The Count of Monte Cristo

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Chapter 37. The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian.

In his whole life, perhaps, Franz had never before experienced so sudden
an impression, so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness, as in this
moment. It seemed as though Rome, under the magic breath of some demon
of the night, had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. By a chance, which
added yet more to the intensity of the darkness, the moon, which was on
the wane, did not rise until eleven o'clock, and the streets which the
young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. The distance
was short, and at the end of ten minutes his carriage, or rather the
count's, stopped before the Hotel de Londres. Dinner was waiting, but
as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon, Franz sat down
without him. Signor Pastrini, who had been accustomed to see them dine
together, inquired into the cause of his absence, but Franz merely
replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation
which he had accepted. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti, the
darkness which had replaced the light, and the silence which had