“Faith, I should require pen, ink, and paper to make a plan.”
“They are all here,” said Caderousse, briskly. He fetched from an old secretaire a sheet of white paper and pen and ink. “Here,” said Caderousse, “draw me all that on the paper, my boy.”
Andrea took the pen with an imperceptible smile and began.
“The house, as I said, is between the court and the garden; in this way, do you see?” Andrea drew the garden, the court and the house.
“High walls?”
“Not more than eight or ten feet.”
“That is not prudent,” said Caderousse.
“In the court are orange-trees in pots, turf, and clumps of flowers.”
“And no steel-traps?”
“No.”
“The stables?”
“Are on either side of the gate, which you see there.” And Andrea continued his plan.
“Let us see the ground floor,” said Caderousse.
“On the ground floor, dining-room, two drawing-rooms, billiard-room, staircase in the hall, and a little back staircase.”
“Windows?”
“Magnificent windows, so beautiful, so large, that I believe a man of your size should pass through each frame.”
“Why the devil have they any stairs with such windows?”
“Luxury has everything.”
“But shutters?”
“Yes, but they are never used. That Count of Monte Cristo is an original, who loves to look at the sky even at night.”
“And where do the servants sleep?”
“Oh, they have a house to themselves. Picture to yourself a pretty coach-house at the right-hand side where the ladders are kept. Well, over that coach-house are the servants’ rooms, with bells corresponding with the different apartments.”