第382章

Everything appeared as usual -- the precious secretary in its place, and the key in the secretary.He double locked it, took the key, returned to the bedroom door, removed the double staple of the bolt, and went in.Meanwhile Ali had procured the arms the count required -- namely, a short carbine and a pair of double-barrelled pistols, with which as sure an aim might be taken as with a single-barrelled one.Thus armed, the count held the lives of five men in his hands.It was about half-past nine.The count and Ali ate in haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine;then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, which enabled him to see into the adjoining room.He had within his reach his pistols and carbine, and Ali, standing near him, held one of the small Arabian hatchets, whose form has not varied since the Crusades.Through one of the windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the dressing-room, the count could see into the street.

Two hours passed thus.It was intensely dark; still Ali, thanks to his wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness the slightest movement of the trees.The little light in the lodge had long been extinct.It might be expected that the attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be made from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a window; in Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his life, not his money.It would be his bedroom they would attack, and they must reach it by the back staircase, or by the window in the dressing-room.The clock of the Invalides struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on its moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes.

As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a slight noise in the dressing-room; this first sound, or rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a third; at the fourth, the count knew what to expect.A firm and well-practised hand was engaged in cutting the four sides of a pane of glass with a diamond.The count felt his heart beat more rapidly.Inured as men may be to danger, forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between the project and the execution.However, Monte Cristo only made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his master.Monte Cristo was eager to ascertain the strength and number of his enemies.

The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the opening by which the count could see into the dressing-room.

He fixed his eyes on that window -- he distinguished a shadow in the darkness; then one of the panes became quite opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, then the square cracked without falling.Through the opening an arm was passed to find the fastening, then a second; the window turned on its hinges, and a man entered.He was alone.

"That's a daring rascal," whispered the count.

At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder.He turned; Ali pointed to the window of the room in which they were, facing the street."I see!" said he, "there are two of them; one does the work while the other stands guard." He made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the man in the street, and turned to the one in the dressing-room.

The glass-cutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his arms stretched out before him.At last he appeared to have made himself familiar with his surroundings.There were two doors; he bolted them both.

When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected that he was coming in, and raised one of his pistols; but he simply heard the sound of the bolts sliding in their copper rings.It was only a precaution.The nocturnal visitor, ignorant of the fact that the count had removed the staples, might now think himself at home, and pursue his purpose with full security.Alone and free to act as he wished, the man then drew from his pocket something which the count could not discern, placed it on a stand, then went straight to the secretary, felt the lock, and contrary to his expectation found that the key was missing.But the glass-cutter was a prudent man who had provided for all emergencies.The count soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as the locksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which thieves call nightingales, doubtless from the music of their nightly song when they grind against the bolt."Ah, ha,"whispered Monte Cristo with a smile of disappointment, "he is only a thief."But the man in the dark could not find the right key.He reached the instrument he had placed on the stand, touched a spring, and immediately a pale light, just bright enough to render objects distinct, was reflected on his hands and countenance."By heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, starting back, "it is" --Ali raised his hatchet."Don't stir," whispered Monte Cristo, "and put down your hatchet; we shall require no arms." Then he added some words in a low tone, for the exclamation which surprise had drawn from the count, faint as it had been, had startled the man who remained in the pose of the old knife-grinder.It was an order the count had just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and returned, bearing a black dress and a three-cornered hat.

Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly taken off his great-coat, waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish by the glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant tunic of steel mail, of which the last in France, where daggers are no longer dreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI., who feared the dagger at his breast, and whose head was cleft with a hatchet.The tunic soon disappeared under a long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig; the three-cornered hat over this effectually transformed the count into an abbe.