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<h2> Chapter 49. Haidee. </h2>
<p>It will be recollected that the new, or rather old, acquaintances of the
Count of Monte Cristo, residing in the Rue Meslay, were no other than
Maximilian, Julie, and Emmanuel. The very anticipations of delight to be
enjoyed in his forthcoming visits—the bright, pure gleam of heavenly
happiness it diffused over the almost deadly warfare in which he had
voluntarily engaged, illumined his whole countenance with a look of
ineffable joy and calmness, as, immediately after Villefort's departure,
his thoughts flew back to the cheering prospect before him, of tasting, at
least, a brief respite from the fierce and stormy passions of his mind.
Even Ali, who had hastened to obey the Count's summons, went forth from
his master's presence in charmed amazement at the unusual animation and
pleasure depicted on features ordinarily so stern and cold; while, as
though dreading to put to flight the agreeable ideas hovering over his
patron's meditations, whatever they were, the faithful Nubian walked on
tiptoe towards the door, holding his breath, lest its faintest sound
should dissipate his master's happy reverie.</p>
<p>It was noon, and Monte Cristo had set apart one hour to be passed in the
apartments of Haidee, as though his oppressed spirit could not all at once
admit the feeling of pure and unmixed joy, but required a gradual
succession of calm and gentle emotions to prepare his mind to receive full
and perfect happiness, in the same manner as ordinary natures demand to be
inured by degrees to the reception of strong or violent sensations. The
young Greek, as we have already said, occupied apartments wholly
unconnected with those of the count. The rooms had been fitted up in
strict accordance with Oriental ideas; the floors were covered with the
richest carpets Turkey could produce; the walls hung with brocaded silk of
the most magnificent designs and texture; while around each chamber
luxurious divans were placed, with piles of soft and yielding cushions,
that needed only to be arranged at the pleasure or convenience of such as
sought repose. Haidee and three French maids, and one who was a Greek. The
first three remained constantly in a small waiting-room, ready to obey the
summons of a small golden bell, or to receive the orders of the Romaic
slave, who knew just enough French to be able to transmit her mistress's
wishes to the three other waiting-women; the latter had received most
peremptory instructions from Monte Cristo to treat Haidee with all the
deference they would observe to a queen.</p>
<p>The young girl herself generally passed her time in the chamber at the
farther end of her apartments. This was a sort of boudoir, circular, and
lighted only from the roof, which consisted of rose-colored glass. Haidee
was reclining upon soft downy cushions, covered with blue satin spotted
with silver; her head, supported by one of her exquisitely moulded arms,
rested on the divan immediately behind her, while the other was employed
in adjusting to her lips the coral tube of a rich narghile, through whose
flexible pipe she drew the smoke fragrant by its passage through perfumed
water. Her attitude, though perfectly natural for an Eastern woman would,
in a European, have been deemed too full of coquettish straining after
effect. Her dress, which was that of the women of Epirus, consisted of a
pair of white satin trousers, embroidered with pink roses, displaying feet
so exquisitely formed and so delicately fair, that they might well have
been taken for Parian marble, had not the eye been undeceived by their
movements as they constantly shifted in and out of a pair of little
slippers with upturned toes, beautifully ornamented with gold and pearls.
She wore a blue and white-striped vest, with long open sleeves, trimmed
with silver loops and buttons of pearls, and a sort of bodice, which,
closing only from the centre to the waist, exhibited the whole of the
ivory throat and upper part of the bosom; it was fastened with three
magnificent diamond clasps. The junction of the bodice and drawers was
entirely concealed by one of the many-colored scarfs, whose brilliant hues
and rich silken fringe have rendered them so precious in the eyes of
Parisian belles. Tilted on one side of her head she had a small cap of
gold-colored silk, embroidered with pearls; while on the other a purple
rose mingled its glowing colors with the luxuriant masses of her hair, of
which the blackness was so intense that it was tinged with blue. The
extreme beauty of the countenance, that shone forth in loveliness that
mocked the vain attempts of dress to augment it, was peculiarly and purely
Grecian; there were the large, dark, melting eyes, the finely formed nose,
the coral lips, and pearly teeth, that belonged to her race and country.
And, to complete the whole, Haidee was in the very springtide and fulness
of youthful charms—she had not yet numbered more than twenty
summers.</p>
<p>Monte Cristo summoned the Greek attendant, and bade her inquire whether it
would be agreeable to her mistress to receive his visit. Haidee's only
reply was to direct her servant by a sign to withdraw the tapestried
curtain that hung before the door of her boudoir, the framework of the
opening thus made serving as a sort of border to the graceful tableau
presented by the young girl's picturesque attitude and appearance. As
Monte Cristo approached, she leaned upon the elbow of the arm that held
the narghile, and extending to him her other hand, said, with a smile of
captivating sweetness, in the sonorous language spoken by the women of
Athens and Sparta, "Why demand permission ere you enter? Are you no longer
my master, or have I ceased to be your slave?" Monte Cristo returned her
smile. "Haidee," said he, "you well know."</p>
<p>"Why do you address me so coldly—so distantly?" asked the young
Greek. "Have I by any means displeased you? Oh, if so, punish me as you
will; but do not—do not speak to me in tones and manner so formal
and constrained."</p>
<p>"Haidee," replied the count, "you know that you are now in France, and are
free."</p>
<p>"Free to do what?" asked the young girl.</p>
<p>"Free to leave me."</p>
<p>"Leave you? Why should I leave you?"</p>
<p>"That is not for me to say; but we are now about to mix in society—to
visit and be visited."</p>
<p>"I don't wish to see anybody but you."</p>
<p>"And should you see one whom you could prefer, I would not be so unjust"—</p>
<p>"I have never seen any one I preferred to you, and I have never loved any
one but you and my father."</p>
<p>"My poor child," replied Monte Cristo, "that is merely because your father
and myself are the only men who have ever talked to you."</p>
<p>"I don't want anybody else to talk to me. My father said I was his 'joy'—you
style me your 'love,'—and both of you have called me 'my child.'"</p>
<p>"Do you remember your father, Haidee?" The young Greek smiled. "He is
here, and here," said she, touching her eyes and her heart. "And where am
I?" inquired Monte Cristo laughingly.</p>
<p>"You?" cried she, with tones of thrilling tenderness, "you are
everywhere!" Monte Cristo took the delicate hand of the young girl in his,
and was about to raise it to his lips, when the simple child of nature
hastily withdrew it, and presented her cheek. "You now understand,
Haidee," said the count, "that from this moment you are absolutely free;
that here you exercise unlimited sway, and are at liberty to lay aside or
continue the costume of your country, as it may suit your inclination.
Within this mansion you are absolute mistress of your actions, and may go
abroad or remain in your apartments as may seem most agreeable to you. A
carriage waits your orders, and Ali and Myrtho will accompany you
whithersoever you desire to go. There is but one favor I would entreat of
you."</p>
<p>"Speak."</p>
<p>"Guard carefully the secret of your birth. Make no allusion to the past;
nor upon any occasion be induced to pronounce the names of your
illustrious father or ill-fated mother."</p>
<p>"I have already told you, my lord, that I shall see no one."</p>
<p>"It is possible, Haidee, that so perfect a seclusion, though conformable
with the habits and customs of the East, may not be practicable in Paris.
Endeavor, then, to accustom yourself to our manner of living in these
northern climes as you did to those of Rome, Florence, Milan, and Madrid;
it may be useful to you one of these days, whether you remain here or
return to the East." The young girl raised her tearful eyes towards Monte
Cristo as she said with touching earnestness, "Whether we return to the
East, you mean to say, my lord, do you not?"</p>
<p>"My child," returned Monte Cristo "you know full well that whenever we
part, it will be no fault or wish of mine; the tree forsakes not the
flower—the flower falls from the tree."</p>
<p>"My lord," replied Haidee, "I never will leave you, for I am sure I could
not exist without you."</p>
<p>"My poor girl, in ten years I shall be old, and you will be still young."</p>
<p>"My father had a long white beard, but I loved him; he was sixty years
old, but to me he was handsomer than all the fine youths I saw."</p>
<p>"Then tell me, Haidee, do you believe you shall be able to accustom
yourself to our present mode of life?"</p>
<p>"Shall I see you?"</p>
<p>"Every day."</p>
<p>"Then what do you fear, my lord?"</p>
<p>"You might find it dull."</p>
<p>"No, my lord. In the morning, I shall rejoice in the prospect of your
coming, and in the evening dwell with delight on the happiness I have
enjoyed in your presence; then too, when alone, I can call forth mighty
pictures of the past, see vast horizons bounded only by the towering
mountains of Pindus and Olympus. Oh, believe me, that when three great
passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude fill the heart, ennui can
find no place."</p>
<p>"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Haidee, and your charming and
poetical ideas prove well your descent from that race of goddesses who
claim your country as their birthplace. Depend on my care to see that your
youth is not blighted, or suffered to pass away in ungenial solitude; and
of this be well assured, that if you love me as a father, I love you as a
child."</p>
<p>"You are wrong, my lord. The love I have for you is very different from
the love I had for my father. My father died, but I did not die. If you
were to die, I should die too." The Count, with a smile of profound
tenderness, extended his hand, and she carried it to her lips. Monte
Cristo, thus attuned to the interview he proposed to hold with Morrel and
his family, departed, murmuring as he went these lines of Pindar, "Youth
is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having
watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather and call it his own."
The carriage was prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into
it, the count drove off at his usual rapid pace.</p>
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