re 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 Marquise 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
questioned each other with vague and stupid glances. "Did you hear?"
said Madame Danglars.

* Elisabeth de Rossan, Marquise de Ganges, was one of the
famous women of the court of Louis XIV. where she was known
as "La Belle Provencale." She was the widow of the Marquise
de Castellane when she married de Ganges, and having the
misfortune to excite the enmity of her new brothers-in-law,
was forced by them to take poison; and they finished her off
with pistol and dagger.--Ed.

"We must go," replied Villefort, offering his arm. The others, attracted
by curiosity, were already scattered in different parts of the house;
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 brought up the rear, and on his face was 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 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 was old-fashioned, while the rest of the
rooms had been redecorated. These two