rything is silent," he whispered. "No doubt all the members of the
household, including the redoubtable Count himself, are fast asleep. We
shall have an easy thing of it."

He went upon the back porch and tried the door of the servants'
quarters. It had been carelessly left unlocked. He opened it and peered
within. Only darkness and silence there. He beckoned to his comrades;
they also came on the porch. Waldmann produced a dark lantern from under
his coat; the three robbers entered Monte-Cristo's house.

"The Count's study where he keeps his money is on the second floor,"
whispered Bouche-de-Miel. "We can reach it by going up the servants'
stairway over there."

He pointed across the small corridor in which they stood. Waldmann
cautiously opened his lantern and the narrow thread of light that came
from it revealed the stairway. The miscreants mounted it and, guided by
Bouche-de-Miel, who seemed to be thoroughly familiar with the
topography of the mansion, were soon in front of Monte-Cristo's study.
The door was ajar. Bouche-de-Miel glanced in, but instantly withdrew his
head, motioning Waldmann and Siebecker to look. They did so, and saw a
man asleep in an arm-chair; simultaneously a sharp click in the room
alarmed them; they clenched their teeth, set their lips firmly together
and drew their pistols. The sharp click was repeated, followed in rapid
succession by several others. It was the telegraphic instrument--the
news from Berlin had come!

Instantly the Count was wide awake. He leaped from his chair and ran to
the instrument, to the clicking of which he eagerly and intently
listened. The vast society of Prussian patriots had met. The delegates
had been long in arriving, for, although the utmost secrecy had been
used, the royal police had got wind of their presence in the capital and
of the proposed assemblage. Still, it was hoped that the meeting would
not be disturbed, as the rendezvous was in a secluded locality, of
which, it was thought, the authorities were not suspicious. Scarcely,
however, had the president taken his seat when the police poured in
through every door and window. All the patriots were arrested, save
Monte-Cristo's confederate, who by a lucky chance succeeded in deceiving
the myrmidons of the law.

The Count's brow clouded as he heard this startling intelligence ticked
off by the telegraphic instrument. He put his hand to his forehead at
the conclusion of the ominous message and staggered l