Граф Монте-Кристо

The Fifth of October.

           "IsthatMonteCristo?"askedthetraveller,towhoseorderstheyachtwasforthetimesubmitted,inamelancholyvoice.

           "Yes,yourexcellency,"saidthecaptain,"wehavereachedit."

           "Wehavereachedit!"repeatedthetravellerinanaccentofindescribablesadness.Thenheadded,inalowtone,"Yes;thatisthehaven."Andthenheagainplungedintoatrainofthought,thecharacterofwhichwasbetterrevealedbyasadsmile,thanitwouldhavebeenbytears.Afewminutesafterwardsaflashoflight,whichwasextinguishedinstantly,wasseenontheland,andthesoundoffirearmsreachedtheyacht.

           "Yourexcellency,"saidthecaptain,"thatwasthelandsignal,willyouansweryourself?"

           "Whatsignal?"Thecaptainpointedtowardstheisland,upthesideofwhichascendedavolumeofsmoke,increasingasitrose."Ah,yes,"hesaid,asifawakingfromadream."Giveittome."

           Thecaptaingavehimaloadedcarbine;thetravellerslowlyraisedit,andfiredintheair.Tenminutesafterwards,thesailswerefurled,andtheycastanchoraboutahundredfathomsfromthelittleharbor.Thegigwasalreadylowered,andinitwerefouroarsmenandacoxswain.Thetravellerdescended,andinsteadofsittingdownatthesternoftheboat,whichhadbeendecoratedwithabluecarpetforhisaccommodation,stoodupwithhisarmscrossed.Therowerswaited,theiroarshalfliftedoutofthewater,likebirdsdryingtheirwings.

           "Giveway,"saidthetraveller.

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Roboto Lora
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Страница 1914 из 1932