Quite a long time had elapsed since the sudden departure of the Viscount Massetti from Paris, but Zuleika was still in complete ignorance as to his whereabouts and actions. He was in Rome, of that she had not the slightest doubt. She was equally convinced that his errand there was to establish his innocence of the terrible crime imputed to him by Luigi Vampa, to obtain proofs that would clear him in the eves of her father and herself, if not of all the world. Why, therefore, did he not write, why did he not give her some sign that she would understand? His silence discouraged the young girl, filled her with uneasiness. It seemed to indicate that he had not succeeded, had not been able to wipe the stain from his record. If so she would never see him again, for Giovanni was too proud to reappear in her presence with a dishonored name, a sullied reputation. This thought was torture, and Monte-Cristo's daughter felt that should her lover desert her she could not live.

As the days rolled by without a word of intelligence from the Viscount, Zuleika's fears assumed greater consistency and weight. She grew sad, inexpressibly sad; her look lost its brightness, her voice its cheery tone and her step its elasticity. The bloom faded from her youthful cheeks, giving place to an ashen pallor. She was no longer interested in her accustomed occupations and amusements, and would sit for hours together with her hands crossed in her lap, dominated by sorrowful and dismal forebodings.

Mercédès noticed her condition, and, ascribing it to its proper cause, strove in a motherly way to rouse and console her, but without effect. She spoke to the Count about it, begging him to use his influence to cheer his child, but Monte-Cristo only shook his head, saying that they must trust to the soothing power of time which could not fail ultimately to do its work. Espérance pitied his sister sincerely, but refrained from interfering, well knowing that nothing he could say would be productive of good. Albert de Morcerf, his wife and Mlle. d' Armilly, who had learned of Zuleika's love affair and the dark shadow that had fallen upon it, felt a delicacy about alluding to the matter and, therefore, held aloof; besides, they were too much depressed by the circumstances under which Danglars had reappeared to be able to exert a cheering influence.

When Mercédès returned from Marseilles she was accompanied by Maximilian and Valentine Morrel, who immediately went to the mansion on the Rue du Helder and paid their respects to the Count of Monte-Cristo, their benefactor. It was their intention to make only a brief call, taking up their residence during their sojourn in Paris at that famous stopping-place for strangers, the Grand Hôtel du Louvre on the Rue de Rivoli adjoining the Palais Royal, but Monte-Cristo would not hear of such a thing, insisting that the young soldier and his wife should be his guests and partake of his hospitality. They were not reluctant to consent to this agreeable arrangement, as it would enable them to enjoy uninterruptedly the society of their dearest friends.




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