whispered:
“Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I call you.”
Ali bowed in token of strict obedience.
Monte Cristo then drew a lighted taper from a closet, and when the thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the door, taking care that the light should shine directly on his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard no sound; but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly illuminated. He turned.
“Ah, good evening, my dear M. Caderousse,” said Monte Cristo; “what are you doing here, at such an hour?”
“The Abbé Busoni!” exclaimed Caderousse; and, not knowing how this strange apparition could have entered when he had bolted the doors, he let fall his bunch of keys, and remained motionless and stupefied. The count placed himself between Caderousse and the window, thus cutting off from the thief his only chance of retreat.
“The Abbé Busoni!” repeated Caderousse, fixing his haggard gaze on the count.
“Yes, undoubtedly, the Abbé Busoni himself,” replied Monte Cristo. “And I am very glad you recognize me, dear M. Caderousse; it proves you have a good memory, for it must be about ten years since we last met.”
This calmness of Busoni, combined with his irony and boldness, staggered Caderousse.
“The