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第297章

"Oh, do not give me credit for this, madame; it was done by the Romans, who much esteemed them, and Pliny relates that they sent slaves from Ostia to Rome, who carried on their heads fish which he calls the mulus, and which, from the description, must probably be the goldfish.It was also considered a luxury to have them alive, it being an amusing sight to see them die, for, when dying, they change color three or four times, and like the rainbow when it disappears, pass through all the prismatic shades, after which they were sent to the kitchen.Their agony formed part of their merit -- if they were not seen alive, they were despised when dead.""Yes," said Debray, "but then Ostia is only a few leagues from Rome.""True," said Monte Cristo; "but what would be the use of living eighteen hundred years after Lucullus.if we can do no better than he could?" The two Cavalcanti opened their enormous eyes, but had the good sense not to say anything.

"All this is very extraordinary," said Chateau-Renaud;"still, what I admire the most, I confess, is the marvellous promptitude with which your orders are executed.Is it not true that you only bought this house five or six days ago?""Certainly not longer."

"Well, I am sure it is quite transformed since last week.If I remember rightly, it had another entrance, and the court-yard was paved and empty; while to-day we have a splendid lawn, bordered by trees which appear to be a hundred years old.""Why not? I am fond of grass and shade," said Monte Cristo.

"Yes," said Madame de Villefort, "the door was towards the road before, and on the day of my miraculous escape you brought me into the house from the road, I remember.""Yes, madame," said Monte Cristo; "but I preferred having an entrance which would allow me to see the Bois de Boulogne over my gate.""In four days," said Morrel; "it is extraordinary!""Indeed," said Chateau-Renaud, "it seems quite miraculous to make a new house out of an old one; for it was very old, and dull too.I recollect coming for my mother to look at it when M.de Saint-Meran advertised it for sale two or three years ago.""M.de Saint-Meran?" said Madame de Villefort; "then this house belonged to M.de Saint-Meran before you bought it?""It appears so," replied Monte Cristo.

"Is it possible that you do not know of whom you purchased it?""Quite so; my steward transacts all this business for me.""It is certainly ten years since the house had been occupied," said Chateau-Renaud, "and it was quite melancholy to look at it, with the blinds closed, the doors locked, and the weeds in the court.Really, if the house had not belonged to the father-in-law of the procureur, one might have thought it some accursed place where a horrible crime had been committed." Villefort, who had hitherto not tasted the three or four glasses of rare wine which were placed before him, here took one, and drank it off.Monte Cristo allowed a short time to elapse, and then said, "It is singular, baron, but the same idea came across me the first time I came here; it looked so gloomy I should never have bought it if my steward had not taken the matter into his own hands.Perhaps the fellow had been bribed by the notary.""It is probable," stammered out Villefort, trying to smile;"but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with any such proceeding.This house is part of Valentine's marriage-portion, and M.de Saint-Meran wished to sell it;for if it had remained another year or two uninhabited it would have fallen to ruin." It was Morrel's turn to become pale.

"There was, above all, one room," continued Monte Cristo, "very plain in appearance, hung with red damask, which, Iknow not why, appeared to me quite dramatic.""Why so?" said Danglars; "why dramatic?"

"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte Cristo."Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness? -- why, we cannot tell.It is a chain of recollections -- an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places -- which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place.And there is something in this room which reminds me forcibly of the chamber of the Marquise de Ganges* or Desdemona.Stay, since we have finished dinner, I will show it to you, and then we will take coffee in the garden.After dinner, the play." Monte Cristo looked inquiringly at his guests.Madame de Villefort rose, Monte Cristo did the same, and the rest followed their example.Villefort and Madame Danglars remained for a moment, as if rooted to their seats;they questioned each other with vague and stupid glances.

"Did you hear?" said Madame Danglars.

* Elisabeth de Rossan, Marquise de Ganges, was one of the famous women of the court of Louis XIV.where she was known as "La Belle Provencale." She was the widow of the Marquise de Castellane when she married de Ganges, and having the misfortune to excite the enmity of her new brothers-in-law, was forced by them to take poison; and they finished her off with pistol and dagger.-- Ed.

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