“Oh, but that is dreadful! Why, the man must owe me a fearful grudge.”
“Does his action appear like that of an enemy?”
“No; certainly not.”
“Well, then——”
“And so he is in Paris?”
“Yes.”
“And what effect does he produce?”
“Why,” said Albert, “he was talked about for a week; then the coronation of the queen of England took place, followed by the theft of Mademoiselle Mars’s diamonds; and so people talked of something else.”
“My good fellow,” said Château-Renaud, “the count is your friend and you treat him accordingly. Do not believe what Albert is telling you, countess; so far from the sensation excited in the Parisian circles by the appearance of the Count of Monte Cristo having abated, I take upon myself to declare that it is as strong as ever. His first astounding act upon coming amongst us was to present a pair of horses, worth 32,000 francs, to Madame Danglars; his second, the almost miraculous preservation of Madame de Villefort’s life; now it seems that he has carried off the prize awarded by the Jockey Club. I therefore maintain, in spite of Morcerf, that not only is the count the object of interest at this present moment, but also that he will continue to be so for a month longer if he pleases to exhibit an eccentricity of conduct which, after all, may be his ordinary mode of existence.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Morcerf; “meanwhile, who is in the Russian ambassador’s box?”
“Which box do you mean?” asked the countess.