“But you cannot break it off in this way; the Morcerfs are depending on this union.”
“Indeed.”
“Positively.”
“Then let them explain themselves; you should give the father a hint, you are so intimate with the family.”
“I? — where the devil did you find out that?”
“At their ball; it was apparent enough. Why, did not the countess, the proud Mercedes, the disdainful Catalane, who will scarcely open her lips to her oldest acquaintances, take your arm, lead you into the garden, into the private walks, and remain there for half an hour?”
“Ah, baron, baron,” said Albert, “you are not listening — what barbarism in a melomaniac like you!”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Sir Mocker,” said Danglars; then turning to the count he said, “but will you undertake to speak to the father?”
“Willingly, if you wish it.”
“But let it be done explicitly and positively. If he demands my daughter let him fix the day — declare his conditions; in short, let us either understand each other, or quarrel. You understand — no more delay.”
“Yes. sir, I will give my attention to the subject.”
“I do not say that I await with pleasure his decision, but I do await it. A banker must, you know, be a slave to his promise.” And Danglars sighed as M. Cavalcanti had done half an hour before. “Bravi, bravo, brava!” cried Morcerf, parodying the banker, as the selection came to an end. Danglars began to look suspiciously at Morcerf, when some one came and whispered a few words to him. “I shall soon return,” said the banker to Monte Cristo; “wait for me. I shall, perhaps, have something to say to you.” And he went out.
The baroness took advantage of her husband’s absence to push open the door of her daughter’s study, and M. Andrea, who was sitting before the piano with Mademoiselle Eugenie, started up like a jack-in-the-box. Albert bowed with a smile to Mademoiselle Danglars, who did not appear in the least disturbed, and returned his bow with her usual coolness. Cavalcanti was evidently embarrassed; he bowed to Morcerf, who replied with the most impertinent look possible. Then Albert launched out in praise of Mademoiselle Danglars’ voice, and on his regret, after what he had just heard, that he had been unable to be present the previous evening. Cavalcanti, being left alone, turned to Monte Cristo.
“Come,” said Madame Danglars, “leave music and compliments, and let us go and take tea.”
“Come, Louise,” said Mademoiselle Danglars to her friend. They passed into the next drawing-room, where tea was prepared. Just as they were beginning, in the English fashion, to leave the spoons in their cups, the door again opened and Danglars entered, visibly agitated. Monte Cristo observed it particularly, and by a look asked the banker for an explanation. “I have just received my courier from Greece,” said Danglars.
“Ah, yes,” said the count; “that was the reason of your running away from us.”
“Yes.”
“How is King Otho getting on?” asked Albert in the most sprightly tone. Danglars cast another suspicious look towards him without answering, and Monte Cristo turned away to conceal the expression of pity which passed over his features, but which was gone in a moment. “We shall go together, shall we not?” said Albert to the count.
“If you like,” replied the latter. Albert could not understand the banker’s look, and turning to Monte Cristo, who understood it perfectly, —“Did you see,” said he, “how he looked at me?”
“Yes,” said the count; “but did you think there was anything particular in his look?”
“Indeed, I did; and what does he mean by his news from Greece?”
“How can I tell you?”
“Because I imagine you have correspondents in that country.” Monte Cristo smiled significantly.
“Stop,” said Albert, “here he comes. I shall compliment Mademoiselle Danglars on her cameo, while the father talks to you.”
“If you compliment her at all, let it be on her voice, at least,” said Monte Cristo.
“No, every one would do that.”
“My dear viscount, you are dreadfully impertinent.” Albert advanced towards Eugenie, smiling. Meanwhile, Danglars, stooping to Monte Cristo’s ear, “Your advice was excellent,” said he; “there is a whole history connected with the names Fernand and Yanina.”