“Poor Eugénie!” said Danglars; “do you know she is going to embrace a religious life?”
“No.”
“Alas, it is unhappily but too true. The day after the event, she decided on leaving Paris with a nun of her acquaintance; they are gone to seek a very strict convent in Italy or Spain.”
“Oh, it is terrible!” and M. de Boville retired with this exclamation, after expressing acute sympathy with the father. But he had scarcely left before Danglars, with an energy of action those can alone understand who have seen Robert Macaire represented by Frédérick, exclaimed:
“Fool!”
Then enclosing Monte Cristo’s receipt in a little pocketbook, he added:—“Yes, come at twelve o’clock; I shall then be far away.”
Then he double-locked his door, emptied all his drawers, collected about fifty thousand francs in banknotes, burned several papers, left others exposed to view, and then commenced writing a letter which he addressed:
“To Madame la Baronne Danglars.”
“I will place it on her table myself tonight,” he murmured. Then taking a passport from his drawer he said—“Good, it is available for two months longer.”