credit for having hit upon a most capital idea."
"And quite a national one, too," replied Albert with gratified
pride. "A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. Ha, ha, ye
Romans! you thought to make us, unhappy strangers, trot at the
heels of your processions, like so many lazzaroni, because no
carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city. But you
don't know us; when we can't have one thing we invent another."
"And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?"
"Only to our host. Upon my return home I sent for him, and I
then explained to him what I wished to procure. He assured me that
nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired. One thing I
was sorry for; when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded,
he told me there would not be time, as it would require three days
to do that; so you see we must do without this little
superfluity."
"And where is he now?"
"Who?"
"Our host."
"Gone out in search of our equipage, by to-morrow it might be
too late."
"Then he will be able to give us an answer to-night."
"Oh, I expect him every minute." At this instant the door
opened, and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. "Permesso?"
inquired he.
"Certainly — certainly," cried Franz. "Come in, mine host."
"Now, then," asked Albert eagerly, "have you found the desired
cart and oxen?"
"Better than that!" replied Signor Pastrini, with the air of a
man perfectly well satisfied with himself.
"Take care, my worthy host," said Albert, "better is a sure
enemy to well."
"Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me," returned
Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded
self-confidence.
"But what have you done?" asked Franz. "Speak out, there's a
worthy fellow."
"Your excellencies are aware," responded the landlord, swelling
with importance, "that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the
same floor with yourselves!"
"I should think we did know it," exclaimed Albert, "since it is
owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these smallowing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small
rooms, like two poor students in the back streets of Paris."
"When, then, the Count of Monte Cristo, hearing of the dilemma
in which you are placed, has sent to offer you seats in his
carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli." The
friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise.
"But do you think," asked Albert, "that we ought to accept such
offers from a perfect stranger?"
"What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" asked Franz
of his host. "A very great nobleman, but whether Maltese or
Sicilian I cannot exactly say; but this I know, that he is noble as
a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine."
"It seems to me," said Franz, speaking in an undertone to
Albert, "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our
landlord, he would have conveyed his invitation through another
channel, and not permitted it to be brought to us in this
unceremonious way. He would have written — or" —
At this instant some one knocked at the door. "Come in," said
Franz. A servant, wearing a livery of considerable style and
richness, appeared at the threshold, and, placing two cards in the
landlord's hands, who forthwith presented them to the two young
men, he said, "Please to deliver these, from the Count of Monte
Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M. Franz d'Epinay. The
Count of Monte Cristo," continued the servant, "begs these
gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor, and he
will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to
receive him."
"Faith, Franz," whispered Albert, "there is not much to find
fault with here."
"Tell the count," replied Franz, "that we will do ourselves the
pleasure of calling on him." The servant bowed and retired.
"That is what I call an elegant mode of attack," said Albert,
"You were quite correct in what you said, Signor Pastrini. The
Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate
breeding and knowledge of the world."Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate
breeding and knowledge of the world."
"Then you accept his offer?" said the host.
"Of course we do," replied Albert. "Still, I must own I am sorry
to be obliged to give up the cart and the group of reapers — it
would have produced such an effect! And were it not for the windows
at the Palazzo Rospoli, by way of recompense for the loss of our
beautiful scheme, I don't know but what I should have held on by my
original plan. What say you, Franz?"
"Oh, I agree with you; the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone
decided me." The truth was, that the mention of two places in the
Palazzo Rospoli had recalled to Franz the conversation he had
overheard the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum
between the mysterious unknown and the Transteverin, in which the
stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a
condemned criminal; and if this muffled-up individual proved (as
Franz felt sure he would) the same as the person he had just seen
in the Teatro Argentino, then he should be able to establish his
identity, and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with
perfect facility and freedom. Franz passed the night in confused
dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his
mysterious tormentor, and in waking speculations as to what the
morrow would produce. The next day must clear up every doubt; and
unless his near neighbor and would-be friend, the Count of Monte
Cristo, possessed the ring of Gyges, and by its power was able to
render himself invisible, it was very certain he could not escape
this time. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed, while Albert,
who had not the same motives for early rising, was still soundly
asleep. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord, who
presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness.
"Pray, Signor Pastrini," asked Franz, "is not some execution
appointed to take place to-day?"
"Yes, your excellency; but if your reason for inquiry is that