Граф Монте-Кристо

Haidee.

           ThePalikares,whowereprostratedatmyfather’sfeet,nowsprangupandfired,andtheroomwasfilledwithfireandsmoke.Atthesameinstantthefiringbeganontheotherside,andtheballspenetratedtheboardsallroundus.Oh,hownobledidthegrandviziermyfatherlookatthatmoment,inthemidstoftheflyingbullets,hisscimitarinhishand,andhisfaceblackenedwiththepowderofhisenemies!andhowheterrifiedthem,eventhen,andmadethemflybeforehim!‘Selim,Selim!’criedhe,‘guardianofthefire,doyourduty!’—‘Selimisdead,’repliedavoicewhichseemedtocomefromthedepthsoftheearth,‘andyouarelost,Ali!’Atthesamemomentanexplosionwasheard,andtheflooringoftheroominwhichmyfatherwassittingwassuddenlytornupandshiveredtoatomsthetroopswerefiringfromunderneath.ThreeorfourPalikaresfellwiththeirbodiesliterallyploughedwithwounds.

           "Myfatherhowledaloud,plungedhisfingersintotheholeswhichtheballshadmade,andtoreuponeoftheplanksentire.Butimmediatelythroughthisopeningtwentymoreshotswerefired,andtheflame,rushinguplikefirefromthecraterofavolcano,soonreachedthetapestry,whichitquicklydevoured.Inthemidstofallthisfrightfultumultandtheseterrificcries,tworeports,fearfullydistinct,followedbytwoshrieksmoreheartrendingthanall,frozemewithterror.Thesetwoshotshadmortallywoundedmyfather,anditwashewhohadgivenutterancetothesefrightfulcries.

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