Edmond Dantès
"He looks for us; I will go to him!" remarked Flocon.
"He looks for his wife," replied Louis Blanc. "There, he catches her
eye. See how eagerly she flies to him!"
"That is the finest pair in Paris," remarked the journalist.
"And the most devoted," added Ledru Rollin. "They have been man and wife
for some time, it is said, and any one would take them for lovers at
this moment."
"Have they children?" asked Flocon.
"No; but M. Dantes has by a former wife a son and daughter, who rival
in good looks the celebrated children of our friend Victor Hugo,"
returned Louis Blanc.
"I met Arago, Lamartine, Sue, Chateaubriand and some other celebrities
at his mansion in the Rue du Helder one night, recently," continued
Marrast, "and I thought I never saw a house arranged with such perfect
taste. The salons, library, picture-gallery, cabinet of natural history,
conservatory, and laboratory were superb--everything, in short, was
exquisite."
"And then one is always sure to meet at Madame Dantes' soirees," added
Louis Blanc, "exactly the persons who, of all others, he wishes to see,
and whom he would meet nowhere else, poets, painters, authors, orators,
statesmen and artists of every description--in fine, every man or woman,
whether native or foreigner, distinguished for anything, is certain to
be met with at M. Dantes' house."
"I once met there," said Flocon, "Rachel, the actress, and Van Amburgh,
the lion-king."
"M. Dantes is a perfect Maecenas in encouraging merit, as every one
knows," remarked Marrast; "and he manifests especial solicitude to show
that he appreciates worth more highly than wealth--genius than station.
Poverty and ability are sure recommendations to him."
"Madame Dantes is, I am told, as devoted to the good cause as her
husband," remarked Flocon.
"She is a second Madame Roland!" exclaimed Louis Blanc. "France will
owe much to such women as she and her friend Madame Dudevant!"
"She differs greatly from Madame George Sand in some respects, I fancy,"
said Marrast; "but, if she at all rivals that wonderful woman in
devotedness to the cause of human rights, whether of her own sex or
ours, she deserves well of France. In her charities, it is notorious,
she has no rival. Half the mendicants of the capital bless her name, and
she is at the head of a dozen associations and enterprises for the
amelioration of the condition of the destitute, suffering and abandoned
of her sex."
"Upon my word, Messieurs," cried Ledru Rollin, "your praises of M.
Dantes and Madame, his beautiful wife, are perfectly enthusiastic--so
much so, that, in your zeal, you utterly forgot another matter quite as
momentous. I am so unfortunate as to know M. Dantes only as one of the
great pillars of our noble cause, and a man who, for nearly six years,
has proven himself an apostle of man's rights, and ready, if need be, to
become a martyr! That's enough for me to know of him!"
"But who really are M. Dantes and his wife?" asked Flocon.
"Who really are any of us?" laughingly rejoined Louis Blanc.
"Who really is any one in Paris," continued Marrast, "the blood-royal
always and alone excepted?"
"Of M. Dantes this only is known," said Louis Blanc, "that for five or
six years past he has been a Deputy from Marseilles, Lyons and other
southern cities, all of which have been eager to honor themselves by
returning him as their representative, as one of the boldest and most
eloquent Republicans in all France; as for Madame Dantes, we know her to
have once been the Countess de Morcerf, but now the wife of our friend,
and one of the noblest and most lovely matrons in Paris. What need have
we to know more? But our friend comes."
While this conversation was proceeding, Dantes and Mercedes had joined
each other, and their hands were quietly clasped.
"Is all well, Edmond?" was the anxious inquiry of the fond wife, in low,
soft, musical tones, as she fixed upon his pale face her dark eyes,
beaming with the tenderest solicitude.
"All is well, love," replied the husband. "You will pardon my protracted
absence, when I tell you it has been unavoidable--will you not,
Mercedes?"
"Will I not? What a question! But I have been so anxious for your
safety, knowing the perilous business in which you are engaged; and the
night is so tempestuous."
"You forget that I have a constitution of iron, dear," replied Dantes;
"you forget that I was a sailor once, and the storms were my
playthings!"
"But you will go home with me now, Edmond, will you not?" she anxiously
asked, placing her little white hand on his arm and gazing beseechingly
into his eyes.
"Have I ever passed one night from your arms, my Mercedes, since we
were wed?" was the whispered response. "Ah! love, any pillow but thy
soft bosom would be to me a thorny one! You have spoiled me forever!" he
added, smiling.
"And shall we go now, Edmond?" eagerly asked the delighted woman. "Oh!
I'm so weary of this fete!"
"I must exchange a few words with our friend Louis Blanc, whom I see
yonder, with others of our party, and then, dear, we will to our pillow.
We are both weary. Au revoir!"
"Edmond--Edmond!" cried the lady, as her husband was going, "do you see
Joliette and Louise in the redowa yonder?"
Dantes looked and, with a well pleased smile, nodded assent; a more
brilliant and well-matched pair could hardly have been found, Joliette
in the splendid uniform of an officer of the Spahis, and she in her own
magnificent beauty, fitly garbed.
M. Dantes was received with marked respect by the knot of Republicans as
he approached.
"I am delighted to meet you all, and to meet you to-night, or, rather,
this morning," said Dantes, warmly, "in order that I may render you an
account of my stewardship for the past six hours. They have been hours
big with fate; and the first day of Republican France has already
commenced. Messieurs, we can no longer remain blind to the fact that the
long looked for--hoped for--expected hour has come--the hour to
strike--strike home for liberty and for France! To-morrow the streets of
Paris will swarm with blouses!--the Marseillaise will be
heard!--barricades rise!--the Ministry be impeached! Next day the
National Guards will fraternize with the people!--blood will flow!--the
Ministry resign! On the third, the King abdicates!--the Tuileries are
surrendered!--a Regency is refused!--a Republic is declared! And this
day, two weeks hence, liberty will be shouted in the streets of Vienna
and Berlin, and every throne in Europe will tremble! The honors of
prophecy are easily won," continued the speaker, with a significant
smile that lighted up his features, pale with enthusiasm and exhaustion,
"when the problem of seventeen years approaches solution with
mathematical certainty!"
"Are our plans all complete?" asked Louis Blanc.
"So far as human forethought or power could render them so, our efforts
have, I trust, been effectual," was the reply. "Yet the events of every
hour will induce changes, and render indispensable policy now undreamed
of. Ah! Messieurs, we must none of us sleep now! Not a moment must
escape our vigilance! Not an advantage must be sacrificed! We can afford
to lose nothing! Without leaders, the people are blind! Not, for an
instant, must they be abandoned! To-morrow, let the masses gather at
different points! Next day let barricades choke the Boulevards; and, if
the conflict come not, be it precipitated--provoked! Thursday, an
hundred thousand men must invest the Tuileries, and a Provisional
Government be declared in the Chamber of Deputies! The Bourbons will
then be in full flight, and France will be free! And now, Messieurs,
will you permit me to suggest the propriety of our separation? Yonder
Ministerial Secretary has had his eye upon us ever since he entered."
The expediency of the suggestion of M. Dantes was at once perceived; the
conspirators parted and one after the other, by different routes,
shortly disappeared. As for M. Dantes, he threw himself carelessly in
the way of the Ministerial Secretary to whom he had alluded, who was no
other than our friend Lucien Debray, and saluted him with most marked
and winning courtesy.
"Will the Ministerial Secretary suffer me to compliment him upon his
indefatigable industry and exertions to-night to fortify order in Paris
and sustain the administration?"
Debray bowed somewhat confusedly at this remark, and having returned a
diplomatic reply, from which neither himself nor any one else could have
elicited an idea, M. Dantes continued the conversation.
"Let me see, it is now nearly three o'clock," he said, consulting his
repeater; "at half-past two you received an order, signed by the Duke of
Montpensier, and directed to the War Ministry, commanding that
seventy-two additional pieces of artillery be transported from Vincennes
to Paris before dawn. That order was issued, and the ordnance is now on
the boulevard!"
"How!" exclaimed the astonished Secretary.
"At Vincennes, the horses of the flying artillery stand harnessed in
their stalls! All night infantry have been pouring into Paris, and,
obedient to midnight orders, every railway will disgorge, at dawn,
additional troops!"
"Are you a magician?" asked the astonished Secretary.
"Shall I reveal to you the Ministerial tactics for the morrow's
apprehended insurrection?" coolly asked Dantes, with a smile. "The
salons of the Tuileries have not been deserted to-night. 'Can you quell
an insurrection, General?' asked the King of the Marshal Duke of Islay.
'I can kill thirty thousand men,' was the humane answer. 'And I, sire,
can preserve order in Paris without killing a score,' said Marshal
Gerard, the hero of Antwerp, 'if I can rely on my men.' 'What is your
plan, Marshal?' asked the King. Shall I give you the Marshal's reply, my
friend?"
"You were present--you know all!" exclaimed Debray.
"Not quite all," thought Dantes, "but I shall before we part. Well,"
continued he, aloud, "the Marshal's strategy was this--exceedingly
simple and exceedingly efficacious, too, provided, to use the Marshal's
own words, he can rely on his men. It is this: Occupy the Tuileries, the
Hotel de Ville, the Halles, the Louvre and other prominent points with a
heavy reserve of infantry and artillery, and sweep the boulevards, and
the Rues St. Honore, de Rivoli, St. Martin, St. Denis, Montmartre and
Richelieu with cavalry. A simple plan, is it not? Almost as simple as
that of the insurrectionists themselves--a barricade on every street and
one hundred thousand men in the Place du Carrousel!"
"The Government will not yield, Monsieur!" said Debray, firmly. "The
Minister is unshaken. To crush an unarmed mob cannot severely tax the
most skillful generals in Europe."
"True, they are unarmed," returned Dantes, with apparent seriousness.
"Their leaders should have thought of that--arms are so easily
provided--but then they can rely on their men!"
"We have yet to see that!" replied Debray, with some asperity.
"True, we have yet to see it. It is only a matter of belief now; then it
will be a matter of knowledge. Seeing is knowing," added M. Dantes, with
his peculiar smile. "But, pray, assure me, M. Debray, are the Ministry
and their advisers, indeed, sanguine of the issue to-morrow!"
"They are certain!" replied the Secretary, with energy. Then, feeling
that he had, perhaps, made a dangerous revelation, he quickly added: "I
have the honor, Monsieur, to wish you a very good night! It is late!"
"Say, rather, it is early, Monsieur!" replied Dantes. "I have the honor
to wish you a very good morning!"
The Secretary returned the courtesy, turned away, and, after exchanging
a few words with M. Thiers, disappeared.
"They are certain, then!" soliloquized M. Dantes, as Debray quitted the