Unlimited Credit — The Count of Monte Cristo

At two o'clock Baron Danglars arrives in a calash with English horses and a diamond on his shirt, scanning Monte Cristo's house with the impertinent attention of a man who needs a favor dressed as a visit. His face shows cunning more than intelligence; his fortune is advertised on his chest. Ali's negative sign at first refuses him; Baptistin must explain that the count receives only announced guests.

Danglars reassures himself with Thomson and French unlimited credit and is finally admitted. He has come because the mysterious foreigner already circulates in Paris gossip, holds Morcerf introductions, and may become a client worth capturing before a rival bank does.

The tour of the Champs-Élysées mansion becomes a duel of display. Danglars notes horses, servants, and expense; the Count answers with calm inventories and the kind of wealth that does not need to boast because paper will speak for it. The baron catalogs what he can tax or lend; the Count catalogs what he can break.

When Danglars doubts the word unlimited, the Count opens two treasury orders for five hundred thousand francs each, payable at sight. The banker who prides himself on reading men finds himself read instead. Credit here is not friendship; it is a weapon that makes Danglars need the Count more than the Count needs Danglars.

The Count buys the baron's horses at double the price, a gesture that looks like extravagance and functions like ownership of the baron's pride. Bertuccio is sent to secure a Norman harbor for the corvette, proving the Count's Paris life is backed by naval mobility, not only salon credit. He mentions Eugénie Danglars and Albert's bandit story in the same breath, showing he already sits at the intersection of two houses tied to old Marseilles crimes.

Servant law closes the interview: Baptistin may lose his bonus if curiosity makes him gossip. The Count has trained a household where information is currency and discretion is paid for monthly.

Danglars bows and asks to precede the Count through the rooms, reversing the usual precedence so the host appears to follow his banker. The baron leaves believing he has gained a client; the reader sees a creditor measuring a debtor who does not yet know the account is open. Unlimited credit is not a favor; it is the first chain laid on the man who once profited from Edmond Dantès's arrest.