Граф Монте-Кристо

Haidee.

           Oh,howdistinctlyIrememberthatkiss!itwasthelastheevergaveme,andIfeelasifitwerestillwarmonmyforehead.Ondescending,wesawthroughthelattice-workseveralboatswhichweregraduallybecomingmoredistincttoourview.Atfirsttheyappearedlikeblackspecks,andnowtheylookedlikebirdsskimmingthesurfaceofthewaves.Duringthistime,inthekioskatmyfather’sfeet,wereseatedtwentyPalikares,concealedfromviewbyanangleofthewallandwatchingwitheagereyesthearrivaloftheboats.Theywerearmedwiththeirlonggunsinlaidwithmother-of-pearlandsilver,andcartridgesingreatnumberswerelyingscatteredonthefloor.Myfatherlookedathiswatch,andpacedupanddownwithacountenanceexpressiveofthegreatestanguish.ThiswasthescenewhichpresenteditselftomyviewasIquittedmyfatherafterthatlastkiss.MymotherandItraversedthegloomypassageleadingtothecavern.Selimwasstillathispost,andsmiledsadlyonusasweentered.Wefetchedourcushionsfromtheotherendofthecavern,andsatdownbySelim.Ingreatdangersthedevotedonesclingtoeachother;and,youngasIwas,Iquiteunderstoodthatsomeimminentdangerwashangingoverourheads.

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