“Yes, the third.”
“The one in the dark blue coat?”
“Yes.”
“He is a colleague of the count, and one of the most active opponents to the idea of providing the Chamber of Peers with a uniform.
He was very successful upon that question. He stood badly with the Liberal papers, but his noble opposition to the wishes of the court is now getting him into favor with the journalists.
They talk of making him an ambassador.”
“And what are his claims to the peerage?”
“He has composed two or three comic operas, written four or five articles in the Siècle , and voted five or six years on the ministerial side.”
“Bravo, viscount,” said Monte Cristo, smiling; “you are a delightful cicerone. And now you will do me a favor, will you not?”
“What is it?”
“Do not introduce me to any of these gentlemen; and should they wish it, you will warn me.”
Just then the count felt his arm pressed. He turned round; it was Danglars.
“Ah! is it you, baron?” said he.
“Why do you call me baron?” said Danglars; “you know that I care nothing for my title. I am not like you, viscount; you like your title, do you not?”