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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Not at all," said Chateau-Renaud, slowly; "I think he is violently agitated. He is very susceptible." "Bah," said Debray; "he scarcely knew Mademoiselle de Villefort; you said so yourself." "True. Still I remember he danced three times with her at Madame de Morcerf's. Do you recollect that ball, count, where you produced such an effect?"
"It is she!" "Whom do you mean?" "They said she had left." "Mademoiselle Eugenie?" said Chateau-Renaud; "has she returned?" "No, but her mother." "Madame Danglars? Nonsense! Impossible!" said Chateau-Renaud; "only ten days after the flight of her daughter, and three days from the bankruptcy of her husband?" Debray colored slightly, and followed with his eyes the direction of Beauchamp's glance.
"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued Chateau-Renaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him; to-day let us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you breakfast, Albert?" "At half-past ten." "Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch.
Most probably Morrel and Chateau-Renaud returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the gallery of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of the Rue Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with Debray.
The gate once closed, and Debray and the baroness alone in the court, he asked, "What was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so affected at that story, or rather fable, which the count related?" "Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, my friend," said the baroness.
"What chance brings you here, gentlemen?" said Chateau-Renaud, shaking hands with each of them. "Because," said Debray, "Albert sent this morning to request us to come." Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud exchanged looks of astonishment. "I think I understand his reason," said Morrel. "What is it?" "Yesterday afternoon I received a letter from M. de Morcerf, begging me to attend the opera."
We will leave the banker contemplating the enormous magnitude of his debt before the phantom of bankruptcy, and follow the baroness, who after being momentarily crushed under the weight of the blow which had struck her, had gone to seek her usual adviser, Lucien Debray.
But to you, at least, M. Debray, I need not give a further description, because to you my beautiful pair of dappled grays were well known. Well, I had promised Madame de Villefort the loan of my carriage to drive to-morrow to the Bois; but when my coachman goes to fetch the grays from the stables they are gone positively gone.
Then aloud, "Oh, madame, M. Danglars is so skilful, he will soon regain at the Bourse what he loses elsewhere." "I see that you participate in a prevalent error," said Madame Danglars. "What is it?" said Monte Cristo. "That M. Danglars speculates, whereas he never does." "Truly, madame, I recollect M. Debray told me apropos, what is become of him?
In one of the mourning-coaches Beauchamp, Debray, and Chateau-Renaud were talking of the very sudden death of the marchioness. "I saw Madame de Saint-Meran only last year at Marseilles, when I was coming back from Algiers," said Chateau-Renaud; "she looked like a woman destined to live to be a hundred years old, from her apparent sound health and great activity of mind and body. How old was she?"
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