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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 732/849
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A
black
point
floated
on
the
sea
.
That
was
the
sloop
.
While
the
boat
was
advancing
with
all
the
speed
its
four
rowers
could
give
it
,
Felton
untied
the
cord
and
then
the
handkerchief
which
bound
Milady
's
hands
together
.
When
her
hands
were
loosed
he
took
some
sea
water
and
sprinkled
it
over
her
face
.
Milady
breathed
a
sigh
,
and
opened
her
eyes
.
"
Where
am
I
?
"
said
she
.
"
Saved
!
"
replied
the
young
officer
.
"
Oh
,
saved
,
saved
!
"
cried
she
.
"
Yes
,
there
is
the
sky
;
here
is
the
sea
!
The
air
I
breathe
is
the
air
of
liberty
!
Ah
,
thanks
,
Felton
,
thanks
!
"
The
young
man
pressed
her
to
his
heart
.
"
But
what
is
the
matter
with
my
hands
!
"
asked
Milady
;
"
it
seems
as
if
my
wrists
had
been
crushed
in
a
vice
.
"
Milady
held
out
her
arms
;
her
wrists
were
bruised
.
"
Alas
!
"
said
Felton
,
looking
at
those
beautiful
hands
,
and
shaking
his
head
sorrowfully
.
