Chapter 54. A Flurry in Stocks
Some days after this meeting, Albert de Morcerf visited the Count ofMonte Cristo at his house in the Champs-Élysées, which had alreadyassumed that palace-like appearance which the count’s princely fortuneenabled him to give even to his most temporary residences. He came torenew the thanks of Madame Danglars which had been already conveyed tothe count through the medium of a letter, signed “Baronne Danglars, néeHermine de Servieux.”
Albert was accompanied by Lucien Debray, who, joining in his friend’sconversation, added some passing compliments, the source of which thecount’s talent for finesse easily enabled him to guess. He was convincedthat Lucien’s visit was due to a double feeling of curiosity, the largerhalf of which sentiment emanated from the Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin. Inshort, Madame Danglars, not being able personally to examine in detailthe domestic economy and household arrangements of a man who gave awayhorses worth 30,000 francs and who went to the opera with a Greek slavewearing diamonds to the amount of a million of money, had deputed thoseeyes, by which she was accustomed to see, to give her a faithful accountof the mode of life of this incomprehensible person. But the count didnot appear to suspect that there could be the slightest connectionbetween Lucien’s visit and the curiosity of the baroness.
“You are in constant communication with the Baron Danglars?” the countinquired of Albert de Morcerf.
“Yes, count, you know what I told you?”
“All remains the same, then, in that quarter?”
“It is more than ever a settled thing,” said Lucien,—and, consideringthat this remark was all that he was at that time called upon to make,he adjusted the glass to his eye, and biting the top of his gold headedcane, began to make the tour of the apartment, examining the arms andthe pictures.
“Ah,” said Monte Cristo “I did not expect that the affair would be sopromptly concluded.”
“Oh, things take their course without our assistance. While we areforgetting them, they are falling into their appointed order; and when,again, our attention is directed to them, we are surprised at theprogress they have made towards the proposed end. My father and M.Danglars served together in Spain, my father in the army and M. Danglarsin the commissariat department. It was there that my father, ruined bythe revolution, and M. Danglars, who never had possessed any patrimony,both laid the foundations of their different fortunes.”
“Yes,” said Monte Cristo “I think M. Danglars mentioned that in a visitwhich I paid him; and,” continued he, casting a side-glance at Lucien,who was turning over the leaves of an album, “Mademoiselle Eugénie ispretty—I think I remember that to be her name.”
“Very pretty, or rather, very beautiful,” replied Albert, “but of thatstyle of beauty which I do not appreciate; I am an ungrateful fellow.”
“You speak as if you were already her husband.”
“Ah,” returned Albert, in his turn looking around to see what Lucien wasdoing.
“Really,” said Monte Cristo, lowering his voice, “you do not appear tome to be very enthusiastic on the subject of this marriage.”
“Mademoiselle Danglars is too rich for me,” replied Morcerf, “and thatfrightens me.”
“Bah,” exclaimed Monte Cristo, “that’s a fine reason to give. Are younot rich yourself?”
“My father’s income is about 50,000 francs per annum; and he will giveme, perhaps, ten or twelve thousand when I marry.”
“That, perhaps, might not be considered a large sum, in Parisespecially,” said the count; “but everything does not depend on wealth,and it is a fine thing to have a good name, and to occupy a high stationin society. Your name is celebrated, your position magnificent; and thenthe Comte de Morcerf is a soldier, and it is pleasing to see theintegrity of a Bayard united to the poverty of a Duguesclin;disinterestedness is the brightest ray in which a noble sword can shine.As for me, I consider the union with Mademoiselle Danglars a mostsuitable one; she will enrich you, and you will ennoble her.”
Albert shook his head, and looked thoughtful.
“There is still something else,” said he.
“I confess,” observed Monte Cristo, “that I have some difficulty incomprehending your objection to a young lady who is both rich andbeautiful.”
“Oh,” said Morcerf, “this repugnance, if repugnance it may be called, isnot all on my side.”
“Whence can it arise, then? for you told me your father desired themarriage.”
“It is my mother who dissents; she has a clear and penetrating judgment,and does not smile on the proposed union. I cannot account for it, butshe seems to entertain some prejudice against the Danglars.”
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“Ah,” said the count, in a somewhat forced tone, “that may be easilyexplained; the Comtesse de Morcerf, who is aristocracy and refinementitself, does not relish the idea of being allied by your marriage withone of ignoble birth; that is natural enough.”
“I do not know if that is her reason,” said Albert, “but one thing I doknow, that if this marriage be consummated, it will render her quitemiserable. There was to have been a meeting six weeks ago in order totalk over and settle the affair; but I had such a sudden attack ofindisposition——”
“Real?” interrupted the count, smiling.
“Oh, real enough, from anxiety doubtless,—at any rate they postponed thematter for two months. There is no hurry, you know. I am not yet twenty-one, and Eugénie is only seventeen; but the two months expire next week.It must be done. My dear count, you cannot imagine how my mind isharassed. How happy you are in being exempt from all this!”
“Well, and why should not you be free, too? What prevents you from beingso?”
“Oh, it will be too great a disappointment to my father if I do notmarry Mademoiselle Danglars.”
“Marry her then,” said the count, with a significant shrug of theshoulders.
“Yes,” replied Morcerf, “but that will plunge my mother into positivegrief.”
“Then do not marry her,” said the count.
“Well, I shall see. I will try and think over what is the best thing tobe done; you will give me your advice, will you not, and if possibleextricate me from my unpleasant position? I think, rather than give painto my dear mother, I would run the risk of offending the count.”
Monte Cristo turned away; he seemed moved by this last remark.
“Ah,” said he to Debray, who had thrown himself into an easy-chair atthe farthest extremity of the salon, and who held a pencil in his righthand and an account book in his left, “what are you doing there? Are youmaking a sketch after Poussin?”
“Oh, no,” was the tranquil response; “I am too fond of art to attemptanything of that sort. I am doing a little sum in arithmetic.”
“In arithmetic?”
“Yes; I am calculating—by the way, Morcerf, that indirectly concernsyou—I am calculating what the house of Danglars must have gained by thelast rise in Haiti bonds; from 206 they have risen to 409 in three days,and the prudent banker had purchased at 206; therefore he must have made300,000 livres.”
“That is not his biggest scoop,” said Morcerf; “did he not make amillion in Spaniards this last year?”
“My dear fellow,” said Lucien, “here is the Count of Monte Cristo, whowill say to you, as the Italians do,—
“‘Denaro e santità, Metà della metà.’9 “When they tell me such things, Ionly shrug my shoulders and say nothing.”
“But you were speaking of Haitians?” said Monte Cristo.
“Ah, Haitians,—that is quite another thing! Haitians are the écarté ofFrench stock-jobbing. We may like bouillotte, delight in whist, beenraptured with boston, and yet grow tired of them all; but we alwayscome back to écarté—it is not only a game, it is a hors-d’œuvre! M.Danglars sold yesterday at 405, and pockets 300,000 francs. Had he butwaited till today, the price would have fallen to 205, and instead ofgaining 300,000 francs, he would have lost 20 or 25,000.”
“And what has caused t
he sudden fall from 409 to 206?” asked MonteCristo. “I am profoundly ignorant of all these stock-jobbing intrigues.”
“Because,” said Albert, laughing, “one piece of news follows another,and there is often great dissimilarity between them.”
“Ah,” said the count, “I see that M. Danglars is accustomed to play atgaining or losing 300,000 francs in a day; he must be enormously rich.”
“It is not he who plays!” exclaimed Lucien; “it is Madame Danglars; sheis indeed daring.”
“But you who are a reasonable being, Lucien, and who knows how littledependence is to be placed on the news, since you are at the fountain-head, surely you ought to prevent it,” said Morcerf, with a smile.
“How can I, if her husband fails in controlling her?” asked Lucien; “youknow the character of the baroness—no one has any influence with her,and she does precisely what she pleases.”
“Ah, if I were in your place——” said Albert.
“Well?”
“I would reform her; it would be rendering a service to her future son-in-law.”
“How would you set about it?”
“Ah, that would be easy enough—I would give her a lesson.”
“A lesson?”
“Yes. Your position as secretary to the minister renders your authoritygreat on the subject of political news; you never open your mouth butthe stockbrokers immediately stenograph your words. Cause her to lose ahundred thousand francs, and that would teach her prudence.”
“I do not understand,” stammered Lucien.
“It is very clear, notwithstanding,” replied the young man, with anartlessness wholly free from affectation; “tell her some fine morning anunheard-of piece of intelligence—some telegraphic despatch, of which youalone are in possession; for instance, that Henri IV. was seen yesterdayat Gabrielle’s. That would boom the market; she will buy heavily, andshe will certainly lose when Beauchamp announces the following day, inhis gazette, ‘The report circulated by some usually well-informedpersons that the king was seen yesterday at Gabrielle’s house, istotally without foundation. We can positively assert that his majestydid not quit the Pont-Neuf.’”
Lucien half smiled. Monte Cristo, although apparently indifferent, hadnot lost one word of this conversation, and his penetrating eye had evenread a hidden secret in the embarrassed manner of the secretary. Thisembarrassment had completely escaped Albert, but it caused Lucien toshorten his visit; he was evidently ill at ease. The count, in takingleave of him, said something in a low voice, to which he answered,“Willingly, count; I accept.” The count returned to young Morcerf.
“Do you not think, on reflection,” said he to him, “that you have donewrong in thus speaking of your mother-in-law in the presence of M.Debray?”
“My dear count,” said Morcerf, “I beg of you not to apply that title soprematurely.”
“Now, speaking without any exaggeration, is your mother really so verymuch averse to this marriage?”
“So much so that the baroness very rarely comes to the house, and mymother, has not, I think, visited Madame Danglars twice in her wholelife.”
“Then,” said the count, “I am emboldened to speak openly to you. M.Danglars is my banker; M. de Villefort has overwhelmed me withpoliteness in return for a service which a casual piece of good fortuneenabled me to render him. I predict from all this an avalanche ofdinners and routs. Now, in order not to presume on this, and also to bebeforehand with them, I have, if agreeable to you, thought of invitingM. and Madame Danglars, and M. and Madame de Villefort, to my country-house at Auteuil. If I were to invite you and the Count and Countess ofMorcerf to this dinner, I should give it the appearance of being amatrimonial meeting, or at least Madame de Morcerf would look upon theaffair in that light, especially if Baron Danglars did me the honor tobring his daughter. In that case your mother would hold me in aversion,and I do not at all wish that; on the contrary, I desire to stand highin her esteem.”
“Indeed, count,” said Morcerf, “I thank you sincerely for having used somuch candor towards me, and I gratefully accept the exclusion which youpropose. You say you desire my mother’s good opinion; I assure you it isalready yours to a very unusual extent.”
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“Do you think so?” said Monte Cristo, with interest.
“Oh, I am sure of it; we talked of you an hour after you left us theother day. But to return to what we were saying. If my mother could knowof this attention on your part—and I will venture to tell her—I am surethat she will be most grateful to you; it is true that my father will beequally angry.” The count laughed.
“Well,” said he to Morcerf, “but I think your father will not be theonly angry one; M. and Madame Danglars will think me a very ill-manneredperson. They know that I am intimate with you—that you are, in fact; oneof the oldest of my Parisian acquaintances—and they will not find you atmy house; they will certainly ask me why I did not invite you. Be sureto provide yourself with some previous engagement which shall have asemblance of probability, and communicate the fact to me by a line inwriting. You know that with bankers nothing but a written document willbe valid.”
“I will do better than that,” said Albert; “my mother is wishing to goto the sea-side—what day is fixed for your dinner?”
“Saturday.”
“This is Tuesday—well, tomorrow evening we leave, and the day after weshall be at Tréport. Really, count, you have a delightful way of settingpeople at their ease.”
“Indeed, you give me more credit than I deserve; I only wish to do whatwill be agreeable to you, that is all.”
“When shall you send your invitations?”
“This very day.”
“Well, I will immediately call on M. Danglars, and tell him that mymother and myself must leave Paris tomorrow. I have not seen you,consequently I know nothing of your dinner.”
“How foolish you are! Have you forgotten that M. Debray has just seenyou at my house?”
“Ah, true.”
“Fix it this way. I have seen you, and invited you without any ceremony,when you instantly answered that it would be impossible for you toaccept, as you were going to Tréport.”
“Well, then, that is settled; but you will come and call on my motherbefore tomorrow?”
“Before tomorrow?—that will be a difficult matter to arrange, besides, Ishall just be in the way of all the preparations for departure.”
“Well, you can do better. You were only a charming man before, but, ifyou accede to my proposal, you will be adorable.”
“What must I do to attain such sublimity?”
“You are today free as air—come and dine with me; we shall be a smallparty—only yourself, my mother, and I. You have scarcely seen my mother;you shall have an opportunity of observing her more closely. She is aremarkable woman, and I only regret that there does not exist anotherlike her, about twenty years younger; in that case, I assure you, therewould very soon be a Countess and Viscountess of Morcerf. As to myfather, you will not see him; he is officially engaged, and dines withthe chief referendary. We will talk over our travels; and you, who haveseen the whole world, will relate your adventures—you shall tell us thehistory of the beautiful Greek who was with you the other night at theOpera, and whom you call your slave, and yet treat like a princess. Wewill talk Italian and Spanish. Come, accept my invitation, and my motherwill thank you.”
“A thousand thanks,” said the count, “your invitation is most gracious,and I regret exceedingly that it is not in my power to accept it. I amnot so much at liberty as you suppose; on the contrary, I have a mostimportant engagement.”
“Ah, take care, you were teaching me just now how, in case of aninvitation to dinner, one might creditably make an excuse. I require theproof of a pre-engagement. I am not a banker, like M. Danglars, but I amquite as incredulous as he is.”
“I am going to give you a proof,” replied the count, and he rang thebell.
“Humph,” said Morcerf, “this is the second time you
have refused to dinewith my mother; it is evident that you wish to avoid her.”
Monte Cristo started. “Oh, you do not mean that,” said he; “besides,here comes the confirmation of my assertion.”
Baptistin entered, and remained standing at the door.
“I had no previous knowledge of your visit, had I?”
“Indeed, you are such an extraordinary person, that I would not answerfor it.”
“At all events, I could not guess that you would invite me to dinner.”
“Probably not.”
“Well, listen, Baptistin, what did I tell you this morning when I calledyou into my laboratory?”
“To close the door against visitors as soon as the clock struck five,”replied the valet.
“What then?”
“Ah, my dear count,” said Albert.
“No, no, I wish to do away with that mysterious reputation that you havegiven me, my dear viscount; it is tiresome to be always acting Manfred.I wish my life to be free and open. Go on, Baptistin.”
“Then to admit no one except Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and his son.”
“You hear—Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti—a man who ranks amongst the mostancient nobility of Italy, whose name Dante has celebrated in the tenthcanto of The Inferno, you remember it, do you not? Then there is hisson, Andrea, a charming young man, about your own age, viscount, bearingthe same title as yourself, and who is making his entry into theParisian world, aided by his father’s millions. The major will bring hisson with him this evening, the contino, as we say in Italy; he confideshim to my care. If he proves himself worthy of it, I will do what I canto advance his interests. You will assist me in the work, will you not?”
“Most undoubtedly. This Major Cavalcanti is an old friend of yours,then?”
“By no means. He is a perfect nobleman, very polite, modest, andagreeable, such as may be found constantly in Italy, descendants of veryancient families. I have met him several times at Florence, Bologna andLucca, and he has now communicated to me the fact of his arrival inParis. The acquaintances one makes in travelling have a sort of claim onone; they everywhere expect to receive the same attention which you oncepaid them by chance, as though the civilities of a passing hour werelikely to awaken any lasting interest in favor of the man in whosesociety you may happen to be thrown in the course of your journey. Thisgood Major Cavalcanti is come to take a second view of Paris, which heonly saw in passing through in the time of the Empire, when he was onhis way to Moscow. I shall give him a good dinner, he will confide hisson to my care, I will promise to watch over him, I shall let him followin whatever path his folly may lead him, and then I shall have done mypart.”
“Certainly; I see you are a model Mentor,” said Albert “Good-bye, weshall return on Sunday. By the way, I have received news of Franz.”
“Have you? Is he still amusing himself in Italy?”
“I believe so; however, he regrets your absence extremely. He says youwere the sun of Rome, and that without you all appears dark and cloudy;I do not know if he does not even go so far as to say that it rains.”
“His opinion of me is altered for the better, then?”
“No, he still persists in looking upon you as the most incomprehensibleand mysterious of beings.”
“He is a charming young man,” said Monte Cristo “and I felt a livelyinterest in him the very first evening of my introduction, when I methim in search of a supper, and prevailed upon him to accept a portion ofmine. He is, I think, the son of General d’Épinay?”
“He is.”
“The same who was so shamefully assassinated in 1815?”
“By the Bonapartists.”
“Yes. Really I like him extremely; is there not also a matrimonialengagement contemplated for him?”
“Yes, he is to marry Mademoiselle de Villefort.”
“Indeed?”
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“And you know I am to marry Mademoiselle Danglars,” said Albert,laughing.
“You smile.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you do so?”
“I smile because there appears to me to be about as much inclination forthe consummation of the engagement in question as there is for my own.But really, my dear count, we are talking as much of women as they do ofus; it is unpardonable.”
Albert rose.
“Are you going?”
“Really, that is a good idea!—two hours have I been boring you to deathwith my company, and then you, with the greatest politeness, ask me if Iam going. Indeed, count, you are the most polished man in the world. Andyour servants, too, how very well behaved they are; there is quite astyle about them. Monsieur Baptistin especially; I could never get sucha man as that. My servants seem to imitate those you sometimes see in aplay, who, because they have only a word or two to say, aquit themselvesin the most awkward manner possible. Therefore, if you part with M.Baptistin, give me the refusal of him.”
“By all means.”
“That is not all; give my compliments to your illustrious Luccanese,Cavalcante of the Cavalcanti; and if by any chance he should be wishingto establish his son, find him a wife very rich, very noble on hermother’s side at least, and a baroness in right of her father, I willhelp you in the search.”
“Ah, ha; you will do as much as that, will you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, really, nothing is certain in this world.”
“Oh, count, what a service you might render me! I should like you ahundred times better if, by your intervention, I could manage to remaina bachelor, even were it only for ten years.”
“Nothing is impossible,” gravely replied Monte Cristo; and taking leaveof Albert, he returned into the house, and struck the gong three times.Bertuccio appeared.
“Monsieur Bertuccio, you understand that I intend entertaining companyon Saturday at Auteuil.” Bertuccio slightly started. “I shall requireyour services to see that all be properly arranged. It is a beautifulhouse, or at all events may be made so.”
“There must be a good deal done before it can deserve that title, yourexcellency, for the tapestried hangings are very old.”
“Let them all be taken away and changed, then, with the exception of thesleeping-chamber which is hung with red damask; you will leave thatexactly as it is.” Bertuccio bowed. “You will not touch the gardeneither; as to the yard, you may do what you please with it; I shouldprefer that being altered beyond all recognition.”
“I will do everything in my power to carry out your wishes, yourexcellency. I should be glad, however, to receive your excellency’scommands concerning the dinner.”
“Really, my dear M. Bertuccio,” said the count, “since you have been inParis, you have become quite nervous, and apparently out of yourelement; you no longer seem to understand me.”
“But surely your excellency will be so good as to inform me whom you areexpecting to receive?”
“I do not yet know myself, neither is it necessary that you should doso. ‘Lucullus dines with Lucullus,’ that is quite sufficient.”
Bertuccio bowed, and left the room.