eady to pay the official visits, which are
absolutely indispensable?"

"Yes," replied Eugenie.

"And to sign the contract in three days?"

"Yes."

"Then, in my turn, I also say, very well!" Danglars pressed his
daughter's hand in his. But, extraordinary to relate, the father did not
say, "Thank you, my child," nor did the daughter smile at her father.
"Is the conference ended?" asked Eugenie, rising. Danglars motioned that
he had nothing more to say. Five minutes afterwards the piano resounded
to the touch of Mademoiselle d'Armilly's fingers, and Mademoiselle
Danglars was singing Brabantio's malediction on Desdemona. At the end of
the piece Etienne entered, and announced to Eugenie that the horses were
in the carriage, and that the baroness was waiting for her to pay her
visits. We have seen them at Villefort's; they proceeded then on their
course.

Chapter 96. The Contract.

Three days after the scene we have just described, namely towards five
o'clock in the afternoon of the day fixed for the signature of
the contract between Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars and Andrea
Cavalcanti,--whom the banker persisted in calling prince,--a fresh
breeze was stirring the leaves in the little garden in front of the
Count of Monte Cristo's house, and the count was preparing to go out.
While his horses were impatiently pawing the ground,--held in by the
coachman, who had been seated a quarter of an hour on his box,--the
elegant phaeton with which we are familiar rapidly turned the angle of
the entrance-gate, and cast out on the doorsteps M. Andrea Cavalcanti,
as decked up and gay as if he were going to marry a princess. He
inquired after the count with his usual familiarity, and ascending
lightly to the second story met him at the top of the stairs. The count
stopped on seeing the young man. As for Andrea, he was launched, and
when he was once launched nothing stopped him. "Ah, good morning,
my dear count," said he. "Ah, M. Andrea," said the latter, with his
half-jesting tone; "how do you do."

"Charmingly, as you see. I am come to talk to you about a thousand
things; but, first tell me, were you going out or just returned?"

"I was going out, sir."

"Then, in order not to hinder you, I will get up with you if you please
in your carriage, and Tom shall follow with my phaeton in tow."

"No," said the count, with an imperceptible smile of contempt, for
he had no wish to be seen in the young man's society,--"no; I prefer