The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume II

by Jules Lermina

  CHAPTER XXXII

  OLD ACQUAINTANCES

  Jane Zild lived in a modest room in a small house on the Champs-Elysees.

  The interior was furnished in the ordinary style of a private house. Inthe basement was the reception-room, the sitting-room and dining-room.The owner of the house was Madame Vollard, the widow of an officer. Oneof her principles was, that it was better to have her rooms empty thanto let them out to people whose reputation was not of the best.

  She did not care much either for artists or actresses, but made someexceptions, and when Melosan, Jane Zild's secretary, offered her aconsiderable sum for a room on the first floor, she immediatelyaccepted.

  The bells of Notre-Dame struck one o'clock, when a carriage, whichcontained Jane and her companion, stopped in front of Madame Vollard'shouse.

  In spite of the late hour, the landlady hurried to the street door togreet the young girl. When she saw the latter's disordered toilet, sheuttered a cry of horror. Jane had thrown off the cloak, and the burneddress with the withered and crushed roses could be seen.

  "What is the matter, my dear?" asked the worthy lady.

  "Oh, nothing," replied Jane; "I am only tired."

  "Then you tell me, at least, what has occurred," said Madame Vollard,turning to Melosan.

  "Later on, later on. The young lady is excited and needs rest."

  "Oh, I will give her some drops," said the good-hearted lady, "I--"

  "Good-night, Madame Vollard," said the secretary, and taking a lightfrom the lady's hands, he hurried up the stairs with Jane.

  The young girl sank back in a chair exhausted. Melosan, a man aboutsixty years of age, with white hair and sunburned face, stood withfolded hands before his mistress, and his dark eyes looked anxiously atJane's pale face.

  "You are suffering?" he said, after a pause.

  Jane shuddered. "Ah, no," she said, "I am feeling perfectly well."

  "But the fright?"

  "Oh, that is nothing," replied Jane, sorrowfully; and, rising up wildly,she passionately added: "Why am I forced to enter a world which is notmy own, and never can be! And it shall not be either," she sobbinglyconcluded, "never--never!"

  Melosan held down his head.

  "A queen would have been proud at the reception you had to-night."

  "Why do you tell me this?" she exclaimed. "A queen? I? Oh, what bittermockery!"

  "But your eminent talent--your voice?"

  "Would to God I had none! I--but go now, I want to be alone."

  The man sorrowfully approached the door; on the threshold he paused andimploringly murmured:

  "Pardon me, Jane, I did not wish to hurt you."

  "I know it. I am sometimes hard and cruel, but my unhappy situation isthe cause of it. Why did not the wretched fire consume me? Then allgrief would have been at an end. O my God! my God!"

  She sobbed as if her heart would break, and Melosan wrung his hands indespair.

  "Jane, tell me what has happened," he said, in despair. "I have neverseen you this way before. Has any one insulted you?"

  "No one," said Jane, softly, "no one."

  "Your fate is dreary and burdensome, but you are young and strong. Youhave life before you, and in time you'll forget the past and be happy."

  Melosan's words caused the young girl to dry her tears.

  "You are right," she said, half ashamed, "I was foolish and ungrateful.I will forget the past. Forgive me--grief overwhelmed me."

  "You are an angel," cried Melosan, enthusiastically; "but now you mustreally go to bed. Good-night, Jane."

  "Good-night," said the young girl, cordially, and then the door closedbehind Melosan.

  As the secretary was about to go to his room, Madame Vollard interceptedhim on the stairs.

  "Well, how goes it?" she asked; "has the poor child recovered?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  "What occurred?"

  "She was almost burned to death; her dress had already caught fire."

  "What a lucky accident--"

  "Lucky accident?" repeated Melosan, not understanding.

  "I do not mean the fire, but the fact that I just possess a walkingsuit, such as Mademoiselle Zild needs, and which I can let her have at avery moderate price. A silk dress with pomegranate leaves--"

  "To-morrow, Madame Vollard, to-morrow," Melosan interrupted her. "Ireally feel fatigued, and should like to go to my room."

  "You are right. I ought to have known it."

  She disappeared, and Melosan walked up the stairs. On entering his roomhe locked the door, threw himself into a chair, and burying his face inhis hands he sobbed bitterly.

  "What is going to happen now," he muttered to himself; "my money isnearly all gone, and--"

  Hastily springing up, he opened the bureau and took a torn portfolio outof it. Opening it, he sorrowfully counted its contents and shook hisgray head.

  "It is useless," he muttered in a hollow voice, "the day after to-morrowthe rent is due, and what then remains to us is not worth speakingabout. If I only could begin something, but everywhere my horrible paststares me in the face. I dare not go out in the broad daylight. I myselfwould be satisfied with dry bread, but Jane, the poor, poor thing! Withher talent she could have had a brilliant life, and reign everywherelike a queen if it were not for the terrible past. Like a spectre, itstands in our path, and while she is innocent, the curse of being thecause of both our wretchedness strikes me. I--"

  A slight noise caused Melosan to pause and listen. For a while all wassilent, and then the noise recommenced. He hurried to the door, butcould not see any one, and returning to the room he shook his head andresumed his seat.

  "I must have been deceived," he murmured uneasily, "and yet I thought--"

  The knock was repeated, and this time so loudly that Melosan discoveredfrom whence it came. Hastily going to the attic window he threw thecurtain aside and peered out. A dark shadow moved here and there on theroof, and Melosan reached for his pistol.

  "Who's there?" he cried.

  "Some one who desires to speak to you," came back in firm tones.

  "To me? At this hour?" asked the secretary in a daze.

  "Yes, to you--open quickly or I shall burst in the window."

  Melosan saw that it could not be a thief, and so he hesitatingly shovedback the bolt.

  A powerful hand raised the window from the outside, and Melosan raisedhis weapon threateningly; but at this moment the light from the roomfell full on the man's face, and the secretary let the pistol fall, andcried in a faint, trembling voice:

  "You! You! O God! how did you get here?"

  "Ha! ha! ha! Don't you see I came from the roof?" cried the man,mockingly.

  "But you shall not come in," cried Melosan, angrily, as he cocked hispistol. "Get out of here, or I shall blow your brains out."

  "You won't do any such thing," said the other, coolly. "Do you thinkbecause you are posing as an honest man that other people will imagineyou are one? Ha! is the situation clear to you? A good memory is a goodthing to have, and if one does not like to hear names it is better toacquiesce. Well, what do you say? Shall we talk over matters peacefully,or do you persist in firing off your pistol and attracting the attentionof the police?"

  A shudder ran through Melosan, and he looked at the floor in despair.

  "Can I offer you a cigar?" continued the man. "No? Then permit me tolight my own;" and turning himself in his chair, and recliningcomfortably against the back of the fauteuil, the speaker lighted acigar, and with the utmost calm of mind puffed blue clouds of smoke inthe air.

  Melosan was evidently struggling with himself. At last he had made uphis mind, and, angrily approaching the other, said:

  "Listen to me. The sooner we get rid of each other the better it will befor both of us. Why did you hunt me up? You ought to have known long agothat I did not wish to have anything to do with you. You go your way andI will go mine; let neither of us bother the other, and as I am calledMelosan, I shall forget that you ever bore any
other name than Fagiano."

  "You have become proud!" exclaimed the man who called himself Fagiano,laughing mockingly; "upon my word, Anselmo, if I did not know that youwere a former galley-slave, I would think you were a prince!"

  "And I would hold you now and always for the incarnation of everythingthat is bad," replied Anselmo (for it was he). "You ought to be calledLucifer instead of Benedetto!"