Граф Монте-Кристо

The Abbe’s Chamber.

           Atlengthaslightcolortingedthelividcheeks,consciousnessreturnedtothedull,openeyeballs,afaintsighissuedfromthelips,andthesufferermadeafeebleefforttomove.

           "Heissaved!heissaved!"criedDantesinaparoxysmofdelight.

           Thesickmanwasnotyetabletospeak,buthepointedwithevidentanxietytowardsthedoor.Danteslistened,andplainlydistinguishedtheapproachingstepsofthejailer.Itwasthereforenearseveno’clock;butEdmond’sanxietyhadputallthoughtsoftimeoutofhishead.Theyoungmansprangtotheentrance,dartedthroughit,carefullydrawingthestoneovertheopening,andhurriedtohiscell.Hehadscarcelydonesobeforethedooropened,andthejailersawtheprisonerseatedasusualonthesideofhisbed.Almostbeforethekeyhadturnedinthelock,andbeforethedepartingstepsofthejailerhaddiedawayinthelongcorridorhehadtotraverse,Dantes,whoserestlessanxietyconcerninghisfriendlefthimnodesiretotouchthefoodbroughthim,hurriedbacktotheabbe’schamber,andraisingthestonebypressinghisheadagainstit,wassoonbesidethesickman’scouch.Fariahadnowfullyregainedhisconsciousness,buthestilllayhelplessandexhausted.

           "Ididnotexpecttoseeyouagain,"saidhefeebly,toDantes.

           "Andwhynot?"askedtheyoungman."Didyoufancyyourselfdying?"

           "No,Ihadnosuchidea;but,knowingthatallwasreadyforflight,Ithoughtyoumighthavemadeyourescape.

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