7 The carnival at Rome

Chapter 7 The carnival at Rome Almost one year after Edmond's escape from prison, a carriage clattered up to the most magnificent hotel in Rome. Two young men stepped out. One was Beauchamp, a writer from Paris. The other was Albert Mondego, the son of Mercedes and Fernand. "This is the finest hotel in Rome!" Albert declared. "Surely it is the perfect place to watch the carnival."

But inside, Albert's smile disappeared. "I'm afraid all of our rooms have been taken," the hotel manager said. "By one man." "What sort of man would take over an entire hotel?" asked Beauchamp. Albert was already marching upstairs to find out. He had boasted to his friends that he'd be staying in this hotel, and would look like a fool if he was not. But before he could decide which door to knock on, one of them flew open. A servant bowed. "Gentlemen," he said, "the Count of Monte Cristo is expecting you." "Expecting us?" Albert said. "What a peculiar thing."

Inside, the room was decorated like a palace, with tapestries on the walls and magnificent paintings in golden frames. Albert had never seen such luxury. "My father knows all of Europe's noblemen," he told Beauchamp, "but I've never heard of the Count of Monte Cristo. Who is this man?" A door flew open and in swept Edmond Dantes. His face was disguised by a neat beard and he wore a velvet cloak, intricately

embroidered with gold. He introduced himself as the Count of Monte Cristo. "Gentlemen," the Count said, bowing gracefully, "I hoped you would join me to watch the carnival from my balcony." As the Count led the way, Albert whispered to Beauchamp. "How mysterious! His skin is as white as snow. It is as if he has been living underground."

Fireworks fizzed into the sky as the carnival began. Costumed performers paraded through the streets, dancing, juggling and singing songs. As Albert and Beauchamp watched, the Count charmed them with tales of his travels around the world. "But it is Paris that I would most like to visit," he said. "My dear Count," Albert said. "I live in Paris! You must come and visit." "I would love to," said the Count. "Can you recommend a banker in the city to look after my money?" "There is none finer than Baron Danglars," Albert replied. "And you can meet my father too, Fernand Mondego." A muscle twitched in the Count's neck. "Perfect," he said. "I will come in exactly one month, at three o'clock." As more fireworks exploded over the balcony, Albert leaned to Beauchamp. "What a magnificent man!" he whispered. "I cannot wait for him to meet my parents."