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passed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one took `
`
his place. "Gentlemen," said the count, seating himself, `
`
"permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse `
`
for any improprieties I may commit. I am a stranger, and a `
`
stranger to such a degree, that this is the first time I `
`
have ever been at Paris. The French way of living is utterly `
`
unknown to me, and up to the present time I have followed `
`
the Eastern customs, which are entirely in contrast to the `
`
Parisian. I beg you, therefore, to excuse if you find `
`
anything in me too Turkish, too Italian, or too Arabian. `
`
Now, then, let us breakfast." `
`
`
`
"With what an air he says all this," muttered Beauchamp; `
`
"decidedly he is a great man." `
`
`
`
"A great man in his own country," added Debray. `
`
`
`
"A great man in every country, M. Debray," said `
`
Chateau-Renaud. The count was, it may be remembered, a most `
`
temperate guest. Albert remarked this, expressing his fears `
`
lest, at the outset, the Parisian mode of life should `
`
displease the traveller in the most essential point. "My `
`
dear count," said he, "I fear one thing, and that is, that `
`
the fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your taste `
`
as that of the Piazza di Spagni. I ought to have consulted `
`
you on the point, and have had some dishes prepared `
`
expressly." `
`
`
`
"Did you know me better," returned the count, smiling, "you `
`
would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller `
`
like myself, who has successively lived on maccaroni at `
`
Naples, polenta at Milan, olla podrida at Valencia, pilau at `
`
Constantinople, karrick in India, and swallows' nests in `
`
China. I eat everywhere, and of everything, only I eat but `
`
little; and to-day, that you reproach me with my want of `
`
appetite, is my day of appetite, for I have not eaten since `
`
yesterday morning." `
`
`
`
"What," cried all the guests, "you have not eaten for four `
`
and twenty hours?" `
`
`
`
"No," replied the count; "I was forced to go out of my road `
`
to obtain some information near Nimes, so that I was `
`
somewhat late, and therefore I did not choose to stop." `
`
`
`
"And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf. `
`
`
`
"No, I slept, as I generally do when I am weary without `
`
having the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungry `
`
without feeling inclined to eat." `
`
`
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"But you can sleep when you please, monsieur?" said Morrel. `
`
`
`
"Yes." `
`
`
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"You have a recipe for it?" `
`
`
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"An infallible one." `
`
`
`
"That would be invaluable to us in Africa, who have not `
`
always any food to eat, and rarely anything to drink." `
`
`
`
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "but, unfortunately, a recipe `
`
excellent for a man like myself would be very dangerous `
`
applied to an army, which might not awake when it was `
`
needed." `
`
`
`
"May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray. `
`
`
`
"Oh, yes," returned Monte Cristo; "I make no secret of it. `
`
It is a mixture of excellent opium, which I fetched myself `
`
from Canton in order to have it pure, and the best hashish `
`
which grows in the East -- that is, between the Tigris and `
`
the Euphrates. These two ingredients are mixed in equal `
`
proportions, and formed into pills. Ten minutes after one is `
`
taken, the effect is produced. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay; I `
`
think he tasted them one day." `
`
`
`
"Yes," replied Morcerf, "he said something about it to me." `
`
`
`
"But," said Beauchamp, who, as became a journalist, was very `
`
incredulous, "you always carry this drug about you?" `
`
`
`
"Always." `
`
`
`
"Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious `
`
pills?" continued Beauchamp, hoping to take him at a `
`
disadvantage. `
`
`
`
"No, monsieur," returned the count; and he drew from his `
`
pocket a marvellous casket, formed out of a single emerald `
`
and closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passage `
`
to a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea. `
`
This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. There were four `
`
or five more in the emerald, which would contain about a `
`
dozen. The casket passed around the table, but it was more `
`
to examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills that `
`
it passed from hand to hand. "And is it your cook who `
`
prepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp. `
`
`
`
"Oh, no, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not thus `
`
betray my enjoyments to the vulgar. I am a tolerable `
`
chemist, and prepare my pills myself." `
`
`
`
"This is a magnificent emerald, and the largest I have ever `
`
seen," said Chateau-Renaud, "although my mother has some `
`
remarkable family jewels." `
`
`
`
"I had three similar ones," returned Monte Cristo. "I gave `
`
one to the Sultan, who mounted it in his sabre; another to `
`
our holy father the Pope, who had it set in his tiara, `
`
opposite to one nearly as large, though not so fine, given `
`
by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor, Pius VII. I kept `
`
the third for myself, and I had it hollowed out, which `
`
reduced its value, but rendered it more commodious for the `
`
purpose I intended." Every one looked at Monte Cristo with `
`
astonishment; he spoke with so much simplicity that it was `
`
evident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, the `
`
sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the `
`
former belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give you `
`
in exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray. `
`
`
`
"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count; `
`
"the Pope, the life of a man; so that once in my life I have `
`
been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world `
`
on the steps of a throne." `
`
`
`
"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf; `
`
"it was for him that you obtained pardon?" `
`
`
`
"Perhaps," returned the count, smiling. `
`
`
`
"My dear count, you have no idea what pleasure it gives me `
`
to hear you speak thus," said Morcerf. "I had announced you `
`
beforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the `Arabian `
`
Nights,' a wizard of the Middle Ages; but the Parisians are `
`
so subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of the `
`
imagination the most incontestable truths, when these truths `
`
do not form a part of their daily existence. For example, `
`
here is Debray who reads, and Beauchamp who prints, every `
`
day, `A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped and `
`
robbed on the Boulevard;' `four persons have been `
`
assassinated in the Rue St. Denis' or `the Faubourg St. `
`
Germain;' `ten, fifteen, or twenty thieves, have been `
`
arrested in a cafe on the Boulevard du Temple, or in the `
`
Thermes de Julien,' -- and yet these same men deny the `
`
existence of the bandits in the Maremma, the Campagna di `
`
Romana, or the Pontine Marshes. Tell them yourself that I `
`
was taken by bandits, and that without your generous `
`
intercession I should now have been sleeping in the `
`
Catacombs of St. Sebastian, instead of receiving them in my `
`
humble abode in the Rue du Helder." `
`
`
`
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "you promised me never to mention `
`
that circumstance." `
`
`
`
"It was not I who made that promise," cried Morcerf; "it `
`
must have been some one else whom you have rescued in the `
`
same manner, and whom you have forgotten. Pray speak of it, `
`
for I shall not only, I trust, relate the little I do know, `
`
but also a great deal I do not know." `
`
`
`
"It seems to me," returned the count, smiling, "that you `
`
played a sufficiently important part to know as well as `
`
myself what happened." `
`
`
`
"Well, you promise me, if I tell all I know, to relate, in `
`
your turn, all that I do not know?" `
`
`
`
"That is but fair," replied Monte Cristo. `
`
`
`
"Well," said Morcerf, "for three days I believed myself the `
`
object of the attentions of a masque, whom I took for a `
`
descendant of Tullia or Poppoea, while I was simply the `
`
object of the attentions of a contadina, and I say contadina `
`
to avoid saying peasant girl. What I know is, that, like a `
`
fool, a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now, I `
`
mistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen or `
`
sixteen, with a beardless chin and slim waist, and who, just `
`
as I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips, `
`
placed a pistol to my head, and, aided by seven or eight `
`
others, led, or rather dragged me, to the Catacombs of St. `
`
Sebastian, where I found a highly educated brigand chief `
`
perusing Caesar's `Commentaries,' and who deigned to leave `
`
off reading to inform me, that unless the next morning, `
`
before six o'clock, four thousand piastres were paid into `
`
his account at his banker's, at a quarter past six I should `
`
have ceased to exist. The letter is still to be seen, for it `
`
is in Franz d'Epinay's possession, signed by me, and with a `
`
postscript of M. Luigi Vampa. This is all I know, but I know `
`
not, count, how you contrived to inspire so much respect in `
`
the bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respect `
`
for anything. I assure you, Franz and I were lost in `
`
admiration." `
`
`
`
"Nothing more simple," returned the count. "I had known the `
`
famous Vampa for more than ten years. When he was quite a `
`
child, and only a shepherd, I gave him a few gold pieces for `
`
showing me my way, and he, in order to repay me, gave me a `
`
poniard, the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand, `
`
and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. In `
`
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