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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 101/1279
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"
I
have
not
quitted
you
since
yesterday
,
"
returned
Fernand
sorrowfully
.
M.
Morrel
had
not
readily
given
up
the
fight
.
He
had
learned
that
Dantes
had
been
taken
to
prison
,
and
he
had
gone
to
all
his
friends
,
and
the
influential
persons
of
the
city
;
but
the
report
was
already
in
circulation
that
Dantes
was
arrested
as
a
Bonapartist
agent
;
and
as
the
most
sanguine
looked
upon
any
attempt
of
Napoleon
to
remount
the
throne
as
impossible
,
he
met
with
nothing
but
refusal
,
and
had
returned
home
in
despair
,
declaring
that
the
matter
was
serious
and
that
nothing
more
could
be
done
.
Caderousse
was
equally
restless
and
uneasy
,
but
instead
of
seeking
,
like
M.
Morrel
,
to
aid
Dantes
,
he
had
shut
himself
up
with
two
bottles
of
black
currant
brandy
,
in
the
hope
of
drowning
reflection
.
But
he
did
not
succeed
,
and
became
too
intoxicated
to
fetch
any
more
drink
,
and
yet
not
so
intoxicated
as
to
forget
what
had
happened
With
his
elbows
on
the
table
he
sat
between
the
two
empty
bottles
,
while
spectres
danced
in
the
light
of
the
unsnuffed
candle
--
spectres
such
as
Hoffmann
strews
over
his
punch-drenched
pages
,
like
black
,
fantastic
dust
.
Danglars
alone
was
content
and
joyous
--
he
had
got
rid
of
an
enemy
and
made
his
own
situation
on
the
Pharaon
secure
.
Danglars
was
one
of
those
men
born
with
a
pen
behind
the
ear
,
and
an
inkstand
in
place
of
a
heart
.
Everything
with
him
was
multiplication
or
subtraction
.
The
life
of
a
man
was
to
him
of
far
less
value
than
a
numeral
,
especially
when
,
by
taking
it
away
,
he
could
increase
the
sum
total
of
his
own
desires
.
He
went
to
bed
at
his
usual
hour
,
and
slept
in
peace
.
Villefort
,
after
having
received
M.
de
Salvieux
'
letter
,
embraced
Renee
,
kissed
the
marquise
's
hand
,
and
shaken
that
of
the
marquis
,
started
for
Paris
along
the
Aix
road
.
Old
Dantes
was
dying
with
anxiety
to
know
what
had
become
of
Edmond
.
But
we
know
very
well
what
had
become
of
Edmond
.
We
will
leave
Villefort
on
the
road
to
Paris
,
travelling
--
thanks
to
trebled
fees
--
with
all
speed
,
and
passing
through
two
or
three
apartments
,
enter
at
the
Tuileries
the
little
room
with
the
arched
window
,
so
well
known
as
having
been
the
favorite
closet
of
Napoleon
and
Louis
XVIII.
,
and
now
of
Louis
Philippe
.
There
,
seated
before
a
walnut
table
he
had
brought
with
him
from
Hartwell
,
and
to
which
,
from
one
of
those
fancies
not
uncommon
to
great
people
,
he
was
particularly
attached
,
the
king
,
Louis
XVIII.
,
was
carelessly
listening
to
a
man
of
fifty
or
fifty-two
years
of
age
,
with
gray
hair
,
aristocratic
bearing
,
and
exceedingly
gentlemanly
attire
,
and
meanwhile
making
a
marginal
note
in
a
volume
of
Gryphius
's
rather
inaccurate
,
but
much
sought-after
,
edition
of
Horace
--
a
work
which
was
much
indebted
to
the
sagacious
observations
of
the
philosophical
monarch
.
"
You
say
,
sir
"
--
said
the
king
.
