countenance, bringing out into bold relief all his wonderful nobility
and benevolence of expression.

As midnight struck in every clock-tower in Paris, the usual solitude of
the Rue du Helder at that dead hour was broken by the appearance of a
sinister figure at the little gate of Monte-Cristo's garden. This figure
was almost instantly followed by another hardly less forbidding. Both
wore masks and moved as stealthily as cats. The second figure addressed
the first, speaking in a cautious whisper:

"Bouche-de-Miel, is that you?"

"Yes. Siebecker, have you the key?" muttered the other, scarcely above
his breath.

"Here it is, old man. Now to work. The others will be on hand in a
moment. Open the gate and let us get in."

Bouche-de-Miel took the key, which was covered with oil to prevent
grating, and inserted it in the lock. It fitted to a charm and turned
noiselessly. Bouche-de-Miel gave the gate a gentle push; it yielded,
swinging open without a sound. The two men passed inside, partially
closing it after them. The moonlight fell upon the seat that Zuleika and
Mlle. d' Armilly had occupied beneath the honey-suckle-covered arbor
that morning; Bouche-de-Miel gave a sudden start as he glanced at it,
half-repenting of having yielded to Waldmann's command under the impulse
of his hatred for Monte-Cristo and his desire for revenge; he trembled
violently in spite of all his efforts to maintain composure and his face
became one mass of sweat beneath his protecting mask. Siebecker noticed
his agitation and gave vent to a smothered curse.

"Sacre nom d' un chien!" he muttered, between his teeth, "if you go on
like that, old man, it would have been better had Waldmann let you off.
You can't do this job with an unsteady hand. Brace up, brace up,
Bouche-de-Miel! What's that?"

There was a slight noise at the gate. Grasping his tremulous companion
by the arm, Siebecker hurriedly drew him behind a clump of small
chestnut trees. No sooner were they hidden than three masked men
cautiously opened the gate and came on tip-toe into the garden.
Waldmann, Peppino and Beppo had arrived and were ready to do their share
of the nefarious work. Siebecker and Bouche-de-Miel silently emerged
from their hiding-place and joined them.

Waldmann glanced about him, evidently satisfied.

"So far so good," said he, in an undertone. "We are all here on time. Do
not let us waste an instant. Have you steadied your nerves with plenty
of brandy, Bo