Граф Монте-Крісто

The Pont du Gard Inn.

           PoorEdmond,hewascruellydeceived;butitwasfortunatethatheneverknew,orhemighthavefounditmoredifficult,whenonhisdeathbed,topardonhisenemies.And,whateverpeoplemaysay,"continuedCaderousse,inhisnativelanguage,whichwasnotaltogetherdevoidofrudepoetry,"Icannothelpbeingmorefrightenedattheideaofthemaledictionofthedeadthanthehatredoftheliving."

           "Imbecile!"exclaimedLaCarconte.

           "Doyou,then,knowinwhatmannerFernandinjuredDantes?"inquiredtheabbeofCaderousse.

           "DoI?Noonebetter."

           "Speakoutthen,saywhatitwas!"

           "Gaspard!"criedLaCarconte,"doasyouwill;youaremasterbutifyoutakemyadviceyou’llholdyourtongue."

           "Well,wife,"repliedCaderousse,"Idon’tknowbutwhatyou’reright!"

           "Soyouwillsaynothing?"askedtheabbe.

           "Why,whatgoodwoulditdo?"askedCaderousse."Ifthepoorladwereliving,andcametomeandbeggedthatIwouldcandidlytellwhichwerehistrueandwhichhisfalsefriends,why,perhaps,Ishouldnothesitate.Butyoutellmeheisnomore,andthereforecanhavenothingtodowithhatredorrevenge,soletallsuchfeelingbeburiedwithhim."

           "Youprefer,then,"saidtheabbe,"thatIshouldbestowonmenyousayarefalseandtreacherous,therewardintendedforfaithfulfriendship?"

           "Thatistrueenough,"returnedCaderousse.

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