Граф Монте-Кристо

The Rain of Blood.

           HowlongIhadbeeninthisunconsciousstateIknownot,whenIwassuddenlyarousedbythereportofapistol,followedbyafearfulcry.Weakandtotteringfootstepsresoundedacrossthechamberaboveme,andthenextinstantadull,heavyweightseemedtofallpowerlessonthestaircase.Ihadnotyetfullyrecoveredconsciousness,whenagainIheardgroans,mingledwithhalf-stifledcries,asiffrompersonsengagedinadeadlystruggle.Acrymoreprolongedthantheothersandendinginaseriesofgroanseffectuallyrousedmefrommydrowsylethargy.Hastilyraisingmyselfononearm,Ilookedaround,butallwasdark;anditseemedtomeasiftherainmusthavepenetratedthroughtheflooringoftheroomabove,forsomekindofmoistureappearedtofall,dropbydrop,uponmyforehead,andwhenIpassedmyhandacrossmybrow,Ifeltthatitwaswetandclammy.

           "Tothefearfulnoisesthathadawakenedmehadsucceededthemostperfectsilenceunbroken,savebythefootstepsofamanwalkingaboutinthechamberabove.Thestaircasecreaked,hedescendedintotheroombelow,approachedthefireandlitacandle.ThemanwasCaderoussehewaspaleandhisshirtwasallbloody.Havingobtainedthelight,hehurriedup-stairsagain,andoncemoreIheardhisrapidanduneasyfootsteps.

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Roboto Lora
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