Monte-Cristos Daughter | Page 3

if he expected to be severely reprimanded for being the bearer of
such an indignity. The Count, however, merely smiled. Curiosity rather
than anger predominated in him. He turned the letter over and read,
scrawled in pencil in a woman's hand, the following brief and
enigmatical but insulting communication:
"Any Frenchman save the ignominious M. Dantès, the so-called Count
of Monte-Cristo, would be welcome to Mlle. d' Armilly. That person
she does not wish to see and will not."
The Count was perplexed and also amused. The fervor of the prima
donna made him smile. He certainly did not know her, certainly had
never seen her. Why then was she so bitter against him? He could make
nothing out of it. Was it possible her name was really as familiar to him
as it had seemed? The irate artiste had surely heard of the Count of
Monte-Cristo and, therefore, could not be mistaken in regard to his
identity, but in what way could he have injured her or incurred her
anger? The more he thought of the matter the more perplexed he grew.
As he was debating within himself what action he ought to take, there
was a knock at the door and a domestic entered, handing him a card
upon which was inscribed: "Captain Joliette."
"Ha!" cried Monte-Cristo, "he comes in time. He will aid me in solving
this mystery."
He motioned Ali from the study, and directed the valet who had
brought the card to show the visitor up at once. In another instant
Captain Joliette entered the room. The Count sprang forward to greet
him.
"Welcome, Captain," said he. "I have not seen you since our stirring
adventures in Algeria.[4] I hope you are well and happy. By the way,
what are you doing, in Rome? I was not aware you were here."
"I am here simply by chance," answered the young soldier, with a blush
that belied his words. "I was in Italy on a little pleasure trip and
naturally drifted to the Eternal City. I learned only this morning that
you were installed at the Palazzo Costi and instantly hastened to pay

my respects."
When their cordial greetings were over and they were seated side by
side upon a commodious sofa luxuriously upholstered in crimson silk,
the Count said, abruptly:
"Captain, did you ever hear of a French opera singer named Louise d'
Armilly?"
Again the young man colored deeply, a circumstance that did not
escape the close observation of his companion, who instantly divined
that the famous prima donna counted for more in the reasons that had
brought the Captain to Rome than that gallant warrior was willing to
admit.
"Yes," stammered Joliette, "I have heard of her, and report says she is a
remarkably charming lady as well as a great artiste."
"Your tone is enthusiastic, my dear Captain," returned Monte-Cristo,
smiling pleasantly. "Perhaps you are acquainted with Mlle. d' Armilly."
"Well, to confess, Count," said Joliette, with a laugh, "I am acquainted
with her, and, curiously enough, part of my mission here to-day was to
ask you to occupy a box at the performance of 'Lucrezia Borgia' this
evening. Will you accept?"
"With genuine delight," was Monte-Cristo's ready answer. "I desire to
see this mysterious prima donna for more than one reason. In the first
place, her name is dimly familiar to me, though I cannot remember
where I ever heard it, and, in the second place, she flatly refused a visit
from me no later than this morning."
Joliette looked greatly surprised.
"Refused a visit from you, Count! I would not believe it did I not hear it
from your own lips. Mlle. d' Armilly must be mad! She surely cannot
know what an honor it is to receive a visit from the Count of
Monte-Cristo!"

The Count smiled in his peculiar way, and handed the Captain Mlle. d'
Armilly's singular reply to his note. The young man glanced at it in
amazement, reading it again and again; finally he stammered out:
"It is her handwriting, but what can she mean?"
"That is exactly what I would like to know, and I see by your manner
and words that you are powerless to enlighten me. Still, you can tell me
who this Mlle. d' Armilly is, and that will in all probability furnish me
with the key to her rather shabby treatment of me."
"My dear Count, I am acquainted with the young lady, it is true, but,
like yourself, I am in total ignorance so far as her history is concerned.
She is French, that is evident, and she has gone so far as to admit to me
that Louise d' Armilly is only her professional name, but what her real
name is she has more than once positively refused to disclose