on the procureur, and embracing his wife.
After a short time, the count saw Bertuccio, who, until then, had been occupied on the other side of the house, glide into an adjoining room. He went to him.
“What do you want, M. Bertuccio?” said he.
“Your excellency has not stated the number of guests.”
“Ah, true.”
“How many covers?”
“Count for yourself.”
“Is everyone here, your excellency?”
“Yes.”
Bertuccio glanced through the door, which was ajar. The count watched him.
“Good heavens!” he exclaimed.