"Yes, certainly."
"Well, then, it is but fair that you should be paid for your loss of time and trouble," said the count; and he made a gesture of polite dismissal.
The notary left the room backward, and bowing down to the ground; it was the first time he had ever met a similar client.
"See this gentleman out," said the count to Bertuccio. And the steward followed the notary out of the room.
Scarcely was the count alone, when he drew from his pocket a book closed with a lock, and opened it with a key which he wore round his neck, and which never left him. After having sought for a few minutes, he stopped at a leaf which had several notes and compared them with the deed of sale, which lay on the table, and recalling his souvenirs—
"'Auteuil, Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28;' it is indeed the same," said he; "and now, am I to rely upon an avowal extorted by religious or physical terror? However, in an hour I shall know all. Bertuccio!" cried he, striking a light hammer with a pliant handle on a small gong. "Bertuccio!"
The steward appeared at the door.
"M. Bertuccio," said the count, "did you never tell me that you had traveled in France?"
"In some parts of France—yes, excellency."
"You know the environs of Paris, then?"
"No, excellency, no," returned the steward, with a sort of nervous trembling, which Monte-Cristo, a connoisseur in all emotions, rightly attributed to great disquietude.
"It is unfortunate," returned he, "that you have never visited the environs, for I wish to see my new property this evening, and had you gone with me, you could have given me some useful information."
"To Auteuil!" cried Bertuccio, whose copper complexion became livid, "I go to Auteuil!"
"Well, what is there surprising in that? When I live at Auteuil, you must come there, as you belong to my service."
Bertuccio hung down his head before the imperious look of his master, and remained motionless, without making any answer.
"Why, what has happened to you? are you going to make me ring a second time for the carriage?" asked Monte-Cristo, in the same tone that Louis XIV. pronounced the famous "I have almost been obliged to wait." Bertuccio made but one bound to the antechamber, and cried in a hoarse voice:
"His excellency's horses!"
Monte-Cristo wrote two or three notes, and as he sealed the last, the steward appeared.
