Monte Cristo motioned him to be silent.
"Come," said he, laughing, "there are all my hopes about to be destroyed."
"How so?" asked Beauchamp.
"Doubtless you wish to make me appear a very eccentric character. I am, in your opinion, a Lara, a Manfred, a Lord Ruthven; then, just as I am arriving at the climax, you defeat your own end, and seek to make an ordinary man of me.
You bring me down to your own level, and demand explanations!
Indeed, M. Beauchamp, it is quite laughable."
"Yet," replied Beauchamp haughtily, "there are occasions when probity commands"--
"M. Beauchamp," interposed this strange man, "the Count of Monte Cristo bows to none but the Count of Monte Cristo himself.
Say no more, I entreat you.
I do what I please, M. Beauchamp, and it is always well done."
"Sir," replied the young man, "honest men are not to be paid with such coin. I require honorable guaranties."
"I am, sir, a living guaranty," replied Monte Cristo, motionless, but with a threatening look; "we have both blood in our veins which we wish to shed--that is our mutual guaranty.
Tell the viscount so, and that to-morrow, before ten o'clock, I shall see what color his is."
"Then I have only to make arrangements for the duel," said Beauchamp.
"It is quite immaterial to me," said Monte Cristo, "and it was very unnecessary to disturb me at the opera for such a trifle.
In France people fight with the sword or pistol, in the colonies with the carbine, in Arabia with the dagger.
Tell your client that, although I am the insulted party, in order to carry out my eccentricity, I leave him the choice of arms, and will accept without discussion, without dispute, anything, even combat by drawing lots, which is always stupid, but with me different from other people, as I am sure to gain."
"Sure to gain!" repeated Beauchamp, looking with amazement at the count.
"Certainly," said Monte Cristo, slightly shrugging his shoulders; "otherwise I would not fight with M. de Morcerf.
I shall kill him--I cannot help it.
Only by a single line this evening at my house let me know the arms and the hour; I do not like to be kept waiting."
"Pistols, then, at eight o'clock, in the Bois de Vincennes," said Beauchamp, quite disconcerted, not knowing if he was dealing with an arrogant braggadocio or a supernatural being.
"Very well, sir," said Monte Cristo. "Now all that is settled, do let me see the performance, and tell your friend Albert not to come any more this evening; he will hurt himself with all his ill-chosen barbarisms: let him go home and go to sleep."
Beauchamp left the box, perfectly amazed.
"Now," said Monte Cristo, turning towards Morrel, "I may depend upon you, may I not?"
"Certainly," said Morrel, "I am at your service, count; still"--
"What?"
"It is desirable I should know the real cause."
"That is to say, you would rather not?"
"No."
"The young man himself is acting blindfolded, and knows not the true cause, which is known only to God and to me; but I give you my word, Morrel, that God, who does know it, will be on our side."
"Enough," said Morrel; "who is your second witness?"
"I know no one in Paris, Morrel, on whom I could confer that honor besides you and your brother Emmanuel.
Do you think Emmanuel would oblige me?"
"I will answer for him, count."
"Well? that is all I require.
To-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, you will be with me, will you not?"
"We will."
"Hush, the curtain is rising. Listen!
I never lose a note of this opera if I can avoid it; the music of William Tell is so sweet."
Chapter 89.
A Nocturnal Interview.
Monte Cristo waited, according to his usual custom, until Duprez had sung his famous
"Suivez-moi;" then he rose and went out.
Morrel took leave of him at the door, renewing his promise to be with him the next morning at seven o'clock, and to bring Emmanuel.
Then he stepped into his coupe, calm and smiling, and was at home in five minutes.
No one who knew the count could mistake his expression when, on entering, he said,
"Ali, bring me my pistols with the ivory cross."
Ali brought the box to his master, who examined the weapons with a solicitude very natural to a man who is about to intrust his life to a little powder and shot.
These were pistols of an especial pattern, which Monte Cristo had had made for target practice in his own room.