CHAPTER XLVI
UNLIMITED CREDIT
BOUT two o'clock the following day a caléche, drawn by a pair of magnificent English horses, stopped at the door of Monte-Cristo, and a person dressed in a blue coat, with buttons of a similar color, a white waistcoat, over which was displayed a massive gold chain, brown trousers, and a quantity of black hair descending so low over his eyebrows as to leave it doubtful whether it were not artificial, so little did its jetty glossiness assimilate with the deep wrinkles stamped on his features,—a person, in a word, who, although evidently past fifty, desired to be taken for not more than forty,—bent forward from the carriage-door, on the panels of which were emblazoned the armorial bearings of a baron, and directed his groom to inquire at the porter's lodge whether the Count of MonteCristo resided there, and if he were within.
While waiting, the occupant of the carriage surveyed the house, the garden so far as he could distinguish it, and the livery of the servants who passed to and fro, with an attention so close as to be somewhat impertinent. His glance was keen, but evincing rather cunning than intelligence; his lips were straight, and so thin that, as they closed, they were compressed within the mouth; his cheek-bones were broad and projecting, a never-failing proof of craftiness; while the flatness of his forehead, and the enlargement of the back of his skull, which extended beyond his large and vulgarly shaped ears, gave a repulsive look to this man, whom the mob admired for his fine horses, his diamond shirt-studs, and the red ribbon that depended from his button-hole.
The groom tapped at the window of the porter's lodge, saying:
"Pray, does not the Count of Monte-Cristo live here?"
"His excellency does reside here," replied the concierge; "but added he, glancing an inquiring look at Ali. Ali returned a sign in the negative.
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