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Updated: June 18, 2025
Their cigarettes were now consumed. Albert, in pursuance of his scheme, invited Bouche-de-Miel and Mange to take seats at a table and have some more brandy. They accepted the invitation with alacrity, and the three were soon drinking and chatting. Repeated potations finally opened Bouche-de-Miel's lips; he began to be confidential.
"Do you allow a woman to stand between you and your vengeance against the Count of Monte-Cristo? Remember Luigi Vampa's bill of fare!" Bouche-de-Miel glared at the Italian savagely. "There is no need for me to remember it," returned he, bitterly. "I have never forgotten it. Neither have I forgotten your share in that infamous business!" he added, between his teeth.
Bouche-de-Miel did not hear Morcerf's groan; his misty eyes were fixed upon space, seemed to be peering into the depths and recesses of the distant past. The Captain judged that the time had come to draw the final, the crowning admission from his lips. He touched him lightly on the arm. The man turned and glanced at him inquiringly.
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, Bouche-de-Miel?"
The two Germans awoke, sprang from their bench and advanced towards the table. Mange uttered a groan of despair. He could do nothing now to avert the impending danger. Bouche-de-Miel had leaped to his feet and grappled with Albert de Morcerf.
He imparted his discovery and conclusion to his employer, together with the intelligence that the men were in the habit of congregating in the little caboulot of the Cité d' Antin. Albert rewarded Mange liberally for his zeal and promised him a very much larger sum should Bouche-de-Miel turn out to be his man.
Siebecker noticed his agitation and gave vent to a smothered curse. "Sacré 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.
"It amounts to so much that I cannot go with you to Monte-Cristo's house and run the risk of meeting that woman!" Waldmann gave vent to a loud laugh; the others smiled. "I never before heard of a Frenchman who was afraid to meet a woman!" said Siebecker, much amused. "I tell you I cannot go; you must let me off," said Bouche-de-Miel, obstinately. "What!" cried Peppino.
"I will accompany you, mates!" he said, with wildly flashing eyes and in an excited voice. "Monte-Cristo robbed me, ruined me and drove me into the world a penniless vagrant! I will have my revenge!" "Spoken like a hero!" said Waldmann, enthusiastically. "We will meet at the little gate on the Rue du Helder at midnight. Siebecker will give you the key, Bouche-de-Miel, and you will open the gate.
"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.
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