The Count of Monte Cristo

Relays and Vessels Kept Ready

The steward confirms that he saw the corvette put to sea the same evening they quit Marseilles. The yacht was ordered to remain at Martigues, and the steamboat is at Châlons. The count instructs Bertuccio to write from time to time to the captains in charge of the two sailing vessels to keep them on the alert, and to give the same orders to the steamboat. He further requires that, once the estate is purchased, constant relays of horses be established at ten leagues apart along both the northern and southern roads. Bertuccio pledges to see to all of it. The count, with a gesture of satisfaction, descends the terrace steps and springs into his carriage, which is whirled swiftly toward the banker’s house.

Danglars and the Unlimited Credit

Danglars, presiding over a railroad committee, is on the point of concluding the meeting when his visitor is announced. Addressing his colleagues—members of one or the other Chamber—he explains the ridiculous circumstance that has occurred: Thomson & French, the Roman bankers, have sent him a certain person calling himself the Count of Monte Cristo and have given him an unlimited credit. He confesses this is the drollest thing he has encountered in his extensive foreign dealings, and greatly has it roused his curiosity. He took the trouble that morning to call upon the pretended count, for if he were a real count he would not be so rich. But, would they believe it, “He was not receiving.” So the master of Monte Cristo gives himself the airs of a great millionaire or a capricious beauty. Danglars has made inquiries and found that the house in the Champs-Élysées is his own property and is decently kept up, but an order for unlimited credit calls for caution on the part of the banker, and he is very anxious to see this man. He suspects a hoax is intended, but the instigators little know whom they have to deal with: “They laugh best who laugh last!” Uttering this with energy that leaves him nearly breathless, he bows to the assembled party and withdraws to his drawing-room, whose sumptuous white-and-gold furnishings have caused a great sensation in the Chaussée d’Antin.

The Meeting at the Chaussée d’Antin

Danglars has desired his guest to be shown into this drawing-room, intending to overwhelm him with such luxury. He finds the count standing before some copies of Albano and Fattore, passed off on the banker as originals, which seem to feel their degradation in juxtaposition with the gaudy colors of the ceiling. The count turns as Danglars enters. With a slight inclination of the head, Danglars signs to the count to be seated, pointing significantly to a gilded armchair covered with white satin embroidered with gold. The count sits down. Danglars, with affected carelessness, presumes he has the honor of addressing M. de Monte Cristo. The count bows and replies that he has the honor of speaking to Baron Danglars, chevalier of the Legion of Honor and member of the Chamber of Deputies, repeating all the titles he had read on the baron’s card. Danglars feels the irony and compresses his lips.

A War of Titles

Danglars, trusting the count will excuse him for not using his title at first, observes that they live under a popular form of government and that he is himself a representative of the liberties of the people. Monte Cristo rejoins that, so much so, while Danglars calls himself baron, he is unwilling to call anyone else count. Danglars, with affected carelessness, says he attaches no value to such empty distinctions; he was made baron, and also chevalier of the Legion of Honor, in return for services rendered—but. The count completes the thought: Danglars has discarded his titles after the example of Messrs. de Montmorency and Lafayette, a noble example to follow—though, Danglars adds, not entirely so; with the servants. Monte Cristo understands perfectly: to his domestics he is “my lord,” the journalists style him “monsieur,” and his constituents call him “citizen”—distinctions very suitable under a constitutional government. Again Danglars bites his lips, sees he is no match for the count in such an argument, and turns to more congenial subjects. He informs the count that he has received a letter of advice from Thomson & French of Rome. The count is charmed, for that spares him the troublesome task of coming for money himself, and he asks, with delicate irony, whether a regular letter of advice has been received.