f French financiers, always cherished the
project of making Algeria into a veritable El Dorado, and had now come
to France to lend the support of his name and authority to some one of
the speculations built on the sands of the desert, of which the
Tuileries people were so fond.

Laisangy, learning of his arrival in Paris, had hastened to send him an
invitation, but had hardly hoped to see him. He was, therefore, more
than usually civil.

Ben-Omar replied to his courtesies only by carrying his hand to his
heart and then to his forehead, in the recognized Mussulman manner. He
did not speak one word of French, and yet, when Carmen passed, he said
"Beautiful!" with a guttural intonation.

"My daughter, sir!" answered the banker, with pride.

"Beautiful! beautiful!" repeated the Mohammedan.

Laisangy signed to Omar to accompany him to the group where Carmen was
talking. There he went through the ceremony of introduction. Then,
leaning toward her, Omar said, under his breath:

"I come from Goutran. Allah il Allah!" he added, aloud.

Carmen started. Never was she so astonished. The name of Goutran from
these lips was like lightning from a clear sky. She looked at the Arab's
bronze face and his huge moustache.

"Take His Excellency's arm," said Laisangy, "and show him the gallery
and statuary."

Carmen hesitated, but Omar at once threw his bournous aside and offered
the young lady his arm.

Laisangy whispered in Carmen's ear:

"Do not delay too long. I have received the signal and must do what was
agreed upon between us."

Carmen paid little heed to these words, but moved through the crowd on
Omar's arm, slowly and thoughtfully. Omar was very solemn, but under his
moustache he whispered:

"I come from Monsieur Goutran."

"Who are you?" she asked, raising her fan to hide her lips as she spoke.

Whenever the crowd came too near he raised his arm, and with a grand
sweep of bournous, hand and arm, he said:

"Allah il Allah! Rassoul il Allah!"

Everybody drew back much impressed, for the incomprehensible has always
great power.

At last, Omar and Carmen were alone in a small salon.

"Will you tell me who you are?" asked Carmen once again.

"I am Coucon--devoted to Monsieur Goutran and to Esperance, the son of
Monte-Cristo."

"And you disguised yourself to see me?"

"Yes, for I had a note to bring from Monsieur Goutran."

"Give it to me!" Carmen cried.

When at last Coucon succeeded in finding it among