Chapter 101: The Carnival Masquerade: II
Albert was right. The mysterious woman apparently decided not to pursue the flirtation further. Although the young men made several more circuits, they didn’t see the carriage again, it had turned down a side street.
They returned to the palace, but both the Count and the woman in blue had disappeared. The two windows draped with yellow fabric were still occupied by the Count’s other guests.
At that moment, the same bell that had announced the carnival’s beginning now signaled its end for the day. The procession broke up, and within seconds all the carriages had vanished. Franz and Albert found themselves on a different street. Without a word, their driver took them down various roads, past plazas and palaces, until they stopped at their hotel entrance.
Their host, Signor Pastrini, came to greet them. Franz quickly asked about the Count and expressed regret that they hadn’t returned in time to see him. But Pastrini reassured him that the Count had ordered a second carriage for himself, which had picked him up at four o’clock.
The Count had also left them the key to his private theater box. Franz asked Albert about his plans, but Albert had important projects to execute before going to the theater. Instead of answering, he asked if Signor Pastrini could find them a tailor.
"A tailor?" the host asked. "What for?"
"To make us two peasant costumes by tomorrow," Albert explained.
The host shook his head. "Make two costumes between now and tomorrow? With all respect, that’s an impossible request! For the next week, you won’t find a single tailor who’ll even sew six buttons on a vest, even if you paid them a fortune for each button."
"So I have to give up the idea?"
"No, we have ready-made costumes. Leave everything to me. Tomorrow morning when you wake up, you’ll find a collection of costumes that will satisfy you."
"My dear Albert," Franz said, "let’s trust our host. He’s already proven very resourceful. Let’s have a quiet dinner and then go see a show."
"Agreed," Albert said. "But remember, Signor Pastrini, both my friend and I consider it extremely important to have the costumes we requested by tomorrow."
The host assured them again that they could rely on him. Franz and Albert went upstairs to their rooms and changed out of their costumes. Albert carefully preserved the bunch of violets, it would be his good luck charm for tomorrow.
The two friends sat down to dinner, though they couldn’t help noticing the stark difference between the Count’s table and Signor Pastrini’s. Franz had to admit, despite his growing unease about the Count, that Pastrini’s hospitality couldn’t compare.
During dessert, a servant asked what time they wanted the carriage. Albert and Franz exchanged glances, worried about taking advantage of the Count’s generosity.
The servant understood their hesitation. "His Excellency the Count gave explicit orders that the carriage should remain at your disposal all day. You can use it without any concern about imposing on him."
They decided to accept the Count’s courtesy and ordered the horses prepared while they changed into evening wear, replacing the costumes that had been somewhat damaged during their battles.
They went to the theater and settled into the Count’s box. During the first act, a noblewoman named Countess G, entered. Her first glance went to the box where she’d seen the Count the previous evening. She seemed surprised to find Franz and Albert there instead. Her opera glasses focused so intently on them that Franz felt it would be rude not to satisfy her curiosity. Taking advantage of the Italian theater custom of using boxes for socializing, the two friends went to pay their respects.
As soon as they entered, she motioned for Franz to take the seat of honor. Albert sat behind him.
"Well," she said, barely giving Franz time to sit, "it seems you have nothing better to do than befriend this mysterious stranger, and now you’re the best of friends."
"We’re not quite that close, dear Countess," Franz replied, "but I can’t deny we’ve imposed on his generosity all day."
"All day?"
"Yes. We had breakfast with him this morning, rode in his carriage throughout the day, and now we’ve taken over his theater box."
"So you know him then?"
"Yes and no."
"What do you mean?"
"It’s a long story."
"Tell me everything."
"It would frighten you."
"All the more reason to tell me!"
"At least wait until the story has an ending."
"Fine, I prefer complete stories anyway. But tell me how you met him. Did someone introduce you?"
"No, he introduced himself to us."
"When?"
"Last night, after we left you."
"How did that happen?"
"Through our hotel landlord, nothing romantic about it."
"So he’s staying at the same hotel as you?"
"Not only the same hotel but the same floor."
"What’s his name? You must know that at least."
"The Count of Monte Cristo."
"That’s not a family name, surely?"
"No, it’s the name of an island he purchased."
"And he’s actually a count?"
"A nobleman from Tuscany, apparently."
The Countess, herself from old aristocratic blood, accepted this with slight reluctance. "Well, what kind of man is he?"
"Ask Albert."
"You hear that, Monsieur Albert? I’m asking you," the Countess said.
Albert smiled. "We’d be very difficult to please if we didn’t find him delightful. A friend of ten years couldn’t have done more for us, or with more perfect courtesy."
The Countess smiled knowingly. "I see my mysterious vampire is just some millionaire pretending to be dramatic to avoid being confused with other wealthy men. And did you see her?"
"Her?"
"The beautiful woman from yesterday."
"No. We heard music, I think, but she remained completely hidden."
Albert interrupted. "When you say hidden, that’s just to maintain the mystery. Who else would that woman in blue be at the window with white curtains?"
"Which window with white hangings?" the Countess asked.
"At the palace."
"The Count had three windows at that palace?"
"Yes. Did you pass through the main boulevard?"
"Yes."
"Did you notice two windows with yellow drapes and one with white drapes marked with a red cross? Those were the Count’s windows."
"He must be incredibly wealthy. Do you know what those three windows cost?"
"Two or three hundred coins?"
"Try two or three thousand."
"Wow."
"Does his island produce such income?"
"It doesn’t earn him anything."
"Then why did he buy it?"
"On a whim."
"So he’s eccentric?"
"Actually," Albert observed, "he struck me as quite unusual. If he lived here and frequented theaters, I’d say he was completely mad. This morning he made several dramatic exits worthy of a theatrical performance."
At that moment another visitor entered, and following custom, Franz gave up his seat. This also had the effect of changing the conversation. An hour later, the two friends returned to their hotel.
Signor Pastrini had already begun preparing their disguises for tomorrow and assured them they’d be completely satisfied. The next morning at nine o’clock, he entered Franz’s room followed by a tailor carrying eight or ten peasant costumes. They selected two identical outfits and asked the tailor to sew about twenty yards of ribbon onto each hat and obtain two long silk sashes of different colors, the kind worn by common people on festival days.
Albert was eager to see how he looked in his new outfit: a jacket and pants of blue velvet, silk stockings, shoes with buckles, and a silk vest. The picturesque attire suited him wonderfully. When he wrapped the sash around his waist and positioned his hat at a rakish angle, letting ribbons cascade down his shoulder, Franz had to admit that clothing has much to do with how attractive we find certain cultures.