"How dare you," she cried, her eyes flashing and her voice tremulous with anger, "come here, to me, after what has occurred to-night!"

"I was not aware, Louise," answered he, apologetically, "that you had such a terrible aversion to the Count of Monte-Cristo."

"The Count of Monte-Cristo!" exclaimed the director. "Was he in the house this evening? What an honor!"

The irate prima donna flashed upon him a terrible glance.

"If you consider it an honor to have that monster in your theatre," she fairly hissed, "I will sing for you no more!"

The humiliated director walked away without making a reply. He deemed it the part of wisdom not to embroil himself with an eminent artiste who was capable of bringing him in so much money, and who also was capable, he thought, of breaking her engagement if she saw fit to do so. He, therefore, left the dressing-room. The others, seeing that Mlle. d'

Armilly was evidently about to have a hot dispute with her admirer and that she was sufficiently restored to need no further care, also quitted the apartment.

When they were alone, the prima donna turned fiercely upon the Captain, exclaiming:

"And you profess to love me, too! Was it love that induced you to bring my worst enemy here to-night? It was hatred rather! Captain Joliette, you hate me!"

"You know I do not, Louise," said the young soldier, warmly. "You know I love you to desperation!"

"Why then was the so-called Count of Monte-Cristo in your box?"

"I was not aware that you knew him; indeed, I felt convinced that he was a total stranger to you, and his conduct to-night tended to confirm that conviction. He looked at you without the slightest sign of recognition; and so far from being your enemy is he that he gave you louder and more enthusiastic applause than any other man in the entire theatre."

"It is his art, Captain Joliette! I tell you that man is as cunning as a serpent and as remorseless as a tiger. Only this morning he sought to gain access to me, with what iniquitous motive I know not; but I returned his letter, with an answer that must have galled his pride to the quick!"

"I saw that answer," said the Captain. "Monte-Cristo showed it to me himself at his residence, the Palazzo Costi."

"What!" cried Mlle. d' Armilly, with augmented anger. "You saw it, read my very words, and yet brought him to your box?"

"Listen, Louise, and be reasonable. He told me that your name seemed familiar to him and yet he could not recall where or under what circ.u.mstances he had heard it. He was astonished at the tone of your reply to his formal and, I must say, very civil note. I was sure there must be some mistake on your part, that you had confounded him with some other person. I had gone to the Palazzo Costi expressly to invite him to hear you sing, to have such a great man present and a.s.sist at your triumph! I felt proud of you, Louise, proud of you as an artiste and as a woman, and I wanted my friend of friends to share my exalted appreciation of you. Such were the reasons that induced me to bring him to my box to-night, and, surely, if I committed an error, I deserve pardon for my motives!"

"I will never pardon you, be your motives what they may!" cried Mlle. d'

Armilly, vindictively. "His presence ruined the performance and disgraced me, me, Louise d' Armilly, in the eyes of all Rome!"

The Captain stood speechless, appalled by her fury. White with rage, her eyes flashing and her bosom heaving, she looked like some beautiful demon.

"I would have triumphed as usual had he not been here," she continued, furiously and bitterly, "and to-morrow the Eternal City would have been at my feet, I would have been an acknowledged queen, nay, even greater than any sovereign alive, but now I have failed and am nothing! Captain Joliette, for all this you are to blame, and yet you think you deserve pardon for your motives! Why, man, you are worse than an idiot! No, I will never pardon you, never!"

She strode about the dressing-room as she spoke, her small, white hands working as if ready to tear the young soldier to pieces. Joliette watched her for an instant and then said:

"You are a singular creature, Louise, a problem that I must admit I cannot solve. What is the Count of Monte-Cristo to you that you swoon at the mere sight of him? You certainly could not have been in any way a.s.sociated with his past life, have suffered from the signal vengeance he took upon his enemies years ago!"

Mlle. d' Armilly paused suddenly in her excited walk, and, seizing the Captain by the arm with so strong a clutch that a thrill of pain shot through him, cried, menacingly:

"If you dare to mention Monte-Cristo's fiendish vengeance to me again, I will banish you forever from my presence!"

At that moment one of the officials of the theatre appeared at the dressing-room door.

"A note for mademoiselle," said he, bowing profoundly.

The prima donna took the missive from the man and glanced at the address upon the envelope. As she did so, she knitted her brows and cried out:

"His handwriting! Another insult! I will not read it!"

The official withdrew in confusion.

"Whose handwriting?" asked Joliette, his curiosity and jealousy simultaneously excited. Mlle. d' Armilly had frequently referred to her numerous admirers and the letters she received from them, and the Captain naturally jumped to the conclusion that this note had been sent by some ardent Roman suitor. He considered the artiste's exclamation and a.s.sumption of displeasure as mere artful tricks designed to deceive him.

"Whose handwriting?" repeated Mlle. d' Armilly; scornfully. "Must I explain everything to you?"

The young man had borne all his companion in her anger had heaped upon him with comparative equanimity, but he could not bear the idea of a rival, the very thought was torture.

"Louise," he pleaded, "let me see that letter, let me read it."

"What! Must you needs examine my private correspondence! Captain Joliette, you are going too far! You have done enough to-night, without adding insult to injury!"

"I did not seek to injure you, Louise, G.o.d knows! Neither do I wish to insult you; but that letter I must and will read!"

"You talk as if I were already your wife and slave. Adopt another and less authoritative tone, monsieur. Captain Joliette, you are not yet my husband!"

"Would that I were and were sure of your love, Louise! The continual uncertainty in which you keep me is insupportable! You refuse to let me read that letter?"

The young man, in his turn, began to pace the dressing-room excitedly, his jealous suspicions growing stronger and stronger.

Mlle. d' Armilly gazed at him triumphantly. She was proud of the vast influence she exercised over this brave and manly warrior. He would stand unmoved before the cannon's mouth, but she could make him quail and tremble!

"You refuse to let me read that letter?" he repeated.

"What if I do not refuse?" said she, in a softer tone.

"You will make me a very happy man!"

"Then read it, for I will not! Thus I show my contempt for its miserable and cowardly author!"

She crumpled the note in her hand and cast it on the floor. Then she placed her foot upon it.

Joliette stooped and took it from beneath her boot. He straightened out the envelope, opened it, removed the missive and read as follows:

"The Count of Monte-Cristo presents his respects to Mlle. d' Armilly, and begs leave to express his deep regret that his presence in Captain Joliette's box was the cause of such a grave catastrophe. He is utterly at a loss to realize why Mlle. d' Armilly should entertain so profound an aversion for him, and why the sight of him should so seriously affect her. If Mlle. d' Armilly would condescend to explain, he would regard it as a special favor. He trusts that Captain Joliette will in nowise be blamed for what has occurred, as that gentleman, when he invited the Count to share his box, was as thoroughly convinced as the Count himself that Mlle. d' Armilly did not know and would not recognize him."

As Joliette read the last lines that so completely cleared him, he could not suppress an exclamation of joy.

"Louise," he cried, "the Count of Monte-Cristo has written to exculpate me!"

"Indeed!" replied the prima donna, contemptuously.

"Yes; he also apologizes to you and asks you to explain why the sight of him so seriously affects you."

"He asks an explanation, does he?" cried Mlle. d' Armilly, her anger resuming sway. "He shall never have one!"