Граф Монте-Крісто

The Vendetta.

           InasecondIhaddisinterredthebox;then,thatitmightnotbeknownIhaddoneso,Ifilledupthehole,threwthespadeoverthewall,andrushedthroughthedoor,whichIdouble-locked,carryingoffthekey."

           "Ah,"saidMonteCristo"itseemstomethiswasnothingbutmurderandrobbery."

           "No,yourexcellency,"returnedBertuccio;"itwasavendettafollowedbyrestitution."

           "Andwasthesumalargeone?"

           "Itwasnotmoney."

           "Ah,Irecollect,"repliedthecount;"didyounotsaysomethingofaninfant?"

           "Yes,excellency;Ihastenedtotheriver,satdownonthebank,andwithmyknifeforcedopenthelockofthebox.Inafinelinenclothwaswrappedanew-bornchild.Itspurplevisage,anditsviolet-coloredhandsshowedthatithadperishedfromsuffocation,butasitwasnotyetcold,Ihesitatedtothrowitintothewaterthatranatmyfeet.AfteramomentIfanciedthatIfeltaslightpulsationoftheheart,andasIhadbeenassistantatthehospitalatBastia,IdidwhatadoctorwouldhavedoneIinflatedthelungsbyblowingairintothem,andattheexpirationofaquarterofanhour,itbegantobreathe,andcriedfeebly.InmyturnIutteredacry,butacryofjoy.‘Godhasnotcursedmethen,’Icried,‘sincehepermitsmetosavethelifeofahumancreature,inexchangeforthelifeIhavetakenaway.’"

           "Andwhatdidyoudowiththechild?"askedMonteCristo.

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