Граф Монте-Крісто

The King’s Closet at the Tuileries.

           

           "Oh,sire,"repliedtheminister,"wehavenooccasiontoinventany;everydayourdesksareloadedwithmostcircumstantialdenunciations,comingfromhostsofpeoplewhohopeforsomereturnforserviceswhichtheyseektorender,butcannot;theytrusttofortune,andrelyuponsomeunexpectedeventinsomewaytojustifytheirpredictions."

           "Well,sir,go";saidLouisXVIII.,"andrememberthatIamwaitingforyou."

           "Iwillbutgoandreturn,sire;Ishallbebackintenminutes."

           "AndI,sire,"saidM.deBlacas,"willgoandfindmymessenger."

           "Wait,sir,wait,"saidLouisXVIII."Really,M.deBlacas,Imustchangeyourarmorialbearings;Iwillgiveyouaneaglewithoutstretchedwings,holdinginitsclawsapreywhichtriesinvaintoescape,andbearingthisdeviceTenax."

           "Sire,Ilisten,"saidDeBlacas,bitinghisnailswithimpatience.

           "Iwishtoconsultyouonthispassage,‘Mollifugiensanhelitu,’youknowitreferstoastagflyingfromawolf.Areyounotasportsmanandagreatwolf-hunter?Well,then,whatdoyouthinkofthemollianhelitu?"

           "Admirable,sire;butmymessengerislikethestagyoureferto,forhehaspostedtwohundredandtwentyleaguesinscarcelythreedays."

           "Whichisundergoinggreatfatigueandanxiety,mydearduke,whenwehaveatelegraphwhichtransmitsmessagesinthreeorfourhours,andthatwithoutgettingintheleastoutofbreath.

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