me, and no matter what you may see or hear, if you
wish our enterprise to be crowned with success utter not a word, not a
sound, until I give you permission!"

The Count entered the corridor, followed by his perplexed and astounded
friend. Immediately the door closed noiselessly behind them and they
found themselves amid thick darkness. Monte-Cristo took M. Morrel by the
hand, leading him forward until their progress was completely barred by
what appeared to be the end of the corridor. Here the Count paused and
said some words in Hebrew. A faint response came promptly from beyond
the corridor in the same language, and immediately the light of a lamp
flashed upon the visitors. A door had opened and on the threshold stood
the strangest looking specimen of humanity Maximilian had ever beheld.
The new comer was a very aged man, with stooped shoulders, a long white
beard that reached to his waist and a profusion of snowy hair that
escaped from beneath a cap of purple velvet at the side of which hung a
bright crimson tassel. He wore a long Persian caftan of pink satin,
profusely and beautifully embroidered with gold, full oriental trousers
of red velvet and elaborately adorned slippers of tiger skin. On his
long, bony fingers sparkled several diamond rings undoubtedly of immense
value and a cluster of brilliant emeralds magnificently set in gold
adorned his breast. This singular vision of eastern luxury, wealth and
sumptuousness held the lamp, which was of wrought bronze and resembled
those found among the ruins of ancient Pompeii, above his head and by
its light Maximilian could see that his eyes were keen and piercing and
that his countenance betokened the highest intellectuality.

"Who is it that thus summons the sage from his meditations?" asked the
old man, in a remarkably youthful voice. This time he spoke in Italian.

"One who served you in the past, oh! Dr. Absalom," replied Monte-Cristo,
also using the language of Italy, "and who now solicits a service of you
in return. Remember the mob of Athens and the Frank who interposed to
save you from destruction!"

The old man lowered his lamp and held it close to his famous visitor's
face; then he joyfully exclaimed:

"Welcome, Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte-Cristo! Welcome to the abode of
your devoted servant Israel Absalom! Whatever he can do to serve you
shall be done, no matter at what cost!"

Then, for the first time, he observed that the Count was not alone and
f