Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
The girl's face looked like wax, her eyelids had a brownish tinge. Her lips were parted with the sigh that her nurse had heard. Poor Jane! Was she on the road to recovery? Alas! the physicians did not yet answer for her life. Goutran had, at the request of Esperance, brought two men of great science, but they agreed that the girl was in great danger.
Then Bobichel explored every inch of the floor, which was covered with a thick carpet. But nothing could be found. "This is most extraordinary," murmured Fanfar, "and yet I am convinced that I am on the track." Suddenly Bobichel uttered an exclamation. "Here is something, master!" Fanfar and Goutran hastened to him.
This Goutran, Goutran Sabrau, was a tall young fellow of about twenty-five, with blonde hair and a frank face. He was a painter, and had already attained some celebrity. "Upon my word, this is a welcome worth having," said Goutran. "But what is going on here, you do not look like yourself. Your eyes are much brighter than usual. Have you not some secret to confide to me?"
"Yes," answered Esperance, "I am free." "I have a favor to ask," said Goutran, after a minute's silence. "Ask it. You know every thing I have is yours." "Yes another minute you would offer me millions." "No, I did not think of doing so. I am rich, I know, but it is not my fault. And I do not think it generous in you to reproach me with these millions." "I did not mean to offend you.
What is the world coming to, thought Goutran. Finally the good man produced the paper in question, rose colored and perfumed. Goutran tore it open, but did not read it until he reached his own room. The address was in delicate, long letters, the result of lessons from an English master. Who could have sent it? He did not know the writing.
The distrust which was a part of his nature struggled against the cordiality shown by Goutran. Finally Esperance had a friend. To Goutran alone did he ever open his heart, and even when he had been with him for hours, laughing and talking with gayety, he appeared before Monte-Cristo as impassive as ever. Goutran did not attempt to penetrate the secrets of his life.
You passed me and spoke to me, but I hardly knew what you said, when suddenly from behind that hanging came these words, distinctly pronounced: "Take care, son of Monte-Cristo, take care! You are walking into a snare laid for you. Take care!" "A snare! Who was it that spoke?" "I know not. I instantly drew aside the curtain, but there was no one there." "No one!" Goutran smiled.
"This is my confession: I, Goutran, a painter, propose to give a soirée to-morrow night." "You!" "Yes, neither more nor less, and I intend to add to this soirée a ball." "In your atélier?" "Why not? It is not as large as the Square, to be sure, but it will be a success." "But what is the occasion of these festivities?" "Oh! thereby hangs a tale.
Goutran advanced to meet this gentleman with an eagerness that would have marred the interest which we feel in him had it not been explained by the presence of the charming daughter of the banker, Carmen de Laisangy. Goutran had painted Carmen's portrait, which had excited much commendation at the Salon, to which fact was probably due the presence of the banker and his daughter at this soirée.
"Mademoiselle," said the host, "permit me to present to you the Vicomte de Monte-Cristo." Esperance bowed low. "I think I have never had the pleasure of meeting you before, Vicomte," said Carmen. "Oh! Esperance is a workingman!" cried Goutran. "He disdains our worldly pleasures." Esperance protested with a gesture, but evidently his mind was elsewhere.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking