Граф Монте-Крісто

At the Office of the King’s Attorney.

           ItiedmylanterntoaforkedbranchIhadnoticedayearbeforeattheprecisespotwhereIstoppedtodigthehole.

           "Thegrasshadgrownverythicklythereduringthesummer,andwhenautumnarrivednoonehadbeentheretomowit.Stilloneplacewherethegrasswasthinattractedmyattention;itevidentlywasthereIhadturneduptheground.Iwenttowork.Thehour,then,forwhichIhadbeenwaitingduringthelastyearhadatlengtharrived.HowIworked,howIhoped,howIstruckeverypieceofturf,thinkingtofindsomeresistancetomyspade!Butno,Ifoundnothing,thoughIhadmadeaholetwiceaslargeasthefirst.IthoughtIhadbeendeceivedhadmistakenthespot.Iturnedaround,Ilookedatthetrees,Itriedtorecallthedetailswhichhadstruckmeatthetime.Acold,sharpwindwhistledthroughtheleaflessbranches,andyetthedropsfellfrommyforehead.IrecollectedthatIwasstabbedjustasIwastramplingthegroundtofillupthehole;whiledoingsoIhadleanedagainstalaburnum;behindmewasanartificialrockery,intendedtoserveasaresting-placeforpersonswalkinginthegarden;infalling,myhand,relaxingitsholdofthelaburnum,feltthecoldnessofthestone.OnmyrightIsawthetree,behindmetherock.Istoodinthesameattitude,andthrewmyselfdown.Irose,andagainbegandiggingandenlargingthehole;stillIfoundnothing,nothingthechestwasnolongerthere!"

           "Thechestnolongerthere?"murmuredMadameDanglars,chokingwithfear.

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