The Count of Monte Cristo

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and carbine, and Ali, standing near him, held one of the small Arabian
hatchets, whose form has not varied since the Crusades. Through one of
the windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the dressing-room,
the count could see into the street.

Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark; still Ali, thanks to his
wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless to his long confinement,
could distinguish in the darkness the slightest movement of the trees.
The little light in the lodge had long been extinct. It might be
expected that the attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be
made from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a window; in
Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his life, not his money. It
would be his bedroom they would attack, and they must reach it by the
back staircase, or by the window in the dressing-room. The clock of
the Invalides struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on its
moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes.