the lake rose an exquisite little Norman building, intended as a sort of kiosk, covered with exquisite carvings, the designs being by Mansson, a decorator of great eminence. Blended with the sound of falling waters—for an artificial torrent had been contrived, that tumbled over rocks as artificially arranged—was heard the chattering of monkeys, and the screaming of parrots, while huge barbaric dogs of strange shapes and colour ranged through the groves. Such was 'Monte Cristo,' which was now the talk of Paris."
Here Dumas's hospitality was princely, unlimited. "At his Abbotsford 'Monte Cristo,'" Mr Lang reminds us, "the gates were open to everybody but bailiffs. His dog asked other dogs to come and stay; twelve came, making thirteen in all. The old butler wanted to turn them adrift, and Dumas consented and repented.
"'Michel,' he said, 'there are some expenses which a man's social position and the character which he has had the ill-luck to receive from heaven force upon him. I don't believe these dogs ruin me. Let them bide. But, in the interests of their own good luck, see that they are not thirteen, an unfortunate number!'
"'Monsieur, I'll drive one of them away.'
"'No, no, Michel; let a fourteenth come.... These dogs cost me some £3 a month,' said
