MEANWHILE M. Cavalcanti the elder had returned to his service, not in the army of his majesty the Emperor of Austria, but at the gaming-table of the baths of Lucca, of which he was one of the most assiduous courtiers. He had spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari. He was now fairly launched in that Parisian society which gives such ready access to foreigners, and treats them, not as they really are, but as they wish to be considered. Besides, what is required of a young man in Paris? To speak its language tolerably, to make a good appearance, to be a good gamester, and to pay in cash. They are certainly less particular with a foreigner than with a Frenchman. Andrea had, then, in a fortnight, attained a very fair position. He was called count, he was said to possess 50,000 livres per annum; and his father's immense riches, buried in the quarries of Saravezza, were a constant theme. A learned man, before whom the last circumstance was mentioned as a fact, declared he had seen the quarries in question, which gave great weight to assertions hitherto somewhat doubtful, but which now assumed the garb of reality.
Such was the state of society in Paris at the period we bring before our readers, when Monte Cristo went one evening to pay M. Danglars a visit. M. Danglars was out, but the count was asked to go and see the baroness, and he accepted the invitation. It was never without a nervous shudder, since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo's name announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became most intense; if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should entertain evil designs against her; besides, the most corrupt minds only suspect evil when it would answer some interested end--useless injury is repugnant to every mind. When Monte Cristo entered the boudoir,--to which we have already once introduced our readers, and where the baroness was examining some drawings, which her daughter passed to her after having looked at them with M. Cavalcanti,--his presence soon produced its usual effect, and it was with smiles that the baroness received the count, although she had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance.
The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugénie sat near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs launched in the same direction.
Mademoiselle Danglars was still the same--cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her; they might have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of Sappho. Eugénie bowed coldly to the count, and availed herself of the first moment when the conversation became earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, her singing teacher.
It was then, especially while conversing with Madame Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend, until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life.
"Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?" said Danglars to Andrea.
"Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones.
Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened it.
The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a fancy to which they had accustomed themselves, and performed admirably. Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whom they then perceived through the open doorway, formed with Eugénie one of the tableaux vivants of which the Germans are so fond. She was somewhat beautiful, and exquisitely formed--a little fairy-like figure, with large curls falling on her neck, which was rather too long, as Perugino sometimes makes his Virgins, and her eyes dull from fatigue. 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?" He then led the young man into the study, and either by chance or manoeuvre the door was partially closed after Andrea, so that from the place where they sat neither the Count nor the baroness could see anything; but as the banker had accompanied Andrea, Madame Danglars appeared to take no notice of it.
The count soon heard Andrea's voice, singing a Corsican song, accompanied by the piano. While the count smiled at hearing this song, which made him lose sight of Andrea in the recollection of Benedetto, Madame Danglars was boasting to Monte Cristo of her husband's strength of mind, who that very morning had lost three or four hundred thousand francs by a failure at Milan. The praise was well deserved, for had not the count heard it from the baroness, or by one of those means by which he knew everything, the baron's countenance would not have led him to suspect it. "Hem," thought Monte Cristo, "he begins to conceal his losses; a month since he boasted of them." 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? I have seen nothing of him the last three or four days."
"Nor I," said Madame Danglars; "but you began a sentence, sir, and did not finish."
"Which?"
"M. Debray had told you"--
"Ah, yes; he told me it was you who sacrificed to the demon of speculation."
"I was once very fond of it, but I do not indulge now."
"Then you are wrong, madame. Fortune is precarious; and if I were a woman and fate had made me a banker's wife, whatever might be my confidence in my husband's good fortune, still in speculation you know there is great risk. Well, I would secure for myself a fortune independent of him, even if I acquired it by placing my interests in hands unknown to him." Madame Danglars blushed, in spite of all her efforts. "Stay," said Monte Cristo, as though he had not observed her confusion, "I have heard of a lucky hit that was made yesterday on the Neapolitan bonds."
"I have none--nor have I ever possessed any; but really we have talked long enough of money, count, we are like two stockbrokers; have you heard how fate is persecuting the poor Villeforts?"
"What has happened?" said the count, simulating total ignorance.
"You know the Marquis of Saint-Méran died a few days after he had set out on his journey to Paris, and the marchioness a few days after her arrival?"
"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I have heard that; but, as Claudius said to Hamlet, 'it is a law of nature; their fathers died before them, and they mourned their loss; they will die before their children, who will, in their turn, grieve for them.'"
"But that is not all."
"Not all!" "No; they were going to marry their daughter"--
"To M. Franz d'Epinay. Is it broken off?"
"Yesterday morning, it appears, Franz declined the honor."
"Indeed? And is the reason known?"
"No."
"How extraordinary! And how does M. de Villefort bear it?"
"As usual. Like a philosopher." Danglars returned at this moment alone. "Well," said the baroness, "do you leave M. Cavalcanti with your daughter?"
"And Mademoiselle d'Armilly," said the banker; "do you consider her no one?" Then, turning to Monte Cristo, he said, "Prince Cavalcanti is a charming young man, is he not? But is he really a prince?"
"I will not answer for it," said Monte Cristo. "His father was introduced to me as a marquis, so he ought to be a count; but I do not think he has much claim to that title."
"Why?" said the banker. "If he is a prince, he is wrong not to maintain his rank; I do not like any one to deny his origin."
"Oh, you are a thorough democrat," said Monte Cristo, smiling.
"But do you see to what you are exposing yourself?" said the baroness. "If, perchance, M. de Morcerf came, he would find M. Cavalcanti in that room, where he, the betrothed of Eugénie, has never been admitted."
"You may well say, perchance," replied the banker; "for he comes so seldom, it would seem only chance that brings him."
"But should he come and find that young man with your daughter, he might be displeased."
"He? You are mistaken. M. Albert would not do us the honor to be jealous; he does not like Eugénie sufficiently. Besides, I care not for his displeasure."
"Still, situated as we are"--
"Yes, do you know how we are situated? At his mother's ball he danced once with Eugénie, and M. Cavalcanti three times, and he took no notice of it." The valet announced the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. The baroness rose hastily, and was going into the study, when Danglars stopped her. "Let her alone," said he. She looked at him in amazement. Monte Cristo appeared to be unconscious of what passed. Albert entered, looking very handsome and in high spirits. He bowed politely to the baroness, familiarly to Danglars, and affectionately to Monte Cristo. Then turning to the baroness: "May I ask how Mademoiselle Danglars is?" said he.
"She is quite well," replied Danglars quickly; "she is at the piano with M. Cavalcanti." Albert retained his calm and indifferent manner; he might feel perhaps annoyed, but he knew Monte Cristo's eye was on him. "M. Cavalcanti has a fine tenor voice," said he, "and Mademoiselle Eugénie a splendid soprano, and then she plays the piano like Thalberg. The concert must be a delightful one."
"They suit each other remarkably well," said Danglars. Albert appeared not to notice this remark, which was, however, so rude that Madame Danglars blushed.
"I, too," said the young man, "am a musician--at least, my masters used to tell me so; but it is strange that my voice never would suit any other, and a soprano less than any." Danglars smiled, and seemed to say, "It is of no consequence." Then, hoping doubtless to effect his purpose, he said,--"The prince and my daughter were universally admired yesterday. You were not of the party, M. de Morcerf?"
"What prince?" asked Albert. "Prince Cavalcanti," said Danglars, who persisted in giving the young man that title.
"Pardon me," said Albert, "I was not aware that he was a prince. And Prince Cavalcanti sang with Mademoiselle Eugénie yesterday? It must have been charming, indeed. I regret not having heard them. But I was unable to accept your invitation, having promised to accompany my mother to a German concert given by the Baroness of Chateau-Renaud." This was followed by rather an awkward silence. "May I also be allowed," said Morcerf, "to pay my respects to Mademoiselle Danglars?" "Wait a moment," said the banker, stopping the young man; "do you hear that delightful cavatina? Ta, ta, ta, ti, ta, ti, ta, ta; it is charming, let them finish--one moment. Bravo, bravi, brava!" The banker was enthusiastic in his applause.
"Indeed," said Albert, "it is exquisite; it is impossible to understand the music of his country better than Prince Cavalcanti does. You said prince, did you not? But he can easily become one, if he is not already; it is no uncommon thing in Italy. But to return to the charming musicians--you should give us a treat, Danglars, without telling them there is a stranger. Ask them to sing one more song; it is so delightful to hear music in the distance, when the musicians are unrestrained by observation."
Danglars was quite annoyed by the young man's indifference. He took Monte Cristo aside. "What do you think of our lover?" said he.
"He appears cool. But, then your word is given."
"Yes, doubtless I have promised to give my daughter to a man who loves her, but not to one who does not. See him there, cold as marble and proud like his father. If he were rich, if he had Cavalcanti's fortune, that might be pardoned. Ma foi, I haven't consulted my daughter; but if she has good taste"--
"Oh," said Monte Cristo, "my fondness may blind me, but I assure you I consider Morcerf a charming young man who will render your daughter happy and will sooner or later attain a certain amount of distinction, and his father's position is good."
"Hem," said Danglars.
"Why do you doubt?"
"The past--that obscurity on the past."
"But that does not affect the son."
"Very true."
"Now, I beg of you, don't go off your head. It's a month now that you have been thinking of this marriage, and you must see that it throws some responsibility on me, for it was at my house you met this young Cavalcanti, whom I do not really know at all."
"But I do."
"Have you made inquiry?"
"Is there any need of that! Does not his appearance speak for him? And he is very rich."
"I am not so sure of that."
"And yet you said he had money."
"Fifty thousand livres--a mere trifle."
"He is well educated."
"Hem," said Monte Cristo in his turn.
"He is a musician."
"So are all Italians."
"Come, count, you do not do that young man justice."
"Well, I acknowledge it annoys me, knowing your connection with the Morcerf family, to see him throw himself in the way." Danglars burst out laughing. "What a Puritan you are!" said he; "that happens every day."
"But you cannot break it off in this way; the Morcerfs are depending on this union."
"Indeed."
"Positively."
"Then let them explain themselves; you should give the father a hint, you are so intimate with the family."
"I?--where the devil did you find out that?"
"At their ball; it was apparent enough. Why, did not the countess, the proud Mercédès, the disdainful Catalane, who will scarcely open her lips to her oldest acquaintances, take your arm, lead you into the garden, into the private walks, and remain there for half an hour?"
"Ah, baron, baron," said Albert, "you are not listening--what barbarism in a melomaniac like you!"
"Oh, don't worry about me, Sir Mocker," said Danglars; then turning to the count he said, "but will you undertake to speak to the father?"
"Willingly, if you wish it."
"But let it be done explicitly and positively. If he demands my daughter let him fix the day--declare his conditions; in short, let us either understand each other, or quarrel. You understand--no more delay."
"Yes. sir, I will give my attention to the subject."
"I do not say that I await with pleasure his decision, but I do await it. A banker must, you know, be a slave to his promise." And Danglars sighed as M. Cavalcanti had done half an hour before. "Bravi, bravo, brava!" cried Morcerf, parodying the banker, as the selection came to an end. Danglars began to look suspiciously at Morcerf, when some one came and whispered a few words to him. "I shall soon return," said the banker to Monte Cristo; "wait for me. I shall, perhaps, have something to say to you." And he went out.
The baroness took advantage of her husband's absence to push open the door of her daughter's study, and M. Andrea, who was sitting before the piano with Mademoiselle Eugénie, started up like a jack-in-the-box. Albert bowed with a smile to Mademoiselle Danglars, who did not appear in the least disturbed, and returned his bow with her usual coolness. Cavalcanti was evidently embarrassed; he bowed to Morcerf, who replied with the most impertinent look possible. Then Albert launched out in praise of Mademoiselle Danglars' voice, and on his regret, after what he had just heard, that he had been unable to be present the previous evening. Cavalcanti, being left alone, turned to Monte Cristo.
"Come," said Madame Danglars, "leave music and compliments, and let us go and take tea."
"Come, Louise," said Mademoiselle Danglars to her friend. They passed into the next drawing-room, where tea was prepared. Just as they were beginning, in the English fashion, to leave the spoons in their cups, the door again opened and Danglars entered, visibly agitated. Monte Cristo observed it particularly, and by a look asked the banker for an explanation. "I have just received my courier from Greece," said Danglars.
"Ah, yes," said the count; "that was the reason of your running away from us."
"Yes."
"How is King Otho getting on?" asked Albert in the most sprightly tone. Danglars cast another suspicious look towards him without answering, and Monte Cristo turned away to conceal the expression of pity which passed over his features, but which was gone in a moment. "We shall go together, shall we not?" said Albert to the count.
"If you like," replied the latter. Albert could not understand the banker's look, and turning to Monte Cristo, who understood it perfectly,--"Did you see," said he, "how he looked at me?"
"Yes," said the count; "but did you think there was anything particular in his look?"
"Indeed, I did; and what does he mean by his news from Greece?"
"How can I tell you?"
"Because I imagine you have correspondents in that country." Monte Cristo smiled significantly.
"Stop," said Albert, "here he comes. I shall compliment Mademoiselle Danglars on her cameo, while the father talks to you."
"If you compliment her at all, let it be on her voice, at least," said Monte Cristo.
"No, every one would do that."
"My dear viscount, you are dreadfully impertinent." Albert advanced towards Eugénie, smiling. Meanwhile, Danglars, stooping to Monte Cristo's ear, "Your advice was excellent," said he; "there is a whole history connected with the names Fernand and Yanina."
"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo.
"Yes, I will tell you all; but take away the young man; I cannot endure his presence."
"He is going with me. Shall I send the father to you?"
"Immediately."
此时，老卡瓦尔康蒂先生已经回来，不是回到奥地利皇帝陛下的军队里去服役，而是回到卢卡的澡堂的赌桌上，因为他过去就是那儿最坚定的顾客之一。他这次出门旅行，把用威严的态度扮演一个父亲所得的报酬花得一干二净。他离开的时候，他把所有的证明文件都交给安德烈先生，证实后者的确是巴陀罗术奥侯爵和奥丽伐·高塞奈黎侯爵小姐的儿子。巴黎社交界本来就非常愿意接纳外国人，而且并不按照他们的实际身份对待他们，而是以他们所希望有的身份对待他们，所以安德烈先生现在已很顺利地打进了社交界。而且，一个青年人在巴黎所需要的条件是什么呢？只要他的法语过得去，只要他的仪表堂堂，只要他是一个技巧很高的赌客，并且用现款付赌账，那就足够了。这些条件对外国人和法国人其实并没有区别。所以，在两个星期之内，安德烈已获得了一个非常称心的地位。他人称子爵阁下，据说他每年有五万里弗的收益；大家还常常说他父有一笔巨大的财富埋藏在塞拉维柴的采石场里。至于最后这一点，人们最初谈起的时候还没有把它真当回事，但后来有一位学者宣称他曾见过那些采石场，他的话给那个当时多少还有点不确实的话题增加了很大的确实性，为它披上了一层真实的外衣。
这就是我们向读者们介绍过的当时巴黎社交界的情形。
有天傍晚，基督山去拜访腾格拉尔先生。腾格拉尔出去了；但男爵夫人请伯爵进去，他就接受了欧特伊的那次晚餐以后和后来接着发生的那些事件发生以来，腾格拉尔夫人每次听仆人过来通报基督山的名字，总不免要神经质地打个寒颤。如果他不来，那种痛苦的心情就变得非常紧张：如果他来了，则他那高贵的相貌、那明亮的眼睛、那和蔼的态度以及他那殷勤关切的态度，不久就驱散了腾格拉尔夫人所有不安的情绪。
在男爵夫人看来，一个态度如此亲善可爱的人不可能对她心存不测。而且，即使是心术最不正的人，也只有在和她发生利害冲突的时候才会起坏心，否则，谁都不会平白地想起来害人。当基督山踏进那间我们向读者们介绍过一次的女主人会客室的时候，欧热妮小姐正在那儿和卡瓦尔康蒂先生一起欣赏几幅图画，他们看过以后，就传给男爵夫人看。伯爵的拜访不一会儿就产生了跟往常一样的效果；仆人来通报的时候，男爵夫人虽然略微有一点手足无措。但她还是笑着接待了伯爵。而后者只看了一眼就把整个情景尽收眼底。
男爵夫人斜靠在一张鸳鸯椅上，欧热妮坐在她身边，卡瓦尔康蒂则站着。卡瓦尔康蒂一身黑衣，象歌德诗歌里的主人公那样，穿着黑色皮鞋和镂花的白丝袜，一只很好看的雪白的手插在他那浅色的头发里，头发中间有一颗钻石闪闪放光，那是因为基督山虽曾好言相劝，但这位好虚荣的青年人却仍禁不住要在他的小手指上戴上一只钻戒。除了这个动作以外，他还时时向腾格拉尔小姐投送秋波和乞怜的叹息。腾格拉尔小姐还是一如既往——冷淡、漂亮和好讽刺，那种眼光和那种叹息，没有一次不经过她的眼睛和耳朵；但那种眼光和叹息可以说是落到了文艺女神密娜伐的盾牌上面——那副盾牌，据某些哲学家考证，好几次保护了希腊女诗人萨弗的胸膛。欧热妮冷淡地向伯爵鞠了一躬，寒喧之后，立刻借故逃到她的书斋里，不一会儿，那儿就有两个欢快的声音随着钢琴的旋律嘹亮地唱起歌来。基督山以此知道腾格拉尔小姐不愿意陪伴他和卡瓦尔康蒂先生而情愿和她的音乐教师罗茜·亚密莱小姐待在一起。
此时，伯爵一面和腾格拉尔夫人说着话，装出显然对说话十分感到兴趣的样子，一面却特别注意安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生那种怀念的神情，那种倾听他不敢进门的屋子里传来的音乐的样子，以及他那种倾慕的态度。银行家不久就回来了。他的目光是毫无疑问的落到基督山身上，而后就轮到安德烈。至于他的妻子，他用一些丈夫对妻子的那种仪礼向她鞠了一躬，即那种仪礼是未婚的男子们绝不能理解的，除非将来有关夫妻生活出版一部面面俱到的法典。
“小姐们没请您去和她们一起弹琴吗？”腾格拉尔对安德烈说。
“唉！没有，阁下。”安德烈叹了口气回答，这声叹息比前面几次更明显了。腾格拉尔立刻朝那扇门走去，把门打开。
两位青年小姐并排坐在钢琴前的椅子上，她们在互相伴奏，每人用一只手——她们很喜欢这样练习，而且已经配合得极其娴熟。从打开着的门口望进去，亚密莱小姐和欧热妮构成了一幅德国人非常喜欢的画面。她多少有几分姿色，非常文雅——身材还算不错，只是偏瘦了一点，大绺鬈发垂到她的脖子上（那脖子有点太长了，好象庇鲁杰诺所雕塑的某些仙女一样），眼睛懒散无神。据说她的胸部很健康，将来有一天，会象《克里蒙的小提琴》［《克里蒙的小提琴》是德国音乐家兼小说家霍夫曼（一七七六—一八二二）的小说，安东妮是小说的女主人公。——译注］中的安东妮那样死在歌唱上。
基督山向这间圣殿迅速又好奇地瞥了一眼；他以前曾听到过许多有关亚密莱小姐的话题，但目睹她，这还是第一次。
“噢！”银行家对他的女儿说，“把我们都冷落到一边了吗？”于是他就领着那个青年人走进书斋里去，并且不知究竟是巧合还是有意，安德烈进去以后，那扇门成了个半掩的状态，所以从伯爵或男爵夫人坐着的地方望过去，他们什么也看到见；但因为有银行家陪着安德烈，腾格拉尔夫人也就不去注意他们了。
不久伯爵就听到安德烈的声音，在钢琴的伴奏下，高唱一首科西嘉民歌。听到这个歌声，伯爵微笑起来，这使他忘记安德烈，想起贝尼代托，腾格拉尔夫人则向基督山夸奖她丈夫的坚强意志，因为那天早晨他刚刚因为梅朗的商务受挫而损失了三四十万法郎。这种夸奖确实是应得的，因为要不是伯爵从男爵夫人的口里听到这回事，或雇用用他那种洞察一切的方式去打听，单从男爵的脸上，他也不会怀疑到这一点。“哼！”基督山想道，“他开始隐瞒他的损失了，一个月以前，他大吹大擂，”于是他大声说，“噢，夫人，腾格拉尔先生非常能干，用不了多久他就会在证券交易所里把所有的损失都捞回来的。”
“我看您也有一个错误的念头，跟很多人一样。”腾格拉尔夫人说。
“什么念头？”基督山说。
“就是以为腾格拉尔先生做的是投机生意，而实际上他从来都没做过。”
“不错，夫人，我记得德布雷先生告诉我——等一下，他怎么啦？我有三四天没看见他了。”
“我也没看见他，”腾格拉尔夫人十分镇定自若地说，“可您那句话还没有说完。”
“什么话？”
“德布雷先生告诉您——”
“啊，是的，他告诉我说，投机上的失败，您是牺牲品。”
“我向来非常欢喜玩那一套，我承认，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“但我现在不玩了。”
“那么您就不对，夫人。命运是个确定的。如果我是一个女人，而且有福气成了一位银行家的太太，那么不论我对丈夫的好运多么信任——因为在投机生意上，您知道，完全是运气好坏的问题——嗯，我是说不论我对丈夫的运气多么放心，我还是要弄一笔和他没有关系的财产，即使得瞒着他让旁人经手，也在所不惜。”
腾格拉尔夫人虽然尽力自制，仍不禁脸红了一下。
“哦，”基督山好象是没有注意到她的这种惶惑的表情说，“我听说昨天那不勒斯公债一个劲儿往上涨。”
“我没买那种公债，我从来没有买过那种公债，我们是不是在金钱上谈得实在太多啦，伯爵。我们象是两个证券投机商了。您有没有听说过命运之神在如何迫害可怜的维尔福一家人？”
“什么事情？”伯爵说，显得茫然不知所措。
“圣·梅朗侯爵到巴黎来的时候，上路没有几天就死了，侯爵夫人到巴黎以后，没过几天也死了。您知道吗？”
“是的，”基督山说，“我听说过这件事。但是，正如克劳狄斯对哈姆雷特所说的，‘这是一条自然法则，他们的父母死在他们的前头，他们哀悼他们的逝世，将来他们也要死在他们儿女的前头，于是又要轮到他们的儿女来哀悼他们了。’？
“但事情不光这些呢。”
“不光这些！”
“不，他们的女儿本来要嫁给——”
“弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生。难道婚约解除了吗？”
“昨天早晨，看来，弗兰兹已经谢绝了这种荣尚。”
“真的，知不知道理由？”
“不知道。”
“真奇怪！这接二连三的不幸，维尔福先生怎么受得了呢？”
“他还是照常——象一个哲学家一样。”
这时腾格拉尔一个人回来了。
“哎！”男爵夫人说，“你把卡瓦尔康蒂先生丢给你的女儿了吗？”
“还有亚密莱小姐呢，”银行家说，那么你还以为她不是人吗？”然后他转身对基督山说，“卡瓦尔康蒂王子是一个很可爱的青年，对不对？可他真的是一位王子吗？”
“我没有责任答复您，”基督山说。“他们介绍我认识他父亲的时候，据说是一位侯爵，那么他应该是一个伯爵。但我想他似乎并不非得要那个头衔。”
“为什么？”银行家说。“如果他是一位王子，他就不应该不维持他的身份。每一个人都应该维护自己的权利，我不欢喜有什么人否认他的出身。”
“噢！您是一个十足民主派。”基督山微笑着说。
“可你看不出来你自己个儿的问题吗？”男爵夫人说，“如果，碰巧，马尔塞夫先生来了，他就会知道卡瓦尔康蒂先生在那个房间里，而他尽管是欧热妮的未婚夫，却从来没让他进去过。”
“碰巧这两个字你说得恰当，”银行家说道，“因为他很少到这儿来，如果真的来了，那才叫是碰巧呢。”
“可要是他来了，见到那个青年跟你的女儿在一起，他会不乐意呀。”
“他！你错啦。阿尔贝先生可不会赏我们这个脸，为他的未婚妻吃醋，他爱她还到不了那个程度呢。而且，他不乐意我也不在乎。”
“可是，按我们现在这种情况——”
“对，你知道我们现在的情况是怎么样的吗？在他母亲的舞会上，他只跟欧热妮跳了一次，而卡瓦尔康蒂先生却跳了三次，他压根儿不在乎。”
仆人通报马尔塞夫子爵来访。男爵夫人急忙站起来，想走到书斋里去，腾格拉尔拉住她。“别去！”他说。他吃惊地望着他。基督山好象没有注意到这些情形。阿尔贝进来了，他打扮得非常漂亮，看起来很快活。他很有礼貌地对男爵夫人鞠了一躬，对腾格拉尔如熟人一般地鞠一躬，对基督山则很亲热地鞠一躬。然后又转向男爵夫人说：“我可以问问腾格拉尔小姐好吗？”
“她很好，”腾格拉尔连忙回答，“她现在正在她的小客厅里和卡瓦尔康蒂先生练习唱歌。”
阿尔贝保持着他那种平静和漠不关心的样子；他也许心里气恼，但他知道基督山的眼光正盯着他。“卡瓦尔康蒂先生是一个很好的男中音，”他说，“而欧热妮小姐则是一个很棒的女高音，而且钢琴又弹得象泰尔堡［泰尔堡（一八一二—一八七一），瑞士著名钢琴家。——译注］一样妙。他们合唱起来一定是很好听的。”
“他们两个配起来非常妙。”腾格拉尔说。
这句话粗俗得都使腾格拉尔夫人面红耳赤，阿尔贝却好象没有注意到。
“我也算得上是一位音乐师，”那位青年说，“起码，我的老师常常这么对我说。可说来奇怪，我的嗓子跟谁都配不上来，尤其配不上女高音。”
腾格拉尔微笑了一下，好象是说，那没关系。然后，显然他很想取得他的效果，就说：“王子和我的女儿昨天大受赞赏。您没有来参加吧，马尔塞夫先生？”
“什么王子？”阿尔贝问。
“卡瓦尔康蒂王子呀。”腾格拉尔说，他坚持要这样称呼那个青年。
“对不起，”阿尔贝说，“我可不知道他是一位王子。那么昨天卡瓦尔康蒂王子和欧热妮小姐合唱了吗？不用说，那肯定很好听。很遗憾我没有到场。但我没法接受您的邀请，因为我已经答应陪着家母去参加夏多·勒诺伯爵夫人主持的德国音乐会。”这样，在沉默了一会儿以后，马尔塞夫又说，“我可以去向腾格拉尔小姐问好吗？”好象这件事以前从未有过似的。
“等一会儿，”银行家拦住那青年说，“您听到那支好听的小曲了吗？嗒嗒好听得很。等一下，让他们唱完再说吧！好！棒！棒哇！”银行家热烈地喝彩着。
“确实是，”阿尔贝说，“棒得很，没有谁比卡瓦尔康蒂王子更理解他祖国的歌曲了，‘王子’是您称呼的，对不对？可即使他现在还不是，将来也很轻易做上的。这种事情在意大利不算稀奇。我们再说说那两位可爱的音乐家吧，您得款待我们一次，腾格拉尔先生。别告诉他们来了一个陌生客人，让他们再唱一首歌。听歌应该在一小段距离以外才有意思，不让人看见，也不要看见人，这样就不会打扰歌唱者，使他可以自由自在地把他的灵感全部释放出来，让他的心灵无拘无束地任意驰骋。”
阿尔贝这种毫不上心的态度令腾格拉尔十分气恼。他把基督山拉到一边。“您觉着我们那位情人如何？”他说。
“他看上去很冷淡！但您的话已经说出口的了。”
“是的，当然喽，我答应把我的女儿嫁给一个爱她的男子，而不是给一个不爱她的人。即使阿尔贝跟卡瓦尔康蒂一样有钱，我也不会那么高兴地看到他娶她，他太傲慢了。”
“噢！”基督山说，“也许是我的偏爱让我盲目，但我可以向您保证，马尔塞夫先生是个很可爱的青年，他一定会使小姐很幸福，而且他迟早都会有点造就——他父亲的地位很不错。”
“哼！”腾格拉尔说。
“那有什么可怀疑的？”
“我指的是过去——过去那种贫贱的出身。”
“但一个父亲过去的生活影响不了他的儿子。”
“那倒是真的。”
“来，别固执了，一个月以前，您很希望结成这门亲事。您了解我——我难过的要命。您是在我的家里遇到那个小卡瓦尔康蒂的，关于他，我再向您说一遍，我可什么一无所知。”
“但我可知道几分。”
“您了解过了吗？”
“那还须得了解吗？对方是怎么样的人物，不是一眼就可以知道的吗？第一，他很有钱。”
“这一点我可不能确定。”
“但您对他负责的呀。”
“负责五万里弗——小意思。”
“他受过出色的教育。”
“哼！”这次可是基督山这样说了。
“他是一个音乐家。”
“所有的意大利人都是音乐家。”
“我说，伯爵，您对那个青年人可不公平。”
“嗯，我承认这件事让我很不高兴，您和马尔塞夫一家人的关系已经那么长了，我真不愿意看到他这样来插在中间。”
腾格拉尔大笑起来。“您真象是个清教徒，”他说，“那种事情可是天天都有的。”
“但您不应该就这么毁约，马尔塞夫一家人都巴望结成这门亲事呢。”
“真的？”
“当然。”
“那么让他们来把话说明白吧，您可以给他父亲个暗示，您跟那家人的关系既然这么密切。”
“我？您是从哪儿看出来这一点的？”
“他们的舞会上就够明显的啦。嘿，伯爵夫人，那位瞧不起人的美塞苔丝，那位傲慢的迦太罗尼亚人，她不是还挽住您的胳膊带您到花园的幽径去散了半个钟头的步吗？但她平常即使对最老的老朋友也是不轻易张口的。您愿不愿意负责去跟那位当父亲的说一说？”
“再愿意不过了，如果您希望的话。”
“不过这一次得把事情明确地敲定。如果他要我的女儿，让他把日期定下来，把他的条件公布出来——总之，我们或者互相谅解，或者干脆吵一架。您明白吧——不要再拖延。”
“是的，阁下，这个事情我代您留心就是了。”
“我并不是说很心甘情愿地在等待他，但我确实也在等待他。您知道，一个银行家必须忠实于他的诺言。”于是腾格拉尔就跟半小时前卡瓦尔康蒂先生那样叹了一口气。
“好！棒！棒哇！”马尔塞夫模仿这位银行家的样子喝彩，因为此时正一曲终了。
腾格拉尔开始怀疑地望着马尔塞夫，这时忽然有一个人过来向他低语了几句话。“我就回来，”银行家对基督山说，“等一下我。我也许有一件事情要对您说。”
男爵夫人趁她丈夫出去的功夫，推开她女儿的书斋门。安德烈先生本来和欧热妮小姐一起坐在钢琴前，这时就象只弹簧一样地惊跳起来。阿尔贝微笑着向腾格拉尔小姐鞠了一躬，而小姐则不慌不乱，用她往常那种冷淡的态度还了他一礼。卡瓦尔康蒂显然十分狼狈；他向马尔塞夫鞠躬，马尔塞夫则努力以最不礼貌的神情对待他。然后阿尔贝就开始称赞腾格拉尔小姐的歌喉，而且说，他听了刚才她唱的歌之后，他很后悔昨天晚上没能来参加。
卡瓦尔康蒂觉着一个人站在一旁很尴尬，就转过身去和基督山讲话。
“来，”腾格拉尔夫人说，“别再唱歌和讲好听的话了，我们去喝茶吧。”
“来吧，罗茜。”腾格拉尔小姐对她的朋友说。
他们走进隔壁客厅里。茶已备好。他们按照英国人的规矩，加好糖，把茶匙放在他们的杯子里，正要开始要喝的功夫，门又开了，腾格拉尔显然十分激动地走进来。尤其是基督山注意到了他的这种神色，就用目光请银行家解释。“我派到希腊去打听消息的人回来了。”腾格拉尔说。
“哦！哦！”伯爵说，“原来您就是为了这件事情出去了。”
“是的。”
“国王奥图还好吗？”阿尔贝以最轻松的口气问道。
腾格拉尔并不作答，只是又向他投去一个狐疑的目光；基督山转过头去，掩饰住他脸上同情的表情，但那种表情一转眼就过去了。
“我们一块儿回去好不好？”阿尔贝对伯爵说。
“只要您愿意。”伯爵回答。
阿尔贝弄不懂银行家的那种目光意味着什么，就转身去问基督山，说：“您见到他看我的那个样子吗？”基督山当然明白得十分清楚。
“当然，”伯爵说，“但您认为他的目光里有什么特别的含意吗？”
“我确实这么想，他说的希腊来的消息是指什么？”
“我怎么能告诉您呢？”
“因为我以为您在那个国家派了情报员。”
基督山意味深长地微笑了一下。
“别说了，”阿尔贝说，“他来了。我去恭维恭维腾格拉尔小姐的首饰，叫她父亲跟您说话。”
“如果您一定要恭维她，最好还是恭维她的嗓子吧。”基督山说。
“不，那是人人都会说的。”
“我亲爱的子爵，您未免鲁莽得太可怕啦。”
阿尔贝含笑向欧热妮走过去。这当儿，腾格拉尔把嘴巴凑到基督山的耳朵上。“您的忠告太好了，”他说，“在‘弗尔南多’和‘亚尼纳’那两个名字后面，果然包含着一段可怕的历史。”
“真的！”基督山说。
“是的，我可以告诉您一切，但把那个年轻人带走吧。他在这儿我有点受不了。”
“他和我一起走。还要我叫他的父亲来看您吗？”
“现在更有必要了。”
“好极了。”伯爵向阿尔贝示意了一下；他们向夫人和小姐鞠躬告辞——阿尔贝对于腾格拉尔小姐那种冷淡的态度毫不在乎，基督山又给了腾格拉尔夫人一番忠告，暗示她一位银行家的太太应该对前途如何慎重打算。卡瓦尔康蒂先生恢复了他刚开始的状态。