The Count of Monte Cristo

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after a moment's reflection, 'Yes, go, Florentin,' said she, 'and may he
come quickly.'"

"Yes, my mother," said Albert, "I will return, and woe to the infamous
wretch! But first of all I must get there."

He went back to the room where he had left Monte Cristo. Five minutes
had sufficed to make a complete transformation in his appearance. His
voice had become rough and hoarse; his face was furrowed with wrinkles;
his eyes burned under the blue-veined lids, and he tottered like a
drunken man. "Count," said he, "I thank you for your hospitality, which
I would gladly have enjoyed longer; but I must return to Paris."

"What has happened?"

"A great misfortune, more important to me than life. Don't question me,
I beg of you, but lend me a horse."