Граф Монте-Кристо

The Lions’ Den.

           "

           "Oh,theChampsElysees?Ah,yes;weburn,astheysayatthegameofpincette.TheChampsElysees?Come,letustalkalittleaboutmyfather."

           "Who,then,amI?"

           "You,sir?youaremyadoptedfather.Butitwasnotyou,Ipresume,whoplacedatmydisposal100,000francs,whichIspentinfourorfivemonths;itwasnotyouwhomanufacturedanItaliangentlemanformyfather;itwasnotyouwhointroducedmeintotheworld,andhadmeinvitedtoacertaindinneratAuteuil,whichIfancyIameatingatthismoment,incompanywiththemostdistinguishedpeopleinParisamongsttherestwithacertainprocureur,whoseacquaintanceIdidverywrongnottocultivate,forhewouldhavebeenveryusefultomejustnow;itwasnotyou,infact,whobailedmeforoneortwomillions,whenthefataldiscoveryofmylittlesecrettookplace.Come,speak,myworthyCorsican,speak!"

           "Whatdoyouwishmetosay?"

           "Iwillhelpyou.YouwerespeakingoftheChampsElyseesjustnow,worthyfoster-father."

           "Well?"

           "Well,intheChampsElyseesthereresidesaveryrichgentleman."

           "Atwhosehouseyourobbedandmurdered,didyounot?"

           "IbelieveIdid."

           "TheCountofMonteCristo?"

           "’Tisyouwhohavenamedhim,asM.Racinesays.Well,amItorushintohisarms,andstrainhimtomyheart,crying,‘Myfather,myfather!’likeMonsieurPixerecourt.

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