A FEW MINUTES after the scene of confusion produced in the salons of M. Danglars by the unexpected appearance of the brigade of soldiers, and by the disclosure which had followed, the mansion was deserted with as much rapidity as if a case of plague or of cholera morbus had broken out among the guests. In a few minutes, through all the doors, down all the staircases, by every exit, every one hastened to retire, or rather to fly; for it was a situation where the ordinary condolences,--which even the best friends are so eager to offer in great catastrophes,--were seen to be utterly futile. There remained in the banker's house only Danglars, closeted in his study, and making his statement to the officer of gendarmes; Madame Danglars, terrified, in the boudoir with which we are acquainted; and Eugénie, who with haughty air and disdainful lip had retired to her room with her inseparable companion, Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly. As for the numerous servants (more numerous that evening than usual, for their number was augmented by cooks and butlers from the Café de Paris), venting on their employers their anger at what they termed the insult to which they had been subjected, they collected in groups in the hall, in the kitchens, or in their rooms, thinking very little of their duty, which was thus naturally interrupted. Of all this household, only two persons deserve our notice; these are Mademoiselle Eugénie Danglars and Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly.
The betrothed had retired, as we said, with haughty air, disdainful lip, and the demeanor of an outraged queen, followed by her companion, who was paler and more disturbed than herself. On reaching her room Eugénie locked her door, while Louise fell on a chair. "Ah, what a dreadful thing," said the young musician; "who would have suspected it? M. Andrea Cavalcanti a murderer--a galley-slave escaped--a convict!" An ironical smile curled the lip of Eugénie. "In truth I was fated," said she. "I escaped the Morcerf only to fall into the Cavalcanti."
"Oh, do not confound the two, Eugénie."
"Hold your tongue! The men are all infamous, and I am happy to be able now to do more than detest them--I despise them."
"What shall we do?" asked Louise.
"What shall we do?"
"Yes."
"Why, the same we had intended doing three days since--set off."
"What?--although you are not now going to be married, you intend still"--
"Listen, Louise. I hate this life of the fashionable world, always ordered, measured, ruled, like our music-paper. What I have always wished for, desired, and coveted, is the life of an artist, free and independent, relying only on my own resources, and accountable only to myself. Remain here? What for?--that they may try, a month hence, to marry me again; and to whom?--M. Debray, perhaps, as it was once proposed. No, Louise, no! This evening's adventure will serve for my excuse. I did not seek one, I did not ask for one. God sends me this, and I hail it joyfully!"
"How strong and courageous you are!" said the fair, frail girl to her brunette companion.
"Did you not yet know me? Come, Louise, let us talk of our affairs. The post-chaise"--
"Was happily bought three days since."
"Have you had it sent where we are to go for it?"
"Yes."
"Our passport?"
"Here it is."
And Eugénie, with her usual precision, opened a printed paper, and read,--
"M. Léon d'Armilly, twenty years of age; profession, artist; hair black, eyes black; travelling with his sister."
"Capital! How did you get this passport?"
"When I went to ask M. de Monte Cristo for letters to the directors of the theatres at Rome and Naples, I expressed my fears of travelling as a woman; he perfectly understood them, and undertook to procure for me a man's passport, and two days after I received this, to which I have added with my own hand, 'travelling with his sister.'"
"Well," said Eugénie cheerfully, "we have then only to pack up our trunks; we shall start the evening of the signing of the contract, instead of the evening of the wedding--that is all."
"But consider the matter seriously, Eugénie!"
"Oh, I am done with considering! I am tired of hearing only of market reports, of the end of the month, of the rise and fall of Spanish funds, of Haitian bonds. Instead of that, Louise--do you understand?--air, liberty, melody of birds, plains of Lombardy, Venetian canals, Roman palaces, the Bay of Naples. How much have we, Louise?" The young girl to whom this question was addressed drew from an inlaid secretary a small portfolio with a lock, in which she counted twenty-three bank-notes.
"Twenty-three thousand francs," I said she.
"And as much, at least, in pearls, diamonds, and jewels," said Eugénie. "We are rich. With forty-five thousand francs we can live like princesses for two years, and comfortably for four; but before six months--you with your music, and I with my voice--we shall double our capital. Come, you shall take charge of the money, I of the jewel-box; so that if one of us had the misfortune to lose her treasure, the other would still have hers left. Now, the portmanteau--let us make haste--the portmanteau!"
"Stop!" said Louise, going to listen at Madame Danglars' door.
"What do you fear?"
"That we may be discovered."
"The door is locked."
"They may tell us to open it."
"They may if they like, but we will not."
"You are a perfect Amazon, Eugénie!" And the two young girls began to heap into a trunk all the things they thought they should require. "There now," said Eugénie, "while I change my costume do you lock the portmanteau." Louise pressed with all the strength of her little hands on the top of the portmanteau. "But I cannot," said she; "I am not strong enough; do you shut it."
"Ah, you do well to ask," said Eugénie, 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. When this was done, Eugénie opened a drawer, of which she kept the key, and took from it a wadded violet silk travelling cloak. "Here," said she, "you see I have thought of everything; with this cloak you will not be cold."
"But you?"
"Oh, I am never cold, you know! Besides, with these men's clothes"--
"Will you dress here?"
"Certainly."
"Shall you have time?"
"Do not be uneasy, you little coward! All our servants are busy, discussing the grand affair. Besides, what is there astonishing, when you think of the grief I ought to be in, that I shut myself up?--tell me!"
"No, truly--you comfort me."
"Come and help me."
From the same drawer she took a man's complete costume, from the boots to the coat, and a provision of linen, where there was nothing superfluous, but every requisite. Then, with a promptitude which indicated that this was not the first time she had amused herself by adopting the garb of the opposite sex, Eugénie drew on the boots and pantaloons, tied her cravat, buttoned her waistcoat up to the throat, and put on a coat which admirably fitted her beautiful figure. "Oh, that is very good--indeed, it is very good!" said Louise, looking at her with admiration; "but that beautiful black hair, those magnificent braids, which made all the ladies sigh with envy,--will they go under a man's hat like the one I see down there?"
"You shall see," said Eugénie. And with her left hand seizing the thick mass, which her long fingers could scarcely grasp, she took in her right hand a pair of long scissors, and soon the steel met through the rich and splendid hair, which fell in a cluster at her feet as she leaned back to keep it from her coat. Then she grasped the front hair, which she also cut off, without expressing the least regret; on the contrary, her eyes sparkled with greater pleasure than usual under her ebony eyebrows. "Oh, the magnificent hair!" said Louise, with regret.
"And am I not a hundred times better thus?" cried Eugénie, smoothing the scattered curls of her hair, which had now quite a masculine appearance; "and do you not think me handsomer so?"
"Oh, you are beautiful--always beautiful!" cried Louise. "Now, where are you going?"
"To Brussels, if you like; it is the nearest frontier. We can go to Brussels, Liège, Aix-la-Chapelle; then up the Rhine to Strasburg. We will cross Switzerland, and go down into Italy by the Saint-Gothard. Will that do?"
"Yes."
"What are you looking at?"
"I am looking at you; indeed you are adorable like that! One would say you were carrying me off."
"And they would be right, par Dieu!"
"Oh, I think you swore, Eugénie." And the two young girls, whom every one might have thought plunged in grief, the one on her own account, the other from interest in her friend, burst out laughing, as they cleared away every visible trace of the disorder which had naturally accompanied the preparations for their escape. Then, having blown out the lights, the two fugitives, looking and listening eagerly, with outstretched necks, opened the door of a dressing-room which led by a side staircase down to the yard,--Eugénie going first, and holding with one arm the portmanteau, which by the opposite handle Mademoiselle d'Armilly scarcely raised with both hands. The yard was empty; the clock was striking twelve. The porter was not yet gone to bed. Eugénie approached softly, and saw the old man sleeping soundly in an arm-chair in his lodge. She returned to Louise, took up the portmanteau, which she had placed for a moment on the ground, and they reached the archway under the shadow of the wall.
Eugénie concealed Louise in an angle of the gateway, so that if the porter chanced to awake he might see but one person. Then placing herself in the full light of the lamp which lit the yard,--"Gate!" cried she, with her finest contralto voice, and rapping at the window.
The porter got up as Eugénie expected, and even advanced some steps to recognize the person who was going out, but seeing a young man striking his boot impatiently with his riding-whip, he opened it immediately. Louise slid through the half-open gate like a snake, and bounded lightly forward. Eugénie, apparently calm, although in all probability her heart beat somewhat faster than usual, went out in her turn. A porter was passing and they gave him the portmanteau; then the two young girls, having told him to take it to No. 36, Rue de la Victoire, walked behind this man, whose presence comforted Louise. As for Eugénie, she was as strong as a Judith or a Delilah. They arrived at the appointed spot. Eugénie ordered the porter to put down the portmanteau, gave him some pieces of money, and having rapped at the shutter sent him away. The shutter where Eugénie had rapped was that of a little laundress, who had been previously warned, and was not yet gone to bed. She opened the door.
"Mademoiselle," said Eugénie, "let the porter get the post-chaise from the coach-house, and fetch some post-horses from the hotel. Here are five francs for his trouble."
"Indeed," said Louise, "I admire you, and I could almost say respect you." The laundress looked on in astonishment, but as she had been promised twenty louis, she made no remark.
In a quarter of an hour the porter returned with a post-boy and horses, which were harnessed, and put in the post-chaise in a minute, while the porter fastened the portmanteau on with the assistance of a cord and strap. "Here is the passport," said the postilion, "which way are we going, young gentleman?"
"To Fontainebleau," replied Eugénie with an almost masculine voice.
"What do you say?" said Louise.
"I am giving them the slip," said Eugénie; "this woman to whom we have given twenty louis may betray us for forty; we will soon alter our direction." And the young girl jumped into the britzska, which was admirably arranged for sleeping in, without scarcely touching the step. "You are always right," said the music teacher, seating herself by the side of her friend.
A quarter of an hour afterwards the postilion, having been put in the right road, passed with a crack of his whip through the gateway of the Barrière Saint-Martin. "Ah," said Louise, breathing freely, "here we are out of Paris."
"Yes, my dear, the abduction is an accomplished fact," replied Eugénie. "Yes, and without violence," said Louise.
那些让人意料不到出现的士兵以及士兵出现后的那一条宣布，腾格拉尔先生的客厅里变得混乱起来；几分钟以后，大家急急忙忙地逃出那座大厦，象是宾客群中发生了瘟疫或霍乱一样。在几分钟之内，每一道门口，每一阶楼梯上，每一个出口，都挤满了急急忙忙退出来的人；因为在这种情形之下，一般的安慰是没有用的，因此一个人在遇到灾难时会使他的最好的朋友们感到非常苦恼。在那位银行家的大厦里，只留下了在关得紧紧的书房里与军官谈话的腾格拉尔，躲在她那间我们已经熟悉的卧室里被吓坏了的腾格拉尔夫人，以及那带着傲慢的神态和鄙视的面孔，随同她永远都陪伴的同伴罗茜·亚密莱小姐退回到她房间里去的欧热妮。至于那些多得数不清的仆人们那天晚上比往常特别多（因为临时加了一部分从巴黎咖啡馆借来的厨师和侍者），他们成群结队地聚集在大厅里、厨房里或他们自己的房间里，他们自以为受了很大侮辱，把一腔怒气都发泄在他们的主人身上，再也不去想到他们的义务和地位，他们的工作自然也已经是不再需要的了。在这些利害关系不同而同样气愤的人之中，只有两个人引起了我们的注意；那两个人便是欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐和罗茜·亚密莱小姐。
我们上文已谈到，腾格拉尔小姐离开的时候带着傲慢的神态、鄙视的眼光以及象一位发怒的女皇的那种表情，后面跟着那位比她自己更苍白和更激动的同伴。到了她的房间里以后，欧热妮闩上房门，而罗茜则坐在一张椅子上。
“啊，多可怕的一件事！”那青年音乐家说，“谁会去怀疑？安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂先生竟是一个凶手——一个监狱里逃出来的苦役犯——一个囚徒！”
欧热妮撇了一下嘴唇，露出一个讥讽的微笑。“看来，我是命中注定了的，”她说，“我逃过了马尔塞夫而却落在卡瓦尔康蒂的手里。”
“噢，别把那两个人混为一谈，欧热妮。”
“住嘴！那两个人都是无耻的，我很高兴我现在能够认清他们的真面目。”
“我们怎么办呢？”罗茜问。
“我们怎么办吗？”
“是的。”
“咦，还是我们三天以前就准备好的办法，——走。”
“什么！即使现在不要你结婚了，你还是要——”
“听着，罗茜！我厌恶上流社会的这种生活，事事要规规矩矩，受人批评，受人牵制，象我们的乐谱一样。我始终希望，盼望和渴慕的是，自由独立，只依靠自己，这才是艺术家的生活。再留在这儿！为了什么？让他们在一个月以后再拿我嫁人吗？而且，嫁给谁呢？一定是德布雷先生，他的有一阵子说起过此事。不，罗茜，不！今天晚上发生的意外可以作我的借口。上帝把这个借口给我，而且来得正是时候！”
“你是多么的坚强和勇敢呀！”那柔弱白皮肤的女郎对她的同伴说。
“你难道还不了解我吗？来，罗茜，让我们来谈谈我们自己的事情吧。驿车——”
“幸亏三天前就买好了。”
“你可曾说好我们上车的地点吗？”
“说过了。”
“我们的护照呢？”
“在这儿！”
于是，欧热妮带着她往常那种自信的态度，打开一张纸念道：“莱翁·亚密莱先生，二十岁；艺术家；黑发黑眼；旅伴，妹一人。”
“太妙了！这张护照你是怎么搞到的？”
“当我去求基督山伯爵向罗马和那不勒斯剧院经理安一封介绍信的时候，我表示一个女人出门旅行很不方便。他十分明白我们意思，便负责给我弄到一张男人护照。我接到这张护照两天以后，用我自己手又写上了‘旅伴，妹一人。’”
“好，”欧热妮高兴地说，“那末我们只要收拾好行李就行了。我们取消在结婚之夜起程的计划，改在订婚之夜起程，——其差别只是如此而已。”
“你想清楚呀，欧热妮！”
“噢，我什么都想过了！我已听厌了月终的报表以及西班牙公债和海地公债的起落。而代替那一些的，罗茜，——你懂吗？——却是清新空气，自由，婉转的鸟声，伦巴第的平原，威尼斯的运河，罗马的宫殿，那不勒斯的海湾。我们还有多少钱，罗茜？”
她的同伴从一只嵌花的写字台里拿出一只小皮夹，把皮夹里的钱数了一数，一共有二十三张。
“二万三千法郎。”她说。
“而珠宝钻石至少也值这么多，”欧热妮说。“我们很有钱哪。有了四万五千法郎，我们可以过两年象公主一般的生活。如果只是想舒服一点，便可以过四年。但在六个月之内——你靠你的乐器，我靠我的歌喉——我们便可以把我们的钱增加一倍了。来，你保管钱，我保管珠宝箱。假如我们之中不幸有一个人丢失了她的财宝，那还有另外一个的可用。来，收拾提包，我们赶快吧，收拾提包！”
“等一下！”罗茜说，走到通腾格拉尔夫人房间的门前去听了一下。
“你怕什么？”
“怕我们让人发觉。”
“门已经关上了。”
“说不定有人会叫我们开的呀。”
“让他们去叫吧。但我们却决不开。”
“你是一个名副其实的女丈夫，欧热妮！”于是那两个青年姑娘开始把她们认为她们需要的东西都装进一只旅行提包里。
“现在，”欧热妮说，“我换衣服，你锁上那只提包。”
罗茜用尽她所有的气力压那只提包的盖子。“我不行，”她说，“我气力不够，你来关吧。”
“啊，你说得对！”欧热妮笑着说。“我忘记了我是大力士，而你却只是白面女皇！”于是那青年女郎膝盖顶在提包盖上，把提包的箱盖盖好，而亚密莱小姐则把锁插到锁臼里。
这些做好以后，欧热妮用随身带着的钥匙打开一个衣橱，从衣橱里取出一件用紫绸做成的旅行棉披风。“喏，”她说，“你看，我一切都想好了，有了这件披风，你就不会挨冻了。”
“但你呢？”
“噢，我是从来不怕冷的，你知道！而且，穿了这些男人的衣服——”
“你在这儿穿吗？”
“当然。”
“来得及吗？”
“不用担心，你这胆小鬼！全体仆人现在都忙着讨论那件大事。况且，你想想看，按照常规我本应该多么伤心，关紧房门又算是什么奇怪呢？你说！”
“不错，那倒是真的，这就使我安心了。”
“来，帮帮我的忙。”
她从取出已经披在亚密莱小姐肩头上的那件披风的衣橱抽屉里，又拿出一套男人的衣服来，从领结到皮靴一应俱全，又拿出一只口袋，里面全是必需的东西，没有一件多余的。然后她穿上皮靴和裤子，打好领结，扣好背心，穿上一件非常适合她身材的上装。从她打扮的速度上来看，可以推测到她扮演异性已不是第一次了。
“噢，好极了！真的好极了！”罗茜以赞美的目光望着她说，“但是，那一头美丽的黑发，那些使所有的太太小姐们都发出嫉妒叹息的漂亮的辫子，可能全部装在我眼前的这一顶男人的帽子底下吗？”
“你瞧着吧，”欧热妮说。她左手抓住那头浓密的头发，——她那细长的手指几乎不能把它们全部抓住，——右手拿起一把长剪刀，不久，剪刀在秀发上喀嚓一声，那青年姑娘把身体向后一仰，以免玷污她的上装，那一头浓密美丽的头发便都落到她的脚下。然后，她把前刘海剪掉，在她那象黑檀木一样漆黑的的眼睛里，非但没有遗憾的表情，反而更显得炯炯有神。
“噢，那漂亮的头发！”亚密莱小姐遗憾地说。
“我这样不是更好吗？”欧热妮喊道，一面抚弄那些零碎的鬈发。她的样子现在已很象男人，“你觉得我这样不漂亮吗？”
“噢，你很漂亮——永远是漂亮的！”罗茜喊道。“我们现在到哪儿去？”
“到布鲁塞尔去，假如你同意的话，这是出境最近的一条路。我们可以到布鲁塞尔，次日，埃克斯·拉夏佩勒，然后沿莱茵河到达斯特拉斯堡。我们将横穿瑞士，经圣·哥塔进入意大利。你看行吗？
“行。”
“你在看什么？”
“我在看你，真的，你这副样子真叫人羡慕！人家认为你带着我私奔呢。”
“哦，真的！那他们就说对了。”
“噢！我快要挨骂了，欧热妮！”于是，这两个都以为自己一定是非常悲哀的青年女郎—一个是为了她自己，一个是为了她的朋友——都大笑起来。她们整理了一下准备逃走时所留下的每一丝痕迹；然后，吹熄她们的灯，睁大眼睛、竖起耳朵和伸长脖子，这两个逃跑者打开一间更衣室的门，从一道侧梯走到前院里。欧热妮走在前头，用一只手拉着提包的一端，后面的亚密莱小姐则用双手拉着提包的另一端。前院里空无一人；这时正是十二点钟。门房还没有上床。欧热妮轻轻地走过去，看到那个老头儿正在他那个小房间的一张圈椅里酣睡。她回到罗茜那儿，提起那只放在地上的旅行提包，两人顺着墙根走到门廊下。
欧热妮把罗茜藏在门廊的一个角落里，这样，假如那门房碰巧醒来，他也只能看见一个人。然后，她走到那盏照亮前庭的灯光底下，一面拍打窗门，一面压低了声音喊：“开门！”
正如欧热妮所想象的，门房爬起来，甚至走前几步想看看究竟是谁要出去，但看到一个青年男子用他的马鞭不耐烦地拍击着他的皮靴，他赶快把门打开了。罗茜象一条蛇似的从门里溜出去轻快地向前跳了几步。欧热妮接着也出来了，她表面上很镇定，但是她的心要比往常跳得快一点。这时正巧有一个脚夫经过，她们便把那只提包交给他，告诉他提到维克多路三十六号，然后这两个青年女郎就跟在他的后面走。脚夫的出现使罗茜的心安定下来。至于欧热妮，她坚强得象一个犹蒂丝［古代用计杀死敌将、解救危城的一个犹太女人，事见《圣经》。——译注］或一个狄丽拉［《圣经》中大力女子。——译注］一样。她们到达约好的地点。欧热妮吩咐脚夫放下提包，给了他一些钱打发他走开，然后拍打那座房子的百叶窗住着洗衣服的小妇人，她曾在事先得到通知，所以还不曾上床睡觉。她出来打开门。
“大姐，”欧热妮说，“叫那看门人把旅行马车从车房里拉出来，再叫他到旅馆里去租驿马。这五个法郎作他的酬劳。”
“真的，”罗茜说，“我真佩服你，我简直要说敬重你啦。”
那洗衣女露出惊奇的神色，但因为说好她可以拿到二十个路易，所以并不说话。
不到一刻钟，那看门人带着马夫和马车回来了，马夫立刻把马套到马车上，而看门人则用一条绳子绑住那只提包。
“护照在这儿，马夫说，“我们到哪儿去，先生？”
“到枫丹白露，欧热妮用一种近似男性的声音回答。
“你说什么？”罗茜说。
“我是故意这么说，”欧热妮说，“我们虽然给了这个女人二十路易，但她或许为了四十路易而出卖我们。我们不久就要改变方向的。”她们跳进那辆布置得可以睡觉的四轮马车里，几乎没碰踏板。
“你永远是对的。”罗茜说，一面坐到她朋友的旁边。
一刻钟以后马夫已拐上正道，扬鞭通过了圣·马丁城栅的城门。
“啊！”罗茜说，“我们已经走出巴黎了。”
“是的，我亲爱的，这次逃跑干得漂亮极了。”欧热妮回答。
“是的，不曾用暴力。”罗茜说。
“即使用暴力也完全值得。”欧热妮回答。这些话渐渐消失在辘辘的车轮滚动声里。腾格拉尔先生永远失去了他的女儿。