the past; nor upon any occasion be induced to pronounce the names
of your illustrious father or ill-fated mother."
"I have already told you, my lord, that I shall see no one."
"It is possible, Haidee, that so perfect a seclusion, though
conformable with the habits and customs of the East, may not be
practicable in Paris. Endeavor, then, to accustom yourself to our
manner of living in these northern climes as you did to those of
Rome, Florence, Milan, and Madrid; it may be useful to you one of
these days, whether you remain here or return to the East." The
young girl raised her tearful eyes towards Monte Cristo as she said
with touching earnestness, "Whether we return to the East, you mean
to say, my lord, do you not?"
"My child," returned Monte Cristo "you know full well that
whenever we part, it will be no fault or wish of mine; the tree
forsakes not the flower — the flower falls from the tree."
"My lord," replied Haidee, "I never will leave you, for I am
sure I could not exist without you."
"My poor girl, in ten years I shall be old, and you will be
still young."
"My father had a long white beard, but I loved him; he was sixty
years old, but to me he was handsomer than all the fine youths I
saw."
"Then tell me, Haidee, do you believe you shall be able to
accustom yourself to our present mode of life?"
"Shall I see you?"
"Every day."
"Then what do you fear, my lord?"
"You might find it dull."
"No, my lord. In the morning, I shall rejoice in the prospect of
your coming, and in the evening dwell with delight on the happiness
I have enjoyed in your presence; then too, when alone, I can call
forth mighty pictures of the past, see vast horizons bounded only
by the towering mountains of Pindus and Olympus. Oh, believe me,
that when three great passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude
fill the heart, ennui can find no place."
"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Haidee, and your charming
and poetical ideas prove well your descent from that race ofand poetical ideas prove well your descent from that race of
goddesses who claim your country as their birthplace. Depend on my
care to see that your youth is not blighted, or suffered to pass
away in ungenial solitude; and of this be well assured, that if you
love me as a father, I love you as a child."
"You are wrong, my lord. The love I have for you is very
different from the love I had for my father. My father died, but I
did not die. If you were to die, I should die too." The Count, with
a smile of profound tenderness, extended his hand, and she carried
it to her lips. Monte Cristo, thus attuned to the interview he
proposed to hold with Morrel and his family, departed, murmuring as
he went these lines of Pindar, "Youth is a flower of which love is
the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth,
is permitted to gather and call it his own." The carriage was
prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into it, the
count drove off at his usual rapid pace.In a very few minutes the count reached No. 7 in the Rue Meslay.
The house was of white stone, and in a small court before it were
two small beds full of beautiful flowers. In the concierge that
opened the gate the count recognized Cocles; but as he had but one
eye, and that eye had become somewhat dim in the course of nine
years, Cocles did not recognize the count. The carriages that drove
up to the door were compelled to turn, to avoid a fountain that
played in a basin of rockwork, — an ornament that had excited the
jealousy of the whole quarter, and had gained for the place the
appellation of "The Little Versailles." It is needless to add that
there were gold and silver fish in the basin. The house, with
kitchens and cellars below, had above the ground-floor, two stories
and attics. The whole of the property, consisting of an immense
workshop, two pavilions at the bottom of the garden, and the garden
itself, had been purchased by Emmanuel, who had seen at a glance
that he could make of it a profitable speculation. He had reserved
the house and half the garden, and building a wall between the
garden and the workshops, had let them upon lease with the
pavilions at the bottom of the garden. So that for a trifling sum
he was as well lodged, and as perfectly shut out from observation,
as the inhabitants of the finest mansion in the Faubourg St.
Germain. The breakfast-room was finished in oak; the salon in
mahogany, and the furnishings were of blue velvet; the bedroom was
in citronwood and green damask. There was a study for Emmanuel, who
never studied, and a music-room for Julie, who never played. The
whole of the second story was set apart for Maximilian; it was
precisely similar to his sister's apartments, except that for the
breakfast-parlor he had a billiard-room, where he received his
friends. He was superintending the grooming of his horse, and
smoking his cigar at the entrance of the garden, when the count's
carriage stopped at the gate.
Cocles opened the gate, and Baptistin, springing from the box,carriage stopped at the gate.
Cocles opened the gate, and Baptistin, springing from the box,
inquired whether Monsieur and Madame Herbault and Monsieur
Maximilian Morrel would see his excellency the Count of Monte
Cristo. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" cried Morrel, throwing away
his cigar and hastening to the carriage; "I should think we would
see him. Ah, a thousand thanks, count, for not having forgotten
your promise." And the young officer shook the count's hand so
warmly, that Monte Cristo could not be mistaken as to the sincerity
of his joy, and he saw that he had been expected with impatience,
and was received with pleasure. "Come, come," said Maximilian, "I
will serve as your guide; such a man as you are ought not to be
introduced by a servant. My sister is in the garden plucking the
dead roses; my brother is reading his two papers, the Presse and
the Debats, within six steps of her; for wherever you see Madame
Herbault, you have only to look within a circle of four yards and
you will find M. Emmanuel, and `reciprocally,' as they say at the
Polytechnic School." At the sound of their steps a young woman of
twenty to five and twenty, dressed in a silk morning gown, and
busily engaged in plucking the dead leaves off a noisette
rose-tree, raised her head. This was Julie, who had become, as the
clerk of the house of Thomson & French had predicted, Madame
Emmanuel Herbault. She uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of a
stranger, and Maximilian began to laugh. "Don't disturb yourself,
Julie," said he. "The count has only been two or three days in
Paris, but he already knows what a fashionable woman of the Marais
is, and if he does not, you will show him."
"Ah, monsieur," returned Julie, "it is treason in my brother to
bring you thus, but he never has any regard for his poor sister.
Penelon, Penelon!" An old man, who was digging busily at one of the
beds, stuck his spade in the earth, and approached, cap in hand,
striving to conceal a quid of tobacco he had just thrust into his