Monte-Cristo's Daughter
"What!" cried Mlle. d' Armilly, with augmented anger. "You saw it, read
my very words, and yet brought him to your box?"
"Listen, Louise, and be reasonable. He told me that your name seemed
familiar to him and yet he could not recall where or under what
circumstances he had heard it. He was astonished at the tone of your
reply to his formal and, I must say, very civil note. I was sure there
must be some mistake on your part, that you had confounded him with some
other person. I had gone to the Palazzo Costi expressly to invite him to
hear you sing, to have such a great man present and assist at your
triumph! I felt proud of you, Louise, proud of you as an artiste and as
a woman, and I wanted my friend of friends to share my exalted
appreciation of you. Such were the reasons that induced me to bring him
to my box to-night, and, surely, if I committed an error, I deserve
pardon for my motives!"
"I will never pardon you, be your motives what they may!" cried Mlle. d'
Armilly, vindictively. "His presence ruined the performance and
disgraced me, me, Louise d' Armilly, in the eyes of all Rome!"
The Captain stood speechless, appalled by her fury. White with rage, her
eyes flashing and her bosom heaving, she looked like some beautiful
demon.
"I would have triumphed as usual had he not been here," she continued,
furiously and bitterly, "and to-morrow the Eternal City would have been
at my feet, I would have been an acknowledged queen, nay, even greater
than any sovereign alive, but now I have failed and am nothing! Captain
Joliette, for all this you are to blame, and yet you think you deserve
pardon for your motives! Why, man, you are worse than an idiot! No, I
will never pardon you, never!"
She strode about the dressing-room as she spoke, her small, white hands
working as if ready to tear the young soldier to pieces. Joliette
watched her for an instant and then said:
"You are a singular creature, Louise, a problem that I must admit I
cannot solve. What is the Count of Monte-Cristo to you that you swoon at
the mere sight of him? You certainly could not have been in any way
associated with his past life, have suffered from the signal vengeance
he took upon his enemies years ago!"
Mlle. d' Armilly paused suddenly in her excited walk, and, seizing the
Captain by the arm with so strong a clutch that a thrill of pain shot
through him, cried, menacingly:
"If you dare to mention Monte-Cristo's fiendish vengeance to me again, I
will banish you forever from my presence!"
At that moment one of the officials of the theatre appeared at the
dressing-room door.
"A note for mademoiselle," said he, bowing profoundly.
The prima donna took the missive from the man and glanced at the
address upon the envelope. As she did so, she knitted her brows and
cried out:
"His handwriting! Another insult! I will not read it!"
The official withdrew in confusion.
"Whose handwriting?" asked Joliette, his curiosity and jealousy
simultaneously excited. Mlle. d' Armilly had frequently referred to her
numerous admirers and the letters she received from them, and the
Captain naturally jumped to the conclusion that this note had been sent
by some ardent Roman suitor. He considered the artiste's exclamation and
assumption of displeasure as mere artful tricks designed to deceive him.
"Whose handwriting?" repeated Mlle. d' Armilly; scornfully. "Must I
explain everything to you?"
The young man had borne all his companion in her anger had heaped upon
him with comparative equanimity, but he could not bear the idea of a
rival, the very thought was torture.
"Louise," he pleaded, "let me see that letter, let me read it."
"What! Must you needs examine my private correspondence! Captain
Joliette, you are going too far! You have done enough to-night, without
adding insult to injury!"
"I did not seek to injure you, Louise, God knows! Neither do I wish to
insult you; but that letter I must and will read!"
"You talk as if I were already your wife and slave. Adopt another and
less authoritative tone, monsieur. Captain Joliette, you are not yet my
husband!"
"Would that I were and were sure of your love, Louise! The continual
uncertainty in which you keep me is insupportable! You refuse to let me
read that letter?"
The young man, in his turn, began to pace the dressing-room excitedly,
his jealous suspicions growing stronger and stronger.
Mlle. d' Armilly gazed at him triumphantly. She was proud of the vast
influence she exercised over this brave and manly warrior. He would
stand unmoved before the cannon's mouth, but she could make him quail
and tremble!
"You refuse to let me read that letter?" he repeated.
"What if I do not refuse?" said she, in a softer tone.
"You will make me a very happy man!"
"Then read it, for I will not! Thus I show my contempt for its miserable
and cowardly author!"
She crumpled the note in her hand and cast it on the floor. Then she
placed her foot upon it.
Joliette stooped and took it from beneath her boot. He straightened out
the envelope, opened it, removed the missive and read as follows:
"The Count of Monte-Cristo presents his respects to Mlle. d' Armilly,
and begs leave to express his deep regret that his presence in Captain
Joliette's box was the cause of such a grave catastrophe. He is utterly
at a loss to realize why Mlle. d' Armilly should entertain so profound
an aversion for him, and why the sight of him should so seriously affect
her. If Mlle. d' Armilly would condescend to explain, he would regard it
as a special favor. He trusts that Captain Joliette will in nowise be
blamed for what has occurred, as that gentleman, when he invited the
Count to share his box, was as thoroughly convinced as the Count himself
that Mlle. d' Armilly did not know and would not recognize him."
As Joliette read the last lines that so completely cleared him, he could
not suppress an exclamation of joy.
"Louise," he cried, "the Count of Monte-Cristo has written to exculpate
me!"
"Indeed!" replied the prima donna, contemptuously.
"Yes; he also apologizes to you and asks you to explain why the sight of
him so seriously affects you."
"He asks an explanation, does he?" cried Mlle. d' Armilly, her anger
resuming sway. "He shall never have one!"
"But you will pardon me, as you see I am altogether blameless?"
"I will hold your pardon under advisement, Captain. My action towards
you will be greatly influenced by your future conduct in regard to the
wretch who calls himself Monte-Cristo!"
"You surely do not wish me to cast him off, to shun him?"
"Do you prefer him to me?"
"I love you, Louise, love you better than anything or anybody else in
the whole world! But I greatly esteem the Count of Monte-Cristo. There
are ties between us that you do not understand."
"I do not care to understand them. I have told you that this man is my
enemy. That should be sufficient for you. My lover and my enemy cannot
be friends. Choose between us!"
"Would you have me quarrel with him?"
"Quarrel with him? Yes; and not only that! I would have you fight him,
kill him!"
The young man stood aghast. He was totally unprepared for this
explosion, this savage, vindictive demand.
"Fight him, kill him, Louise! You cannot, you do not mean what you say!"
"Am I in the habit of using idle words?"
"Louise, Louise, I entreat you, do not impose such horrible conditions
upon me!"
"Are you afraid of Monte-Cristo?"
"I am afraid of no man living, Louise; but I cannot challenge
Monte-Cristo to a duel even for you!"
"Then you refuse to protect, to champion me?"
"Oh! Louise, how can you speak thus! I would gladly shed every drop of
blood in my veins for you, gladly lay down my life for you, but do not
ask me to lift a hand against the Count of Monte-Cristo!"
The beautiful woman looked at the energetic speaker haughtily and
discontentedly. She was not a little disappointed. She had thought her
influence over her suitor unbounded, but now it appeared that it had
its limits. She, however, did not despair. Well knowing the wonderful
fascination she possessed for men, she determined to bring all its
batteries to bear upon Captain Joliette. She was bent on wreaking a
terrible vengeance upon the Count of Monte-Cristo for some mysterious
injury he had inflicted on her in the past, an injury in regard to which
she refused to be communicative even to her accepted lover, and was
resolved that Joliette should give the highest proof of his devotion to
her by becoming the instrument of that vengeance.
With the shrewdness of an experienced woman of the world, she readily
saw that a special effort would be required on her part to bend the
gallant soldier to her will and compel him to execute her inexorable
purpose. She would make that special effort and, in making it, would
render herself so captivating, so enticing, so desirable that Joliette
could not fail to be intoxicated with her charms and fascinations. Then
under the mad sway of his blind passion, excited to the utmost, he would
be ready to do anything for her, anything, even to the commission of a
crime, even to shedding the blood of his dearest friend!
At this juncture Mlle. d' Armilly, turning from the Captain as if in
high displeasure, for it was an important part of her plan to assume a
certain degree of coldness towards him at first, touched a bell and
immediately her brother Leon and her maid appeared.
"Franchette," she said, addressing the latter, "assist me with my street
toilet. I have sufficiently recovered to return to the Hotel de France."
Unmindful of the presence of the Captain and Leon, the designing prima
donna at once began to remove the costume she had worn during the opera.
The maid aided her in this operation with the outward impassibility of
theatrical servants, though she imperceptibly smiled as she realized
that this display of her mistress' personal charms was made solely for
the purpose of rendering the young soldier still more the slave of that
artful siren.
As Mlle. d' Armilly stood in her corset and clinging skirts of spotless
white that delicately outlined her faultless shape, her fine throat,
shoulders and arms displaying their glowing brilliancy, Captain Joliette
gazed at her like one entranced. Never in all his life, he thought, had
he looked upon a woman so thoroughly beautiful, so goddess-like. She was
as perfect as a painting of Venus, and a thousand times more lovely for
being alive. He held his breath as he saw her bosom palpitate and felt
that he would give all he possessed in the world to call her his own, to
be with her forever.
Leon seemed somewhat abashed by his sister's proceeding and blushed like
a girl, the crimson tide giving his countenance a beauty altogether
feminine.
The toilet operation completed, Mlle. d' Armilly surveyed herself
triumphantly in the mirror. She was well aware that she had riveted her
chains very tightly upon her lover, but, for all that, she could tell
only by actual experiment if he were sufficiently under her dominion to
accede to her wishes concerning the Count of Monte-Cristo. Hence she
determined to make that experiment without delay, ere cool reflection
had come to the dazzled warrior's aid and enabled him to realize that a
trap had been laid for him.
Quitting the mirror, she went to Captain Joliette's side and, placing
her hand on his arm, as she threw into his eyes all the magnetism of her
glance, said, in a dulcet tone:
"Will you accompany me to the hotel, Captain?"
The young man joyously assented, and soon an elegant equipage was
bearing him swiftly towards the prima donna's apartments.
CHAPTER V.
ANNUNZIATA SOLARA.
It was a bright, warm afternoon in spring, and the Piazza del Popolo,