The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian — Albert’s Disappearance Raises Alarm at the Bracciano Ball (The Count of Monte Cristo, Chapter 37 – Part 2)

In The Count of Monte Cristo, the night after the Carnival brings unease as Franz arrives at the Duke of Bracciano’s ball without Albert.

Questioned by the duke and the Countess G——, he explains that he lost sight of his friend during the extinguishing of the moccoletti in the Via Macello.

What began as a presumed rendezvous now appears uncertain, as the dangers of the Roman streets at night are raised in conversation. Franz can offer no clear answer, only that Albert remains in disguise and has not returned.

Concern replaces festivity as Albert’s absence becomes real.

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Passage

Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them, and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli, and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello.

“Then he has not returned?” said the duke.

“I waited for him until this hour,” replied Franz.

“And do you know whither he went?”

“No, not precisely; however, I think it was something very like a rendezvous.”

“Diavolo!” said the duke, “this is a bad day, or rather a bad night, to be out late; is it not, countess?”

These words were addressed to the Countess G——, who had just arrived, and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia, the duke’s brother.

“I think, on the contrary, that it is a charming night,” replied the countess, “and those who are here will complain of but one thing, that of its too rapid flight.”

“I am not speaking,” said the duke with a smile, “of the persons who are here; the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you, and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely; I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome.”

“Ah,” asked the countess, “who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour, unless it be to go to a ball?”

“Our friend, Albert de Morcerf, countess, whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o’clock this evening,” said Franz, “and whom I have not seen since.”

“And don’t you know where he is?”

“Not at all.”

“Is he armed?”

“He is in masquerade.”