The Count of Monte Cristo

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.