Chapter 176: Chapter 176

She turned toward him with a serene smile just as he bowed to her. She seemed to expect him to speak to her, while he appeared to think she would address him first. But both remained silent. After merely exchanging bows, Monte Cristo directed his steps toward Albert, who greeted him warmly.

"Have you seen my mother?" Albert asked.

"I just had the pleasure," the count replied, "but I haven’t seen your father."

"Look, he’s over there, talking politics with that little group of supposed geniuses."

"Really?" Monte Cristo said. "Those gentlemen are considered great talents? I wouldn’t have guessed. What kind of talent are they celebrated for? You know there are many different kinds."

"That tall, stern-looking man is very scholarly. He discovered some type of lizard near Rome that has an extra vertebra compared to normal lizards. He immediately presented his finding to the scientific institute. The discovery was debated for ages but eventually decided in his favor. I assure you, that vertebra caused quite a stir in academic circles. The gentleman was promoted from knight to officer in the Legion of Honor because of it."

"Well," Monte Cristo said, "that honor seems wisely awarded. I suppose if he’d found yet another vertebra, they’d have made him a commander."

"Very likely," Albert agreed.

"And who’s that person who decided to wrap himself in a blue coat embroidered with green?"

"Oh, that coat wasn’t his idea. The government commissioned David to design a uniform for the Academy members."

"I see. So this gentleman is an academician?"

"He was elected just last week."

"And what’s his particular area of expertise?"

"His specialty? I believe he shoves pins through rabbits’ heads, makes chickens eat dye, and extracts spinal fluid from dogs using implements."

"And he was made a member of the Science Academy for this?"

"No, the French Academy."

"But what does the French Academy have to do with any of that?"

"I was just getting to that. Apparently-" Read complete versıon only at N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"His experiments have significantly advanced science, I assume?"

"No, his writing style is very good."

"That must be very flattering to the rabbits with pins in their heads, the chickens with dyed bones, and the dogs whose spinal fluid he’s extracted."

"What about the other one?" the count asked.

"The one in the dark blue coat?"

"He’s a colleague of the count’s and one of the most vocal opponents of creating a uniform for the Chamber of Peers. He was very successful in that debate. The liberal newspapers initially criticized him, but his noble opposition to the court’s wishes has now won him favor with journalists. They’re talking about making him an ambassador."

"And what qualifies him for the peerage?"

"He composed two or three comic operas, wrote four or five articles in a newspaper, and voted with the government for five or six years."

"Bravo, Viscount," Monte Cristo said with a smile. "You’re a delightful tour guide. Now, will you do me a favor?"

"Don’t introduce me to any of these gentlemen. And if they want to meet me, please warn me first."

Just then, the count felt pressure on his arm. He turned around to find Danglars.

"Ah, Baron, is that you?" he said.

"Why do you call me baron?" Danglars asked. "You know I don’t care about my title. I’m not like you, Viscount, you actually enjoy your title, don’t you?"

"Certainly," Albert replied. "Without my title, I’d be nothing. But you, even without being a baron, would still be a millionaire."

"Which seems to me the finest title of all these days," Danglars said.

"Unfortunately," Monte Cristo interjected, "the title of millionaire doesn’t last for life like baron or academician. For example, the millionaires Franck and Poulmann of Frankfurt just declared bankruptcy."

"What?" Danglars said, his face going pale.

"Yes, I received the news this evening by courier. I had about a million invested with them, but I was warned in time and withdrew it a month ago."

"Oh my God!" Danglars exclaimed. "They’ve drawn on me for two hundred thousand francs!"

"Well, you can refuse to honor the draft. Their signature is basically worthless now."

"Yes, but it’s too late," Danglars said. "I’ve already honored their bills."

"Then," Monte Cristo said, "there goes two hundred thousand francs-"

"Shh, don’t mention these things," Danglars interrupted, then leaned closer to Monte Cristo and added, "especially not in front of young Mr. Cavalcanti." He smiled and turned toward the young man in question.

Albert had left the count to speak with his mother, and Danglars moved to converse with young Cavalcanti. For a moment, Monte Cristo stood alone.

Meanwhile, the heat in the ballroom had become excessive. Servants rushed through the rooms with trays loaded with ices and cold drinks. Monte Cristo wiped perspiration from his forehead but drew back when a servant approached with refreshments. He took nothing.

Madame de Morcerf had been watching Monte Cristo closely. She noticed he’d taken nothing and even caught his gesture of refusal.

"Albert," she asked her son, "did you notice that?"

"Notice what, Mother?"

"The count has never been willing to eat anything under M. de Morcerf’s roof."

"Well, yes, but he had breakfast with me once. In fact, that was his first public appearance."

"But your house isn’t M. de Morcerf’s house," Mercedes murmured. "And since he’s been here, I’ve been watching him."

"He hasn’t taken anything yet."

"The count is very disciplined about food."

Mercedes smiled sadly.

"Go to him," she said. "When the next server passes, insist that he take something."

"Just to please me, Albert," Mercedes said.

Albert kissed his mother’s hand and approached the count. Another tray passed, as loaded as the previous ones. Mercedes watched as Albert tried to persuade the count, but he stubbornly refused. Albert returned to his mother, who had grown even paler.

"Well," she said, "you see how he refuses?"

"Yes, but why does this bother you?"

"You know, Albert, women have strange intuitions. I would have liked to see the count accept something in my house, even just an ice. Perhaps he can’t adjust to our way of living and prefers something else."

"Oh no, I’ve seen him eat everything when he was in Italy. He’s probably just not hungry this evening."

"Besides," the countess added, "accustomed as he is to hot climates, perhaps he doesn’t feel the heat the way we do."

"I don’t think that’s it. He actually complained about feeling suffocated and asked why we didn’t open the shutters along with the windows."

"In other words," Mercedes said, "it was his way of making sure I understood his refusal was intentional."

She left the room. A minute later, servants threw open the shutters. Through the jasmine and clematis hanging over the windows, guests could see the garden decorated with lanterns and the dinner table set up under the tent. Dancers, card players, and conversationalists all exclaimed with joy, gratefully inhaling the breeze that floated inside.

At the same moment, Mercedes reappeared, even paler than before, but wearing that unshakeable expression she sometimes adopted. She walked straight to the group where her husband stood at the center.

"Don’t keep these gentlemen inside, Count," she said. "I’m sure they’d prefer breathing in the garden to suffocating in here, especially since they’re not playing cards."

"Ah," said a gallant old general who’d fought in past wars, "we won’t go to the garden alone."

"Then," Mercedes said, "I’ll lead the way." She turned toward Monte Cristo and added, "Count, will you give me your arm?"

The count almost staggered at these simple words. He fixed his eyes on Mercedes. It was only a momentary glance, but it seemed to the countess to last a century, so much emotion was expressed in that single look.

He offered his arm to the countess. She took it, or rather, barely touched it with her small hand, and together they descended the steps lined with rhododendrons and camellias. Behind them, through another exit, a group of about twenty people rushed into the garden with loud exclamations of delight.