Граф Монте-Крісто

The Fifth of September.

           Heheardthedoorofthestaircasecreakonitshingestheclockgaveitswarningtostrikeeleventhedoorofhisstudyopened;MorreldidnotturnroundheexpectedthesewordsofCocles,"TheagentofThomson&French."

           Heplacedthemuzzleofthepistolbetweenhisteeth.Suddenlyheheardacryitwashisdaughter’svoice.HeturnedandsawJulie.Thepistolfellfromhishands."Myfather!"criedtheyounggirl,outofbreath,andhalfdeadwithjoy—"saved,youaresaved!"Andshethrewherselfintohisarms,holdinginherextendedhandared,nettedsilkpurse.

           "Saved,mychild!"saidMorrel;"whatdoyoumean?"

           "Yes,savedsaved!See,see!"saidtheyounggirl.

           Morreltookthepurse,andstartedashedidso,foravagueremembranceremindedhimthatitoncebelongedtohimself.Atoneendwasthereceiptedbillforthe287,000francs,andattheotherwasadiamondaslargeasahazel-nut,withthesewordsonasmallslipofparchment:—Julie’sDowry.

           Morrelpassedhishandoverhisbrow;itseemedtohimadream.Atthismomenttheclockstruckeleven.Hefeltasifeachstrokeofthehammerfelluponhisheart."Explain,mychild,"hesaid,"Explain,mychild,"hesaid,"explainwheredidyoufindthispurse?"

           "InahouseintheAlleesdeMeillan,No.15,onthecornerofamantelpieceinasmallroomonthefifthfloor.

Зміст книги
Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 456 з 1932