to one so young. His first movement was to free himself by a
violent push from the encircling arms of his mother, and to rush
forward to the casket from whence the count had taken the phial of
elixir; then, without asking permission of any one, he proceeded,
in all the wilfulness of a spoiled child unaccustomed to restrain
either whims or caprices, to pull the corks out of all the
bottles.
"Touch nothing, my little friend," cried the count eagerly;
"some of those liquids are not only dangerous to taste, but even to
inhale."
Madame de Villefort became very pale, and, seizing her son's
arm, drew him anxiously toward her; but, once satisfied of his
safety, she also cast a brief but expressive glance on the casket,
which was not lost upon the count. At this moment Ali entered. At
sight of him Madame de Villefort uttered an expression of pleasure,
and, holding the child still closer towards her, she said, "Edward,
dearest, do you see that good man? He has shown very great courage
and resolution, for he exposed his own life to stop the horses that
were running away with us, and would certainly have dashed the
carriage to pieces. Thank him, then, my child, in your very best
manner; for, had he not come to our aid, neither you nor I would
have been alive to speak our thanks." The child stuck out his lips
and turned away his head in a disdainful manner, saying, "He's too
ugly."
The count smiled as if the child bade fair to realize his hopes,
while Madame de Villefort reprimanded her son with a gentleness and
moderation very far from conveying the least idea of a fault having
been committed. "This lady," said the Count, speaking to Ali in the
Arabic language, "is desirous that her son should thank you for
saving both their lives; but the boy refuses, saying you are too
ugly." Ali turned his intelligent countenance towards the boy, on
whom he gazed without any apparent emotion; but the spasmodic
working of the nostrils showed to the practiced eye of Monte Cristo
that the Arab had been wounded to the heart.that the Arab had been wounded to the heart.
"Will you permit me to inquire," said Madame de Villefort, as
she arose to take her leave, "whether you usually reside here?"
"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo; "it is a small place I
have purchased quite lately. My place of abode is No. 30, Avenue
des Champs Elysees; but I see you have quite recovered from your
fright, and are, no doubt, desirous of returning home. Anticipating
your wishes, I have desired the same horses you came with to be put
to one of my carriages, and Ali, he whom you think so very ugly,"
continued he, addressing the boy with a smiling air, "will have the
honor of driving you home, while your coachman remains here to
attend to the necessary repairs of your calash. As soon as that
important business is concluded, I will have a pair of my own
horses harnessed to convey it direct to Madame Danglars."
"I dare not return with those dreadful horses," said Madame de
Villefort.
"You will see," replied Monte Cristo, "that they will be as
different as possible in the hands of Ali. With him they will be
gentle and docile as lambs." Ali had, indeed, given proof of this;
for, approaching the animals, who had been got upon their legs with
considerable difficulty, he rubbed their foreheads and nostrils
with a sponge soaked in aromatic vinegar, and wiped off the sweat
and foam that covered their mouths. Then, commencing a loud
whistling noise, he rubbed them well all over their bodies for
several minutes; then, undisturbed by the noisy crowd collected
round the broken carriage, Ali quietly harnessed the pacified
animals to the count's chariot, took the reins in his hands, and
mounted the box, when to the utter astonishment of those who had
witnessed the ungovernable spirit and maddened speed of the same
horses, he was actually compelled to apply his whip in no very
gentle manner before he could induce them to start; and even then
all that could be obtained from the celebrated "dappled grays," nowall that could be obtained from the celebrated "dappled grays," now
changed into a couple of dull, sluggish, stupid brutes, was a slow,
pottering pace, kept up with so much difficulty that Madame de
Villefort was more than two hours returning to her residence in the
Faubourg St. Honore.
Scarcely had the first congratulations upon her marvellous
escape been gone through when she wrote the following letter to
Madame Danglars: —
Dear Hermine, — I have just had a wonderful escape from the most
imminent danger, and I owe my safety to the very Count of Monte
Cristo we were talking about yesterday, but whom I little expected
to see to-day. I remember how unmercifully I laughed at what I
considered your eulogistic and exaggerated praises of him; but I
have now ample cause to admit that your enthusiastic description of
this wonderful man fell far short of his merits. Your horses got as
far as Ranelagh, when they darted forward like mad things, and
galloped away at so fearful a rate, that there seemed no other
prospect for myself and my poor Edward but that of being dashed to
pieces against the first object that impeded their progress, when a
strange-looking man, — an Arab, a negro, or a Nubian, at least a
black of some nation or other — at a signal from the count, whose
domestic he is, suddenly seized and stopped the infuriated animals,
even at the risk of being trampled to death himself; and certainly
he must have had a most wonderful escape. The count then hastened
to us, and took us into his house, where he speedily recalled my
poor Edward to life. He sent us home in his own carriage. Yours
will be returned to you to-morrow. You will find your horses in bad
condition, from the results of this accident; they seem thoroughly
stupefied, as if sulky and vexed at having been conquered by man.
The count, however, his commissioned me to assure you that two or
three days' rest, with plenty of barley for their sole food during
that time, will bring them back to as fine, that is as terrifying,