Граф Монте-Кристо

The Lions’ Den.

           Itisawretched,damp,nay,evenhorriblespot,moreespeciallywhenweconsidertheagonizingconferenceswhichhavetakenplacebetweenthoseironbars.Andyet,frightfulthoughthisspotmaybe,itislookeduponasakindofparadisebythemenwhosedaysarenumbered;itissorareforthemtoleavetheLions’DenforanyotherplacethanthebarrierSaint–Jacquesorthegalleys!

           Inthecourtwhichwehaveattemptedtodescribe,andfromwhichadampvaporwasrising,ayoungmanwithhishandsinhispockets,whohadexcitedmuchcuriosityamongtheinhabitantsofthe"Den,"mightbeseenwalking.Thecutofhisclotheswouldhavemadehimpassforanelegantman,ifthoseclotheshadnotbeentorntoshreds;stilltheydidnotshowsignsofwear,andthefinecloth,beneaththecarefulhandsoftheprisoner,soonrecovereditsglossinthepartswhichwerestillperfect,forthewearertriedhisbesttomakeitassumetheappearanceofanewcoat.Hebestowedthesameattentionuponthecambricfrontofashirt,whichhadconsiderablychangedincolorsincehisentranceintotheprison,andhepolishedhisvarnishedbootswiththecornerofahandkerchiefembroideredwithinitialssurmountedbyacoronet.Someoftheinmatesofthe"Lions’Den"werewatchingtheoperationsoftheprisoner’stoiletwithconsiderableinterest."See,theprinceispluminghimself,"saidoneofthethieves."He’safinelookingfellow,"saidanother;"ifhehadonlyacombandhair-grease,he’dtaketheshineoffthegentlemeninwhitekids.

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Страница 1787 из 1932