The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume II

by Jules Lermina

  CHAPTER XXX

  JANE ZILD

  On the night of the party, Gontram's room looked lovely, and when theguests arrived they could not refrain from expressing their admiration.The Oriental hangings gave the whole a piquant appearance, and Gontramknew where to stop, an art which few understand. The society whichassembled in the painter's studio was a very exceptional one. Many arich banker would have given a great deal if he could have won some ofthe artists who assembled here for his private _soirees_, for the firststars of the opera, the drama and literature had accepted theinvitation. Rachel had offered to do the honors; Emma Bouges, asculptress, assisted her, and Gontram was satisfied.

  The painter had told the vicomte that he desired to revenge himself uponCount Vellini. The other reason he had for giving this party he saidnothing of, and yet it was the one which did honor to his heart. Underthe pretence of surprising the count, he had asked his numerous friendsto loan him their pictures, and had hung them in splendid style. Of hisown works he only exhibited the gypsy, and when the guests strode up anddown the studio to the music of a small orchestra, it was natural thatthey criticised or admired this and that painting.

  Count Vellini, a splendid old gentleman, was enthusiastic over thecause of the party. He gave the secretary who accompanied him directionsto buy several of the exhibited paintings, and the secretary carefullynoted everything.

  Signor Fagiano, the secretary, was not a very agreeable-lookinggentleman. A blood-red scar ran clear across his face, his deep blackeyes had a sharp, restless look, and one of the young partners jokinglysaid:

  "If I did not know that Signor Fagiano had charge of the count'sfinances, I would suspect him of robbing his employer--he has a badlook."

  While the young man uttered these joking remarks, new guests wereannounced, and their names, "Monsieur de Larsagny and Mademoiselle deLarsagny," created surprise among the guests. Monsieur de Larsagny wasthe manager of the new credit-bank, and every one was astonished atGontram's acquaintance with him. However, as soon as Mademoiselle deLarsagny was seen to enter the room leaning on her father's arm, theriddle was solved. The classical head of the young girl graced the last_salon_, and as Gontram had painted the picture, no one wondered anylonger at seeing the handsome Carmen and her father in the studio.

  The young girl appeared to be somewhat eccentric, a thing which was notlooked upon as strange in the daughter of a millionnaire. Nevertheless,the pranks of the young heiress never overstepped the bounds ofpropriety, and the numerous admirers of the beautiful Carmen thought heron this account all the more piquant. Her ash-blond hair fell in athousand locks over a dazzling white forehead, and the small, finelyformed mouth understood how to talk.

  Hanging to Gontram's arm, Carmen walked up and down the studio. Shesometimes directed her dark-blue eyes at the young painter, and whocould scold Gontram if he loved to look in those magnificent stars?

  "I am thankful to you, mademoiselle, for having come here," saidGontram, sparkling with joy, as he walked by the young girl's side.

  "How could I have refused your cordial invitation?" replied Carmen,laughing; "even princesses have visited the studios of their courtpainters."

  "The Duchess of Ferrara, for instance," said a young sculptor who hadoverheard the remark.

  Gontram frowned, and whispered softly to the young artist:

  "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Raoul."

  Carmen, however, laughed, and carelessly said:

  "Let him alone; I knew the story long ago."

  To make this little scene understood, we must observe that the youngsculptor's words referred to that Duchess of Ferrara whom Titian paintedin the primitive costume of Mother Eve, and it stung the young painterto the heart when he heard Carmen confess that she had heard the storybefore--who could have told it to the nineteen-year-old girl?

  "What about the surprise you were going to give your guests?" askedCarmen, after an uncomfortable pause.

  "I will keep my word," replied the painter, laughing. "Have you everheard the name of Jane Zild, mademoiselle?"

  "Jane Zild? That wonderful songstress who comes from the north, eitherLapland or Finland? What is the matter with her?"

  "Well, this songstress, who, by the way, comes from Russia, has promisedto be here to-night," declared Gontram, triumphantly.

  "Ah, really?" replied Carmen, breathing heavily, while her eyes shotforth threatening gleams.

  "What ails you, mademoiselle?" asked Gontram uneasily, "have I hurt youin any way?"

  "No; what makes you think so? But let us go to the parlor; my father isalready looking for me, and you know he can't be long without me."

  A curious laugh issued from the pale lips, and it seemed to Gontram asif she had accented the words "my father" in a peculiar way.

  Just as Gontram and his companion re-entered the parlor, a short butunpleasant scene was being acted there. An accident had brought SignorFagiano and Monsieur de Larsagny together. Hardly had the secretarycaught a glimpse of the banker than he recoiled in affright and nearlyfell to the ground. Larsagny sprang to his rescue, but Fagiano mutteredan excuse and hastily left the parlor.

  Carmen and her companion were witnesses of the meeting, and Gontram feltthe young girl's arm tremble. Before he could ask for the cause of this,she laughed aloud and mockingly said:

  "A good host has generally several surprises _in petto_ for his guests;are you an exception to the general rule?"

  Gontram was about to reply when the door was opened and the servantannounced:

  "Mademoiselle Jane Zild, the Vicomte of Monte-Cristo!"

  "There you have my second surprise," said the painter, laughing; "areyou satisfied now?"

  Gontram did not find out whether this was the case, for the brokeruttered a cry at the same moment and stretched his hands out as if toward off a spectre.

  "What has happened to you, Monsieur de Larsagny?" asked Gontram inamazement. "You are so pale and you tremble. Can I do anything for you?"

  "No, thank you--it is the heat," stammered Larsagny. "Will you permit meto go on the terrace? I will recover in the fresh air."

  Without deigning to notice Carmen, the banker turned toward the glassdoor which led to the terrace and disappeared. The young girl bit herlips, and the next minute she was the centre of a gay crowd of admirers.

  Gontram in the meantime had gone to meet the young lady who had justentered. She was a wonderfully handsome girl, and taking the painter'sarm she slowly walked through the decorated rooms.

  Who Jane Zild was no one knew. Two months previously she had made herappearance in Paris society, and since then it was considered good formto patronize Jane Zild.

  The members of the Opera and other theatres had arranged a performancefor the relief of the inhabitants of a village which had been destroyedby fire, and the elegant world of the capital fairly grew wild withenthusiasm over the coming event.

  The climax of the performance was to be a duet, to be sung by the greatRoger and a diva who was past her youth. Half an hour before the numberwas to be sung a messenger arrived who announced the sickness of thediva. Roger immediately declared his willingness to sing alone, and loudapplause ran through the crowded auditorium when he sang the charmingsong from the "White Lady," "Ah, what a joy it is to be a soldier!"

  The success of the first part of the concert was assured. Before thesecond part began a strange young lady went to the celebrated singer andoffered to take the part of Madame X----, and sing several songs.

  "What is your name, mademoiselle?" asked Roger.

  "My name will be unknown to you, as I have only been two days in Paris,"replied the stranger, laughing. "I am Jane Zild. Perhaps you will allowme to sing something to you first. Will the beggar aria from the'Prophet' be agreeable to you?"

  Without waiting for answer Jane Zild went to the piano.

  The accompanist struck the first notes of the well-known aria, andhardly had Roger heard the magnificent contralto of the stranger than heenthusiastically exclaimed:


  "Thank God, Madame X---- is sick!"

  "That is treason!" scolded the young lady; but the public seemed to beof the same opinion as Roger, and rewarded the young songstress, whenshe had finished, with round after round of applause. Encouraged by theapplause, she sang the aria from "Orpheus"--"Ah, I have lost her, all myhappiness is gone." This set the audience wild.

  For two days nothing else was talked of in Paris but the youngsongstress. Jane Zild lived in a house in the Champs-Elysees. She hadarrived, as she said, but a few days before from Russia, in company withan elderly man, who was looked upon as her steward, and whom she calledMelosan.

  The reporters had seized upon these meagre details and magnified them.According to them, Jane Zild was the daughter of a rich Russiannobleman. An unconquerable yearning for the stage brought her inconflict with her father, and, burdened with his curse, she ran awayfrom home. If in spite of this she did not go on the stage it was notthe reporters' fault.

  The young lady was very capricious, and had refused the most temptingoffers from the management of the Opera. She also refused to sing forthe Emperor at Compiegne, and it therefore caused a sensation amongGontram's guests when Jane Zild suddenly appeared.

  "Gontram's luck is really extraordinary," said a colleague of the youngpainter laughingly, as he saw the majestic figure of the diva enter theroom. What would he have said if he had heard in what way Gontram hadsecured Jane Zild as one of his guests?

  While the young painter was breakfasting with Spero, a perfumed note wassent up to his residence in the Rue Montaigne, wherein Jane Zilddeclared her willingness to appear in the painter's parlors and sing afew songs.

  Gontram did not say no, and immediately hurried to the diva's house tothank her.

  Spero had entered just behind the songstress, and Gontram smiled when hesaw the vicomte. Spero's carriage had driven up in front of the housealmost simultaneously with that of the diva, and Spero assisted theyoung lady to alight.

  When the vicomte entered the parlor, he felt humiliated when he saw alleyes turned in the direction of the diva. No one seemed to care tonotice the heir of the Count of Monte-Cristo.

  Jane Zild strode the rooms with the dignity of a queen.

  "Heavenly! Admirable! Beautiful!" Such were the epithets which weremurmured half aloud, and later when she sat down at the piano and sang asimple ballad, loud applause ran through the room. The ballad wasfollowed by an aria; Jane then sang a Russian melody, and closed with amagnificent tarantella.

  "Monsieur Sabran," said a low voice to Gontram, "I must confess that youare an obliging host! You are forgetting all your other guests onaccount of the beautiful songstress, and I will reflect upon a suitablepunishment."

  The one who spoke was Carmen de Larsagny. Gontram blushed and madeexcuses, but it took some time to appease the young lady's wrath.

  "Well," she finally said, "I will forgive you, but only upon onecondition. Have you a moment's time?"

  "For you always," replied the painter, warmly.

  "Good; then conduct me to the terrace."

  "To the terrace?" repeated Gontram in surprise. "How do you know I havea terrace?"

  "Oh, I heard my father mention it a little while ago."

  "That's so," replied the painter. "Will you please accompany me?"

  They both walked through the studio and turned into the gallery.

  Suddenly Gontram paused, and uttered a low cry of astonishment.

  Spero was leaning against a door sunk in thought.

  "Can I introduce the young man to you?" asked Gontram softly of hiscompanion.

  "Who is he?" replied Carmen.

  "The Vicomte of Monte-Cristo!"

  "What? The son of the celebrated count?" asked the young lady, lookingat Spero with increased interest.

  "Yes. I have a high regard for the vicomte."

  "I could have thought so," said Carmen, laughing.

  "What do you mean by that, mademoiselle?" asked Gontram in surprise.

  "Oh, you see you have the habit of caring very little for those whom youpretend to honor," replied the young girl, looking at the painter insuch a way as made his heart beat fast.

  "I hope to be able soon to prove my esteem for you," whispered the youngman.

  Carmen was for a moment silent, and then vivaciously said:

  "Introduce me; I am curious to know your little vicomte."

  Just then Spero raised his head, and, seeing Gontram, he cordially said:

  "Gontram, am I not deserving of praise? You see I have accepted yourinvitation."

  "I am very grateful to you," replied the painter warmly, and turning toCarmen he said:

  "Mademoiselle de Larsagny, permit me to introduce the Vicomte ofMonte-Cristo to you."

  Spero bowed deeply. The young lady gazed steadily at the handsomecavalier, and admiration shone in her eyes.

  "I really have not had the pleasure of seeing the vicomte. I should nothave forgotten him."

  "I believe you," said the painter; "the vicomte is, by the way, a manof serious ideas, an ascetic, who does not care for worldly pleasures."

  Spero protested with a shake of the head, and muttered some disconnectedwords. Carmen, however, noticed that his thoughts were elsewhere.

  "Mademoiselle de Larsagny," said Gontram, laughing now, "I hope that youand the other ladies here will succeed in converting the hermit."

  Carmen was dissatisfied with the vicomte's indifference, and, bowingcoldly, she went away, drawing the painter with her.

  "Well, how does my eccentric please you?" asked Gontram.

  "H'm, he is very handsome; whether he is intellectual, I cannot tell. Isthe father of the little vicomte really the knight without fear andreproach, the hero of Dumas' novel?"

  "The same."

  "And has this man--Edmond Dantes was his right name--really had all theadventurous wanderings imputed to him?"

  "I am sure of it."

  "One more question. It might appear strange to you, but I must ask itnevertheless. Do you know whether Monsieur de Larsagny ever had anyrelations with the count?"

  "I do not know, in fact I hardly think so. Your father has been livingin Paris but a few years, and the count has not been in Paris for anygreat length of time during the past ten years. He is almost alwaystravelling. I believe there is no country on earth which he has notvisited, and he is again absent. However, if it interests you, I willmake inquiries and--"

  "Not for any price," interrupted Carmen, laughing; "let us drop thesubject and hurry to the terrace before others get there ahead of us."

  "We are there already," said Gontram, laughing, as he shoved a Japanesedrapery aside and stepped upon a small balcony with his companion. Abeautiful view of the Champs-Elysees was had from here.

  At that time the many mansions which now fill the Champs-Elysees werenot yet built, and the eye reached far down the beautiful lanes to thePlace de la Concorde.

  The two young persons stood upon the little terrace, and the spring windplayed with Carmen's golden locks and fanned Gontram's cheeks.

  The young girl now leaned over the railing, and, breathing the balsamicair, she sighed:

  "Ah, how beautiful and peaceful it is here."

  Gontram had his arm about the young girl's slim waist, and carried awayby his feelings he pressed a kiss upon Carmen's coral-red lips. Theyoung girl returned the kiss, and who knows but that they would havecontinued their osculatory exercise had not a voice close to the terracesaid:

  "Take care, Monsieur de Larsagny, that you do not try to find out myname. You will know it sooner than will be agreeable to you."

  Carmen shuddered, and leaning far over, she tried to espy the speakers.However, she could not see any one, though some passionate words reachedher from below; Gontram, on the other hand, felt like strangling thedisturbers.

  "Let us go back to the parlor," said the young girl, and it seemed toGontram that her voice had changed in tone.

  He silently opened the drapery and brought his companion ba
ck to thestudio; when they entered it, the vicomte hurried to the painter, andsaid in a low tone:

  "Gontram, have you a minute for me? I must speak to you."