Граф Монте-Крісто

The Breakfast.

           

           "DoesanyoneknowanythingofaCountofMonteCristo?"

           "HecomespossiblyfromtheHolyLand,andoneofhisancestorspossessedCalvary,astheMortemartsdidtheDeadSea."

           "IthinkIcanassistyourresearches,"saidMaximilian."MonteCristoisalittleislandIhaveoftenheardspokenofbytheoldsailorsmyfatheremployedagrainofsandinthecentreoftheMediterranean,anatomintheinfinite."

           "Precisely!"criedAlbert."Well,heofwhomIspeakisthelordandmasterofthisgrainofsand,ofthisatom;hehaspurchasedthetitleofcountsomewhereinTuscany."

           "Heisrich,then?"

           "Ibelieveso."

           "Butthatoughttobevisible."

           "Thatiswhatdeceivesyou,Debray."

           "Idonotunderstandyou."

           "Haveyoureadthe‘ArabianNights’?"

           "Whataquestion!"

           "Well,doyouknowifthepersonsyouseetherearerichorpoor,iftheirsacksofwheatarenotrubiesordiamonds?Theyseemlikepoorfishermen,andsuddenlytheyopensomemysteriouscavernfilledwiththewealthoftheIndies."

           "Whichmeans?"

           "WhichmeansthatmyCountofMonteCristoisoneofthosefishermen.Hehasevenanametakenfromthebook,sincehecallshimselfSinbadtheSailor,andhasacavefilledwithgold."

           "Andyouhaveseenthiscavern,Morcerf?"askedBeauchamp.

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