The Count of Monte Cristo

Franz Recognizes the Count of Monte Cristo

The man in the box, apparently sharing the universal admiration, stands up so that his countenance is fully revealed. Franz recognizes him immediately as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo—the very same person he had encountered the previous evening in the ruins of the Colosseum, whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar. All doubt of his identity is now at an end; his singular host evidently resides in Rome. The surprise and agitation caused by this confirmation manifest on Franz’s features, prompting the countess to gaze at him in puzzlement before bursting into laughter and demanding to know what has happened.

Countess Suspects the Count Is a Vampire

The countess, examining the stranger through her lorgnette, observes that he looks as though he had “just been dug up”—more like a corpse permitted by a friendly grave-digger to revisit the earth than anything human. She declares him the very image of “Lord Ruthven himself in a living form” and demands to know whether he is a vampire, a resuscitated corpse, or what. When Franz admits that he has seen the man before and believes he is recognized in turn, the countess shudders, observing that the stranger’s coal-black hair, large bright glittering eyes with their wild unearthly fire, and ghastly paleness match perfectly Byron’s descriptions. The Greek woman with him, she insists, is altogether unlike other women—a foreigner and stranger belonging to the same horrible race, a dealer in magical arts.

Countess Pleads with Franz to Avoid the Count

The countess entreats Franz not to approach the count, at least for that night, even if his curiosity continues on the morrow. She feigns having a party at her house to compel Franz to escort her home, and her superstitious dread is so evident that Franz himself feels it. Upon arriving at her hotel, Franz discovers she has deceived him about expecting company; she confesses her little subterfuge, admitting that the “horrid man” had made her feel uncomfortable and she longed to be alone to compose her startled mind. She extracts a promise from Franz that he will return directly to his hotel and make no attempt to follow the man that night, pleading that she cannot bear to serve as a conductor between that man and herself. Franz remains uncertain whether her fears are genuine or whether she is merely amusing herself at his expense.