isto with charming artlessness.

"Where have you come from, my dear count?" said Albert.

"From Congo, if you will."

"It must be farther off than even that."

"But what do I know of your Parisian husbands?"

"Oh, my dear count, husbands are pretty much the same everywhere; an
individual husband of any country is a pretty fair specimen of the whole
race."

"But then, what can have led to the quarrel between Danglars and Debray?
They seemed to understand each other so well," said Monte Cristo with
renewed energy.

"Ah, now you are trying to penetrate into the mysteries of Isis, in
which I am not initiated. When M. Andrea Cavalcanti has become one of
the family, you can ask him that question." The carriage stopped. "Here
we are," said Monte Cristo; "it is only half-past ten o'clock, come in."

"Certainly I will."

"My carriage shall take you back."

"No, thank you; I gave orders for my coupe to follow me."

"There it is, then," said Monte Cristo, as he stepped out of the
carriage. They both went into the house; the drawing-room was lighted
up--they went in there. "You will make tea for us, Baptistin," said the
count. Baptistin left the room without waiting to answer, and in
two seconds reappeared, bringing on a waiter all that his master had
ordered, ready prepared, and appearing to have sprung from the ground,
like the repasts which we read of in fairy tales. "Really, my dear
count," said Morcerf, "what I admire in you is, not so much your riches,
for perhaps there are people even wealthier than yourself, nor is it
only your wit, for Beaumarchais might have possessed as much,--but it
is your manner of being served, without any questions, in a moment, in
a second; it is as if they guessed what you wanted by your manner of
ringing, and made a point of keeping everything you can possibly desire
in constant readiness."

"What you say is perhaps true; they know my habits. For instance, you
shall see; how do you wish to occupy yourself during tea-time?"

"Ma foi, I should like to smoke."

Monte Cristo took the gong and struck it once. In about the space of a
second a private door opened, and Ali appeared, bringing two chibouques
filled with excellent latakia. "It is quite wonderful," said Albert.

"Oh no, it is as simple as possible," replied Monte Cristo. "Ali knows I
generally smoke while I am taking my tea or coffee; he has heard that I
ordered tea, and he also knows that I brought you home with me; when I