“It is half-past eleven o’clock; Haydée will soon be here. Have the French attendants been summoned to await her coming?”
Ali extended his hands towards the apartments destined for the fair Greek, which were so effectually concealed by means of a tapestried entrance, that it would have puzzled the most curious to have divined their existence.
Ali, having pointed to the apartments, held up three fingers of his right hand, and then, placing it beneath his head, shut his eyes, and feigned to sleep.
“I understand,” said Monte Cristo, well acquainted with Ali’s pantomime; “you mean to tell me that three female attendants await their new mistress in her sleeping-chamber.”
Ali, with considerable animation, made a sign in the affirmative.
“Madame will be tired tonight,” continued Monte Cristo, “and will, no doubt, wish to rest. Desire the French attendants not to weary her with questions, but merely to pay their respectful duty and retire. You will also see that the Greek servants hold no communication with those of this country.”
He bowed. Just at that moment voices were heard hailing the concierge. The gate opened, a carriage rolled down the avenue, and stopped at the steps.