“French,” faltered the countess. “I know no other and a strange one would give me too much fright.”
“The French for me,” said the duke. “I long to repeat what the devil says, and mark if he can discourse as correctly as my friend Voltaire.”
With his head lowered, Balsamo walked over to the little parlor door which opened on the secret stairs.
“Let me shut us in so that you will be less exposed to evil influences,” he explained.
Turning pale, the countess took the duke’s arm.
Almost touching the staircase door, Balsamo stepped into the corner where the inner dwelling was located, and where Lorenza was, and in a loud voice uttered in Arabic the words, which we translate:
“My dear, do you hear? if so, ring the bell twice.”
He watched for the effect on his auditor’ faces, for they were the more touched from not understanding the speech. The bell rang twice. The countess bounded up on the sofa and the duke wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
“Since you hear me,” went on the magician in the same tongue, “push the marble knob which represents the lion’s right eye in the mantelpiece of sculpture, and a panel will open. Walk through the opening, cross my room, come down the stairs, and enter the room next where I am speaking.”
Next instant, a light rustle, like a phantom’s flight, warned Balsamo that his orders had been understood and carried out.