Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 1, 2025
Bertuccio, crouched in the corner of the carriage, began to examine with a feverish anxiety every house they passed. "Tell them to stop at Rue de la Fontaine, No. 28," said the count, fixing his eyes on the steward, to whom he gave this order.
"Do not let us jest," gravely replied Bertuccio, "and dare not to utter that name again as you have pronounced it." "Bah," said Andrea, a little overcome, by the solemnity of Bertuccio's manner, "why not?" "Because the person who bears it is too highly favored by heaven to be the father of such a wretch as you." "Oh, these are fine words." "And there will be fine doings, if you do not take care."
"Half-past six o'clock has just struck, M. Bertuccio," said the count severely; "I ordered dinner at that hour, and I do not like to wait;" and he returned to his guests, while Bertuccio, leaning against the wall, succeeded in reaching the dining-room. Five minutes afterwards the doors of the drawing-room were thrown open, and Bertuccio appearing said, with a violent effort, "The dinner waits."
"Ah," continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account of the execution." "There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out his tablets; "for I saw the account, and copied it down." "Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us know when breakfast is ready.
"The second was the crime of which you were accused when you asked for a confessor, and the Abbe Busoni came to visit you at your request in the prison at Nimes." "The story will be very long, excellency." "What matter? you know I take but little sleep, and I do not suppose you are very much inclined for it either." Bertuccio bowed, and resumed his story.
Monte Cristo wrote two or three notes, and, as he sealed the last, the steward appeared. "Your excellency's carriage is at the door," said he. "Well, take your hat and gloves," returned Monte Cristo. "Am I to accompany you, your excellency?" cried Bertuccio. "Certainly, you must give the orders, for I intend residing at the house."
"Be silent!" commanded Monte-Cristo. "You are a Corsican show a Corsican's courage!" "I will!" was the determined reply, and the steward walked with a firm tread to the side of the yacht. "What do you mean?" said the Count, hurrying after him and placing his hand on his shoulder. "You shall see!" answered Bertuccio.
The notary left the room backwards, and bowing down to the ground; it was the first time he had ever met a similar client. "See this gentleman out," said the count to Bertuccio. And the steward followed the notary out of the room. Scarcely was the count alone, when he drew from his pocket a book closed with a lock, and opened it with a key which he wore round his neck, and which never left him.
"Some particulars, doubtless, but that is seven or eight years ago, and I have forgotten them." "Then I can speak without fear of tiring your excellency." "Go on, M. Bertuccio; you will supply the want of the evening papers." "The story begins in 1815." "Ah," said Monte Cristo, "1815 is not yesterday." "No, monsieur, and yet I recollect all things as clearly as if they had happened but then.
Morrel, in a corner of the carriage, allowed his brother-in-law's gayety to expend itself in words, while he felt equal inward joy, which, however, betrayed itself only in his countenance. At the Barriere du Trone they met Bertuccio, who was waiting there, motionless as a sentinel at his post.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking