The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter 95. Father and Daughter

  We saw in a preceding chapter how Madame Danglars went formally toannounce to Madame de Villefort the approaching marriage of EugénieDanglars and M. Andrea Cavalcanti. This formal announcement, whichimplied or appeared to imply, the approval of all the persons concernedin this momentous affair, had been preceded by a scene to which ourreaders must be admitted. We beg them to take one step backward, and totransport themselves, the morning of that day of great catastrophes,into the showy, gilded salon we have before shown them, and which wasthe pride of its owner, Baron Danglars.

  In this room, at about ten o’clock in the morning, the banker himselfhad been walking to and fro for some minutes thoughtfully and in evidentuneasiness, watching both doors, and listening to every sound. When hispatience was exhausted, he called his valet.

  “Étienne,” said he, “see why Mademoiselle Eugénie has asked me to meether in the drawing-room, and why she makes me wait so long.”

  Having given this vent to his ill-humor, the baron became more calm;Mademoiselle Danglars had that morning requested an interview with herfather, and had fixed on the gilded drawing-room as the spot. Thesingularity of this step, and above all its formality, had not a littlesurprised the banker, who had immediately obeyed his daughter byrepairing first to the drawing-room. Étienne soon returned from hiserrand.

  “Mademoiselle’s lady’s maid says, sir, that mademoiselle is finishingher toilette, and will be here shortly.”

  Danglars nodded, to signify that he was satisfied. To the world and tohis servants Danglars assumed the character of the good-natured man andthe indulgent father. This was one of his parts in the popular comedy hewas performing,—a make-up he had adopted and which suited him about aswell as the masks worn on the classic stage by paternal actors, who seenfrom one side, were the image of geniality, and from the other showedlips drawn down in chronic ill-temper. Let us hasten to say that inprivate the genial side descended to the level of the other, so thatgenerally the indulgent man disappeared to give place to the brutalhusband and domineering father.

  “Why the devil does that foolish girl, who pretends to wish to speak tome, not come into my study? and why on earth does she want to speak tome at all?”

  He was turning this thought over in his brain for the twentieth time,when the door opened and Eugénie appeared, attired in a figured blacksatin dress, her hair dressed and gloves on, as if she were going to theItalian Opera.

  “Well, Eugénie, what is it you want with me? and why in this solemndrawing-room when the study is so comfortable?”

  “I quite understand why you ask, sir,” said Eugénie, making a sign thather father might be seated, “and in fact your two questions suggestfully the theme of our conversation. I will answer them both, andcontrary to the usual method, the last first, because it is the leastdifficult. I have chosen the drawing-room, sir, as our place of meeting,in order to avoid the disagreeable impressions and influences of abanker’s study. Those gilded cashbooks, drawers locked like gates offortresses, heaps of bank-bills, come from I know not where, and thequantities of letters from England, Holland, Spain, India, China, andPeru, have generally a strange influence on a father’s mind, and makehim forget that there is in the world an interest greater and moresacred than the good opinion of his correspondents. I have, therefore,chosen this drawing-room, where you see, smiling and happy in theirmagnificent frames, your portrait, mine, my mother’s, and all sorts ofrural landscapes and touching pastorals. I rely much on externalimpressions; perhaps, with regard to you, they are immaterial, but Ishould be no artist if I had not some fancies.”

  “Very well,” replied M. Danglars, who had listened to all this preamblewith imperturbable coolness, but without understanding a word, sincelike every man burdened with thoughts of the past, he was occupied withseeking the thread of his own ideas in those of the speaker.

  “There is, then, the second point cleared up, or nearly so,” saidEugénie, without the least confusion, and with that masculinepointedness which distinguished her gesture and her language; “and youappear satisfied with the explanation. Now, let us return to the first.You ask me why I have requested this interview; I will tell you in twowords, sir; I will not marry count Andrea Cavalcanti.”

  Danglars leaped from his chair and raised his eyes and arms towardsheaven.

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  “Yes, indeed, sir,” continued Eugénie, still quite calm; “you areastonished, I see; for since this little affair began, I have notmanifested the slightest opposition, and yet I am always sure, when theopportunity arrives, to oppose a determined and absolute will to peoplewho have not consulted me, and things which displease me. However, thistime, my tranquillity, or passiveness as philosophers say, proceededfrom another source; it proceeded from a wish, like a submissive anddevoted daughter” (a slight smile was observable on the purple lips ofthe young girl), “to practice obedience.”

  “Well?” asked Danglars.

  “Well, sir,” replied Eugénie, “I have tried to the very last and nowthat the moment has come, I feel in spite of all my efforts that it isimpossible.”

  “But,” said Danglars, whose weak mind was at first quite overwhelmedwith the weight of this pitiless logic, marking evident premeditationand force of will, “what is your reason for this refusal, Eugénie? whatreason do you assign?”

  “My reason?” replied the young girl. “Well, it is not that the man ismore ugly, more foolish, or more disagreeable than any other; no, M.Andrea Cavalcanti may appear to those who look at men’s faces andfigures as a very good specimen of his kind. It is not, either, that myheart is less touched by him than any other; that would be aschoolgirl’s reason, which I consider quite beneath me. I actually loveno one, sir; you know it, do you not? I do not then see why, withoutreal necessity, I should encumber my life with a perpetual companion.Has not some sage said, ‘Nothing too much’? and another, ‘I carry all myeffects with me’? I have been taught these two aphorisms in Latin and inGreek; one is, I believe, from Phædrus, and the other from Bias. Well,my dear father, in the shipwreck of life—for life is an eternalshipwreck of our hopes—I cast into the sea my useless encumbrance, thatis all, and I remain with my own will, disposed to live perfectly alone,and consequently perfectly free.”

  “Unhappy girl, unhappy girl!” murmured Danglars, turning pale, for heknew from long experience the solidity of the obstacle he had sosuddenly encountered.

  “Unhappy girl,” replied Eugénie, “unhappy girl, do you say, sir? No,indeed; the exclamation appears quite theatrical and affected. Happy, onthe contrary, for what am I in want of? The world calls me beautiful. Itis something to be well received. I like a favorable reception; itexpands the countenance, and those around me do not then appear so ugly.I possess a share of wit, and a certain relative sensibility, whichenables me to draw from life in general, for the support of mine, all Imeet with that is good, like the monkey who cracks the nut to get at itscontents. I am rich, for you have one of the first fortunes in France. Iam your only daughter, and you are not so exacting as the fathers of thePorte Saint-Martin and Gaîté, who disinherit their daughters for notgiving them grandchildren. Besides, the provident law has deprived youof the power to disinherit me, at least entirely, as it has also of thepower to compel me to marry Monsieur This or Monsieur That. Andso—being, beautiful, witty, somewhat talented, as the comic operas say,and rich—and that is happiness, sir—why do you call me unhappy?”

  Danglars, seeing his daughter smiling, and proud even to insolence,could not entirely repress his brutal feelings, but they betrayedthemselves only by an exclamation. Under the fixed and inquiring gazelevelled at him from under those beautiful black eyebrows, he prudentlyturned away, and calmed himself immediately, daunted by the power of aresolute mind.

  “Truly, my daughter,” replied he with a smile, “you are all you boast ofbeing, excepting one thing; I will not too hastily tell you which, butwould rather leave you to guess it.”

  Eugénie looked a
t Danglars, much surprised that one flower of her crownof pride, with which she had so superbly decked herself, should bedisputed.

  “My daughter,” continued the banker, “you have perfectly explained to methe sentiments which influence a girl like you, who is determined shewill not marry; now it remains for me to tell you the motives of afather like me, who has decided that his daughter shall marry.”

  Eugénie bowed, not as a submissive daughter, but as an adversaryprepared for a discussion.

  “My daughter,” continued Danglars, “when a father asks his daughter tochoose a husband, he has always some reason for wishing her to marry.Some are affected with the mania of which you spoke just now, that ofliving again in their grandchildren. This is not my weakness, I tell youat once; family joys have no charm for me. I may acknowledge this to adaughter whom I know to be philosophical enough to understand myindifference, and not to impute it to me as a crime.”

  “This is not to the purpose,” said Eugénie; “let us speak candidly, sir;I admire candor.”

  “Oh,” said Danglars, “I can, when circumstances render it desirable,adopt your system, although it may not be my general practice. I willtherefore proceed. I have proposed to you to marry, not for your sake,for indeed I did not think of you in the least at the moment (you admirecandor, and will now be satisfied, I hope); but because it suited me tomarry you as soon as possible, on account of certain commercialspeculations I am desirous of entering into.” Eugénie became uneasy.

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  “It is just as I tell you, I assure you, and you must not be angry withme, for you have sought this disclosure. I do not willingly enter intoarithmetical explanations with an artist like you, who fears to enter mystudy lest she should imbibe disagreeable or anti-poetic impressions andsensations. But in that same banker’s study, where you very willinglypresented yourself yesterday to ask for the thousand francs I give youmonthly for pocket-money, you must know, my dear young lady, that manythings may be learned, useful even to a girl who will not marry. Thereone may learn, for instance, what, out of regard to your nervoussusceptibility, I will inform you of in the drawing-room, namely, thatthe credit of a banker is his physical and moral life; that creditsustains him as breath animates the body; and M. de Monte Cristo oncegave me a lecture on that subject, which I have never forgotten. Therewe may learn that as credit sinks, the body becomes a corpse, and thisis what must happen very soon to the banker who is proud to own so gooda logician as you for his daughter.”

  But Eugénie, instead of stooping, drew herself up under the blow.“Ruined?” said she.

  “Exactly, my daughter; that is precisely what I mean,” said Danglars,almost digging his nails into his breast, while he preserved on hisharsh features the smile of the heartless though clever man;“ruined—yes, that is it.”

  “Ah!” said Eugénie.

  “Yes, ruined! Now it is revealed, this secret so full of horror, as thetragic poet says. Now, my daughter, learn from my lips how you mayalleviate this misfortune, so far as it will affect you.”

  “Oh,” cried Eugénie, “you are a bad physiognomist, if you imagine Ideplore on my own account the catastrophe of which you warn me. Iruined? and what will that signify to me? Have I not my talent left? CanI not, like Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, acquire for myself what you wouldnever have given me, whatever might have been your fortune, a hundred ora hundred and fifty thousand livres per annum, for which I shall beindebted to no one but myself; and which, instead of being given as yougave me those poor twelve thousand francs, with sour looks andreproaches for my prodigality, will be accompanied with acclamations,with bravos, and with flowers? And if I do not possess that talent,which your smiles prove to me you doubt, should I not still have thatardent love of independence, which will be a substitute for wealth, andwhich in my mind supersedes even the instinct of self-preservation? No,I grieve not on my own account, I shall always find a resource; mybooks, my pencils, my piano, all the things which cost but little, andwhich I shall be able to procure, will remain my own.

  “Do you think that I sorrow for Madame Danglars? Undeceive yourselfagain; either I am greatly mistaken, or she has provided against thecatastrophe which threatens you, and, which will pass over withoutaffecting her. She has taken care for herself,—at least I hope so,—forher attention has not been diverted from her projects by watching overme. She has fostered my independence by professedly indulging my lovefor liberty. Oh, no, sir; from my childhood I have seen too much, andunderstood too much, of what has passed around me, for misfortune tohave an undue power over me. From my earliest recollections, I have beenbeloved by no one—so much the worse; that has naturally led me to loveno one—so much the better—now you have my profession of faith.”

  “Then,” said Danglars, pale with anger, which was not at all due tooffended paternal love,—“then, mademoiselle, you persist in yourdetermination to accelerate my ruin?”

  “Your ruin? I accelerate your ruin? What do you mean? I do notunderstand you.”

  “So much the better, I have a ray of hope left; listen.”

  “I am all attention,” said Eugénie, looking so earnestly at her fatherthat it was an effort for the latter to endure her unrelenting gaze.

  “M. Cavalcanti,” continued Danglars, “is about to marry you, and willplace in my hands his fortune, amounting to three million livres.”

  “That is admirable!” said Eugénie with sovereign contempt, smoothing hergloves out one upon the other.

  “You think I shall deprive you of those three millions,” said Danglars;“but do not fear it. They are destined to produce at least ten. I and abrother banker have obtained a grant of a railway, the only industrialenterprise which in these days promises to make good the fabulousprospects that Law once held out to the eternally deluded Parisians, inthe fantastic Mississippi scheme. As I look at it, a millionth part of arailway is worth fully as much as an acre of waste land on the banks ofthe Ohio. We make in our case a deposit, on a mortgage, which is anadvance, as you see, since we gain at least ten, fifteen, twenty, or ahundred livres’ worth of iron in exchange for our money. Well, within aweek I am to deposit four millions for my share; the four millions, Ipromise you, will produce ten or twelve.”

  “But during my visit to you the day before yesterday, sir, which youappear to recollect so well,” replied Eugénie, “I saw you arranging adeposit—is not that the term?—of five millions and a half; you evenpointed it out to me in two drafts on the treasury, and you wereastonished that so valuable a paper did not dazzle my eyes likelightning.”

  “Yes, but those five millions and a half are not mine, and are only aproof of the great confidence placed in me; my title of popular bankerhas gained me the confidence of charitable institutions, and the fivemillions and a half belong to them; at any other time I should not havehesitated to make use of them, but the great losses I have recentlysustained are well known, and, as I told you, my credit is rathershaken. That deposit may be at any moment withdrawn, and if I hademployed it for another purpose, I should bring on me a disgracefulbankruptcy. I do not despise bankruptcies, believe me, but they must bethose which enrich, not those which ruin. Now, if you marry M.Cavalcanti, and I get the three millions, or even if it is thought I amgoing to get them, my credit will be restored, and my fortune, which forthe last month or two has been swallowed up in gulfs which have beenopened in my path by an inconceivable fatality, will revive. Do youunderstand me?”

  “Perfectly; you pledge me for three millions, do you not?”

  “The greater the amount, the more flattering it is to you; it gives youan idea of your value.”

  “Thank you. One word more, sir; do you promise me to make what use youcan of the report of the fortune M. Cavalcanti will bring withouttouching the money? This is no act of selfishness, but of delicacy. I amwilling to help rebuild your fortune, but I will not be an accomplice inthe ruin of others.”

  “But since I tell you,” cried Danglars, “that with these threemillion——”

  “
Do you expect to recover your position, sir, without touching thosethree million?”

  “I hope so, if the marriage should take place and confirm my credit.”

  “Shall you be able to pay M. Cavalcanti the five hundred thousand francsyou promise for my dowry?”

  “He shall receive them on returning from the mayor’s20.”

  “Very well!”

  “What next? what more do you want?”

  “I wish to know if, in demanding my signature, you leave me entirelyfree in my person?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then, as I said before, sir,—very well; I am ready to marry M.Cavalcanti.”

  “But what are you up to?”

  “Ah, that is my affair. What advantage should I have over you, ifknowing your secret I were to tell you mine?”

  Danglars bit his lips. “Then,” said he, “you are ready to pay theofficial visits, which are absolutely indispensable?”

  “Yes,” replied Eugénie.

  “And to sign the contract in three days?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, in my turn, I also say, very well!”

  Danglars pressed his daughter’s hand in his. But, extraordinary torelate, the father did not say, “Thank you, my child,” nor did thedaughter smile at her father.

  “Is the conference ended?” asked Eugénie, rising.

  Danglars motioned that he had nothing more to say. Five minutesafterwards the piano resounded to the touch of Mademoiselle d’Armilly’sfingers, and Mademoiselle Danglars was singing Brabantio’s maledictionon Desdemona. At the end of the piece Étienne entered, and announced toEugénie that the horses were to the carriage, and that the baroness waswaiting for her to pay her visits. We have seen them at Villefort’s;they proceeded then on their course.

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  VOLUME FIVE

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