"Well, well," said Monte Cristo quietly, "I see you wish to quarrel with me; but I would give you one piece of advice, which you will do well to keep in mind.It is in poor taste to make a display of a challenge.Display is not becoming to every one, M.de Morcerf."At this name a murmur of astonishment passed around the group of spectators of this scene.They had talked of no one but Morcerf the whole day.Albert understood the allusion in a moment, and was about to throw his glove at the count, when Morrel seized his hand, while Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud, fearing the scene would surpass the limits of a challenge, held him back.But Monte Cristo, without rising, and leaning forward in his chair, merely stretched out his arm and, taking the damp, crushed glove from the clinched hand of the young man, "Sir," said he in a solemn tone, "I consider your glove thrown, and will return it to you wrapped around a bullet.Now leave me or I will summon my servants to throw you out at the door."Wild, almost unconscious, and with eyes inflamed, Albert stepped back, and Morrel closed the door.Monte Cristo took up his glass again as if nothing had happened; his face was like marble, and his heart was like bronze.Morrel whispered, "What have you done to him?""I? Nothing -- at least personally," said Monte Cristo.
"But there must be some cause for this strange scene.""The Count of Morcerf's adventure exasperates the young man.""Have you anything to do with it?"
"It was through Haidee that the Chamber was informed of his father's treason.""Indeed?" said Morrel."I had been told, but would not credit it, that the Grecian slave I have seen with you here in this very box was the daughter of Ali Pasha.""It is true, nevertheless."
"Then," said Morrel, "I understand it all, and this scene was premeditated.""How so?"
"Yes.Albert wrote to request me to come to the opera, doubtless that I might be a witness to the insult he meant to offer you.""Probably," said Monte Cristo with his imperturbable tranquillity.
"But what shall you do with him?"
"With whom?"
"With Albert."
"What shall I do with Albert? As certainly, Maximilian, as Inow press your hand, I shall kill him before ten o'clock to-morrow morning." Morrel, in his turn, took Monte Cristo's hand in both of his, and he shuddered to feel how cold and steady it was.
"Ah, Count," said he, "his father loves him so much!""Do not speak to me of that," said Monte Cristo, with the first movement of anger he had betrayed; "I will make him suffer." Morrel, amazed, let fall Monte Cristo's hand.
"Count, count!" said he.
"Dear Maximilian," interrupted the count, "listen how adorably Duprez is singing that line, --`O Mathilde! idole de mon ame!'
"I was the first to discover Duprez at Naples, and the first to applaud him.Bravo, bravo!" Morrel saw it was useless to say more, and refrained.The curtain, which had risen at the close of the scene with Albert, again fell, and a rap was heard at the door.
"Come in," said Monte Cristo with a voice that betrayed not the least emotion; and immediately Beauchamp appeared.
"Good-evening, M.Beauchamp," said Monte Cristo, as if this was the first time he had seen the journalist that evening;"be seated."
Beauchamp bowed, and, sitting down, "Sir," said he, "I just now accompanied M.de Morcerf, as you saw.""And that means," replied Monte Cristo, laughing, "that you had, probably, just dined together.I am happy to see, M.