Граф Монте-Крісто

Monsieur Bertuccio.

           Bertuccio!"criedhe,strikingalighthammerwithaplianthandleonasmallgong."Bertuccio!"Thestewardappearedatthedoor."MonsieurBertuccio,"saidthecount,"didyounevertellmethatyouhadtravelledinFrance?"

           "InsomepartsofFranceyes,excellency."

           "YouknowtheenvironsofParis,then?"

           "No,excellency,no,"returnedthesteward,withasortofnervoustrembling,whichMonteCristo,aconnoisseurinallemotions,rightlyattributedtogreatdisquietude.

           "Itisunfortunate,"returnedhe,"thatyouhavenevervisitedtheenvirons,forIwishtoseemynewpropertythisevening,andhadyougonewithme,youcouldhavegivenmesomeusefulinformation."

           "ToAuteuil!"criedBertuccio,whosecoppercomplexionbecamelivid—"IgotoAuteuil?"

           "Well,whatistheresurprisinginthat?WhenIliveatAuteuil,youmustcomethere,asyoubelongtomyservice."Bertucciohungdownhisheadbeforetheimperiouslookofhismaster,andremainedmotionless,withoutmakinganyanswer."Why,whathashappenedtoyou?areyougoingtomakemeringasecondtimeforthecarriage?"askedMonteCristo,inthesametonethatLouisXIV.pronouncedthefamous,"Ihavebeenalmostobligedtowait."Bertucciomadebutoneboundtotheante-chamber,andcriedinahoarsevoice—"Hisexcellency’shorses!"MonteCristowrotetwoorthreenotes,and,ashesealedthelast,thestewardappeared."Yourexcellency’scarriageisatthedoor,"saidhe

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