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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 543/1279
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"
Nothing
.
"
"
And
yet
you
spoke
of
him
at
once
.
"
"
Ah
,
in
such
a
case
one
supposes
"
--
"
Sister
,
sister
,
"
said
Maximilian
,
coming
to
the
count
's
aid
,
"
monsieur
is
quite
right
.
Recollect
what
our
excellent
father
so
often
told
us
,
'
It
was
no
Englishman
that
thus
saved
us
.
'
"
Monte
Cristo
started
.
"
What
did
your
father
tell
you
,
M.
Morrel
?
"
said
he
eagerly
.
"
My
father
thought
that
this
action
had
been
miraculously
performed
--
he
believed
that
a
benefactor
had
arisen
from
the
grave
to
save
us
.
Oh
,
it
was
a
touching
superstition
,
monsieur
,
and
although
I
did
not
myself
believe
it
,
I
would
not
for
the
world
have
destroyed
my
father
's
faith
How
often
did
he
muse
over
it
and
pronounce
the
name
of
a
dear
friend
--
a
friend
lost
to
him
forever
;
and
on
his
death-bed
,
when
the
near
approach
of
eternity
seemed
to
have
illumined
his
mind
with
supernatural
light
,
this
thought
,
which
had
until
then
been
but
a
doubt
,
became
a
conviction
,
and
his
last
words
were
,
'
Maximilian
,
it
was
Edmond
Dantes
!
'
"
At
these
words
the
count
's
paleness
,
which
had
for
some
time
been
increasing
,
became
alarming
;
he
could
not
speak
;
he
looked
at
his
watch
like
a
man
who
has
forgotten
the
hour
,
said
a
few
hurried
words
to
Madame
Herbault
,
and
pressing
the
hands
of
Emmanuel
and
Maximilian
--
"
Madame
,
"
said
he
,
"
I
trust
you
will
allow
me
to
visit
you
occasionally
;
I
value
your
friendship
,
and
feel
grateful
to
you
for
your
welcome
,
for
this
is
the
first
time
for
many
years
that
I
have
thus
yielded
to
my
feelings
;
"
and
he
hastily
quitted
the
apartment
.
"
This
Count
of
Monte
Cristo
is
a
strange
man
,
"
said
Emmanuel
.
"
Yes
,
"
answered
Maximilian
,
"
but
I
feel
sure
he
has
an
excellent
heart
,
and
that
he
likes
us
.
"
"
His
voice
went
to
my
heart
,
"
observed
Julie
;
"
and
two
or
three
times
I
fancied
that
I
had
heard
it
before
.
"
About
two-thirds
of
the
way
along
the
Faubourg
Saint
--
Honore
,
and
in
the
rear
of
one
of
the
most
imposing
mansions
in
this
rich
neighborhood
,
where
the
various
houses
vie
with
each
other
for
elegance
of
design
and
magnificence
of
construction
,
extended
a
large
garden
,
where
the
wide-spreading
chestnut-trees
raised
their
heads
high
above
the
walls
in
a
solid
rampart
,
and
with
the
coming
of
every
spring
scattered
a
shower
of
delicate
pink
and
white
blossoms
into
the
large
stone
vases
that
stood
upon
the
two
square
pilasters
of
a
curiously
wrought
iron
gate
,
that
dated
from
the
time
of
Louis
XII
.
This
noble
entrance
,
however
,
in
spite
of
its
striking
appearance
and
the
graceful
effect
of
the
geraniums
planted
in
the
two
vases
,
as
they
waved
their
variegated
leaves
in
the
wind
and
charmed
the
eye
with
their
scarlet
bloom
,
had
fallen
into
utter
disuse
.
The
proprietors
of
the
mansion
had
many
years
before
thought
it
best
to
confine
themselves
to
the
possession
of
the
house
itself
,
with
its
thickly
planted
court-yard
,
opening
into
the
Faubourg
Saint
--
Honore
,
and
to
the
garden
shut
in
by
this
gate
,
which
formerly
communicated
with
a
fine
kitchen-garden
of
about
an
acre
.
For
the
demon
of
speculation
drew
a
line
,
or
in
other
words
projected
a
street
,
at
the
farther
side
of
the
kitchen-garden
.
