de France and sent up the letter. In ten minutes it was returned to you by the lady's valet, who said all the answer the Count of Monte-Cristo deserved from his mistress was written on the back."

Ali nodded his head in confirmation of his master's translation, looking as if he expected to be severely reprimanded for being the bearer of such an indignity. The Count, however, merely smiled. Curiosity rather than anger predominated in him. He turned the letter over and read, scrawled in pencil in a woman's hand, the following brief and enigmatical but insulting communication:

"Any Frenchman save the ignominious M. Dantès, the so-called Count of Monte-Cristo, would be welcome to Mlle. d' Armilly. That person she does not wish to see and will not."

The Count was perplexed and also amused. The fervor of the prima donna made him smile. He certainly did not know her, certainly had never seen her. Why then was she so bitter against him? He could make nothing out of it. Was it possible her name was really as familiar to him as it had seemed? The irate artiste had surely heard of the Count of Monte-Cristo and, therefore, could not be mistaken in regard to his identity, but in what way could he have injured her or incurred her anger? The more he thought of the matter the more perplexed he grew. As he was debating within himself what action he ought to take, there was a knock at the door and a domestic entered, handing him a card upon which was inscribed: "Captain Joliette."

"Ha!" cried Monte-Cristo, "he comes in time. He will aid me in solving this mystery."

He motioned Ali from the study, and directed the valet who had brought the card to show the visitor up at once. In another instant Captain Joliette entered the room. The Count sprang forward to greet him.

"Welcome, Captain," said he. "I have not seen you since our stirring adventures in Algeria.[4] I hope you are well and happy. By the way, what are you doing, in Rome? I was not aware you were here."

"I am here simply by chance," answered the young soldier, with a blush that belied his words. "I was in Italy on a little pleasure trip and naturally drifted to the Eternal City. I learned only this morning that you were installed at the Palazzo Costi and instantly hastened to pay my respects."

When their cordial greetings were over and they were seated side by side upon a commodious sofa luxuriously upholstered in crimson silk, the Count said, abruptly:

"Captain, did you ever hear of a French opera singer named Louise d' Armilly?"

Again the young man colored deeply, a circumstance that did not escape the close observation of his companion, who instantly divined that the famous prima donna counted for more in the reasons that had brought the Captain to Rome than that gallant warrior was willing to admit.

"Yes," stammered Joliette, "I have heard of her, and report says she is a remarkably charming lady as well as a great artiste."

"Your tone is enthusiastic, my dear Captain," returned Monte-Cristo, smiling pleasantly. "Perhaps you are acquainted with Mlle. d' Armilly."

"Well, to confess, Count," said Joliette, with a laugh, "I am acquainted with her, and, curiously enough, part of my mission here to-day was to ask you to occupy a box at the performance of 'Lucrezia Borgia' this evening. Will you accept?"

"With genuine delight," was Monte-Cristo's ready answer. "I desire to see this mysterious prima donna for more than one reason. In the first place, her name is dimly familiar to me, though I cannot remember where I ever heard it, and, in the second place, she flatly refused a visit from me no later than this morning."

Joliette looked greatly surprised.

"Refused a visit from you, Count! I would not believe it did I not hear it from your own lips. Mlle. d' Armilly must be mad! She surely cannot know what an honor it is to receive a visit from the Count of Monte-Cristo!"

The Count smiled in his peculiar way, and handed the Captain Mlle. d' Armilly's singular reply to his note. The young man glanced at it in amazement, reading it again and again; finally he stammered out:

"It is her handwriting, but what can she mean?"

"That is exactly what I would like to know, and I see by your manner and words that you are powerless to enlighten me. Still, you can tell me who this Mlle. d' Armilly is, and that will in all probability furnish me with the key to her rather shabby treatment of me."

"My dear Count, I am acquainted with the young lady, it is true, but, like yourself, I am in total ignorance so far as her history is concerned. She is French, that is evident, and she has gone so far as to admit to me that Louise d' Armilly is only her professional name, but what her real name is she has more than once positively refused to disclose to me. She is equally reticent as to the rumors afloat regarding her. You are, doubtless, aware that she is reputed to be the daughter of a French banker who mysteriously disappeared. This she neither denies nor affirms; she merely maintains an obstinate silence whenever it is mentioned in her presence."

"Your recital interests me greatly, Captain," said Monte-Cristo. "You are more privileged than myself in that you enjoy the acquaintance of this eccentric young lady, but she does not seem to repose a greater degree of confidence in you than in me, for she has told you absolutely nothing."

"Well," said Joliette, "you will see her to-night, at any rate, despite her prohibition. She cannot keep you out of the theatre, for the box is purchased and here are the tickets."

"But she will be angry with you, Captain," said the Count, slyly, "for bringing such an undesirable auditor. I had better go alone and occupy some obscure seat. I do not wish you to forfeit Mlle. d' Armilly's smiles for me."

"Pshaw!" replied Joliette, "there is plainly some mistake. She does not know you, will not recognize you. She has certainly confounded you with some one else."

"Perhaps so," said Monte-Cristo; "but women's memories are good, and I warn you that you are taking a grave risk."

"None whatever, I assure you. It is more than likely that, in answering your note as she did, Mlle. d' Armilly was influenced solely by caprice. If she should ask me after the performance who was my companion, I have only to give you a fictitious name and she will be none the wiser."

That evening Captain Joliette and the Count of Monte-Cristo made their way through the dense throng in front of the Apollo Theatre, and were finally shown into a lower proscenium box commanding a full view of the stage. Monte-Cristo instinctively sought refuge behind the curtains and drapery of the box, where he could sit unobserved and yet be enabled to closely scrutinize the mysterious singer who appeared to have such an intense aversion for him.

Although still early the house was already crowded in every part, and throngs were unable to gain even admission. The vast audience was made up chiefly of the best and most fashionable society in Rome. It included many of the highest nobility, who occupied the boxes they held for the season. Everywhere the bright colored, elegant toilets of the ladies met the eye, while the gentlemen were brilliant in fête attire. Fresh young faces and noble old visages were side by side, the beauty of youth and the impressiveness of age, and the male countenances were not less striking than those of the females. Truly, it was a grand assemblage, one that should delight the heart and flatter the vanity of even the most capricious of