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CHAPTER LXX

THE BALL

IT was in the warmest days of July, when, in due course of time, the Saturday arrived upon which the ball of M. de Morcerf was to take place. It was ten o'clock at night; the large trees in the garden of the count's hotel stood out clear against the azure heaven, studded with golden stars, where the last mists of a storm, which had threatened all day, yet glided.

From the apartments on the ground floor might be heard the sound of music, with the whirl of the waltz and galop, while brilliant streams of light shone through the openings of the Venetian blinds. At this moment the garden was occupied by about ten servants, who had just received orders from their mistress to prepare the supper, the fineness of the weather continuing to increase. Until now, it had been undecided whether the supper should take place in the dining-room, or under a long tent erected on the lawn; but the beautiful blue sky, covered with stars, had determined the case in favor of the lawn and the tent.

The gardens were illuminated with colored lanterns, according to the Italian custom, and, as usual in those countries where the luxury of the table, the rarest of all luxuries, is well understood, the supper-table was loaded with wax-lights and flowers.

At the time the Countess de Morcerf returned to the rooms, after giving her orders, many guests were arriving, more attracted by the charming hospitality of the countess than by the distinguished position of the count; for, owing to the good taste of Mercédès, one was sure of finding some arrangements at her fête worthy of relating, or even copying in case of need.

Madame Danglars, in whom the events we have related had caused deep anxiety, had hesitated in going to Madame de Morcerf's, when, during the morning, her carriage happened to cross that of Villefort.

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