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Updated: June 18, 2025
Andrea ran to the other door, leading to the gallery, ready to rush out; but he was stopped short, and he stood with his body a little thrown back, pale, and with the useless knife in his clinched hand. "Fly, then!" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whose pity returned as her fears diminished; "fly!"
"Is there then no shadow of a hope?" at length asked Joliette, in a hoarse whisper. "Not the shadow of a hope!" replied Mlle. d'Armilly, firmly. "You can be my friend, my brother, if you will, but never my husband." The young man recoiled in horror at the suggestion that seemed to be conveyed by this permission. "What do you mean by friend?" he asked, a cold shiver passing through him.
"Have you had it sent where we are to go for it?" "Yes." "Our passport?" "Here it is." And Eugenie, with her usual precision, opened a printed paper, and read, "M. Leon d'Armilly, twenty years of age; profession, artist; hair black, eyes black; travelling with his sister." "Capital! How did you get this passport?"
"But I cannot," said she; "I am not strong enough; do you shut it." "Ah, you do well to ask," said Eugenie, laughing; "I forgot that I was Hercules, and you only the pale Omphale!" And the young girl, kneeling on the top, pressed the two parts of the portmanteau together, and Mademoiselle d'Armilly passed the bolt of the padlock through.
And he sighed deeply. The calash contained Mademoiselle Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly. "Hurry, hurry!" said Andrea, "we must overtake him soon." And the poor horse resumed the desperate gallop it had kept up since leaving the barrier, and arrived steaming at Louvres. "Certainly," said Andrea, "I shall not overtake my friend, but I shall kill your horse, therefore I had better stop.
She was said to have a weak chest, and like Antonia in the "Cremona Violin," she would die one day while singing. Monte Cristo cast one rapid and curious glance round this sanctum; it was the first time he had ever seen Mademoiselle d'Armilly, of whom he had heard much. "Well," said the banker to his daughter, "are we then all to be excluded?"
All fashionable Paris was excited over the announcement of a new prima donna, whose wonderful achievements in Italian opera had set even the exacting critics of Italy wild with enthusiasm and delight. This great artiste was no other than the renowned Louise d'Armilly.
Even the masses, notwithstanding the political agitation in which they were involved, had caught the prevailing excitement, and the leaders of the contending parties themselves paused amid their heated discussions to talk of Louise d'Armilly. The career of this young and beautiful artiste had been remarkable.
Near her was Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who thanked the count for the letters of introduction he had so kindly given her for Italy, which she intended immediately to make use of. On leaving these ladies he found himself with Danglars, who had advanced to meet him.
The next day they stopped at the Hotel de Flandre, at Brussels. The same evening Andrea was incarcerated in the Conciergerie. The Law. We have seen how quietly Mademoiselle Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly accomplished their transformation and flight; the fact being that every one was too much occupied in his or her own affairs to think of theirs.
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