Граф Монте-Крісто

Marseilles — The Arrival.

           

           Thevaguedisquietudewhichprevailedamongthespectatorshadsomuchaffectedoneofthecrowdthathedidnotawaitthearrivalofthevesselinharbor,butjumpingintoasmallskiff,desiredtobepulledalongsidethePharaon,whichhereachedassheroundedintoLaReservebasin.

           Whentheyoungmanonboardsawthispersonapproach,helefthisstationbythepilot,and,hatinhand,leanedovertheship’sbulwarks.

           Hewasafine,tall,slimyoungfellowofeighteenortwenty,withblackeyes,andhairasdarkasaraven’swing;andhiswholeappearancebespokethatcalmnessandresolutionpeculiartomenaccustomedfromtheircradletocontendwithdanger.

           "Ah,isityou,Dantes?"criedthemanintheskiff."What’sthematter?andwhyhaveyousuchanairofsadnessaboard?"

           "Agreatmisfortune,M.Morrel,"repliedtheyoungman"agreatmisfortune,formeespecially!OffCivitaVecchiawelostourbraveCaptainLeclere."

           "Andthecargo?"inquiredtheowner,eagerly.

           "Isallsafe,M.Morrel;andIthinkyouwillbesatisfiedonthathead.ButpoorCaptainLeclere—"

           "Whathappenedtohim?"askedtheowner,withanairofconsiderableresignation."Whathappenedtotheworthycaptain?"

           "Hedied."

           "Fellintothesea?"

           "No,sir,hediedofbrain-feverindreadfulagony.

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