gn to open it?" said the delighted Bertuccio,
"and you will find gloves in it." Elsewhere the count found everything
he required--smelling-bottles, cigars, knick-knacks.

"Good," he said; and M. Bertuccio left enraptured, so great, so
powerful, and real was the influence exercised by this man over all who
surrounded him. At precisely six o'clock the clatter of horses' hoofs
was heard at the entrance door; it was our captain of Spahis, who had
arrived on Medeah. "I am sure I am the first," cried Morrel; "I did it
on purpose to have you a minute to myself, before every one came. Julie
and Emmanuel have a thousand things to tell you. Ah, really this is
magnificent! But tell me, count, will your people take care of my
horse?"

"Do not alarm yourself, my dear Maximilian--they understand."

"I mean, because he wants petting. If you had seen at what a pace he
came--like the wind!"

"I should think so,--a horse that cost 5,000 francs!" said Monte Cristo,
in the tone which a father would use towards a son.

"Do you regret them?" asked Morrel, with his open laugh.

"I? Certainly not," replied the count. "No; I should only regret if the
horse had not proved good."

"It is so good, that I have distanced M. de Chateau-Renaud, one of the
best riders in France, and M. Debray, who both mount the minister's
Arabians; and close on their heels are the horses of Madame Danglars,
who always go at six leagues an hour."

"Then they follow you?" asked Monte Cristo.

"See, they are here." And at the same minute a carriage with smoking
horses, accompanied by two mounted gentlemen, arrived at the gate, which
opened before them. The carriage drove round, and stopped at the steps,
followed by the horsemen. The instant Debray had touched the ground,
he was at the carriage-door. He offered his hand to the baroness, who,
descending, took it with a peculiarity of manner imperceptible to every
one but Monte Cristo. But nothing escaped the count's notice, and he
observed a little note, passed with the facility that indicates frequent
practice, from the hand of Madame Danglars to that of the minister's
secretary. After his wife the banker descended, as pale as though he had
issued from his tomb instead of his carriage. Madame Danglars threw
a rapid and inquiring glance which could only be interpreted by Monte
Cristo, around the court-yard, over the peristyle, and across the front
of the house, then, repressing a slight emotion, which must have b