A sneaking kind of knock—something more than a single one, not so much as a double one, and by no means as bold as a postman's—had been heard the moment before the bailiff uttered these last words; and while he went in person to inform his acolyte that the caption was made, and that he might wait in the hall, the count endeavoured to soothe and console the two afflicted ladies who now clung to him in the most impassioned and distracted manner.
"To-morrow, my dear father—to-morrow, the moment the clock strikes ten, we will be with you," said Isabella. "Oh! how miserably will pass the hours until that period!"
"Will you not now permit me, my dearest husband, to see the Envoy of Castelcicala, and—"
"No," answered the count firmly. "Did we not agree ere now to support with resignation all that fortune might have in store for us?"
"Ah! pardon me—I forgot," said the countess. "I am overwhelmed with grief. Oh! what a blow—and for you!"
"Show yourselves worthy of your high rank and proud name," cried the nobleman; "and all will yet be well."
At this moment the bailiff returned to the room.
"I am now ready to accompany you," said the count.
"So much the better," cried Mr. Johnson. "Me and my man Tim Bunkins come down in a omnibus; I don't know which vay you'd like to go, but I've heerd say you keeps a wery tidy cabrioily."
"It would be a monstrous mockery for any one to proceed to a prison in his own luxurious vehicle," said the count sternly. "As you came, so may you return. I will accompany you in an omnibus."