"It is probable," stammered out Villefort; "but believe me, I have nothing to do with this corruption. This house is part of the marriage portion of Valentine, and M. de Saint-Meran wished to sell it; for, if it had remained another year or two uninhabited, it would have fallen to ruin."
It was Morrel's turn to become pale.
"There was, above all, one room," continued Monte-Cristo, "very plain in appearance, hung with red damask, which, I know not why, appeared to me quite dramatic."
"Why so?" said Debray; "why dramatic?"
"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte-Cristo. "Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness? why, we cannot tell It is a chain of recollections an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place. And there is something in this room which reminds me forcibly of the chamber of the Marchioness de Ganges or Desdemona. Stay, since we have finished dinner, I will show it to you, and then we will take coffee in the garden. After dinner, the play."
Monte-Cristo looked inquiringly at his guests. Madame de Villefort rose, Monte-Cristo did the same, and the rest followed their example. Villefort and Madame Danglars remained for a moment, as if rooted to their seats; they interrogated each other with cold, glazed eyes.
"Did you hear?" said Madame Danglars.
"We must go," replied Villefort, offering his arm.
Every one else was already scattered in different parts of the house, urged by curiosity; for they thought the visit would not be limited to the one room, and that, at the same time, they would obtain a view of the rest of the building, of which Monte-Cristo had created a palace. Each one went out by the open doors. Monte-Cristo waited for the two who remained; then, when they had passed, he closed the march with a smile, which, if they could have understood it, would have alarmed them much more than a visit to the room they were about to enter. They therefore began by walking through the apartments, many of which were fitted up in the Eastern style, with cushions and divans instead of beds, and pipes instead of furniture. The drawing-rooms were decorated with the rarest pictures by the. old masters; the boudoirs hung with draperies from China, of fanciful colors, fantastic design, and wonderful texture. At length they arrived at the famous room. There was nothing particular about it, excepting that, although daylight had disappeared, it was not lighted, and everything in it remained antique, while the rest of the rooms had been re-decorated. These two causes were enough to give it a gloomy tinge.
