CHAPTER 232: FREEDOM AT MIDNIGHT: I

The Danglars mansion emptied like an infectious disease broke out among the guests.

Just minutes ago, soldiers had burst into the elegant party, exposing Andrea Cavalcanti as an escaped convict and murderer. Now the guests fled in every direction, through doors, down staircases, abandoning all pretense of polite society. No one wanted to be associated with this scandal.

Only a handful of people remained in the vast house. Monsieur Danglars locked himself in his study, giving his statement to the police captain. Madame Danglars hid in her private room, terrified of what would happen next. And Eugénie Danglars, the would-be bride, stormed to her bedroom with her head held high and fury burning in her eyes. Her constant companion, Louise d’Armilly, followed close behind, pale and shaken.

The servants gathered in small groups throughout the house, gossiping and complaining. They felt insulted by the night’s chaos and had little interest in their duties anymore. But the servants didn’t matter to this story.

What mattered were two young women locked in a bedroom, about to change their lives forever.

Eugénie turned the key in the lock the moment they entered. Louise collapsed into a chair, her hands trembling.

"This is terrible," Louise whispered. "Who could have imagined? Andrea Cavalcanti, a murderer, an escaped prisoner, a convict!"

Eugénie’s lips curved into a bitter smile. "I’m cursed," she said flatly. "First I was engaged to Morcerf, and now Cavalcanti. Both disasters."

"Don’t compare them, Eugénie-"

"Be quiet! All men are the same, worthless. And now I don’t just hate them. I despise them completely."

Louise wrung her hands. "What are we going to do?"

"Do?" Eugénie’s eyes flashed with sudden excitement. "The same thing we planned three days ago. We leave."

"What? But you’re not getting married anymore, so why would we still-"

"Listen to me, Louise." Eugénie grabbed her friend’s shoulders. "I hate this life. Society, parties, rules, everything measured and controlled like notes on sheet music. I’ve always wanted something different. To be an artist, free and independent, relying on no one but myself. Why should I stay here? So my father can try to marry me off again next month? To some other man I don’t want? Maybe Debray this time? No. Absolutely not."

She released Louise and paced the room, energy crackling through her movements.

"Tonight’s disaster is my excuse. I didn’t ask for it, but fate handed it to me. I’m taking it."

Louise stared at her friend in admiration. "You’re so brave," she breathed. "So strong."

"You’re only now realizing this?" Eugénie laughed. "Come on, let’s discuss our plans. The carriage-"

"Already purchased three days ago."

"And sent to the pickup location?"

"Yes."

"Our travel documents?"

"Right here."

Louise pulled out a folded paper. Eugénie opened it and read aloud, "Léon d’Armilly, twenty years old, occupation: artist, black hair, black eyes, traveling with his sister."

"Perfect! How did you get this?"

"Remember when I asked the Count of Monte Cristo for introduction letters to the theater directors in Rome and Naples?" Louise explained. "I mentioned I was worried about traveling as a woman. He understood immediately and got me a man’s passport. Two days later, this arrived. I added ’traveling with his sister’ in my own handwriting."

"Excellent," Eugénie said, her excitement growing. "So we just need to pack our trunks. We’ll leave tonight, on the evening we were supposed to sign the marriage contract, instead of the evening of the wedding. That’s all that’s changed."

"But Eugénie, think about this seriously-"

"I’m done thinking! I’m exhausted from hearing about stock markets, monthly reports, Spanish investments, and bonds. Instead of that, Louise, do you understand? We’ll have fresh air, freedom, birdsong, the plains of Lombardy, Venetian canals, Roman palaces, the Bay of Naples!"

She grabbed Louise’s hands. "How much money do we have?"

Louise pulled out a small locked portfolio from an ornate desk and counted through the banknotes inside.

"Twenty-three thousand francs," she announced.

"Plus at least that much in pearls, diamonds, and jewelry," Eugénie added. "We’re rich! With forty-five thousand francs, we can live like princesses for two years, comfortably for four. And before six months pass, you with your music, me with my voice, we’ll double our capital. You’ll manage the money, I’ll handle the jewelry box. That way if one of us loses her treasure, the other still has hers. Now, the trunk, hurry!"

Louise jumped up and rushed to the door. "Wait," she whispered, pressing her ear against Madame Danglars’ door across the hall. "What if we’re discovered?"

"Our door is locked."

"They might order us to open it."

"Let them try. We won’t."

Louise smiled nervously. "You’re like an Amazon warrior, Eugénie!"

The two young women threw themselves into packing, stuffing everything essential into a large trunk. When it was full, Eugénie said, "While I change clothes, you lock the trunk."

Louise pressed down on the lid with all her strength, but it wouldn’t close. "I can’t do it," she panted. "I’m not strong enough. You shut it."

Eugénie laughed. "Good thing you asked! I forgot I’m Hercules and you’re delicate Omphale."

She knelt on top of the trunk and pressed down hard, forcing the two halves together while Louise slid the padlock through the bolt.

With that done, Eugénie opened a drawer she alone had the key to and pulled out a padded violet silk traveling cloak.

"Here," she said, handing it to Louise. "I’ve thought of everything. You won’t be cold with this."

"What about you?"

"I’m never cold. Besides, with men’s clothes-"

"You’re changing here?"

"Of course."

"Will you have enough time?"

"Don’t worry, you little coward! All the servants are busy gossiping about tonight’s scandal. Besides, what’s strange about me shutting myself in my room? Everyone would expect me to be grieving, right?"

"True. That makes me feel better."

"Then help me."

From the same drawer, Eugénie pulled out a complete set of men’s clothing, boots, pants, coat, everything, plus linens with nothing extra, but nothing missing either. With practiced movements that proved this wasn’t her first time dressing as a man, she pulled on the boots and pants, tied a cravat around her neck, buttoned a waistcoat up to her throat, and shrugged into a coat that fit her athletic figure perfectly.

"Oh, that’s wonderful!" Louise said, admiring her. "But your beautiful black hair, those magnificent braids that make all the ladies jealous, will they fit under a man’s hat?"

"Watch me," Eugénie said.

With her left hand, she grabbed the thick mass of hair her fingers could barely hold. In her right hand, she held long scissors. The steel blades met with a sharp sound, and her luxurious hair fell to the floor in a dark cascade as she leaned back to keep it off her coat.

Then she cut the front without hesitation or regret. Her eyes actually sparkled with pleasure beneath her dark eyebrows.

"Your gorgeous hair!" Louise mourned.

"Aren’t I a hundred times better like this?" Eugénie ran her fingers through her short, boyish curls. "Don’t you think I’m more handsome now?"

"You’re beautiful, you’re always beautiful!" Louise cried. "Now where are we going?"

"Brussels, if you want. It’s the nearest border. From there we can go to Liège, then up the Rhine to Strasbourg. We’ll cross Switzerland and enter Italy through the mountain passes. Sound good?"

"Yes."

"What are you looking at?"

"You. You’re absolutely adorable like that. It looks like you’re kidnapping me."

"And they’d be right to think so!"

"Oh! I think you just swore, Eugénie."

The two young women burst out laughing. Anyone watching would have thought they’d be drowning in grief, one over her ruined engagement, the other in sympathy, but instead they were giddy with excitement as they erased all traces of their preparations.