causes were enough to give it
a gloomy aspect. "Oh." cried Madame de Villefort, "it is really
frightful." Madame Danglars tried to utter a few words, but was not
heard. Many observations were made, the import of which was a unanimous
opinion that there was something sinister about the room. "Is it not
so?" asked Monte Cristo. "Look at that large clumsy bed, hung with such
gloomy, blood-colored drapery! And those two crayon portraits, that have
faded from the dampness; do they not seem to say, with their pale
lips and staring eyes, 'We have seen'?" Villefort became livid; Madame
Danglars fell into a long seat placed near the chimney. "Oh," said
Madame de Villefort, smiling, "are you courageous enough to sit down
upon the very seat perhaps upon which the crime was committed?" Madame
Danglars rose suddenly.

"And then," said Monte Cristo, "this is not all."

"What is there more?" said Debray, who had not failed to notice the
agitation of Madame Danglars.

"Ah, what else is there?" said Danglars; "for, at present, I cannot
say that I have seen anything extraordinary. What do you say, M.
Cavalcanti?"

"Ah," said he, "we have at Pisa, Ugolino's tower; at Ferrara, Tasso's
prison; at Rimini, the room of Francesca and Paolo."

"Yes, but you have not this little staircase," said Monte Cristo,
opening a door concealed by the drapery. "Look at it, and tell me what
you think of it."

"What a wicked-looking, crooked staircase," said Chateau-Renaud with a
smile.

"I do not know whether the wine of Chios produces melancholy, but
certainly everything appears to me black in this house," said Debray.

Ever since Valentine's dowry had been mentioned, Morrel had been silent
and sad. "Can you imagine," said Monte Cristo, "some Othello or Abbe de
Ganges, one stormy, dark night, descending these stairs step by step,
carrying a load, which he wishes to hide from the sight of man, if not
from God?" Madame Danglars half fainted on the arm of Villefort, who was
obliged to support himself against the wall. "Ah, madame," cried Debray,
"what is the matter with you? how pale you look!"

"It is very evident what is the matter with her," said Madame de
Villefort; "M. de Monte Cristo is relating horrible stories to us,
doubtless intending to frighten us to death."

"Yes," said Villefort, "really, count, you frighten the ladies."

"What is the matter?" asked Debray, in a whisper, of Madame Danglars.

"Nothing," she replied with a violent e