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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 215/1279
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"
You
see
,
"
said
the
young
man
,
with
an
air
of
sorrowful
resignation
,
to
Faria
,
"
that
God
deems
it
right
to
take
from
me
any
claim
to
merit
for
what
you
call
my
devotion
to
you
.
I
have
promised
to
remain
forever
with
you
,
and
now
I
could
not
break
my
promise
if
I
would
.
The
treasure
will
be
no
more
mine
than
yours
,
and
neither
of
us
will
quit
this
prison
.
But
my
real
treasure
is
not
that
,
my
dear
friend
,
which
awaits
me
beneath
the
sombre
rocks
of
Monte
Cristo
,
it
is
your
presence
,
our
living
together
five
or
six
hours
a
day
,
in
spite
of
our
jailers
;
it
is
the
rays
of
intelligence
you
have
elicited
from
my
brain
,
the
languages
you
have
implanted
in
my
memory
,
and
which
have
taken
root
there
with
all
their
philological
ramifications
.
These
different
sciences
that
you
have
made
so
easy
to
me
by
the
depth
of
the
knowledge
you
possess
of
them
,
and
the
clearness
of
the
principles
to
which
you
have
reduced
them
--
this
is
my
treasure
,
my
beloved
friend
,
and
with
this
you
have
made
me
rich
and
happy
.
Believe
me
,
and
take
comfort
,
this
is
better
for
me
than
tons
of
gold
and
cases
of
diamonds
,
even
were
they
not
as
problematical
as
the
clouds
we
see
in
the
morning
floating
over
the
sea
,
which
we
take
for
terra
firma
,
and
which
evaporate
and
vanish
as
we
draw
near
to
them
.
To
have
you
as
long
as
possible
near
me
,
to
hear
your
eloquent
speech
--
which
embellishes
my
mind
,
strengthens
my
soul
,
and
makes
my
whole
frame
capable
of
great
and
terrible
things
,
if
I
should
ever
be
free
--
so
fills
my
whole
existence
,
that
the
despair
to
which
I
was
just
on
the
point
of
yielding
when
I
knew
you
,
has
no
longer
any
hold
over
me
;
and
this
--
this
is
my
fortune
--
not
chimerical
,
but
actual
.
I
owe
you
my
real
good
,
my
present
happiness
;
and
all
the
sovereigns
of
the
earth
,
even
Caesar
Borgia
himself
,
could
not
deprive
me
of
this
.
"
Thus
,
if
not
actually
happy
,
yet
the
days
these
two
unfortunates
passed
together
went
quickly
.
Faria
,
who
for
so
long
a
time
had
kept
silence
as
to
the
treasure
,
now
perpetually
talked
of
it
.
As
he
had
prophesied
would
be
the
case
,
he
remained
paralyzed
in
the
right
arm
and
the
left
leg
,
and
had
given
up
all
hope
of
ever
enjoying
it
himself
.
But
he
was
continually
thinking
over
some
means
of
escape
for
his
young
companion
,
and
anticipating
the
pleasure
he
would
enjoy
.
For
fear
the
letter
might
be
some
day
lost
or
stolen
,
he
compelled
Dantes
to
learn
it
by
heart
;
and
Dantes
knew
it
from
the
first
to
the
last
word
.
Then
he
destroyed
the
second
portion
,
assured
that
if
the
first
were
seized
,
no
one
would
be
able
to
discover
its
real
meaning
.
Whole
hours
sometimes
passed
while
Faria
was
giving
instructions
to
Dantes
--
instructions
which
were
to
serve
him
when
he
was
at
liberty
.
Then
,
once
free
,
from
the
day
and
hour
and
moment
when
he
was
so
,
he
could
have
but
one
only
thought
,
which
was
,
to
gain
Monte
Cristo
by
some
means
,
and
remain
there
alone
under
some
pretext
which
would
arouse
no
suspicions
;
and
once
there
,
to
endeavor
to
find
the
wonderful
caverns
,
and
search
in
the
appointed
spot
--
the
appointed
spot
,
be
it
remembered
,
being
the
farthest
angle
in
the
second
opening
.
In
the
meanwhile
the
hours
passed
,
if
not
rapidly
,
at
least
tolerably
.
Faria
,
as
we
have
said
,
without
having
recovered
the
use
of
his
hand
and
foot
,
had
regained
all
the
clearness
of
his
understanding
,
and
had
gradually
,
besides
the
moral
instructions
we
have
detailed
,
taught
his
youthful
companion
the
patient
and
sublime
duty
of
a
prisoner
,
who
learns
to
make
something
from
nothing
.
They
were
thus
perpetually
employed
--
Faria
,
that
he
might
not
see
himself
grow
old
;
Dantes
,
for
fear
of
recalling
the
almost
extinct
past
which
now
only
floated
in
his
memory
like
a
distant
light
wandering
in
the
night
.
So
life
went
on
for
them
as
it
does
for
those
who
are
not
victims
of
misfortune
and
whose
activities
glide
along
mechanically
and
tranquilly
beneath
the
eye
of
providence
.
But
beneath
this
superficial
calm
there
were
in
the
heart
of
the
young
man
,
and
perhaps
in
that
of
the
old
man
,
many
repressed
desires
,
many
stifled
sighs
,
which
found
vent
when
Faria
was
left
alone
,
and
when
Edmond
returned
to
his
cell
.
One
night
Edmond
awoke
suddenly
,
believing
that
he
heard
some
one
calling
him
.
He
opened
his
eyes
upon
utter
darkness
.
His
name
,
or
rather
a
plaintive
voice
which
essayed
to
pronounce
his
name
,
reached
him
.
He
sat
up
in
bed
and
a
cold
sweat
broke
out
upon
his
brow
.
Undoubtedly
the
call
came
from
Faria
's
dungeon
.
"
Alas
,
"
murmured
Edmond
;
"
can
it
be
?
"
He
moved
his
bed
,
drew
up
the
stone
,
rushed
into
the
passage
,
and
reached
the
opposite
extremity
;
the
secret
entrance
was
open
.
By
the
light
of
the
wretched
and
wavering
lamp
,
of
which
we
have
spoken
,
Dantes
saw
the
old
man
,
pale
,
but
yet
erect
,
clinging
to
the
bedstead
.
His
features
were
writhing
with
those
horrible
symptoms
which
he
already
knew
,
and
which
had
so
seriously
alarmed
him
when
he
saw
them
for
the
first
time
.
"
Alas
,
my
dear
friend
,
"
said
Faria
in
a
resigned
tone
,
"
you
understand
,
do
you
not
,
and
I
need
not
attempt
to
explain
to
you
?
"