"And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" saidBeauchamp.

"A gentleman, and a diplomatist."

"Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman, andthree for the diplomatist. I shall come back to dessert;keep me some strawberries, coffee, and cigars. I shall takea cutlet on my way to the Chamber."

"Do not do anything of the sort; for were the gentleman aMontmorency, and the diplomatist a Metternich, we willbreakfast at eleven; in the meantime, follow Debray'sexample, and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit."

"Be it so; I will stay; I must do something to distract mythoughts."

"You are like Debray, and yet it seems to me that when theminister is out of spirits, the opposition ought to bejoyous."

"Ah, you do not know with what I am threatened. I shall hearthis morning that M. Danglars make a speech at the Chamberof Deputies, and at his wife's this evening I shall hear thetragedy of a peer of France. The devil take theconstitutional government, and since we had our choice, asthey say, at least, how could we choose that?"

"I understand; you must lay in a stock of hilarity."

"Do not run down M. Danglars' speeches," said Debray; "hevotes for you, for he belongs to the opposition."

"Pardieu, that is exactly the worst of all. I am waitinguntil you send him to speak at the Luxembourg, to laugh atmy ease."

"My dear friend," said Albert to Beauchamp, "it is plainthat the affairs of Spain are settled, for you are mostdesperately out of humor this morning. Recollect thatParisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself andMlle. Eugenie Danglars; I cannot in conscience, therefore,let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day sayto me, `Vicomte, you know I give my daughter two millions.'"

"Ah, this marriage will never take place," said Beauchamp."The king has made him a baron, and can make him a peer, buthe cannot make him a gentleman, and the Count of Morcerf istoo aristocratic to consent, for the paltry sum of twomillion francs, to a mesalliance. The Viscount of Morcerfcan only wed a marchioness."

"But two million francs make a nice little sum," repliedMorcerf.

"It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard, ora railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee."

"Never mind what he says, Morcerf," said Debray, "do youmarry her. You marry a money-bag label, it is true; well,but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazonless and a figure more on it. You have seven martlets onyour arms; give three to your wife, and you will still havefour; that is one more than M. de Guise had, who so nearlybecame King of France, and whose cousin was Emperor ofGermany."

"On my word, I think you are right, Lucien," said Albertabsently.

"To be sure; besides, every millionaire is as noble as abastard - that is, he can be."

"Do not say that, Debray," returned Beauchamp, laughing,"for here is Chateau-Renaud, who, to cure you of your maniafor paradoxes, will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban,his ancestor, through your body."

"He will sully it then," returned Lucien; "for I am low - very low."

"Oh, heavens," cried Beauchamp, "the minister quotesBeranger, what shall we come to next?"

"M. de Chateau-Renaud - M. Maximilian Morrel," said theservant, announcing two fresh guests.

"Now, then, to breakfast," said Beauchamp; "for, if Iremember, you told me you only expected two persons,Albert."

"Morrel," muttered Albert - "Morrel - who is he?" Butbefore he had finished, M. de Chateau-Renaud, a handsomeyoung man of thirty, gentleman all over, - that is, withthe figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart, - tookAlbert's hand. "My dear Albert," said he, "let me introduceto you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, my friend;and what is more - however the man speaks for himself - -mypreserver. Salute my hero, viscount." And he stepped on oneside to give place to a young man of refined and dignifiedbearing, with large and open brow, piercing eyes, and blackmustache, whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles,under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to beforgotten. A rich uniform, half French, half Oriental, setoff his graceful and stalwart figure, and his broad chestwas decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. Theyoung officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness."Monsieur," said Albert with affectionate courtesy, "thecount of Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure thisintroduction would give me; you are his friend, be oursalso."

"Well said," interrupted Chateau-Renaud; "and pray that, ifyou should ever be in a similar predicament, he may do asmuch for you as he did for me."

"What has he done?" asked Albert.

"Oh, nothing worth speaking of," said Morrel; "M. deChateau-Renaud exaggerates."

"Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud; "life is notworth speaking of! - that is rather too philosophical, onmy word, Morrel. It is very well for you, who risk your lifeevery day, but for me, who only did so once" -

"We gather from all this, baron, that Captain Morrel savedyour life."

"Exactly so."

"On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp.

"Beauchamp, my good fellow, you know I am starving," saidDebray: "do not set him off on some long story."

"Well, I do not prevent your sitting down to table," repliedBeauchamp, "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat ourbreakfast."

"Gentlemen," said Morcerf, "it is only a quarter past ten,and I expect some one else."

"Ah, true, a diplomatist!" observed Debray.

"Diplomat or not, I don't know; I only know that he chargedhimself on my account with a mission, which he terminated soentirely to my satisfaction, that had I been king, I shouldhave instantly created him knight of all my orders, even hadI been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter."

"Well, since we are not to sit down to table," said Debray,"take a glass of sherry, and tell us all about it."

"You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa."

"It is a road your ancestors have traced for you," saidAlbert gallantly.

"Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs - torescue the Holy Sepulchre."

"You are quite right, Beauchamp," observed the youngaristocrat. "It was only to fight as an amateur. I cannotbear duelling since two seconds, whom I had chosen toarrange an affair, forced me to break the arm of one of mybest friends, one whom you all know - poor Franz d'Epinay."

"Ah, true," said Debray, "you did fight some time ago; aboutwhat?"

"The devil take me, if I remember," returned Chateau-Renaud."But I recollect perfectly one thing, that, being unwillingto let such talents as mine sleep, I wished to try upon theArabs the new pistols that had been given to me. Inconsequence I embarked for Oran, and went from thence toConstantine, where I arrived just in time to witness theraising of the siege. I retreated with the rest, for eightand forty hours. I endured the rain during the day, and thecold during the night tolerably well, but the third morningmy horse died of cold. Poor brute - accustomed to becovered up and to have a stove in the stable, the Arabianfinds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia."

"That's why you want to purchase my English horse," saidDebray, "you think he will bear the cold better."

"You are mistaken, for I have made a vow never to return toAfrica."

"You were very much frightened, then?" asked Beauchamp.

"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," repliedChateau-Renaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse wasdead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. Ishot two with my double-barrelled gun, and two more with mypistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left;one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it soshort, for no one knows what may happen), the other swung ayataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, whenthis gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the onewho held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the otherwith his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving aman's life that day; chance caused that man to be myself.When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmannor Marochetti."

"Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the 5th of September,the anniversary of the day on which my father wasmiraculously preserved; therefore, as far as it lies in mypower, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" -

"Heroic action," interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "I was chosen.But that is not all - after rescuing me from the sword, herescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me,like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole; then fromhunger by sharing with me - guess what?"

"A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp.

"No, his horse; of which we each of us ate a slice with ahearty appetite. It was very hard."

"The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing.

"No, the sacrifice," returned Chateau-Renaud; "ask Debray ifhe would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?"

"Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend Imight, perhaps."

"I divined that you would become mine, count," repliedMorrel; "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism ornot, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to badfortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had onother days granted to us."

"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continuedChateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell yousome day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day letus fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do youbreakfast, Albert?"

"At half-past ten."

"Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch.

"Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf,"for I also expect a preserver."

"Of whom?"

"Of myself," cried Morcerf; "parbleu, do you think I cannotbe saved as well as any one else, and that there are onlyArabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropicone, and we shall have at table - at least, I hope so - two benefactors of humanity."

"What shall we do?" said Debray; "we have only one Monthyonprize."

"Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing todeserve it," said Beauchamp; "that is the way the Academymostly escapes from the dilemma."

"And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You havealready answered the question once, but so vaguely that Iventure to put it a second time."

"Really," said Albert, "I do not know; when I invited himthree months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that timewho knows where he may have gone?"

"And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray.

"I think him capable of everything."

"Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left."

"I will profit by them to tell you something about myguest."

"I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp; "are there anymaterials for an article in what you are going to tell us?"

"Yes, and for a most curious one."

"Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber thismorning, and I must make up for it."

"I was at Rome during the last Carnival."

"We know that," said Beauchamp.

"Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off bybandits."

"There are no bandits," cried Debray.

"Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirableones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me."

"Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cookis behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostendor Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you aregoing to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we aresufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to yourhistory, fabulous as it promises to be."

"And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as atrue one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried meoff, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombsof Saint Sebastian."

"I know it," said Chateau-Renaud; "I narrowly escapedcatching a fever there."

"And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caughtone. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sumof 4,000 Roman crowns - about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately,I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and ofmy credit. I wrote to Franz - and were he here he wouldconfirm every word - I wrote then to Franz that if he didnot come with the four thousand crowns before six, at tenminutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saintsand glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor ofbeing; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of thechief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept hisword."

"But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," saidChateau-Renaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay orAlbert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuringthem."

"No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am goingto present to you."

"Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseusfreeing Andromeda."

"No, he is a man about my own size."

"Armed to the teeth?"

"He had not even a knitting-needle."

"But he paid your ransom?"

"He said two words to the chief and I was free."

"And they apologized to him for having carried you off?"said Beauchamp.

"Just so."

"Why, he is a second Ariosto."

"No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo."

"There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray.

"I do not think so," added Chateau-Renaud, with the air of aman who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly.

"Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?"

"He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of hisancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the DeadSea."

"I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian."Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spokenof by the old sailors my father employed - a grain of sandin the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in theinfinite."

"Precisely!" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is thelord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom; he haspurchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany."

"He is rich, then?"

"I believe so."

"But that ought to be visible."

"That is what deceives you, Debray."

"I do not understand you."

"Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?"

"What a question!"

"Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich orpoor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds?They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open somemysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies."

"Which means?"

"Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of thosefishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since hecalls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled withgold."

"And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp.

"No, but Franz has; for heaven's sake, not a word of thisbefore him. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded, and waswaited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was apainted strumpet. Only he is not quite sure about the women,for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish,so that what he took for women might have been simply a rowof statues."

The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say, - "Areyou mad, or are you laughing at us?"

"And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heardsomething like this from an old sailor named Penelon."

"Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comesto aid me; you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives aclew to the labyrinth?"

"My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is soextraordinary."

"Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tellyou of them - they have no time. They are too much taken upwith interfering in the affairs of their countrymen whotravel."

"Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will youhave them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salariesevery day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you beambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople."

"No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor ofMehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make mysecretaries strangle me."

"You say very true," responded Debray.

"Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with theexistence of the Count of Monte Cristo."

"Pardieu, every one exists."

"Doubtless, but not in the same way; every one has not blackslaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that woulddo credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost sixthousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses."

"Have you seen the Greek mistress?"

"I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre,and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with thecount."

"He eats, then?"

"Yes; but so little, it can hardly be called eating."

"He must be a vampire."

"Laugh, if you will; the Countess G - - , who knew LordRuthven, declared that the count was a vampire."

"Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected withnewspapers, here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent ofthe Constitutionnel."

"Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates atpleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed,magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharpand white teeth, politeness unexceptionable."

"Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf; "you have described himfeature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. Thisman has often made me shudder; and one day that we wereviewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more fromhearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of everydescription of torture, than from the sight of theexecutioner and the culprit."

"Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum andsuck your blood?" asked Beauchamp.

"Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flamingparchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did hisbirth-right?"

"Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf,somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers onthe Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think ofthis man, it seems to me we are not of the same race."

"I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the sametime," added Chateau-Renaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo isa very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangementswith the Italian banditti."

"There are no Italian banditti," said Debray.

"No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo"added Debray. "There is half-past ten striking, Albert."

"Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down tobreakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clockhad not died away when Germain announced, "His excellencythe Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every onegave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them,and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifestingsudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in thestreet, or steps in the ante-chamber; the door had itselfopened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with thegreatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy couldhave found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every articleof dress - hat, coat, gloves, and boots - was from thefirst makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But whatstruck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portraitDebray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into thecentre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastenedtowards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner."Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness ofkings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think; but itis not the same with travellers. However, I hope you willexcuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand; fivehundred leagues are not to be accomplished without sometrouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it isforbidden to beat the postilions."

"My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing yourvisit to some of my friends, whom I had invited inconsequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, andwhom I now present to you. They are the Count ofChateau-Renaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelvepeers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table;M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of theinterior; M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terrorof the French government, but of whom, in spite of hisnational celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy,since his paper is prohibited there; and M. MaximilianMorrel, captain of Spahis."

At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every onewith courtesy, but at the same time with coldness andformality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of redcolored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the newFrench conquerors, monsieur," said he; "it is a handsomeuniform." No one could have said what caused the count'svoice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash,which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when hepleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" saidAlbert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this timeperfectly master of himself again.

"Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest andnoblest hearts in the whole army."

"Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel.

"Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continuedAlbert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that,although I have seen him to-day for the first time, Irequest you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." Atthese words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristothe concentrated look, changing color, and slight tremblingof the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a nobleheart," said the count; "so much the better." Thisexclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thoughtrather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody,and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo withwonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so softthat, however strange the speech might seem, it wasimpossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?"said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud.

"In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocraticglance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated atonce all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert hasnot deceived us, for the count is a most singular being.What say you, Morrel!"

"Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, inspite of the singular remark he has made about me."

"Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfastis ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." Theypassed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one tookhis place. "Gentleman," said the count, seating himself,"permit me to make a confession which must form my excusefor any improprieties I may commit. I am a stranger, and astranger to such a degree, that this is the first time Ihave ever been at Paris. The French way of living is utterlyunknown to me, and up to the present time I have followedthe Eastern customs, which are entirely in contrast to theParisian. I beg you, therefore, to excuse if you findanything in me too Turkish, too Italian, or too Arabian.Now, then, let us breakfast."

"With what an air he says all this," muttered Beauchamp;"decidedly he is a great man."

"A great man in his own country," added Debray.

"A great man in every country, M. Debray," saidChateau-Renaud. The count was, it may be remembered, a mosttemperate guest. Albert remarked this, expressing his fearslest, at the outset, the Parisian mode of life shoulddisplease the traveller in the most essential point. "Mydear count," said he, "I fear one thing, and that is, thatthe fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your tasteas that of the Piazza di Spagni. I ought to have consultedyou on the point, and have had some dishes preparedexpressly."

"Did you know me better," returned the count, smiling, "youwould not give one thought of such a thing for a travellerlike myself, who has successively lived on maccaroni atNaples, polenta at Milan, olla podrida at Valencia, pilau atConstantinople, karrick in India, and swallows' nests inChina. I eat everywhere, and of everything, only I eat butlittle; and to-day, that you reproach me with my want ofappetite, is my day of appetite, for I have not eaten sinceyesterday morning."

"What," cried all the guests, "you have not eaten for fourand twenty hours?"

"No," replied the count; "I was forced to go out of my roadto obtain some information near Nimes, so that I wassomewhat late, and therefore I did not choose to stop."

"And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf.

"No, I slept, as I generally do when I am weary withouthaving the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungrywithout feeling inclined to eat."

"But you can sleep when you please, monsieur?" said Morrel.

"Yes."

"You have a recipe for it?"

"An infallible one."

"That would be invaluable to us in Africa, who have notalways any food to eat, and rarely anything to drink."

"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "but, unfortunately, a recipeexcellent for a man like myself would be very dangerousapplied to an army, which might not awake when it wasneeded."

"May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray.

"Oh, yes," returned Monte Cristo; "I make no secret of it.It is a mixture of excellent opium, which I fetched myselffrom Canton in order to have it pure, and the best hashishwhich grows in the East - that is, between the Tigris andthe Euphrates. These two ingredients are mixed in equalproportions, and formed into pills. Ten minutes after one istaken, the effect is produced. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay; Ithink he tasted them one day."

"Yes," replied Morcerf, "he said something about it to me."

"But," said Beauchamp, who, as became a journalist, was veryincredulous, "you always carry this drug about you?"

"Always."

"Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those preciouspills?" continued Beauchamp, hoping to take him at adisadvantage.

"No, monsieur," returned the count; and he drew from hispocket a marvellous casket, formed out of a single emeraldand closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passageto a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea.This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. There were fouror five more in the emerald, which would contain about adozen. The casket passed around the table, but it was moreto examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills thatit passed from hand to hand. "And is it your cook whoprepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp.

"Oh, no, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not thusbetray my enjoyments to the vulgar. I am a tolerablechemist, and prepare my pills myself."

"This is a magnificent emerald, and the largest I have everseen," said Chateau-Renaud, "although my mother has someremarkable family jewels."

"I had three similar ones," returned Monte Cristo. "I gaveone to the Sultan, who mounted it in his sabre; another toour holy father the Pope, who had it set in his tiara,opposite to one nearly as large, though not so fine, givenby the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor, Pius VII. I keptthe third for myself, and I had it hollowed out, whichreduced its value, but rendered it more commodious for thepurpose I intended." Every one looked at Monte Cristo withastonishment; he spoke with so much simplicity that it wasevident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, thesight of the emerald made them naturally incline to theformer belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give youin exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray.

"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count;"the Pope, the life of a man; so that once in my life I havebeen as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the worldon the steps of a throne."

"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf;"it was for him that you obtained pardon?"

"Perhaps," returned the count, smiling.

"My dear count, you have no idea what pleasure it gives meto hear you speak thus," said Morcerf. "I had announced youbeforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the `ArabianNights,' a wizard of the Middle Ages; but the Parisians areso subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of theimagination the most incontestable truths, when these truthsdo not form a part of their daily existence. For example,here is Debray who reads, and Beauchamp who prints, everyday, `A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped androbbed on the Boulevard;' `four persons have beenassassinated in the Rue St. Denis' or `the Faubourg St.Germain;' `ten, fifteen, or twenty thieves, have beenarrested in a cafe on the Boulevard du Temple, or in theThermes de Julien,' - and yet these same men deny theexistence of the bandits in the Maremma, the Campagna diRomana, or the Pontine Marshes. Tell them yourself that Iwas taken by bandits, and that without your generousintercession I should now have been sleeping in theCatacombs of St. Sebastian, instead of receiving them in myhumble abode in the Rue du Helder."

"Ah," said Monte Cristo "you promised me never to mentionthat circumstance."

"It was not I who made that promise," cried Morcerf; "itmust have been some one else whom you have rescued in thesame manner, and whom you have forgotten. Pray speak of it,for I shall not only, I trust, relate the little I do know,but also a great deal I do not know."

"It seems to me," returned the count, smiling, "that youplayed a sufficiently important part to know as well asmyself what happened."

"Well, you promise me, if I tell all I know, to relate, inyour turn, all that I do not know?"

"That is but fair," replied Monte Cristo.

"Well," said Morcerf, "for three days I believed myself theobject of the attentions of a masque, whom I took for adescendant of Tullia or Poppoea, while I was simply theobject of the attentions of a contadina, and I say contadinato avoid saying peasant girl. What I know is, that, like afool, a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now, Imistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen orsixteen, with a beardless chin and slim waist, and who, justas I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips,placed a pistol to my head, and, aided by seven or eightothers, led, or rather dragged me, to the Catacombs of St.Sebastian, where I found a highly educated brigand chiefperusing Caesar's `Commentaries,' and who deigned to leaveoff reading to inform me, that unless the next morning,before six o'clock, four thousand piastres were paid intohis account at his banker's, at a quarter past six I shouldhave ceased to exist. The letter is still to be seen, for itis in Franz d'Epinay's possession, signed by me, and with apostscript of M. Luigi Vampa. This is all I know, but I knownot, count, how you contrived to inspire so much respect inthe bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respectfor anything. I assure you, Franz and I were lost inadmiration."

"Nothing more simple," returned the count. "I had known thefamous Vampa for more than ten years. When he was quite achild, and only a shepherd, I gave him a few gold pieces forshowing me my way, and he, in order to repay me, gave me aponiard, the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand,and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. Inafter years, whether he had forgotten this interchange ofpresents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, orwhether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but,on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen ofhis band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice,which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have beenparticularly so with him; but I did nothing of the sort - Isuffered him and his band to depart."

"With the condition that they should sin no more," saidBeauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise."

"No, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo "upon the simplecondition that they should respect myself and my friends.Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you, whoare socialists, and vaunt humanity and your duty to yourneighbor, but I never seek to protect a society which doesnot protect me, and which I will even say, generallyoccupies itself about me only to injure me; and thus bygiving them a low place in my esteem, and preserving aneutrality towards them, it is society and my neighbor whoare indebted to me."

"Bravo," cried Chateau-Renaud; "you are the first man I evermet sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count,bravo!"

"It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure thatthe count does not regret having once deviated from theprinciples he has so boldly avowed."

"How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" askedMonte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with somuch intensity, that two or three times the young man hadbeen unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance.

"Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in deliveringM. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to yourneighbor and to society."

"Of which he is the brightest ornament," said Beauchamp,drinking off a glass of champagne.

"My dear count," cried Morcerf, "you are at fault - you,one of the most formidable logicians I know - and you mustsee it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, youare a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, aLevantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name isMonte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismalappellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris youinstinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather thechief defect, of us eccentric Parisians, - that is, youassume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues youpossess."

"My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, inall I have done, anything that merits, either from you orthese gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. Youwere no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gaveup two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lentyou one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in yourcompany, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza delPopolo the execution that affected you so much that younearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen,could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, asyou term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that youcould introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I cameto France. You might some time ago have looked upon thisresolution as a vague project, but to-day you see it was areality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breakingyour word."

"I will keep it," returned Morcerf; "but I fear that youwill be much disappointed, accustomed as you are topicturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us youwill not meet with any of those episodes with which youradventurous existence has so familiarized you; ourChimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien,our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they arenow boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We haveplenty of thieves, though not so many as is said; but thesethieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord.France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, thatyou will not find in its eighty-five departments - I sayeighty-five, because I do not include Corsica - you willnot find, then, in these eighty-five departments a singlehill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in whichthe commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There isbut one service I can render you, and for that I placemyself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or makemy friends present, you everywhere; besides, you have noneed of any one to introduce you - with your name, and yourfortune, and your talent" (Monte Cristo bowed with asomewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourselfeverywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one wayonly - if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means ofrendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, canassist, you may depend upon me to find you a fittingdwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartmentswith you, as I shared yours at Rome - I, who do not professegotism, but am yet egotist par excellence; for, exceptmyself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unlessthat shadow were feminine."

"Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation;I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projectedmarriage. May I congratulate you?"

"The affair is still in projection."

"And he who says in `projection,' means already decided,"said Debray.

"No," replied Morcerf, "my father is most anxious about it;and I hope, ere long, to introduce you, if not to my wife,at least to my betrothed - Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars."

"Eugenie Danglars," said Monte Cristo; "tell me, is not herfather Baron Danglars?"

"Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation."

"What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered theState services which merit this distinction?"

"Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality aLiberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for CharlesX., in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of theLegion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as youwould think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at hisbutton-hole."

"Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp,keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare myfuture father-in-law before me." Then, turning to MonteCristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew thebaron?"

"I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo; "but I shallprobably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a creditopened with him by the house of Richard & Blount, of London,Arstein & Eskeles of Vienna, and Thomson & French at Rome."As he pronounced the two last names, the count glanced atMaximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce aneffect on Morrel, he was not mistaken - Maximilian startedas if he had been electrified. "Thomson & French," said he;"do you know this house, monsieur?"

"They are my bankers in the capital of the Christian world,"returned the count quietly. "Can my influence with them beof any service to you?"

"Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches whichhave been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in pastyears, did ours a great service, and has, I know not forwhat reason, always denied having rendered us this service."

"I shall be at your orders," said Monte Cristo bowing.

"But," continued Morcerf, "a propos of Danglars, - we havestrangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of asuitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come,gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall welodge this new guest in our great capital?"

"Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Chateau-Renaud. "The countwill find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden."

"Bah, Chateau-Renaud," returned Debray, "you only know yourdull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain; do not pay anyattention to him, count - live in the Chaussee d'Antin,that's the real centre of Paris."

"Boulevard de l'Opera," said Beauchamp; "the second floor - a house with a balcony. The count will have his cushions ofsilver cloth brought there, and as he smokes his chibouque,see all Paris pass before him."

"You have no idea, then, Morrel?" asked Chateau-Renaud; "youdo not propose anything."

"Oh, yes," returned the young man, smiling; "on thecontrary, I have one, but I expected the count would betempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him, yet ashe has not replied to any of them, I will venture to offerhim a suite of apartments in a charming hotel, in thePompadour style, that my sister has inhabited for a year, inthe Rue Meslay."

"You have a sister?" asked the count.

"Yes, monsieur, a most excellent sister."

"Married?"

"Nearly nine years."

"Happy?" asked the count again.

"As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be,"replied Maximilian. "She married the man she loved, whoremained faithful to us in our fallen fortunes - EmmanuelHerbaut." Monte Cristo smiled imperceptibly. "I live thereduring my leave of absence," continued Maximilian; "and Ishall be, together with my brother-in-law Emmanuel, at thedisposition of the Count, whenever he thinks fit to honorus."

"One minute," cried Albert, without giving Monte Cristo thetime to reply. "Take care, you are going to immure atraveller, Sinbad the Sailor, a man who comes to see Paris;you are going to make a patriarch of him."

"Oh, no," said Morrel; "my sister is five and twenty, mybrother-in-law is thirty, they are gay, young, and happy.Besides, the count will be in his own house, and only seethem when he thinks fit to do so."

"Thanks, monsieur," said Monte Cristo; "I shall contentmyself with being presented to your sister and her husband,if you will do me the honor to introduce me; but I cannotaccept the offer of any one of these gentlemen, since myhabitation is already prepared."

"What," cried Morcerf; "you are, then, going to an hotel - that will be very dull for you."

"Was I so badly lodged at Rome?" said Monte Cristo smiling.

"Parbleu, at Rome you spent fifty thousand piastres infurnishing your apartments, but I presume that you are notdisposed to spend a similar sum every day."

"It is not that which deterred me," replied Monte Cristo;"but as I determined to have a house to myself, I sent on myvalet de chambre, and he ought by this time to have boughtthe house and furnished it."

"But you have, then, a valet de chambre who knows Paris?"said Beauchamp.

"It is the first time he has ever been in Paris. He isblack, and cannot speak," returned Monte Cristo.

"It is Ali!" cried Albert, in the midst of the generalsurprise.

"Yes, Ali himself, my Nubian mute, whom you saw, I think, atRome."

"Certainly," said Morcerf; "I recollect him perfectly. Buthow could you charge a Nubian to purchase a house, and amute to furnish it? - he will do everything wrong."

"Undeceive yourself, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I amquite sure, that, on the contrary, he will choose everythingas I wish. He knows my tastes, my caprices, my wants. He hasbeen here a week, with the instinct of a hound, hunting byhimself. He will arrange everything for me. He knew, that Ishould arrive to-day at ten o'clock; he was waiting for meat nine at the Barriere de Fontainebleau. He gave me thispaper; it contains the number of my new abode; read ityourself," and Monte Cristo passed a paper to Albert. "Ah,that is really original," said Beauchamp.

"And very princely," added Chateau-Renaud.

"What, do you not know your house?" asked Debray.

"No," said Monte Cristo; "I told you I did not wish to bebehind my time; I dressed myself in the carriage, anddescended at the viscount's door." The young men looked ateach other; they did not know if it was a comedy MonteCristo was playing, but every word he uttered had such anair of simplicity, that it was impossible to suppose what hesaid was false - besides, why should he tell a falsehood?"We must content ourselves, then," said Beauchamp, "withrendering the count all the little services in our power. I,in my quality of journalist, open all the theatres to him."

"Thanks, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo, "my steward hasorders to take a box at each theatre."

"Is your steward also a Nubian?" asked Debray.

"No, he is a countryman of yours, if a Corsican is acountryman of any one's. But you know him, M. de Morcerf."

"Is it that excellent M. Bertuccio, who understands hiringwindows so well?"

"Yes, you saw him the day I had the honor of receiving you;he has been a soldier, a smuggler - in fact, everything. Iwould not be quite sure that he has not been mixed up withthe police for some trifle - a stab with a knife, forinstance."

"And you have chosen this honest citizen for your steward,"said Debray. "Of how much does he rob you every year?"

"On my word," replied the count, "not more than another. Iam sure he answers my purpose, knows no impossibility, andso I keep him."

"Then," continued Chateau-Renaud, "since you have anestablishment, a steward, and a hotel in the Champs Elysees,you only want a mistress." Albert smiled. He thought of thefair Greek he had seen in the count's box at the Argentinaand Valle theatres. "I have something better than that,"said Monte Cristo; "I have a slave. You procure yourmistresses from the opera, the Vaudeville, or the Varietes;I purchased mine at Constantinople; it cost me more, but Ihave nothing to fear."

"But you forget," replied Debray, laughing, "that we areFranks by name and franks by nature, as King Charles said,and that the moment she puts her foot in France your slavebecomes free."

"Who will tell her?"

"The first person who sees her."

"She only speaks Romaic."

"That is different."

"But at least we shall see her," said Beauchamp, "or do youkeep eunuchs as well as mutes?"

"Oh, no," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not carry brutalism sofar. Every one who surrounds me is free to quit me, and whenthey leave me will no longer have any need of me or any oneelse; it is for that reason, perhaps, that they do not quitme." They had long since passed to dessert and cigars.

"My dear Albert," said Debray, rising, "it is half-past two.Your guest is charming, but you leave the best company to gointo the worst sometimes. I must return to the minister's. Iwill tell him of the count, and we shall soon know who heis."

"Take care," returned Albert; "no one has been able toaccomplish that."

"Oh, we have three millions for our police; it is true theyare almost always spent beforehand, but, no matter, we shallstill have fifty thousand francs to spend for this purpose."

"And when you know, will you tell me?"

"I promise you. Au revoir, Albert. Gentlemen, good morning."

As he left the room, Debray called out loudly, "Mycarriage."

"Bravo," said Beauchamp to Albert; "I shall not go to theChamber, but I have something better to offer my readersthan a speech of M. Danglars."

"For heaven's sake, Beauchamp," returned Morcerf, "do notdeprive me of the merit of introducing him everywhere. Is henot peculiar?"

"He is more than that," replied Chateau-Renaud; "he is oneof the most extraordinary men I ever saw in my life. Are youcoming, Morrel?"

"Directly I have given my card to the count, who haspromised to pay us a visit at Rue Meslay, No. 14."

"Be sure I shall not fail to do so," returned the count,bowing. And Maximilian Morrel left the room with the Baronde Chateau-Renaud, leaving Monte Cristo alone with Morcerf.