prefer, I should think, to breathe in the garden rather than suffocate here, since they are not playing."
"Ah," said a gallant old general, who, in 1809, had sung Partout pour la Syrie," we will not go alone to the garden."
"Then," said Mercedes, "I will lead the way."
Turning toward Monte-Cristo, she added, "Count, will you oblige me with your arm?"
The count almost staggered at these simple words; then he fixed his eyes on Mercedes. It was but the glance of a moment, but it seemed to the countess to have lasted for a century, so much was expressed in that one look. He offered his arm to the countess; she leaned upon it, or rather just touched it with her little hand, and they together descended the steps, lined with rhododendrons and camellias. Behind them, by another outlet, a group of about twenty persons rushed into the garden with loud exclamations of delight.
