Граф Монте-Кристо

The Cemetery of the Chateau D’If.

           

           "Theysayeveryyearaddshalfapoundtotheweightofthebones,"saidanother,liftingthefeet.

           "Haveyoutiedtheknot?"inquiredthefirstspeaker.

           "Whatwouldbetheuseofcarryingsomuchmoreweight?"wasthereply,"Icandothatwhenwegetthere."

           "Yes,you’reright,"repliedthecompanion.

           "What’stheknotfor?"thoughtDantes.

           Theydepositedthesupposedcorpseonthebier.Edmondstiffenedhimselfinordertoplaythepartofadeadman,andthentheparty,lightedbythemanwiththetorch,whowentfirst,ascendedthestairs.Suddenlyhefeltthefreshandsharpnightair,andDantesknewthatthemistralwasblowing.Itwasasensationinwhichpleasureandpainwerestrangelymingled.Thebearerswentonfortwentypaces,thenstopped,puttingthebierdownontheground.Oneofthemwentaway,andDantesheardhisshoesstrikingonthepavement.

           "WhereamI?"heaskedhimself.

           "Really,heisbynomeansalightload!"saidtheotherbearer,sittingontheedgeofthehand-barrow.Dantes’firstimpulsewastoescape,butfortunatelyhedidnotattemptit.

           "Giveusalight,"saidtheotherbearer,"orIshallneverfindwhatIamlookingfor."Themanwiththetorchcomplied,althoughnotaskedinthemostpoliteterms.

           "Whatcanhebelookingfor?"thoughtEdmond."Thespade,perhaps.

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