Граф Монте-Крісто

The Corsican Ogre.

           Ofcourseyoustoppedatyourfather’s?"AfeelingoffaintnesscameoverVillefort.

           "No,sire,"hereplied,"IalightedattheHoteldeMadrid,intheRuedeTournon."

           "Butyouhaveseenhim?"

           "Sire,IwentstraighttotheDucdeBlacas."

           "Butyouwillseehim,then?"

           "Ithinknot,sire."

           "Ah,Iforgot,"saidLouis,smilinginamannerwhichprovedthatallthesequestionswerenotmadewithoutamotive;"IforgotyouandM.Noirtierarenotonthebesttermspossible,andthatisanothersacrificemadetotheroyalcause,andforwhichyoushouldberecompensed."

           "Sire,thekindnessyourmajestydeignstoevincetowardsmeisarecompensewhichsofarsurpassesmyutmostambitionthatIhavenothingmoretoaskfor."

           "Nevermind,sir,wewillnotforgetyou;makeyourmindeasy.Inthemeanwhile"(thekingheredetachedthecrossoftheLegionofHonorwhichheusuallyworeoverhisbluecoat,nearthecrossofSt.Louis,abovetheorderofNotre–Dame-du-Mont–CarmelandSt.Lazare,andgaveittoVillefort)"inthemeanwhiletakethiscross."

           "Sire,"saidVillefort,"yourmajestymistakes;thisisanofficer’scross."

           "Mafoi,"saidLouisXVIII.,"takeit,suchasitis,forIhavenotthetimetoprocureyouanother.Blacas,letitbeyourcaretoseethatthebrevetismadeoutandsenttoM.deVillefort.

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