summoned him he naturally guessed the reason of my doing so, and as he
comes from a country where hospitality is especially manifested through
the medium of smoking, he naturally concludes that we shall smoke in
company, and therefore brings two chibouques instead of one--and now the
mystery is solved."

"Certainly you give a most commonplace air to your explanation, but
it is not the less true that you--Ah, but what do I hear?" and Morcerf
inclined his head towards the door, through which sounds seemed to issue
resembling those of a guitar.

"Ma foi, my dear viscount, you are fated to hear music this evening; you
have only escaped from Mademoiselle Danglars' piano, to be attacked by
Haidee's guzla."

"Haidee--what an adorable name! Are there, then, really women who bear
the name of Haidee anywhere but in Byron's poems?"

"Certainly there are. Haidee is a very uncommon name in France, but is
common enough in Albania and Epirus; it is as if you said, for example,
Chastity, Modesty, Innocence,--it is a kind of baptismal name, as you
Parisians call it."

"Oh, that is charming," said Albert, "how I should like to hear my
countrywomen called Mademoiselle Goodness, Mademoiselle Silence,
Mademoiselle Christian Charity! Only think, then, if Mademoiselle
Danglars, instead of being called Claire-Marie-Eugenie, had been named
Mademoiselle Chastity-Modesty-Innocence Danglars; what a fine effect
that would have produced on the announcement of her marriage!"

"Hush," said the count, "do not joke in so loud a tone; Haidee may hear
you, perhaps."

"And you think she would be angry?"

"No, certainly not," said the count with a haughty expression.

"She is very amiable, then, is she not?" said Albert.

"It is not to be called amiability, it is her duty; a slave does not
dictate to a master."

"Come; you are joking yourself now. Are there any more slaves to be had
who bear this beautiful name?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Really, count, you do nothing, and have nothing like other people.
The slave of the Count of Monte Cristo! Why, it is a rank of itself in
France, and from the way in which you lavish money, it is a place that
must be worth a hundred thousand francs a year."

"A hundred thousand francs! The poor girl originally possessed much
more than that; she was born to treasures in comparison with which those
recorded in the 'Thousand and One Nights' would seem but poverty."

"She must be a princess then."

"You are righ