Page:The Count of Monte-Cristo (1887 Volume 2).djvu/257

 

HEN Albert found himself alone with Monte-Cristo, "M. le Comte," said he, "allow me to commence my ciceroneship by showing you a specimen of a bachelor's apartment. You, who are accustomed to the palaces of Italy, can amuse yourself by calculating in how many square feet a young man who is not the worst lodged in Paris can live. As we pass from one room to another, I will open the windows to let you breathe."

Monte-Cristo had already seen the breakfast-room and the salon on the ground floor. Albert led him first to his atelier, which was, as we have said, his favorite apartment. Monte-Cristo was a worthy appreciator of all that Albert had collected here—old cabinets, Japan porcelain, Oriental stuffs, Venice glass, arms from all parts of the world—everything was familiar to him; and, at the first glance, he recognized their date, their country, and their origin.

Morcerf had expected he should be the guide; on the contrary, it was he who, under the count's guidance, followed a course of archeology, mineralogy, and natural history.

They descended to the first floor; Albert led his guest into the salon. The salon was filled with the works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupré, with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and marvelous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their long white bournous, their shining belts, their damasked arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth whilst their riders contended fiercely with their maces; aquarelles of Boulanger, illustrating Notre Dame de Paris with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet; there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of Salvator Rosa, but more poetic;