Edmond Dantes - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Rumor ascribed to her descent from one of the oldest and most respectable families of France; and domestic trials, among which was a matrimonial misadventure, no less than the arrest of an Italian Prince whom she was about to wed, on the bridal night, as an escaped galley slave, were a.s.signed as the cause which had given her splendid powers to the stage.
At an earlier hour than usual--for Parisian fas.h.i.+on never fills the opera-house until the curtain falls on the second act--the Rue Lepelletier was crowded with carriages, La Pinon with fiacres, and the Grande Bateliere and the pa.s.sages to the Boulevard des Italiens with persons on foot, all hastening toward that magnificent edifice, constructed within the s.p.a.ce of a single year by Debret, to replace the building in the Rue de Richelieu ordered to be razed by the Government because of the a.s.sa.s.sination at its door of the Duke of Berri, in 1820--that magnificent structure which accommodates two thousand spectators with seats.
Among the first in the orchestra stalls were Beauchamp and Debray, whose attention was divided between the stage and the arrivals of splendidly attired elegantes in the different loges, during the overture. All the elite of Paris seemed on the qui vive.
"It will be a splendid house," observed Debray.
"The debutante, be she whom she may, should feel flattered by such an unexampled a.s.semblage of all the ton of Paris."
Orchestra, balcony, galleries, amphitheatres, lobbies and parterre were packed; every portion of the vast edifice, in short, was thronged except a few of the loges and baignoires, into which every moment brilliant companies were entering.
"Who is that tall, dark military man, with the heavy moustache, now making his way into the Minister's box?" asked Beauchamp, after a pause.
"That man is no less a personage than the Governor of Algeria, Eugene Cavaignac, Marshal of Camp," said Debray. "He reported himself at the War Office this morning, and is the lion of the house."
"Ah!" cried the journalist; "and that is the hero of Constantine! What a frank, open countenance, and what a distingue bearing and manner!"
"You would not suppose all that man's life pa.s.sed in a camp, would you?"
"His career has, I understand, been remarkable," said Beauchamp.
"Very. His father was a Conventionist of '92, a famous old fellow, who, among other terrible things laid at his door, is said to have p.a.w.ned an old man's life, old Labodere, for his daughter's honor; somewhat, you remember, as Francis I. spared St. Valliar's life for the favor of the lovely Diana of Poitiers, his only child. His aged mother is yet living, a woman of strong mind, though seventy, and he does nothing without her advice. His brother G.o.defroi's name was notorious as that of a powerful Republican leader for years before his decease. At eighteen Eugene entered the Polytechnic School. At twenty-two he was a sub-lieutenant in the engineer corps of the second regiment. In '28 he was first lieutenant in France; in '29 he was captain; in '34 he was in Algeria; and, in '39, his cool, bold, decided but discreet conduct had made him chef de bataillon, despite the fact that he had incurred the Royal displeasure some years before by a disloyal toast at a banquet. In '40 he was lieutenant-colonel; in '41 marshal of camp, and first commander of division of Tlemeen; in '43, he was conqueror of Constantine, at the first siege of which I so nearly lost my own valuable head, and he is now Governor of Algeria, after service there of fourteen years."
"And the tall and sinewy man beside him, presenting such a contrast to Cavaignac, with his light complexion, gray hair, and sullen and not very intelligent expression?"
"Oh! that is General Bugeaud, by some deemed the real conqueror of Algeria. But he's not at all popular with the army. His manners are simple and excessively blunt. He is a perfect despot with his staff, 'tis said; yet he is quite a wag when in good-humor, and, at Ministerial dinners, can unbend and make himself as agreeable as need be wished. His voice is as harsh as a Cossack's, and in perfect contrast to that of Cavaignac, which is the richest and most musical you ever heard, yet distinct, emphatic and impressive."
"Bugeaud incurred intense odium with the opposition for his unwarranted severity as jailor of the d.u.c.h.ess of Berri, in '34, and his killing Dulong in a duel, because of a deserved taunt on the subject."
"Bugeaud did his duty," said the Secretary, "though a man of his nature could hardly perform such a duty with gentleness. Bugeaud is not a gentleman; he knows it, and don't try to seem one. He is only a soldier.
But there comes his very particular foe; General Lamoriciere. That magnificent woman on his arm is his wife and the sister of the lady who follows, with her husband, the ex-Minister, Adolphe Thiers."
"What a contrast!" cried Beauchamp. "The tall and elegant figure of Lamoriciere, in his brilliant uniform of the Spahis, half oriental, half French, with his lovely wife, and the low, swarthy little ex-Minister in complete black, with his huge round spectacles on his nose nearly twice the size of his eyes, and a wife on his arm nearly double his stature.
Why, Thiers reminds me of a Ghoul gallanting a Peri."
"And yet that same dark little ex-Minister has perhaps, in many respects the most powerful mind--at all events, the most available mind--impelled as it is by his restless ambition, in all France. Do you observe how incessantly his keen black eye flashes around the house, beneath his huge gla.s.ses?"
"He seems perfectly aware that every eye in the house is directed toward his loge. But is it true that his brother-in-law owes his rapid rise to his influence at Court?"
"By no means," replied Debray. "If there is a man in the French army who has achieved his own fortunes, that man is Lamoriciere. He went to Algeria a lieutenant, and bravely and gallantly has he attained his present brilliant position. It was he who proposed the creation of a corps of native Arab troops, like the Sepoys of British India; and he was appointed colonel of the first regiment of Spahis. Our quondam friend, Maximilian Morrel, has a command in this regiment, and is a protege of his ill.u.s.trious exemplar."
"The hostility between Lamoriciere and Bugeaud arises, I suppose, from the latter's detestable disposition, his overbearing and dictatorial temper. Lamoriciere is not a man, I take it, to be the slave of any one."
"Rivalry in Africa is thought to have originated the feud," remarked Debray, "and political differences in Paris to have inflamed it.
Bugeaud is a Legitimist, and Lamoriciere a Republican."
"Silence!" cried the musical connoisseurs in the orchestra. "The curtain rises."
As the curtain rose a hush of expectation reigned over the audience. The hum and bustle ceased, and silence most profound succeeded. The appearance of the fair cantatrice was the signal for such a reception as only a Parisian audience can give, and the first strains that issued from her lips a.s.sured them that their applause was not misplaced.
And surely never was the dark d.u.c.h.ess of Ferrara more faithfully personated than by the present artiste. This vraisemblance, which is so seldom witnessed in the opera, seemed to strike every eye. Her figure was tall and majestic, and voluptuously developed. Her air and bearing were haughty, dignified, and queen-like. Her complexion was very dark, but perfectly clear; her forehead broad and high; her brows heavy, but gracefully arched; her eyes large, black and flas.h.i.+ng; her hair dark as night, and arranged with great simplicity in glossy bands; and her mouth large, but filled with teeth of pearl-like whiteness, contrasted by lips of coral wet with the spray. The entire outline of her face was Roman, and exhibited in its contour and lineaments even more than Roman sternness and decision; and its effect was still more heightened by a large mole at one corner of her mouth and the velvet robes in which she was appropriately costumed.
The scene between the d.u.c.h.ess and the Spaniard, Gubetta, was received with the utmost applause, and the pathos of that between the son and his unknown mother, which succeeded, touched the audience to tears; but when the maskers rushed in and her vizard was torn off, and her true name proclaimed, and, amid her heart-rending wailings, the curtain fell on the first act, the shouts were perfectly thunderous with enthusiasm. The role of Gennaro was performed by the brother of the cantatrice, Leon d'Armilly, a young man of twenty, of delicate and graceful figure, and as decidedly blonde as his sister was brunette. Nature seemed to have made a great mistake in s.e.x when this brother and sister were fas.h.i.+oned.
Indeed, it seemed hardly possible that they could be brother and sister, a remark constantly made by the audience, and the kindred announced on the bills was generally viewed as one of those convenient relations.h.i.+ps often a.s.sumed on the stage, but having no more reality than those of the dramatis personae themselves.
"A second Pasta!" cried Chateau-Renaud, entering the stalls immediately on the descent of the curtain. "Heard you ever such a magnificent contralto?"
"Saw you ever such a magnificent bust?" asked Beauchamp.
"Were it not for a few manifest impossibilities," thoughtfully remarked Debray, "I should swear that this same angelic Louise d'Armilly was no other than a certain very beautiful, very eccentric and very talented young lady whom we all once knew as a star of Parisian fas.h.i.+on, and who, the last time she was in this house, sat in the same loge where now sit the African generals."
"Whom can you mean, Debray?" cried Beauchamp.
"A certain haughty young lady, who was to have married an Italian Prince, but, on the night of the bridal, in the midst of the festivities, the house being thronged with guests, and even while the contract was receiving the signatures, the Prince was arrested as an escaped galley-slave, and at his trial proved to be the illegitimate son of the bride's mother and a certain high legal functionary, the Procureur du Roi, now at Charenton, through whose burning zeal for justice the horrible discovery transpired."
"Ha!" exclaimed Chateau-Renaud. "You cannot mean Eugenie Danglars, daughter of the bankrupt baron, whom our unhappy friend Morcerf was once to have wed?"
"The very same," quietly rejoined the Secretary; "but this lady cannot be Mlle. Danglars, I say absolutely, for many sufficient reasons," he quickly added; then, as if to turn the conversation, he hastily remarked: "Ah! there are M. Dantes and M. Lamartine, as usual, together."
"M. Dantes!" exclaimed the Count, in surprise, looking around.
"Impossible!"
"And yet most true," observed Beauchamp; "in the third loge from the Minister's to the right. What a wonderful resemblance there is between those men--the poet and the Deputy! One would suppose them brothers. The same tall and elegant figure, the same white and capacious brow, the same dark, blazing eye, the same raven hair, and, above all, the same most unearthly and spiritual pallor of complexion."
"No wonder M. Dantes is pale," said the Count. "Have you not heard of the occurrence of this evening in the Chamber? M. Dantes was in the midst of one of his powerful harangues against the Government, when suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he stopped--coughed violently several times, and pressed his handkerchief to his mouth; then taking a small vial from his vest pocket, he placed it to his lips, and instantaneously, as if new life had entered him, proceeded more eloquently than ever to the conclusion of his speech."
"I heard something of this," said Beauchamp.
"As he descended from the tribune his friends thronged around him, anxious about his health. He quieted their apprehensions with his peculiar smile of a.s.surance, but I observed that his white handkerchief was spotted with blood, and he almost immediately left the Chamber."
"That man will kill himself in the cause he has espoused," remarked Debray. "See how ghastly he now looks. But so much the better for the Ministry. He is a formidable foe. Indeed, that loge contains the two most powerful opponents of the Government."
"And who are those men just entering the box?" asked Beauchamp.
"None other than the two rival astronomers of Europe," said Debray, "and yet most intimate friends. The taller and elder, the one with gray hair, a dark, sharp Bedouin countenance, and that large, wild, black eye, with a smile of mingled sarcasm and humor ever on his thin lip, is Emanuel Arago. The other, the short, robust man, with fair complexion, sandy hair, bright blue eye and vivacious expression, is Le Verrier, the most tireless star-gazer science has produced since Galileo. But hus.h.!.+ the curtain is up."
"Oh! it matters not," said the Count; "only Gennaro and the Spaniard appear in the second act, and I have neither eyes nor ears save for the d.u.c.h.ess to-night. But who are those, Beauchamp?"
"Where?"
"In the loge on the first tier, next to the Minister's and directly opposite to that of M. Dantes?"
"Ah! two officers of the Spahis and two most exquisite women!" exclaimed Debray. "They belong, doubtless, to the African party in the Minister's loge. Your lorgnette, Count. What a splendid woman!"
Hardly had the Secretary raised the gla.s.s to his eyes before he dropped it with the exclamation:
"A miracle! a miracle!"
"What?" cried both of the other young men, turning to the box at which Debray was gazing.