropes in the
flower-stands, the sharp and fragrant odor of volatile salts, and
he noticed in one of the chased cups on the mantle-piece the
countess's smelling-bottle, taken from its shagreen case, and
exclaimed in a tone of uneasiness, as he entered, — "My dear
mother, have you been ill during my absence?"
"No, no, Albert, but you know these roses, tuberoses, and
orange-flowers throw out at first, before one is used to them, such
violent perfumes."
"Then, my dear mother," said Albert, putting his hand to the
bell, "they must be taken into the ante-chamber. You are really
ill, and just now were so pale as you came into the room" —
"Was I pale, Albert?"
"Yes; a pallor that suits you admirably, mother, but which did
not the less alarm my father and myself."
"Did your father speak of it?" inquired Mercedes eagerly.