Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
I shrank tremblingly against the wall, but the next instant a blow that would have felled an ox had hurled Ali Pasha to the stone floor of the bazaar. It was delivered by the man whose voice had seemed familiar to me, and, tearing off his beard, my husband, the undaunted Count of Monte-Cristo himself, caught me in his arms and folded me to his breast! "Ali Pasha had now arisen to his feet.
Gold and diamonds are scattered about the floor." Monte-Cristo frowned. Was there a thief on board? "Come, Spero," he said, and, followed by Jacopo, father and son hurried to the cabin. As the Corsican had said, the cabin was indeed open, and the carpet was strewn with emeralds, rubies, and other precious stones.
Stained glass windows admitted an uncertain light. Esperance threw open the sash and the daylight streamed in, and with it the delicious breeze of spring. Esperance turned to the wall, on which hung a fine picture of Monte-Cristo. Next this portrait hung one of his mother. The young man spoke aloud. "Father!" he said, "mother! listen to me, judge me and counsel me.
Monte-Cristo walked amid these distorted shadows like some master magician communing with the dark, mysterious spirits that received his commands in silence and then vanished to execute them without question or debate.
The melody transported me to another world, and I saw and heard very little of what was going on about me. Suddenly I heard a slight noise behind the drapery, and these words reached my ears: 'Vicomte of Monte-Cristo, take care of yourself. A trap has been set for you, and woe to you if you are foolish enough not to notice it." "A trap laid?
"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.
Monte-Cristo who was passionately fond of music, caught the prevailing enthusiasm and gradually emerged from the shelter of the protecting curtains and drapery.
Monte-Cristo, without hesitation, had written the words down, and the Arabian, looking sharply at him, continued: "Put your name under what you have just written " "One word more," interrupted the count. "I understand your aim. You want to lead a French detachment in ambush?" "Yes. For the head of your son, I require those of a hundred Frenchmen."
One morning shortly after the departure of the Morrels for Rome, the Count of Monte-Cristo was driving along the Champs-Elysées in his elegant barouche drawn by a pair of spirited, blooded bays, when, near the Rond-point, his progress was suddenly checked by a great, tumultuous concourse of people.
The two women who had filled such important places in the life of Monte-Cristo were sitting together in the large drawing-room, the windows of which looked out upon the calm blue waters of the Mediterranean. These windows were open and through them floated the delightful perfume of the flowers from the garden beyond, mingled with the saline odors of the sea.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking