Граф Монте-Крісто

At the Office of the King’s Attorney.

           

           "Listen,Hermine;Iconsidermyselfasbraveasmostmen,butwhenIdrewfrommybreastthelittlekeyofthestaircase,whichIhadfoundinmycoatthatlittlekeywebothusedtocherishsomuch,whichyouwishedtohavefastenedtoagoldenringwhenIopenedthedoor,andsawthepalemoonsheddingalongstreamofwhitelightonthespiralstaircaselikeaspectre,Ileanedagainstthewall,andnearlyshrieked.Iseemedtobegoingmad.AtlastImasteredmyagitation.Idescendedthestaircasestepbystep;theonlythingIcouldnotconquerwasastrangetremblinginmyknees.Igraspedtherailings;ifIhadrelaxedmyholdforamoment,Ishouldhavefallen.Ireachedthelowerdoor.Outsidethisdooraspadewasplacedagainstthewall;Itookit,andadvancedtowardsthethicket.Ihadprovidedmyselfwithadarklantern.InthemiddleofthelawnIstoppedtolightit,thenIcontinuedmypath.

           "ItwastheendofNovember,alltheverdureofthegardenhaddisappeared,thetreeswerenothingmorethanskeletonswiththeirlongbonyarms,andthedeadleavessoundedonthegravelundermyfeet.MyterrorovercamemetosuchadegreeasIapproachedthethicket,thatItookapistolfrommypocketandarmedmyself.IfanciedcontinuallythatIsawthefigureoftheCorsicanbetweenthebranches.Iexaminedthethicketwithmydarklantern;itwasempty.Ilookedcarefullyaround;Iwasindeedalonenonoisedisturbedthesilencebuttheowl,whosepiercingcryseemedtobecallingupthephantomsofthenight.

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