The Count of Monte Cristo didn't leave Paris yet. Instead, he set out the following morning, heading south toward the city of Orléans. His destination wasn't the city itself, but a specific location along the way, a telegraph tower perched on the highest point of a flat plain.
Back in those days, before phones or internet, telegraph towers were how important messages traveled across the country. Men stationed in towers would move mechanical arms in coded patterns, and the next tower down the line would copy those signals, passing messages from city to city at remarkable speed.
The Count dismounted at the base of a hill and climbed a narrow, winding path. At the summit, a hedge blocked his way, its branches heavy with green fruit where flowers had bloomed earlier in the season. He found a crude wooden gate held shut by nothing more than a nail and string, pushed it open, and stepped into a tiny garden.
