“No, it would delay me, and I need the fatigue you warn me of; it will do me good.”

Albert reeled as if he had been shot, and fell on a chair near the door. Monte Cristo did not see this second manifestation of physical exhaustion; he was at the window, calling:

“Ali, a horse for M. de Morcerf⁠—quick! he is in a hurry!”

These words restored Albert; he darted from the room, followed by the count.

“Thank you!” cried he, throwing himself on his horse. “Return as soon as you can, Florentin. Must I use any password to procure a horse?”

“Only dismount; another will be immediately saddled.”