The dining-room of the Count, therefore, glittered with lights, and around a table filled with the rarest glass, from which was exhaled the perfume of a dinner fit for Lucullus, were about a dozen men, some of whom, Matheus, Taddeo, and d'Harcourt, we know already. The others, of whom we will hereafter speak more fully, were famous Carbonari, the founders of the French order, General A...., the banker H...., Count de Ch...., the merchant Ober, the _Avocat_ C...., and the illustrious Professor C.... Two of these gentlemen had come from Italy, and brought to Monte-Leone new orders from the central Venta of Naples, and also curious details about the progress or rather maturity of Carbonarism in the Two Sicilies and the neighboring countries. It had however been by common consent determined among the guests that none of the grave secrets of the order should be revealed at their joyous repast--that political questions should be postponed to more serious conferences: not that the members were not satisfied of the prudence of each other, but inquisitive ears hovered around this table, and with the exception of those of the prudent old Giacomo none could be trusted. There was especial reason for this, as vague rumors had for some time made the Carbonari distrustful. It was said that the Minister of Police had placed Count Monte-Leone under the strictest surveillance in consequence of his previous history. The objects of this dinner, which beyond doubt was subjected to some particular notice, was to prove that all the persons assembled were men of pleasure, and not agents of discord or conspirators.
"To our host," said d'Harcourt, filling his glass, "to his loves and conquests!"
"You will get drunk," said one of the guests, "if you drink to all of his conquests."
"All calumny," said Matheus. "The conversion of St. Augustine is no miracle since that of Monte-Leone. The gallant Italian is now a fresh anchorite, avoiding the pomps of Satan and the opera in this _Thebais_. With his friends he atones for past errors."
"The fact is, no one knows any thing about the Count's amours," said one of the guests.
"Well, then," said another, "that for one in society, as Monte-Leone is, he makes bad use of his eyes. The very mention of his Neapolitan adventures would turn the heads of ten Parisian women."