pt"--

"Well; what of the postscript?"

"Then the postscript is as favorably received by you as the rest of the
letter?"

"Certainly; the Abbe Busoni and myself have a small account open between
us. I do not remember if it is exactly 48,000. francs, which I am still
owing him, but I dare say we shall not dispute the difference. You
attached great importance, then, to this postscript, my dear Monsieur
Cavalcanti?"

"I must explain to you," said the major, "that, fully confiding in the
signature of the Abbe Busoni, I had not provided myself with any other
funds; so that if this resource had failed me, I should have found
myself very unpleasantly situated in Paris."

"Is it possible that a man of your standing should be embarrassed
anywhere?" said Monte Cristo.

"Why, really I know no one," said the major.

"But then you yourself are known to others?"

"Yes, I am known, so that"--

"Proceed, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti."

"So that you will remit to me these 48,000 francs?"

"Certainly, at your first request." The major's eyes dilated with
pleasing astonishment. "But sit down," said Monte Cristo; "really I
do not know what I have been thinking of--I have positively kept you
standing for the last quarter of an hour."

"Don't mention it." The major drew an arm-chair towards him, and
proceeded to seat himself.

"Now," said the count, "what will you take--a glass of port, sherry, or
Alicante?"

"Alicante, if you please; it is my favorite wine."

"I have some that is very good. You will take a biscuit with it, will
you not?"

"Yes, I will take a biscuit, as you are so obliging."

Monte Cristo rang; Baptistin appeared. The count advanced to meet him.
"Well?" said he in a low voice. "The young man is here," said the valet
de chambre in the same tone.

"Into what room did you take him?"

"Into the blue drawing-room, according to your excellency's orders."

"That's right; now bring the Alicante and some biscuits."

Baptistin left the room. "Really," said the major, "I am quite ashamed
of the trouble I am giving you."

"Pray don't mention such a thing," said the count. Baptistin re-entered
with glasses, wine, and biscuits. The count filled one glass, but in the
other he only poured a few drops of the ruby-colored liquid. The bottle
was covered with spiders' webs, and all the other signs which indicate
the age of wine more truly than do wrinkles on a man's face. The major
made a wise choice; he took the f