“Ah, my dear sir, you are most welcome; I was expecting you.”
“Indeed,” said the Italian, “was your excellency then aware of my visit?”
“Yes; I had been told that I should see you today at seven o’clock.”
“Then you have received full information concerning my arrival?”
“Of course.”
“Ah, so much the better, I feared this little precaution might have been forgotten.”
“What precaution?”
“That of informing you beforehand of my coming.”
“Oh, no, it has not.”
“But you are sure you are not mistaken.”
“Very sure.”
“It really was I whom your excellency expected at seven o’clock this evening?”
“I will prove it to you beyond a doubt.”
“Oh, no, never mind that,” said the Italian; “it is not worth the trouble.”
“Yes, yes,” said Monte Cristo. His visitor appeared slightly uneasy. “Let me see,” said the count; “are you not the Marquis Bartolomeo Cavalcanti?”
“Bartolomeo Cavalcanti,” joyfully replied the Italian; “yes, I am really he.”
“Ex-major in the Austrian service?”