Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41
The Presentation.

When Albert found himself alone with Monte Cristo, "My dear
count," said he, "allow me to commence my services as
cicerone by showing you a specimen of a bachelor's
apartment. You, who are accustomed to the palaces of Italy,
can amuse yourself by calculating in how many square feet a
young man who is not the worst lodged in Paris can live. As
we pass from one room to another, I will open the windows to
let you breathe." Monte Cristo had already seen the
breakfast-room and the salon on the ground-floor. Albert led
him first to his atelier, which was, as we have said, his
favorite apartment. Monte Cristo quickly appreciated all
that Albert had collected here -- old cabinets, Japanese
porcelain, Oriental stuffs, Venetian glass, arms from all
parts of the world -- everything was familiar to him; and at
the first glance he recognized their date, their country,
and their origin. Morcerf had expected he should be the
guide; on the contrary, it was he who, under the count's
guidance, followed a course of archaeology, mineralogy, and
natural history. They descended to the first floor; Albert
led his guest into the salon. The salon was filled with the
works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupre,
with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and
marvellous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their
long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked
arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth
while their riders contended fiercely with their maces;
aquarelles of Boulanger, representing Notre Dame de Paris
with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet;
there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more
beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the
sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of
Salvator Rosa, but more poetic; pastels by Giraud and
Muller, representing children like angels and women with the
features of a virgin; sketches torn from the album of
Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few
seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a
mosque -- in a word, all that modern art can give in
exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with
ages long since past.

Albert expected to have something new this time to show to
the traveller, but, to his great surprise, the latter,
without seeking for the signatures, many of which, indeed,
were only initials, named instantly the author of every
picture in such a manner that it was easy to see that each
name was not only known to him, but that each style
associated with it had been appreciated and studied by him.
From the salon they passed into the bed-chamber; it was