was impossible to be offended at it.
“Why should he doubt it?” said Beauchamp to Château-Renaud.
“In reality,” replied the latter, who, with his aristocratic glance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated at once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, “Albert has not deceived us, for the count is a most singular being. What say you, Morrel!”
“Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, in spite of the singular remark he has made about me.”
“Gentlemen,” said Albert, “Germain informs me that breakfast is ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way.”
They passed silently into the breakfast-room, and everyone took his place.
“Gentlemen,” said the count, seating himself, “permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse for any