Эротические рассказы

The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864 - Various


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by the command of General Bianchetti, I stationed myself with my detachment, on the west side of the bulwark; upon our entrance into the fort on the third bastion to the left, I observed a man standing, unarmed, but bleeding and wounded, by a dead body. I cried immediately to my men: 'Hasten your steps, we must reach him!' but before we could approach him, he ascended a steep cliff overhanging the valley, stood for a moment on a sharp and jutting point of rock, and fixed his haggard eyes upon the depths below. I saw him, then, extend his arms like a swimmer about to make a sudden plunge; he threw himself forward with all his force; I saw him a moment in the air, and we all heard the noise made by the fall of the body as it pitched and fell from rock to rock into the abyss below.

      This is the sword which we found but a few steps from the spot on which we first observed him.

      He hands a sword to Pancratius.

      Pancratius (examining the sword). Drops of blood stain the handle, but here are the arms of his house! It is the sword of Count Henry!

      He alone among you all has kept his plighted faith; to him be endless glory—to you, traitors, the guillotine!

      General Bianchetti, you will see that the fortress of the Holy Trinity is razed to the ground, and will also superintend the execution of the prisoners!

      Leonard!

      He withdraws with Leonard.

      A bastion on the north tower. Pancratius, Leonard.

      Leonard. You require repose after so many sleepless nights; you look wearied and exhausted with ceaseless labor.

      Pancratius. The hour of rest has not yet struck for me, and the last sigh of the last of my enemies marks the completion of but half my task. Look upon these heavy mists, these swamps, these desert plains; they stand between me and the realization of my plans. Every waste on earth must be peopled, rocks removed, lakes and rivers everywhere connected; a portion of the soil must be awarded to every human being; the teeming hosts of the living must far outnumber the multitudes who have perished; life and universal prosperity must fill the place of death and ruin, before our work of general destruction can be at all atoned for. If we are not to inaugurate an era of social and widespread happiness, our work of havoc and devastation will have been worse than vain!

      Leonard. The God of Freedom will give us power for gigantic tasks.

      Pancratius. What! You speak of God! Do you not see that it is crimson and slippery here—that we are standing deep in human gore?

      Whose blood is this beneath our feet?

      There is nothing behind us save the court of the castle; no one is near us. I know that we are quite alone, and yet, Leonard, I feel there is another here!

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