Граф Монте-Кристо

The Dappled Grays.

           "Thewomanlookedupatthesewords,and,withaglancefarmoreexpressivethananyentreatiescouldhavebeen,pointedtoherchild,whostillcontinuedinsensible."Iunderstandthenatureofyouralarms,madame,"saidthecount,carefullyexaminingthechild,"butIassureyouthereisnottheslightestoccasionforuneasiness;yourlittlechargehasnotreceivedtheleastinjury;hisinsensibilityismerelytheeffectsofterror,andwillsoonpass."

           "Areyouquitesureyoudonotsaysototranquillizemyfears?Seehowdeadlypaleheis!Mychild,mydarlingEdward;speaktoyourmotheropenyourdeareyesandlookonmeonceagain!Oh,sir,inpitysendforaphysician;mywholefortuneshallnotbethoughttoomuchfortherecoveryofmyboy."

           Withacalmsmileandagentlewaveofthehand,MonteCristosignedtothedistractedmothertolayasideherapprehensions;then,openingacasketthatstoodnear,hedrewforthaphialofBohemianglassincrustedwithgold,containingaliquidofthecolorofblood,ofwhichheletfallasingledroponthechild’slips.Scarcelyhaditreachedthem,eretheboy,thoughstillpaleasmarble,openedhiseyes,andeagerlygazedaroundhim.Atthis,thedelightofthemotherwasalmostfrantic.

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