not see him."

"Nothing has happened to him, I hope," said the count frowningly.

"The prisoner is there," replied Vampa, pointing to the hollow space in
front of which the bandit was on guard, "and I will go myself and tell
him he is free." The chief went towards the place he had pointed out
as Albert's prison, and Franz and the count followed him. "What is the
prisoner doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel.

"Ma foi, captain," replied the sentry, "I do not know; for the last hour
I have not heard him stir."

"Come in, your excellency," said Vampa. The count and Franz ascended
seven or eight steps after the chief, who drew back a bolt and opened
a door. Then, by the gleam of a lamp, similar to that which lighted the
columbarium, Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of
the bandits had lent him, lying in a corner in profound slumber. "Come,"
said the count, smiling with his own peculiar smile, "not so bad for a
man who is to be shot at seven o'clock to-morrow morning." Vampa looked
at Albert with a kind of admiration; he was not insensible to such a
proof of courage.

"You are right, your excellency," he said; "this must be one of your
friends." Then going to Albert, he touched him on the shoulder, saying,
"Will your excellency please to awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms,
rubbed his eyelids, and opened his eyes. "Oh," said he, "is it you,
captain? You should have allowed me to sleep. I had such a delightful
dream. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the Countess G----."
Then he drew his watch from his pocket, that he might see how time sped.

"Half-past one only?" said he. "Why the devil do you rouse me at this
hour?"

"To tell you that you are free, your excellency."

"My dear fellow," replied Albert, with perfect ease of mind, "remember,
for the future, Napoleon's maxim, 'Never awaken me but for bad news;' if
you had let me sleep on, I should have finished my galop, and have been
grateful to you all my life. So, then, they have paid my ransom?"

"No, your excellency."

"Well, then, how am I free?"

"A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you."

"Come hither?"

"Yes, hither."

"Really? Then that person is a most amiable person." Albert looked
around and perceived Franz. "What," said he, "is it you, my dear Franz,
whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?"

"No, not I," replied Franz, "but our neighbor, the Count of Monte
Cristo."

"Oh, my dear