-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Александр Дюма
-
- Черный тюльпан
-
- Стр. 115/292
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Van
Baerle
's
nurse
had
received
the
letter
in
the
following
way
.
Leaving
Dort
,
Mynheer
Isaac
Boxtel
had
abandoned
,
not
only
his
house
,
his
servants
,
his
observatory
,
and
his
telescope
,
but
also
his
pigeons
.
The
servant
,
having
been
left
without
wages
,
first
lived
on
his
little
savings
,
and
then
on
his
master
's
pigeons
.
Seeing
this
,
the
pigeons
emigrated
from
the
roof
of
Isaac
Boxtel
to
that
of
Cornelius
van
Baerle
.
The
nurse
was
a
kind-hearted
woman
,
who
could
not
live
without
something
to
love
.
She
conceived
an
affection
for
the
pigeons
which
had
thrown
themselves
on
her
hospitality
;
and
when
Boxtel
's
servant
reclaimed
them
with
culinary
intentions
,
having
eaten
the
first
fifteen
already
,
and
now
wishing
to
eat
the
other
fifteen
,
she
offered
to
buy
them
from
him
for
a
consideration
of
six
stivers
per
head
.
This
being
just
double
their
value
,
the
man
was
very
glad
to
close
the
bargain
,
and
the
nurse
found
herself
in
undisputed
possession
of
the
pigeons
of
her
master
's
envious
neighbour
.
In
the
course
of
their
wanderings
,
these
pigeons
with
others
visited
the
Hague
,
Loewestein
,
and
Rotterdam
,
seeking
variety
,
doubtless
,
in
the
flavour
of
their
wheat
or
hempseed
.
Chance
,
or
rather
God
,
for
we
can
see
the
hand
of
God
in
everything
,
had
willed
that
Cornelius
van
Baerle
should
happen
to
hit
upon
one
of
these
very
pigeons
.
Therefore
,
if
the
envious
wretch
had
not
left
Dort
to
follow
his
rival
to
the
Hague
in
the
first
place
,
and
then
to
Gorcum
or
to
Loewestein
,
--
for
the
two
places
are
separated
only
by
the
confluence
of
the
Waal
and
the
Meuse
,
--
Van
Baerle
's
letter
would
have
fallen
into
his
hands
and
not
the
nurse
's
:
in
which
event
the
poor
prisoner
,
like
the
raven
of
the
Roman
cobbler
,
would
have
thrown
away
his
time
,
his
trouble
,
and
,
instead
of
having
to
relate
the
series
of
exciting
events
which
are
about
to
flow
from
beneath
our
pen
like
the
varied
hues
of
a
many
coloured
tapestry
,
we
should
have
naught
to
describe
but
a
weary
waste
of
days
,
dull
and
melancholy
and
gloomy
as
night
's
dark
mantle
.
The
note
,
as
we
have
said
,
had
reached
Van
Baerle
's
nurse
.
