Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
We give you five minutes to reflect, after which our rifles and our good cause shall decide between us." "You have but two minutes to decide," said Bois-Rose; "listen to me and avoid needless bloodshed." Mediana kept silence and preserved his haughty air.
It was the death scream of your poor mother. Ah! Don Fabian de Mediana," continued the speaker, in reply to the gesture of horror made by the young man, "Ah! that man's conscience has reproached him in stronger terms than you could use; and at this hour he is ready to spill the last drop of his blood for you."
Pepe at length rose, and advanced a few paces, by his manner showing a determination only to utter that which his conscience approved. "I understand you, Count Mediana," said he, addressing himself to Fabian, who alone in his eyes had the right to assume this title.
Fabian directed a haughty glance towards Pepe, as though to command his submission; then addressing himself to the Spaniard: "My Lord of Mediana, you are not now in the presence of assassins, but of judges, and Pepe will not forget it."
Two years passed during which the French privateer did not return to the coast of Spain. The tenderness of the sailor towards the child he had picked up which was no other than the young Count Fabian de Mediana did not cease for an instant, but seemed rather to increase with time.
"Right," said Fabian, "the Duke de Armada shall hear of what crime Don Antonio de Mediana is accused. Speak Bois-Rose! tell us what you know, and nothing more."
Here the alcalde made a sign to Cagatinta, whose whole faculties were keenly bent to discover what service was expected from him, by which he was to gain the object of his ambition the liver-coloured breeches. The alcalde continued: "You all know, my children, of my attachment to the family of Mediana.
Pale, but resigned, the unfortunate Count de Mediana remained standing. Buried in deep reverie, he did not appear to notice the continually decreasing shadow. All exterior objects vanished from his sight. His thoughts were divided between the past which no longer concerned him, and the future he was about to enter. However, pride still struggled within him, and he maintained an obstinate silence.
The sun was shedding his first rays upon the scene, and every object cast a long shadow upon the ground. A bright flash shot from the naked blade which the younger Mediana held in his hand. Fabian buried its point in the sand. The shadow of the poignard far exceeded its length. "The sun," he said, "shall determine how many moments you have to live.
"Oh, Count Mediana, why did you kill my mother?" cried Fabian, covering his face with his hands; then, glancing towards the poignard planted in the sand, "My lord of Armada," he added, solemnly, "the poignard is without a shadow!" Don Antonio trembled in spite of himself, as he then recalled the prophetic threat, which twenty years before the Countess de Mediana had compelled him to hear.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking