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Updated: June 10, 2025
Fanfar and Goutran were silent, as we have said, for the same question was upon the lips of both men, and both knew that there was no answer. Had not the Count said, "If any peril demands my presence summon me, and within three days I will be with you." And it would be precisely three days at midnight since Fanfar sent the summons. Would he come?
"Will you allow me to present to you the Vicomte de Monte-Cristo?" asked Goutran. "Is he the son of the celebrated Count?" Carmen replied, looking at the young man with curiosity. "Precisely, and one of the best fellows in the world." "Is that the reason you let him stand there all by himself?" she asked with an étourderie that did not seem quite natural.
She looked very lovely in the moonlight, and Goutran was young and passionately in love. Carmen still leaned on his arm. She murmured softly: "How delicious it is here!" He slipped his arm around her waist, and as she threw back her head to look up at the moon, Goutran leaned forward and kissed her. Let her who is without sin throw the first stone!
"Benedetto never told me," answered Sanselme. Fanfar went to the mad woman, who was crouching near the door. "Who are you?" he said. "What is your name?" She laughed in a stupid way. "I have no name, I am dead!" Goutran was really in love, although for a time his attention had been distracted by the strange affair of Jane Zeld.
He had caught her words as he passed, and hazarded this allusion, somewhat too broad, perhaps, to the visit paid by the Duchess to Titian, when she was painted in the costume of mother Eve. He undoubtedly supposed that the young lady would not understand his remark, and yet it was plain that she with difficulty restrained a laugh. She led Goutran to the picture gallery.
Goutran and Esperance went out together from the little hôtel in the avenue Montaugne. Slowly and without talking they walked on side by side. The moon had gone down; it was one of those soft, starry nights which are so delicious. The Champs Elysées was deserted. Suddenly Goutran exclaimed, "It is best to go on with it, I am sure!" Esperance looked at his friend in surprise.
"There won't be a corner in which I shall not put my nose, be sure of that!" cried Coucon. "Oh! if the Count were only here!" sighed Madame. Fanfar was alone with Bobichel and Goutran. "Have you anything to suggest?" he said, suddenly turning to Goutran. "Do you know of any secret egress from this hôtel?" "None whatever," answered the artist.
But when he glanced at the signature he with difficulty refrained from a cry of surprise. The note was signed, "Carmen de L ." These were its contents: "MONSIEUR GOUTRAN or will you allow me to call you my friend I must see you at once on matters of vast importance. To-night, at eleven o'clock, I shall expect you. Ring at the side door of the hôtel; my maid will be in attendance.
At ten o'clock he was already walking up and down a street which commanded a view of the Hôtel Laisangy, but he felt none of the emotion natural to a lover going to a rendezvous. He had a feeling of strange oppression. Finally the clock struck eleven. The side door was on the Rue Saint Honoré. Goutran was about to ring the bell, when the door was opened and a hand was laid on his.
For a fortnight, managers and directors were on the qui vive, but as a poetical personage of importance took this time to commit suicide, the name of Jane Zeld was gradually forgotten. When two days before his fête, Goutran received a perfumed note in which Jane offered to sing for him, he was charmed.
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