midnight
Several times he sought to open communication with his confederate in the Prussian capital , but his signals were unanswered . At last he paused wearily in his walk , throwing himself in a huge arm-chair ; fatigue weighed upon his eyelids and he speedily sank into an uneasy , broken sleep , from which he started at intervals , disturbed by some vague , disquieting dream . Ever and anon , as he dozed , that smile that made him so handsome would steal over his manly countenance , bringing out into bold relief all his wonderful nobility and benevolence of expression . As midnight struck in every clock-tower in Paris , the usual solitude of the Rue du Helder at that dead hour was broken by the appearance of a sinister figure at the little gate of Monte-Cristo 's garden . This figure was almost instantly followed by another hardly less forbidding . Both wore masks and moved as stealthily as cats . The second figure addressed the first , speaking in a cautious whisper : `` Bouche-de-Miel , is that you ? ''