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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 971/1279
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"
That
's
a
daring
rascal
,
"
whispered
the
count
.
At
that
moment
Ali
touched
him
slightly
on
the
shoulder
.
He
turned
;
Ali
pointed
to
the
window
of
the
room
in
which
they
were
,
facing
the
street
.
"
I
see
!
"
said
he
,
"
there
are
two
of
them
;
one
does
the
work
while
the
other
stands
guard
.
"
He
made
a
sign
to
Ali
not
to
lose
sight
of
the
man
in
the
street
,
and
turned
to
the
one
in
the
dressing-room
.
The
glass-cutter
had
entered
,
and
was
feeling
his
way
,
his
arms
stretched
out
before
him
.
At
last
he
appeared
to
have
made
himself
familiar
with
his
surroundings
.
There
were
two
doors
;
he
bolted
them
both
.
When
he
drew
near
to
the
bedroom
door
,
Monte
Cristo
expected
that
he
was
coming
in
,
and
raised
one
of
his
pistols
;
but
he
simply
heard
the
sound
of
the
bolts
sliding
in
their
copper
rings
.
It
was
only
a
precaution
.
The
nocturnal
visitor
,
ignorant
of
the
fact
that
the
count
had
removed
the
staples
,
might
now
think
himself
at
home
,
and
pursue
his
purpose
with
full
security
.
Alone
and
free
to
act
as
he
wished
,
the
man
then
drew
from
his
pocket
something
which
the
count
could
not
discern
,
placed
it
on
a
stand
,
then
went
straight
to
the
secretary
,
felt
the
lock
,
and
contrary
to
his
expectation
found
that
the
key
was
missing
.
But
the
glass-cutter
was
a
prudent
man
who
had
provided
for
all
emergencies
.
The
count
soon
heard
the
rattling
of
a
bunch
of
skeleton
keys
,
such
as
the
locksmith
brings
when
called
to
force
a
lock
,
and
which
thieves
call
nightingales
,
doubtless
from
the
music
of
their
nightly
song
when
they
grind
against
the
bolt
.
"
Ah
,
ha
,
"
whispered
Monte
Cristo
with
a
smile
of
disappointment
,
"
he
is
only
a
thief
.
"
But
the
man
in
the
dark
could
not
find
the
right
key
.
He
reached
the
instrument
he
had
placed
on
the
stand
,
touched
a
spring
,
and
immediately
a
pale
light
,
just
bright
enough
to
render
objects
distinct
,
was
reflected
on
his
hands
and
countenance
.
"
By
heavens
,
"
exclaimed
Monte
Cristo
,
starting
back
,
"
it
is
"
--
Ali
raised
his
hatchet
.
"
Do
n't
stir
,
"
whispered
Monte
Cristo
,
"
and
put
down
your
hatchet
;
we
shall
require
no
arms
.
"
Then
he
added
some
words
in
a
low
tone
,
for
the
exclamation
which
surprise
had
drawn
from
the
count
,
faint
as
it
had
been
,
had
startled
the
man
who
remained
in
the
pose
of
the
old
knife-grinder
.
It
was
an
order
the
count
had
just
given
,
for
immediately
Ali
went
noiselessly
,
and
returned
,
bearing
a
black
dress
and
a
three-cornered
hat
.
Meanwhile
Monte
Cristo
had
rapidly
taken
off
his
great-coat
,
waistcoat
,
and
shirt
,
and
one
might
distinguish
by
the
glimmering
through
the
open
panel
that
he
wore
a
pliant
tunic
of
steel
mail
,
of
which
the
last
in
France
,
where
daggers
are
no
longer
dreaded
,
was
worn
by
King
Louis
XVI.
,
who
feared
the
dagger
at
his
breast
,
and
whose
head
was
cleft
with
a
hatchet
.
The
tunic
soon
disappeared
under
a
long
cassock
,
as
did
his
hair
under
a
priest
's
wig
;
the
three-cornered
hat
over
this
effectually
transformed
the
count
into
an
abbe
.
The
man
,
hearing
nothing
more
,
stood
erect
,
and
while
Monte
Cristo
was
completing
his
disguise
had
advanced
straight
to
the
secretary
,
whose
lock
was
beginning
to
crack
under
his
nightingale
.
"
Try
again
,
"
whispered
the
count
,
who
depended
on
the
secret
spring
,
which
was
unknown
to
the
picklock
,
clever
as
he
might
be
-
"
try
again
,
you
have
a
few
minutes
'
work
there
.
"
And
he
advanced
to
the
window
.
The
man
whom
he
had
seen
seated
on
a
fence
had
got
down
,
and
was
still
pacing
the
street
;
but
,
strange
as
it
appeared
,
he
cared
not
for
those
who
might
pass
from
the
avenue
of
the
Champs
--
Elysees
or
by
the
Faubourg
St.
Honore
;
his
attention
was
engrossed
with
what
was
passing
at
the
count
's
,
and
his
only
aim
appeared
to
be
to
discern
every
movement
in
the
dressing-room
.
