"What was the name of the marabout?"
"If I recollect aright it was Elak Achel, or something like it."
"Can you describe his appearance—had he bony cheeks, large, projecting ears, and a long, pointed beard?"
"Truly, I could almost believe the marshal must have seen the scamp," said Coucou, quite astonished.
"Ah, no, I only guessed at it. I know some races in the desert which correspond to the description you give. But another question: does it sound perhaps like Radjel el Achem?"
"Sapristi, that was the name! And now as we know his name, we will soon find him again," said Coucou, quite delighted.
Mercedes rose, encouraged by fresh hopes, but Monte-Cristo put his hand softly upon her arm and said:
"Mercedes, beware of being deceived. The words I have just spoken signify nothing—nothing but 'great sorcerer,' and are the general appellation of the people who operate in the south of the Algeric Sahara."
The words which Monte-Cristo quietly spoke did not fail to take effect upon Mercedes. She dropped her hands and stared sorrowfully through the window.
"Is that all you know?"—the count turned toward the Zouave.