“I do.”

“Ah, then, I suppose you heard Haydée’s guzla; the poor exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me the airs of her native land.”

Morcerf did not pursue the subject, and Monte Cristo himself fell into a silent reverie.

The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the curtain.

“You will excuse my leaving you,” said the count, turning in the direction of his box.

“What? Are you going?”

“Pray, say everything that is kind to Countess G⁠⸺ on the part of her friend the vampire.”

“And what message shall I convey to the baroness!”

“That, with her permission, I shall do myself the honor of paying my respects in the course of the evening.”