Chapter 95: The Mysterious Count: II
"Listen to me," the countess said, "and don’t be so stubborn. I’m going home. I’m hosting a party at my house tonight, so I can’t possibly stay until the end of the opera. Now, I cannot for one instant believe you’re so ungentlemanly that you’d refuse to escort a lady who’s actually asking you for help."
Franz had no choice but to pick up his hat, open the box door, and offer the countess his arm. It was obvious from her manner that her uneasiness was genuine. Franz himself couldn’t resist a feeling of superstitious dread, stronger in him because it arose from multiple corroborating memories, while the countess’s terror sprang from an instinctive belief in the wild tales she’d heard until she accepted them as truth. Franz could even feel her arm trembling as he helped her into the carriage.
When they arrived at her residence, Franz realized she’d deceived him about expecting company. On the contrary, her return before the scheduled hour seemed to greatly surprise her servants.
"Excuse my little deception," the countess said in response to her companion’s half-reproachful look, "but that horrible man made me feel so uncomfortable. I just wanted to be alone so I could calm my startled nerves."
Franz tried to smile.
"No," she said, "don’t smile. It doesn’t match the expression on your face, and I’m sure it doesn’t come from your heart. However, promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Promise me."
"I’ll do anything you want, except give up my determination to find out who this man is. I have more reasons than you can imagine for wanting to know who he is, where he came from, and where he’s going."
"Where he comes from, I have no idea. But I can readily tell you where he’s going, straight to hell, without the least doubt."
"Let’s just discuss the promise you wanted me to make," Franz said.
"Fine. You must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel and make no attempt to follow this man tonight. There are certain connections between the people we leave and those we meet afterward. For heaven’s sake, don’t serve as a link between that man and me. Chase after him tomorrow as much as you want, but never bring him near me, or you’ll see me die of terror. Now, good night. Go to your rooms and try to sleep away all memories of this evening. As for me, I’m quite sure I won’t be able to close my eyes."
With that, the countess left Franz, leaving him unable to decide whether she was just playing games with him or whether her fears were genuine.
When Franz returned to the hotel, he found Albert in his dressing gown and slippers, lounging on a sofa and smoking a cigar.
"My dear fellow!" Albert cried, jumping up. "Is it really you? I didn’t expect to see you before tomorrow."
"Albert," Franz replied, "I’m glad to have this chance to tell you once and for all that you have a completely wrong idea about Italian women. I would have thought all your failed romantic pursuits would have taught you better by now."
"These women would puzzle the Devil himself! They give you their hand, they squeeze yours in return, they keep up whispered conversations, they let you escort them home. If a Parisian woman indulged in a quarter of these flirtatious behaviors, her reputation would be ruined forever."
"The very reason women in this country put so little restraint on their words and actions is because they live so much in public and have nothing to hide. Besides, you must have noticed that the countess was genuinely alarmed."
"At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting across from us with that lovely Greek woman? I ran into them in the lobby after the show ended, and I have no idea where you got your otherworldly notions from. I can assure you this supposed monster of yours is an extremely handsome fellow, admirably dressed. In fact, I’m quite sure from the cut of his clothes they were made by a top Paris tailor, probably Blin or Humann. He was rather pale, certainly, but you know paleness is always considered strong proof of aristocratic breeding."
Franz smiled, remembering that Albert particularly prided himself on his own pale complexion.
"Well, that confirms my thoughts," Franz said. "The countess’s suspicions were completely unfounded. Did he speak in your hearing? Did you catch any of his words?"
"I did, but they were in the Greek dialect. I recognized it from the mixture of Greek words. I don’t know if I ever mentioned that I was quite strong in Greek when I was in college."
"He spoke Greek?"
"I think so."
"That settles it," Franz murmured. "It’s definitely him."
"What are you saying?"
"Nothing. But tell me, what were you thinking about when I came in?"
"Oh, I was arranging a little surprise for you."
"Really? What kind?"
"You know it’s impossible to get a carriage."
"Yes, and we’ve done everything humanly possible to try to get one."
"Well, in this difficulty, a brilliant idea came to me."
Franz looked at Albert skeptically, clearly not having much confidence in his friend’s ideas.
"I tell you, Franz," Albert cried, "you deserve to be challenged to a duel for that doubting glance you just gave me."
"And I promise to give you satisfaction if your scheme turns out as clever as you claim."
"Fine, then listen."
"I’m listening."
"You agree that getting a carriage is impossible?"
"I do."
"And we can’t get horses either?"
"True. We’ve offered any price but failed."
"Well, what do you say to a cart? I bet we could find one of those."
"Possibly."
"And a pair of oxen?"
"As easily found as the cart."
"You see, with a cart and a couple of oxen, our problem is solved! We’ll decorate the cart tastefully, and if you and I dress as peasant farmers, we can create a striking scene like that famous painting by Leopold Robert. It would add to the effect if the countess would join us in peasant costume. Our group would be complete, especially since the countess is beautiful enough to look like a religious painting."
"Well," Franz said, "this time, Albert, I have to give you credit for a brilliant idea."
"And quite appropriate too!" Albert replied with pride. "A theme borrowed from our own festivals. Ha! You Romans thought you’d make us poor foreigners trudge behind your processions like beggars because no carriages or horses are available in your miserable city. But you don’t know us, when we can’t have one thing, we invent another!"
"Have you told anyone about your triumphant idea?"
"Only our innkeeper. When I got back, I sent for him and explained what I wanted. He assured me nothing would be easier than to provide everything I need. One thing disappointed me, when I asked him to gild the oxen’s horns, he said there wouldn’t be time since it would take three days. So we’ll have to do without that little flourish."
"Where is he now?"
"Who?"
"Our innkeeper."
"Out searching for our setup. By tomorrow it might be too late."
"So he’ll be able to give us an answer tonight?"
"I expect him any minute."
At that instant the door opened and Signor Pastrini’s head appeared. "May I come in?" he asked.
"Certainly, certainly!" Franz called. "Come in, landlord."
"Well?" Albert asked eagerly. "Have you found the cart and oxen?"
"Better than that!" Signor Pastrini replied with the air of someone extremely pleased with himself.
"Be careful, my good man," Albert said. "Better is often the enemy of good."
"Just leave everything to me, your excellencies," Signor Pastrini returned with unbounded confidence.
"But what have you done?" Franz asked. "Tell us, good fellow."
"Your excellencies know," the landlord responded, swelling with importance, "that the Count of Monte Cristo is staying on the same floor as you!"
"We certainly know it," Albert exclaimed, "since that’s why we’re crammed into these tiny rooms like poor students in the back streets of Paris!"
"Well, the Count of Monte Cristo, hearing of your predicament, has sent an offer for you to share his carriage and have two seats at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli."
The friends stared at each other in speechless surprise.
"But do you think," Albert asked, "we should accept such an offer from a complete stranger?"
"What kind of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" Franz asked the innkeeper.
"A very great nobleman, though I can’t say exactly whether he’s from Malta or Sicily. But I know he’s as noble as any prince and rich as a gold mine."
"It seems to me," Franz said quietly to Albert, "that if this person deserved our landlord’s high praise, he would have sent his invitation through a more formal channel rather than through our innkeeper in this casual way. He would have written, or-"
Someone knocked at the door.
"Come in," Franz said.