Граф Монте-Крісто

Haidee.

           AtthissignalfoursoldiersoftheSeraskerKoorshidsuddenlyappeared,andSelimfell,piercedbyfiveblows.Eachmanhadstabbedhimseparately,and,intoxicatedbytheircrime,thoughstillpalewithfear,theysoughtalloverthecaverntodiscoveriftherewasanyfearoffire,afterwhichtheyamusedthemselvesbyrollingonthebagsofgold.Atthismomentmymotherseizedmeinherarms,andhurryingnoiselesslyalongnumerousturningsandwindingsknownonlytoourselves,shearrivedataprivatestaircaseofthekiosk,wherewasasceneoffrightfultumultandconfusion.ThelowerroomswereentirelyfilledwithKoorshid’stroops;thatistosay,withourenemies.Justasmymotherwasonthepointofpushingopenasmalldoor,weheardthevoiceofthepashasoundinginaloudandthreateningtone.Mymotherappliedhereyetothecrackbetweentheboards;Iluckilyfoundasmallopeningwhichaffordedmeaviewoftheapartmentandwhatwaspassingwithin.‘Whatdoyouwant?’saidmyfathertosomepeoplewhowereholdingapaperinscribedwithcharactersofgold.‘Whatwewant,’repliedone,‘istocommunicatetoyouthewillofhishighness.Doyouseethisfirman?’‘Ido,’saidmyfather.‘Well,readit;hedemandsyourhead.’

           "Myfatheransweredwithaloudlaugh,whichwasmorefrightfulthaneventhreatswouldhavebeen,andhehadnotceasedwhentworeportsofapistolwereheard;hehadfiredthemhimself,andhadkilledtwomen.

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