Граф Монте-Кристо

The House at Auteuil.

           "Bertucciosighed,andwentonfirst;thestairsdid,indeed,leadtothegarden.Attheouterdoorthestewardpaused."Goon,MonsieurBertuccio,"saidthecount.Buthewhowasaddressedstoodthere,stupefied,bewildered,stunned;hishaggardeyesglancedaround,asifinsearchofthetracesofsometerribleevent,andwithhisclinchedhandsheseemedstrivingtoshutouthorriblerecollections."Well,"insistedtheCount."No,no,"criedBertuccio,settingdownthelanternattheangleoftheinteriorwall."No,monsieur,itisimpossible;Icangonofarther."

           "Whatdoesthismean?"demandedtheirresistiblevoiceofMonteCristo.

           "Why,youmustsee,yourexcellency,"criedthesteward,"thatthisisnotnatural;that,havingahousetopurchase,youpurchaseitexactlyatAuteuil,andthat,purchasingitatAuteuil,thishouseshouldbeNo.28,RuedelaFontaine.Oh,whydidInottellyouall?Iamsureyouwouldnothaveforcedmetocome.Ihopedyourhousewouldhavebeensomeotheronethanthis;asiftherewasnotanotherhouseatAuteuilthanthatoftheassassination!"

           "What,what!"criedMonteCristo,stoppingsuddenly,"whatwordsdoyouutter?Devilofaman,Corsicanthatyouarealwaysmysteriesorsuperstitions.Come,takethelantern,andletusvisitthegarden;youarenotafraidofghostswithme,Ihope?"Bertuccioraisedthelantern,andobeyed.

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Страница 756 из 1932