even looking at them. One
word led to another until a hot quarrel was in progress, the police were
called in, and Galaret was arrested.

"Give me your note," said Coucon, in the most obliging manner, "I will
see that it is delivered."

And he dashed out of the shop with suspicious alacrity. "You are a fool,
Coucon," he said to himself, "if you don't manage to deliver your own
note at the same time!"

Our readers must not suppose that Coucon was so simple as to think of
penetrating the Laisangy salons, even with the note he had obtained in
so abominable a manner from his friend. The plan he had devised was more
audacious and more sure. Ten minutes later the former Zouave entered the
shop of a costumer in the Rue de Peletere. And in five minutes more he
sallied forth a magnificent Bedouin, draped in white and wearing an
enormous turban. He called out to the astonished coachman:

"Rue de Rivoli! and drive fast!"

CHAPTER LXIII.

CARMEN KEEPS HER WORD.

"I will watch the enemy," Carmen had said to Goutran, when they parted.
The enemy was the man who had taken advantage of her inexperience, and
induced her to call him father. Why had she not realized what she was
doing sooner? She had, however, shown her womanly courage by the
confession she had made to Goutran, and now she found herself without
shield or buckler in opposition to the man under whose roof she lived.
She resolved to defend Goutran and all those he loved. Woe to whomsoever
should attack them.

That same morning, Laisangy asked to be received by her. She was quite
ready for another quarrel, but Laisangy was amiable and smiling, for he
had at that moment heard from Benedetto that his vengeance was near
being accomplished.

Strangely enough this man Laisangy was in deadly terror of Monte-Cristo,
and fully estimated the almost superhuman power of this wonderful man.
But when Benedetto appeared before him and he found that there was one
villain greater than himself, he was encouraged and comforted. What joy
it would be to torture, without danger to himself, the soul of him whom
he had so feared.

Danglars had given himself, soul and body, to Benedetto, as in legends a
man abandons himself to a demon. He smiled as he entered Carmen's room.

"What do you want of me?" she said, coldly.

"You have not forgotten that we give a grand reception this evening."

"This evening! Surely you mistake--"

"No. This is your own list of invitations that I h